Stepbrother Studs: Taboo A-Z Boxed Set Volume 2: A Stepbrother Romance Bundle (Stepbrother Studs Boxed Sets)
Authors: Selena Kitt
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A Twisted Bard's Tale
Hannah's Choice
Sibling Lust: In the Barn
Connections
Taken
PLUS EXCLUSIVE to Newsletter Subscribers:
MOXIE
By Selena Kitt
High school senior, Moxie, agrees to be moral support for her friend, Patches, who is totally enamored with a college boy, so she says yes to a double date, even though she has to lie to her parents to do it. But Moxie wasn’t counting on lying about her age to get into an x-rated movie, and she definitely wasn’t counting on her date’s Roman hands and Russian fingers, or the fact that the pants she’s borrowed from Patches are several sizes too small. By the end of the night, Moxie finds herself in far more trouble than she bargained for!
There are some lines that shouldn’t be crossed, some boundaries that shouldn’t be pushed—but sometimes you just can’t fight what’s meant to be.
These stepbrother studs are easy to hate and hard to love, as their insatiable stepsisters know all too well, as they find themselves loving, then hating, then loving them again. And again. And again.
Some of these stepbrother studs are tattooed, damaged, even downright dangerous—but they’re all sexy, handsome hunks who are hotter than hellfire and, ultimately, just simply irresistible.
Get all five of these filthy, forbidden fantasies in one collection, where everything is complicated, and secrets are kept like a pent-up breath aching to be released.
These tempting taboo tales will transport you to a world where wicked, illicit desires are just too tantalizing to resist. You just know they’re going to give in.
And so will you.
Included in this collection: Evan, Finn, Gavin, Hayden, Ian
By Selena Kitt
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MORE HOT TABOO BOXED SETS FROM SELENA!
STEPBROTHER STUDS BOXED SET VOLUME 1
FIRST TIME WITH MY STEPBROTHER BOXED SET VOLUME 1
LITTLE BRATS BOXED SET VOLUME1
Faye doesn’t get it. Her older stepbrother, Evan, has always been her best friend and confidante, but now he doesn’t seem to want her around anymore.
No, it’s worse than that. Evan’s changed. He’s keeping secrets. Hiding things from her. But the more he pushes her away, the more curious she becomes, until she discovers just exactly what Evan’s been doing—and why.
Now Faye understands. Her stepbrother thinks he’s broken, a monster, and has been trying to keep them both from making a horrible mistake. But Evan’s plans to make her hate him have failed. Miserably. And his little stepsister is about to prove it to him...
Faye watched her stepbrother from the side of the school, nosing his tricked-out Dodge Charger into the high school parking lot, a black shark amid the bland minivans and bright yellow school buses.
Evan idled, waiting, behind the wheel. His window was down, music blaring. Girls passed by, glancing in, most doing a double-take—not that she could blame them—the bolder ones waving and saying, “Hi.”
High school’s version of flirting.
He tapped his fingers idly on the steering wheel, not to the beat of the song at all. A tall, leggy redhead dropped something on the ground next to his open window. Then she bent down to grab it, her ass right in his line of sight, making a show of it.
He didn’t even return her smile.
Faye saw him mutter something, blowing a stray wisp of jet black hair up away from his driving glasses, scanning the lot, looking for signs of his stepsister amidst the students milling out of the school’s doors carrying backpacks. She liked making him wait.
She enjoyed the looks the girls gave her when she yanked open the passenger door, tossing her flip-flops onto the pristine floor mats. Evan glanced at the yellow sundress she’d poured herself into that morning, the one that showed off quite a bit of cleavage. She knew what she looked like.
She flipped her long, blonde hair over her shoulder, wrinkling her nose at him as she dropped her books—no backpack for her—onto the floor with her shoes.
“Jeez, Ev, do you always have to dress like Marilyn Manson?”
He glanced down at his black t-shirt, jeans and combat boots with a shrug.
“You should let your hair go back to its natural color.” She frowned, reaching over to push a long strand of his jet-black hair out of his eyes. “Get it cut. You could be hot.”
“Shut up.” He rolled his eyes, putting the Charger in gear and zooming around the fat backend of a yellow school bus, narrowly missing two cheerleaders.
Faye just laughed. “My girlfriends keep asking me if you're gay.”
“Really?” He snorted.
“But if they say your porn collection, they'd think otherwise.” She gave him a sly, sideways glance, satisfied with the look that elicited from him.
“You stay out of there!”
“Sorry, brah, didn't think your porn stash was a matter of national security.” She grinned, reaching for the radio, changing the station. That garnered her another glare, but he didn’t stop her. “Got a thing for the MILFs though! No soccer mom’s safe in River City?”
“Shut up,” he muttered again, shaking his head. “Look, just stay out of my stuff, all right? There are things... you just don’t want to know. And don’t call me brah.”
Faye sat back in the bucket seat, putting her bare feet up on the dash. He glared at that too, but didn’t say anything. It was only when she began chewing on a strand of her long blonde hair that he reacted.
“Don't do that.” He grabbed her hand.
