BAD LUST: A Stepbrother Romance (A Step Over the Line Book Book 1) (3 page)

3.

(Jake)

She thinks I
don
’
t fucking remember her. Are you
fucking kidding me? The sweetest smelling pussy I ever had. So pure and
delicious, she still lingered on my fucking lips. And how tight she was? I
thought my cock was being choked and would snap off. She said she wasn
’
t quite a virgin, but damn, that
was a virgin pussy. If not, then I feel bad for the guy who allegedly fucked
her. Must have had a pinky dick. Not me though. I
’
m
more like a fucking fist.

Damn. And the way she moved her
hips? I held those fucking hips, her little curvy flesh working goddamn magic
on me. It was so good
…
I
would have fucked her three more times that night. But when she climbed off me,
I saw what I
’
d done to her.
I hurried to wipe the evidence away, not wanting her to see the blood I had
caused.

She was drunk but not sloppy drunk.
And she was the dork rich girl on campus. I was the dirty burn out jock.
Whatever the fuck anyone wanted to call me. I like pussy and the campus was
flooded with it. And they all wanted it. A piece of Jake. I
’
m the kind of guy that makes a
woman
’
s father cry and a
woman
’
s mother wish she
were twenty years younger. Hell, you don
’
t
even want to know how many mothers I
’
ve
run through after I took care of their daughters.

Yeah, I
’
m sick. I
’
m
fucked. I
’
m
…
insert here
.

It
’
s
the way I live and the way I
’
ve
lived my entire damn life. Having a flake for a mother and a dead father really
doesn
’
t put you on the path
to prosperity. But there
’
s
money all around and I keep my mouth shut and enjoy it.

Money and sex. What else fucking
matters?

Right now, what matters is the
dorky bitch on stage, staring at me as she sings. She almost cost me two times
tonight already and it pisses me off. The first time I could understand. Coming
into the bathroom to take a piss and finding some guy railing a chick against a
wall is a little jarring. When I looked back and saw it was Jade, I couldn
’
t believe it. The fucking odds
of this shit
…
I pick a
random place to come hang, stay out of the limelight, looking to score a little
pussy. And
BAM
, there she fucking is.

Her sweet body instantly popped
into my mind and I had to pull out of the chick I was fucking to keep from
exploding. The chick had been arguing with her boyfriend at the bar, really
fucking up my night to chill. So I walked up to her and whispered into her ear
…
If you don
’
t shut your fucking
mouth, I
’
m
going to stick my cock in it
…
And well, damn, if she didn
’
t
take me up on the offer. Just to get back at her boyfriend as he rambled on
with some other dude about some fucking football player.

So I fucked the chick. And then I
pulled myself from her. By then, we were alone in the bathroom. I took it easy
and had a seat, letting the chick slop all over my cock. It was good, but she
was too eager at it. Maybe she never saw a dick as big as mine, I don
’
t know. But it was a fucking
chore.

Until we were alone in the bathroom
again
…

I can
’
t
help myself, okay? Therapists told me I take my anger out on others because I
don
’
t know how to deal with
it. They wanted me to take this pill or that pill. Talk about how I feel, all
that bullshit. The reality was that I lived in a quiet hell with my goddamn
mother that I couldn't shake free. She was goddamn needy and I wasn
’
t giving anything of myself.

Never again.

On stage, she
’
s playing her keyboard, singing.
The words are droning on about being alone. Being hurt by all the empty space
around her. On paper, it would probably read like some whiny bitch, but hearing
her voice singing it, it
’
s
pretty good. It
’
s catchy,
it
’
s not whiny, and for a
stuck up, smarty pants rich girl, she
’
s
got a secret talent.

Well
…
that and fucking. And sucking cock.

That first time she slid down my
shaft
…
if I hadn
’
t been so goddamn drunk, I would
have lost it right then. The damn near virgin of West Wutherford with her lips
sliding down and back on my shaft.

I reach into my pocket and pull out
a smoke. I light it up, knowing I
’
ll
three drags if I
’
m lucky
before someone bitches about it. After two drags, a woman comes to the table,
obviously a waitress, and asks me to put it out.

