Controlling Interests: A Step-Brother Romance (The Legacy Book 2) (11 page)

Nicholas meant it to be a comfort before he left for the office. And it was, but comfort wouldn’t last. I wasn’t waiting to be saved anymore. Not when Darius controlled me and my mother, not when he threatened Max and Reed, and not while Nicholas risked his future to protect mine.

I had my own plan, an idea so devious it would punish Darius in ways he never, ever imagined.

If
they’d all agree to it.

Unfortunately, Nicholas Bennett would never approve a plan that gave me more power than he possessed.

And so I had to go to the one Bennett who could convince his brother to sacrifice his pride to save us all.

And Christ, would he love humbling Nicholas.

I snuck through the estate, keeping to the shadows in my own cowardly apprehension. I hadn’t dared explore the basement since the day I nearly lost my life to Darius, when he gave me to Max for my punishment.

Bruises faded, but I still trembled, even without the monster chasing me in a furious rage. The gym’s lights flicked on, and muffled rock music blasted between the jarring crash of weights against metal.

Max knew I was there. His leg probably throbbed in my presence. It wasn’t the first time I brought the behemoth to his knees, but it’d be the first time I’d apologize.

I heard enough stories about Maxwell Bennett, and I witnessed his strength firsthand. Max didn’t own his floggers and whips because he trained horses. He craved pain. His leg hurt him every moment of the day, and he took his relief by inflicting the same agony upon others. He punished the Bennett’s enemies and disciplined me with an eager hand.

And still, his aggression was one of the few protections I had against Darius. He administered my reprimands and ensured his father didn’t touch me in anger. Just another Bennett who earned my fragile trust.

Max sweated, bench-pressing an admirable amount of weight. He replaced the equipment and sat up, the hard-packed core of his abdomen clenching. Every muscle flexed, and even the tattoos striking his chest and sides in swipes of violent tribal markings tightened with a dangerous strength.

Except his scarred leg.

His mesh shorts revealed more secrets than any of the tattoos. Scar after scar marred his twitching, lean muscle, and not a single brush of ink touched his pale skin. A thick bruise colored his knee.

Max rarely exposed his leg. Judging by his darkened scowl, I wasn’t a welcomed guest interrupting the morning routine.

“Hi.” I leaned against the doorframe. “Can I join you?”

Max laughed. “You?”

“I’m
supposed
to lightly exercise to help with the asthma.”

Key word:
Supposed
. The doctors encouraged it, as though I hadn’t been a co-ed CEO managing funerals and union contracts, depressed mothers and my own kidnapping.

“Arm or leg day, baby?”

“Arms, I guess. Is that what you’re doing?”

The implication insulted him. Off to a good start. Max ignored me, splashing most of his water over his head. The cascading drops teased over the impressively chiseled muscle of his chest.

I took a chance. “I’m sorry about yesterday.”

“It’s fine.”

“Did I hurt you?”

“I’m fine.”

“Liar.”

Too much. His gaze threatened to end more than the conversation. Max didn’t like to be teased. He demanded respect. To get him on my side for this plan, I’d have to earn that respect. “I just thought I should apologize. I didn’t mean to kick you. I panicked.”

“And I said it was fine.”

That was that. He stretched and selected a ridiculously heavy barbell to lift with one hand. He curled his bicep and did two repetitions before the silence slayed me.

“Please, don’t be mad at me.”

The equipment thunked onto the rack with a jarring clang. He patted the powder from his hands.

“You don’t want
me
to be mad?”

“I need a favor,” I said.

“There it is.”

“No, it isn’t like that.”

Max perked an eyebrow. Maybe it was
exactly
like that, but I didn’t have time for guilt.

“I’d like you to talk to Nick, to convince him to do something for me.”

He shrugged. “Suck his cock. He’ll do whatever you say.”

Not the plan I had. “I’m need more help than that.”

“Well, I’m not sucking him off.”

“Max, be serious.”

