Authors: Natasha Knight
Stepbrother Jerk (5 page)
W
e spent
the day swimming and laughing, talking about everything we hadn’t talked about in too many years. We made love again, slowly this time. When he’d taken me before, it had been in passion, both of us hungry, burning with desire. I liked sex to be rough. I didn’t like to kiss. I didn’t like to be held. At least not until Jace. With him, I wanted to lie in his arms forever. I wanted to kiss him slowly, deeply, to taste him and to know him. I wanted him to watch me as he made love to me, and, when he did, when he lay on top of me, thrusting into me slowly, he did just that, our eyes open and locked on one another, watching each other in silence as we made love, orgasm coming on slowly, deeply, the tugging at my heart different than anything I’d ever felt before.
This was right. This was where I belonged, with Jace, lying in his arms. I’d dated a lot but had never been in love. I’d never felt like I did with Jace. I trusted him. I think that’s what it was: the trust. We’d built it then lost it only to regain it, and I would make sure I would not lose it again. I’d never felt happier or more fulfilled than I did during that Valentine’s Day weekend. What had started out so wrong had turned out so right. He’d had the courage to get us here, and I would be forever grateful for that.
The weeks following our return home were different, more like they used to be before I’d kissed him and felt like he’d rejected me. We were more than friendly to each other, and it was somehow easy. I liked being around Jace, and he felt the same, and I think we were both just appreciating our time together. Our renewed trust and friendship in addition to the other stuff.
But, apart from the tenderness, the attraction between us built and flared hot, creating an almost electrical charge between us, something that connected us, that would bind us forever. I knew it and he did, too, and although neither of us knew how this would play out, what would happen when we did tell our friends and parents that we were in love, all that mattered now was that we were together. I would take that. I would easily take that.
The End
T
hank
you for reading Stepbrother Jerk. I hope you enjoyed this novella. If you did and would like to be notified of new releases and sales, please sign up for my
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Slater
E
verything I believed was a lie
. Everything except for her, the one person I blamed for it all.
MacKayla Simone was beautiful. She was sexy as hell. She was also the set-up.
One night.
Sex that rocked my world.
Rocked it to its very foundations because the next thing I knew, she and I made the headlines of every paper, every news channel across the country, and it cost me everything.
But that wasn’t the worst of it. That came when I learned who was behind the set-up. That was when I understood what it meant to be destroyed absolutely.
I don’t know why I went after MacKayla. She’d been a pawn just like me. But it was all I could do, all I had left. Hell, it was the one thing keeping me from tumbling into the abyss and never coming back into the light.
Find her. Find the girl who’d fucked me. Find her and make her pay.
MacKayla
I didn’t know who Slater Vaughn was, but if I had, it wouldn’t have mattered. Not when my sister was in trouble. I would have done what I did anyway. You can judge me. You can call me a whore. But I would have done it anyway.
One night, they’d said. Make him want you, let him have you. Easiest money in the world for just one night of my life.
Only it wasn’t one night because that night obliterated Slater Vaughn, and he came after me. He told me I owed him, and truthfully, I did. Hell, maybe those years in hiding, I’d been waiting for him to find me. To punish me. To make me pay.
Maybe I sought his forgiveness all along.
But now that he had me, how far would he take this game? Slater Vaughn was a broken man. He had nothing left to lose. What was to keep him from taking me with him into his darkness?
Prologue
Adam
F
or the sixth
day this week, I watched Elle Vega walk out of the trendy café, wave good-bye to her friends, and climb into her shiny, new VW Bug. Yellow. Compliments of Daddy, no doubt. I knew for a fact she had a Mini sitting in the garage at home, too, but she wouldn’t bring that around this group. No, she had to maintain the appearance she was like them. Like her friends. She’d then take the long way to her condo in the West Village. Tiny, charming, absurdly overpriced. Perfect for the rich little bitch.
“Mr. Smith, can I get you anything else?” Mary asked, the dark circles under her eyes betraying her fatigue. She’d been serving me the same thing every day for the past six days — a double espresso and a slice of apple pie.
I took my wallet out. “No, thank you, Mary. What’s the damage?” I already knew. It’d be less than ten bucks, but I dug out a fifty-dollar bill anyway.
“Here you go,” she said, handing me the check.
I glanced at it before slipping the fifty into the little pocket folder. “That should cover it.”
“Oh, no, sir, it’s really too much.”
I closed my hand over hers to stop her from giving it back. “How’s Kyle doing, by the way? Things settle down at school?” She was a twenty year old single mom working two jobs, one of which paid below the minimum wage. Fucking ridiculous how, here in the United States of America, one of the wealthiest fucking countries in the world, we have kids like this raising their own kids, struggling to put food on the table.
She smiled, knowing she needed the money. Knowing I knew it. “Kyle’s good, and, yes, it’s going better. The bigger kids stopped teasing him, it seems. His teacher’s pretty nice, actually.”