“
Are
you asking or telling?
”

“
Well
…
asking. But you need to put it
out.
”

“
You
have a boyfriend?
”
I ask.

“
Why?
”

“
I
’
ll put this out if you sit on my
lap.
”

“
If
you don
’
t put that out, I
’
ll have the bouncers kick you
out.
”

Normally I
’
d stand and blow smoke in the bitch
’
s face and walk out. But I don
’
t want to miss the rest of the
song.

I stub the smoke out on the table
and wipe it to the floor. I wave my hand at the cloud of smoke and grin.
“
There. Is that better?
”

“
Asshole,
”
the waitress growls.

“
You
’
re not going to earn a tip with
that attitude.
”

“
You
didn
’
t order anything.
”

“
Oh,
fuck. Well, get me a beer, sweetie.
”

The waitress walks away.

My eyes are back on stage.

I know her name but I
’
m afraid to think it. I don
’
t want to get it stuck in my
mind. Bad enough I couldn
’
t
stop thinking of her precious mouth and body. I
’
m
temped to fuck her again. Beyond tempted. I want to fuck destroy her. Leave her
holed up in her princess castle room for days, wishing she could be with me for
the rest of her life.

I like to leave lasting impressions
on people.

The waitress brings me a beer and I
hand her a twenty.

“
I
don
’
t want change,
”
I say.

“
I
wasn
’
t bringing any,
”
she says and curls her lip.

I smile and pucker my lips.
“
Thanks, sweetie. Did you spit in
this?
”

“
Maybe
I did.
”

“
I
don
’
t like spitters,
”
I say.
“
We would have never worked. You need to swallow to
earn my respect.
”

Her eyes go wide and she storms
away. Chances are I won
’
t
get served again.

No fucking sweat off my back.

The song ends and nobody in the
fucking place claps.

What a bunch of fucking dicks.

I stand up and start to clap. A few
other people join in.

“
Come
on!
”
I yell.

I can see her cheeks burning from
the distance I
’
m at. She
blushed the entire time we fucked. Her mouth full of my dick. My hands kneading
at her ass, pulling her hard to my thrusts. My fingertips teasing her tight
little ass hole, wanting in.

And she looks the same right now.

I whistle and stop clapping.

I grab another smoke and put it
between my lips.

I turn and walk toward the front of
the shithole place.

My phone vibrates and I dig into my
pocket for it.

I look over my shoulder and she
’
s still staring at me. She
really thinks I don
’
t
remember her. All part of my reputation, I guess. Fuck
‘
em. Leave
‘
em.
Forget
‘
em. So if I fuck
‘
em again, it
’
s all new to me.

She waves at me.

What the fuck, sweetie?

I look at the screen on my phone
and it
’
s a picture from my
damn mother. Along with a text. I curl my lip and almost bite the ass off my
smoke. I have my beer in my hand and I kick the door open and leave the
shithole.

As if little miss princess bitch
couldn
’
t get any more
tempting to me
…
I
’
m basically told in a single
picture that I could never,
ever
fuck her again.

Try me.

4.

(Jade)

He storms out
of the dive café
after forcing everyone to clap for me. I see his silhouette standing there. He
turns and lights up a cigarette. I see the flame, then the cherry tip burning.
It
’
s so freaking gross, but
I can
’
t help but stare at
him through the glass.

When his figure seems to go away I
slip off the side of the stage. Everyone has gone back to their normal lives of
conversations and cell phones. My big moment has come and gone. And it didn
’
t even matter.

“
Hey,
that was amazing,
”
Katelyn
says as she almost jumps on me.

“
Thanks,
”
I say.

“
And
who was the sexy douche trying to smoke and clap for you?
”

Sometimes I forget that Katelyn doesn
’
t go to college. She has her own
blog and clothing thing going on, funded by her parents. I see her so much and
she sometimes walks the campus with me as though she goes there.

“
His
name is Jake. He
’
s the
biggest asshole on campus.
”

“
He
sure seemed like he enjoyed looking at you.
”

“
I
doubt it. He did all that to try and mess me up. I caught him screwing someone
in the bathroom.
”

“
What?
”

“
Exactly.
”

I don
’
t
give much detail, but enough of them that Katelyn shakes her head. We sit and
order a drink. The bartender gives me a beer for free. He winks at Katelyn when
he does it, making it more than obvious that he
’
s
working to get in her pants.