“You don’t understand anything about the Bennetts, do you, baby?”

“Nick respects you.”

Max rubbed his face with a towel and scowled. I stood my ground. I wasn’t brave; I simply faced the one Bennett I could outrun.

“I’m the second-born.” Max towered over me. “Nick doesn’t respect me. He
controls
me.”

“That’s not true.”

“Always has, always will. It’s the way Dad raised us.”

“But can’t you—”

“Baby, Nick can oppose Dad, but one word from me? He’d rather a dead son than a crippled one.”

I had no way to comfort a man who was worth more to his father dead than alive. We all had our reasons for hating Darius. At least it unified us.

“I have a plan,” I said. “If you promise to help, we can stop Darius. We can save your life and prevent him from—”

“From what?” Max grinned. “Your life is already over, or don’t you get that?”

“And here I thought we were trying to be optimistic.”

“You’ve been kidnapped. We made you drop out of school and every one of your social circles. Nick forced you into a leave of absence from your company. I don’t care what he told you. You will never get the power back, not after you promised Atwood Industries to an unborn, imaginary child.” He paused. “And if by some miracle we knock you up? You really think you can finish college and run a company if you’re nursing some brat?”

I didn’t let him intimidate me. “Then you see why I need your help.”

“Yeah. Life’s a bitch when you have no other options.”

“Stop it, Max. I’m asking as a
friend
.”

“I’m not your friend.”

“Then I’m asking as your step-sister.”

Now he sneered. “Spread your legs and ask me again,
sis
.”

“Max—”

“Run along, baby. Go sweet-talk Nick and get Reed to drool over you. You don’t want me involved.”

“Nick won’t listen to Reed. You’re the only one who can get in his head.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m the one who’ll help.”

“It means you’re the only one who can.” I stepped closer. “I know you try to make yourself into some kind of monster, but I’m not afraid of you, Max.”

“You will be, one day.”

“Don’t say that.”

His aggravation faded, but the darkness remained, layering his voice in threat and…something else. Something that prickled me with goosebumps.

Remorse
.

“One day…you’re gonna hate me,” he said. “The things I’ve done, the punishments I give?”

“It’s not true. You do it to protect me.”

“One too many lashes, and it’ll happen. I’ll break you.”

The thought broke only my heart. “Max, I trust you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“I’ll never hate you.”

“Don’t make promises.” He was never gentle, but he tugged on the collar around my neck as though it were a caress to my cheek. “I can apologize for everything, but you’ll eventually realize my words are worthless. You will hate me, and I won’t try to convince you otherwise.”

“What are you talking about?” I didn’t fight as he drew me closer. I lost myself in his unforgiving muscle. “Max, I can handle anything you give. I’m stronger than I look.”

“I’m not going to be the man who tests you.”

“You already have, and I’ve survived it.” I bit my lip. “I’ll prove it.”

“You have nothing to prove.”

“I want to apologize for hurting you,” I said. “Let me earn your forgiveness.”

“Nothing to earn, baby.”

“I’m
offering
.”

My pulse leapt as Max leaned in, his scent a masculine tang of sweat mixed with leather and spice.

“Don’t tempt me, Sarah.” His words layered in threat and heat. “I’ll only warn you once. If you want to get hurt, I’ll hurt you. Nothing would piss off Nick more than sending you to him with a pussy full of seed and lashes on your back.”

Something primal existed between my step-brothers, a competition I didn’t understand. I belonged to Nicholas, but that didn’t mean Max wouldn’t take his pleasure at the expense of his brother.

He tossed his towel away. Max yanked my dress over my head. I shuddered, suddenly trapped within his clutches. He pulled me to a piece of exercise equipment with too many benches, straps, and weights for me to figure out. He stretched my arms up and wrapped my hands over a support bar built into the equipment for chin-ups.

“You don’t move your hands.”

I arched an eyebrow and released my hold.