“I wash my hair.” She glanced down to where he was still touching her, squeezing her hand in his.
“Jury's still out on that one,” he snapped, letting her go and putting his hand back on the wheel.
“Fuck you,” she snapped, turning her face to look out the window.
“Ugh, not a chance in hell,” he muttered.
“I'm your sister, you pervert,” she reminded him. Okay, so she was reminding herself too. She didn’t even know why she bothered sometimes. He could be such a smug little ass.
“
Step
sister.” Evan emphasized the first syllable in the most pedantic way possible.
“Well, yes, that. Evan, Lord of Technicalities. So, tell me, what technicality is keeping you single?” Faye knew it was a bad idea to get into this, but she did it anyway. “You've never had a girlfriend, not since my dad married your mom ten years ago. Are you
sure
you're not gay?”
“What is this, a history midterm?”
“It's a valid question.”
“None of your business is my valid answer.”
“How do you have money to pay for this car?” She wondered aloud, changing the subject as she crossed her arms and cocked her head at him. “All you do is deliver pizza on the weekend.”
“Why so nosy all of a sudden?” His gaze swept over her as he stopped at a red light. “You my financial adviser now? Want to ask me about my 401(K) and how to diversify my bonds and shit?”
A ping noise brought the conversation to a halt. Evan dug his smartphone out of his pants pocket. Faye watched him check his phone, feeling a little tinge of jealousy at the way he smirked at the screen, letting out a little laugh.
“What's so funny?”
“Change of plans. I need to stop somewhere before we get home.” He glared over at her, wagging a finger like she was a three-year-old. “But
you
have to promise to stay in the car.”
“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes for the millionth time since she’d climbed in beside him, wondering what could be so urgent they had to stop on the way home. Some Goth emergency? Someone run out of black hair dye?
After five minutes of silent driving—just the sound of the radio and Faye snapping her gum—the Charger pulled up to a little bungalow house. Evan got out of the car and headed to the back door with one more admonition for her to “stay put!”
“Better not be selling drugs!” Faye shouted after him through her open window. “I’ll tell Mom!”
Evan gave her the finger.
Asshole.
She narrowed her eyes at the little house. Her accusation wasn't an idle threat. Drugs made her real father an addict. It sent him to jail and prompted her mother to file for divorce.
She watched him enter without knocking, wondering what in the hell he was up to.
Evan was a Scorpio, so all the secret stuff shouldn’t have surprised her. The dark thing was innate with him, always had been. But there was a time when he shared those secrets with her. Now he was keeping them—more and more of them, it seemed. What had changed?
Faye slipped her iPhone out of the side pocket of her sundress and checked her texts. She had to keep it on silent while she was in school. She answered a few, checked her email, played a couple games of Scrabble with Friends, and considered taking the car around the block, just to piss Evan off. But he’d taken the keys. Of course.
Anyway, she figured he’d be out any minute.
Except he wasn’t.
It felt like it had been an hour.
Another text—Evan? No—her friend, Amy. They were supposed to hang out tonight.
She typed a message back:
My brothers being such a chode right now. Probably selling meth to soccer moms #BreakingDouche
“What is taking him so long?” she said to herself, squinting at the house. “Fuck it.”
She opened the car door, leaving her iPhone on the seat of the car, and headed towards the side door he’d gone through. She raised her hand to knock and then changed her mind. The door opened without any effort. This made her smile.
If you're dealing drugs, you are so dead,
she thought. Now, that would be a secret he would have reason to keep from her. And the thought filled her with dread. She wasn’t going to lose Evan the way she lost her dad.
Faye took a leisurely walk through the kitchen, admiring the high-end appliances. The same brands she saw advertised on those cooking shows Evan liked to watch. She did admire Evan's cooking talent. He got annoyed when she kept telling him over and over that he should be running a pizza parlor, not doing deliveries.
Her hand traced the brushed aluminum of the stove.
Was this breaking and entering?
She walked back to close the door behind her, standing in the hall outside the kitchen, wondering where to go next. The house seemed cavernous. Random hallways appeared identical and led in different directions. The family photos stared back at her. Each exuded the relentless cheeriness of family vacations and holiday snapshots. Lots of photos from national parks. Mom and the kids standing next to Old Faithful. An old wedding photo, hairstyles back when Duran Duran and Flock of Seagulls was a thing.
Then sound broke the silence.
Not any ordinary sound like a distant sound of a television or radio or a dog barking.
No, these sounds were physical, repetitive, and
dirty.
She heard Evan's voice and then a woman's.
Tiptoeing down the hall, she peeked around the corner, and her jaw dropped at the sight. The hallway ended at a bedroom, where the door was open. Her stepbrother was grabbing the firm ass of some older, curvy blonde woman wearing a white terrycloth robe. He’d pinned her against a wall, and she saw them in profile.
“I want you inside me,” the blonde purred.
Faye’s jaw dropped.
“Sure Mr. Heisman won't object?” her stepbrother asked, his hands kneading the woman’s ass under her robe. Faye stared at the way he ground against her. How old was she, anyway? Forty? What the hell was her brother thinking?