Good for him. Good for her. Good
for them.

I drink my free beer and the
bartender is right there.
“
Another?
”

“
No.
I have to drive home.
”

“
Hey,
is it true
…
who you are?
”
he asks, leaning in.

“
You
tell me,
”
I say.

“
Katelyn
says your father is Thomas Werlem.
”

“
Yeah,
that
’
s true.
”

“
Wow.
Software guru. He owns, like, what, fifty companies or something?
”

“
Yeah,
”
I say.
“
Mostly he sits on the boards, argues, and collects
stocks and options.
”

“
Pretty
smart,
”
the bartender says.
“
And I mean you, not so
much him. You following in those shoes?
”

“
Not
at all.
”

“
Hey,
I hate to do this
…
but I
’
m finishing up school in a year.
I
’
m not going to be a
bartender my entire life. But if I could sneak you a resume, can you put in a
good word?
”

I swallow and force a smile.

Some women are used for their
bodies. I
’
m used for my
father
’
s connections.
Usually the guy will at least ask me on a date. Or kiss me. Or give me
something. But this guy, this fucking bartender, he just asks.

“
Talk
to Katelyn,
”
I say. I turn
and stand. I elbow Katelyn.
“
I
’
m out.
”

“
What?
It
’
s early.
”

“
School
night for me.
”

“
It
’
s fucking college,
”
Katelyn says.
“
It doesn
’
t matter. You can hang. We
’
ll catch a ride and I
’
ll
bring you back for your car tomorrow.
”

“
You
could leave it here overnight,
”
the bartender says.
“
We
gate the lot shut when we close. Nothing will happen to it.
”

It
’
s
not like I drive some super fancy car. I don
’
t.
I could if I wanted to. But I don
’
t.
First off, I
’
m not that
kind of woman. And second, my father believes a more wholesome middle class
image helps him and me.

“
I
’
m leaving,
”
I say again, ignoring the
bartender.
“
My father is coming
back from vacation tomorrow.
”

“
The
life changing vacation?
”

“
Yeah.
That one. I need sleep to prepare for this. And I have a psych quiz tomorrow
that I haven
’
t studied for.
”

“
Well,
have fun.
”

I know Katelyn gets frustrated with
me. We became friends when we were neighbors. Before both our families got
richer and built bigger houses, separating us, but never killing our
friendship.

We hug and I leave

I walk along the side of the
building, my keys in one hand, cell phone in the other. My father had taught me
basically that the world was going to hurt me. Everyone wanted a piece of him
and I needed to always be safe.

“
You
have a great voice.
”

I hear the words and then I see the
glow of his cigarette.

Jake.

He
’
s
a few feet away, leaning against the building. He kicks forward and tosses the
cigarette to the ground, embers scattering. I hear him exhale a deep breath and
my nose crunches up at the tangy smell of the smoke.

It
’
s
gross.

But Jake makes it sexy. Because it
’
s bad and he
’
s bad. He
’
s everything wrong and everything any decent woman
would avoid.

He cuts me off and I find myself
looking up at him in the soft glow of the streetlights.

“
Did
you hear me, sweetie?
”

“
Yes,
I heard you. And don
’
t call
me that.
”

“
I
’
ll call you whatever the fuck I
want,
”
Jake says to me.

“
You
don
’
t even know who I am.
”

“
Of
course I do. You
’
re the smart,
rich girl on campus.
”

“
And
you
’
re the dirty asshole,
”
I say.

Jake smirks and it sends a fire
through my body. I want to scream at him right now. Demand he remember our
night together. But I don
’
t
want to embarrass myself.

“
People
say a lot of things,
”
Jake
says.
“
But I wanted to tell
you that your voice is good.
”

“
Well,
thanks then.
”

“
I
mean, it wasn
’
t perfect,
you know? I
’
m sure your
father could fix that. Buy you some lessons. Hell, put you in a studio and make
your voice sound great.
”

I gasp and feel my hand shaking. I
want to hit him.