I smiled back at her. “Good. I’m glad to hear it,” I said, standing. “Oh, one more thing.” I took a business card out of my wallet and handed it to her. “I’ll be going out of town for a while, but if you ever need anything, don’t be a stranger.” She was a good kid. Got a shit lot in life, but a good kid.
Her nose reddened and her eyes moistened. “Thanks, Mr. Smith. You’re a great guy.”
I almost chuckled, wondering if she’d think that if she knew the reason for my daily visits.
I dug the keys out of my suit pocket and went around the corner to where I’d parked my Harley. People turned to stare as I climbed on. It was only natural, I supposed, to watch a big guy in a three-piece suit, wearing shoes costing more than most made in a month, ride a fucking Harley through town. The bike was the only part of the past I brought into my present. The rest I’d return to later, when it was done.
I followed the little yellow bug from some distance away, although I didn’t need to tail her. I knew where she lived. I knew what she ate. Where she did her dry cleaning. Who she socialized with. Who she fucked — although that was surprisingly infrequent. I knew the contents of her underwear drawer. Knew what kind of vibrator she liked and how often she used it. And, today, I’d meet Elle Vega face-to-face. I’d introduce myself as her new neighbor, and I’d steal her life, just like they’d stolen mine.
Chapter One
Julien
I
'd been watching
her for the last three days.
I didn't know what it was I found so appealing about the girl. She was a sneaky little peeping Tom. Maybe it was her pretty green eyes, or how wide they grew at the things she watched us do. At the things I made the girl whose ass I was currently fucking do. Regardless, her fate was sealed the moment she pushed the curtains aside and saw my face.
No witnesses, no matter what. That was rule number one. It had to be.
She hadn't yet realized I'd seen her, that she was being watched as she herself was doing the watching. Her attention was fully absorbed by the fucking. But I studied her face, saw her mouth open, her little pink tongue dart out to lick those full lips, her throat work as she swallowed hard, her cheeks flushing a deep red.
Her face imprinted on my mind. I'd recognize her anywhere now. It was one of the things I was so good at — a blessing and a curse all at once. Never forget a face. Never forget their eyes, how they change when they realize what's happening, when terror grips them.
Forgetting was a gift. People spent their lives chasing the past, trying to hold on to something long gone. Desperate to remember. Me? I wished I could forget.
It had been three days since she'd first seen us. I was sure it was by accident, or at least it had been the first time. Her room was situated directly across the courtyard of the cheap little hotel. She'd pulled the curtains apart to open her window when she'd stumbled upon the sight of us fucking. I'd ducked my head out of sight, and wouldn't have thought much of it, but when, a moment later, the small hand pulled the curtains just a little wider, just wide enough to see, my curiosity had gotten the best of me.
It had been her face. It was just so innocent, so… corruptible. Irresistible to a man like me. I always liked to play with them first, fuck with them a little. It was cruel, reprehensible, really. I knew it, but it didn't make me enjoy it any less.
The blonde began to squirm beneath me, almost stealing my attention from the woman in the window. I glanced down at her, at the mass of dyed hair spilling over her back, mascara smeared across her face, her mouth open. I looked at her ass, at my cock disappearing inside it. She'd been a good fuck, but this would be the last time. Three days was long enough. I had a job to do, after all, and the girl in the window would already delay me. I couldn't exactly assassinate my mark in front of her. She'd freak out, and that was more attention than I needed.
Gripping the blonde's hair tightly, I tugged hard, giving her a grin she likely thought a smile before pushing her face into the mattress to shut her up. She mewled and I rubbed her clit with my free hand, turning that sound into something else. Pain and pleasure, pleasure and pain. They never knew which it was; there was never any clear line for them.
With the blonde's face buried in the blankets, I studied my little voyeur. She was still there, still watching — but her hand had disappeared into her pants. I'd make her show me just what those fingers were doing when the time came. That made me grin, but when she looked up and her green gaze met mine, I could almost hear her gasp at the shock of being caught. It was then my grin widened into something else, something meant to scare.
I gripped the blonde's hips, all while daring the woman who watched to draw the curtains closed, to turn away. I fucked the woman before me then, really fucked her, and just before I came inside that tight ass, my little voyeur blinked as if coming out of a trance, her face going bright red before she pulled the curtains tight.
My low growl made the blonde look over her shoulder. I met her gaze, my own hardening as I forced myself to remember who she was, the things she'd done, and the job I still had to do. That part always made my cock harder. Any person with morals would probably worry about that, about liking this sort of work, but I had never claimed to have any of those. Or if I had, they'd been beaten out of me years ago. That was what made me so good at my job.
I looked down at her asshole, at my cock as it plunged deep, knowing I hurt and gave pleasure at once, not caring which was the dominant of the two as I exploded inside her. But when I closed my eyes, it was the voyeur’s eyes I saw, not the woman who had my cock buried inside her.
If only the bitch before me knew how lucky she was. She'd just been granted an extra day to live.