“
You
’
re a dick.
”

“
I
have a dick,
”
Jake says.
“
And you saw it. Didn
’
t you, sweetie?
”

Does he remember now? I fight the
urge to smile. If he does remember, I
’
d
like to know how
…
you know
…
how things were. If I was good.
If he would
…
do it
again?

Holyhell
…
what
’
s wrong with me?

“
You
can
’
t even talk,
”
Jake says.
“
Walking in on me. Twice. Trying
to cock block me.
”

“
Cock
block you? Please.
”

“
Please
yourself, sweetie.
”

“
I
heard a fucking noise, asshole. I thought she was sick or something.
”

“
Just
choking on my big cock,
”
Jake says.

His voice is a little growly and a
lot vulgar. But I can
’
t run
away. He
’
s everything I
should be running away from, but I can
’
t
do it. In fact, in the back of my mind, I picture him pushing me against the
side of the building and kissing me. I want him to remember me. Remember our
night. Remember the way he pulled me down on him
…

I
’
m tearing apart from in the inside out. I claw
at his shoulders, wanting to hurt him like he
’
s hurting me. But this pain is so different
than any kind of pain I
’
ve
ever felt. It
’
s
a good pain. It
’
s
a ripping feeling that
’
s
quickly replaced by warmth and pleasure. Like real pleasure.

His face is buried in my chest,
his head moving left to right, tongue flicking my nipples, lips suckling the
soft skin of my breast, and when he feels like it, his teeth tug at me,
bringing me to gasp and
I
cry
out
his name.

His hands are holding me so
hard, guiding me up and down. My body is demanding me that I move too. So I
rock my hips left to right, back and forth. Anything to increase the pressure.
Anything to tear at myself some more.

I feel dirty. I feel wrong.

But what Jake is making me feel
…
fuck, it
’
s so good and so right.

“
Did
you hear me?
”

I blinked and shake my head.
“
No. Sorry.
”

“
You
came back a second time,
”
Jake says.
“
That means you
liked what you saw.
”

“
I
’
m not talking about this,
”
I say.
“
You
’
re
an asshole and I
’
m going
home.
”

“
To
your precious mansion? Someone going to tuck you in tonight, sweetie? Do they
still read you bedtime stories? Brush your perfect hair for you?
”

“
Fuck
you,
”
I spat.
“
You
’
re rich, too. Your mother
…”

Jake
’
s
eyes flare. He steps at me. The anger in his eyes makes me nervous.
“
Don
’
t ever
…
trust me, sweetie
…
just don
’
t
…”

He comes at me some more. His body
is about to touch mine. I back up, step after step after step. When my back
hits the wall, I gasp. Jake is still coming at me. I can smell the smoke on his
clothes. The way his breath mixes with booze and smoke. He shouldn
’
t kiss me. My mind tells me to
be logical. I
’
m the logical
girl. Jake was with someone else tonight. Kissing her mouth
…
maybe eher body
…
and if Jake kisses me, it
’
d be like I was down on another
girl.

My face burns red.

Now I
’
m
thinking naughty thoughts of not just me and Jake, but of me and another girl.

What the fuck, Jade?

Jake is inches from my mouth and
then he suddenly jumps back. He grits his teeth and shakes his head.

“
Go
the fuck home,
”
he growls.
“
Go to your pampered life and
everything being perfect.
”

“
You
think that
’
s how it is for
me?
”
I ask.

“
I
don
’
t give a shit, sweetie.
I have my own agenda in life. And it doesn
’
t
include some princess like you.
”

I push from the wall and try to
slap Jake. He
’
s fast, able
to dodge the smack, letting me know that I
’
m
not the first to try and smack him.

“
You
don
’
t remember?
”
I cry out.

And when I say cry
…
damn me
…
I mean cry. My eyes fill with tears. I think of
the other guys who had touched me before. Such an empty, dumb feeling. Even the
one who tried to take my
V-
card, but
I was never sure if it
actually counted. Which means
…
well
…
Jake
’
s the first to be inside me.
Like deep inside me. Like making me come while inside me.