Max’s slap struck my breasts. The lacy bra protected me from the harsh strike, which only annoyed him. He wrenched the bra away and tore my panties down.

“Uh-oh.” I returned my hands to the bar.

“I warned you.” He kissed my shoulder only to rock me with a harsh bite. “You’d think a girl in your condition would listen.”

“I don’t have a condition.”

“Not yet.”

“Not ever.”

“We’ll see.” Max bit again. I winced, but he liked that. “Always resented Nick’s orders, but, baby, this is one command I am
eager
to obey.”

Goose bumps prickled me as the gym’s cool air brushed my flushing skin. He followed the trail over my arms. Max’s hands were seldom gentle, yet I leaned into his grip.

Growing up, I imagined soft kisses and tender touches and all the romance of the books and movies. I never once hoped I’d be trapped and bound, taken and shared.

And I never thought I’d be at the mercy of my step-brothers and their lust. It wasn’t about following orders or tasting something forbidden.

They all desired the same thing.

To conquer me.

The Velcro wasn’t a good sign. Max strapped my hands to the bar over my head.

“Restraints in a gym?” I whispered.

He shifted behind me. His stare tickled like a caress against my curves. “Wrist wraps, for lifting.”

“Oh.”

“You wandered into a perfect playroom, baby.”

That I did, and I wasn’t sure if I regretted it yet. I squirmed. Max looped my leash over the bar, forcing my chin higher. He admired his work.

“You make a beautiful captive.”

“Do you really consider me a prisoner?”

“You really want an honest answer?” He pressed against me. His hardened cock throbbed, aching for a promised release. “Nick’s not here to save you.”

“I don’t need to be saved.”

“You sure about that?”

Yes. He wouldn’t save me anyway. Nicholas was too obsessed with securing my safety. He’d impregnate me any way he could, even if it meant using his brothers.

Even if it meant breaking me to conquer everyone else.

Max demanded my submission with a sharp spank. But Nicholas?

How could I deny a man who twisted my hatred into passion and healed me with undeniable love? He ruled me, just as he’d rule over the Bennetts, the Atwoods, and all the world if he so chose. And, as a symbol of his control, he gave me to others. A taste, he called it.

Maybe he meant to create an heir to steal my company.

Maybe he thought it was the only way to save me.

But I understood him now. Nicholas offered me because he liked it. He savored the power he held over his brothers—not only in his orders to take me, but in their borrowed indulgences.

Nicholas was proud to pull me from beneath them and return me to
his
bed under
his
authority. No matter what they did, his brothers were left with only the memory of my skin against theirs.

And Max played into his hands, either willingly or because he had no other choice.

Not that it mattered when he had a naked woman bound for his entertainment.

Max parted from me to retrieve an item I’d either love or hate. How cruel did he plan to be today?

“Jump rope.” He tucked the wooden handle under my chin. The rope tightened in his fists, the beaded, plastic kind I remembered from when I was a kid. “Hate these things.”

The last time I tangled in jump rope, I fell and chipped a baby tooth. Josiah and Mike thought it was hysterical.

“I’m not a fan either,” I said.

“It’s hard on my leg.” Max positioned behind me. “I do it anyway.”

“Why?”

“Gotta have pain to see improvement.”

That wasn’t it. I knew better.

“You mean, you punish yourself because you’re in pain,” I said.

The rope whistled through the air before it struck, and the dozens of beads connected with my back in a sharp, blinding crack.

I surged forward, but the restraints trapped me. I shrieked. Max loved the sound.

Served me right. I shouldn’t have pried into his head.

But that didn’t mean I’d stop.

“Easy, baby,” Max whispered. “We’re just getting started.”

“I can take it. Can you?”

“I told you not to tempt me.”

“Answer my question,” I said. “All this work, it’s not just exercise.”

The jump rope whipped as unforgiving as any belt. The snap of the beads scared me more than the sting, but I lurched forward as the rope sliced harsh against the tender flesh of my hips.

The bruises that faded would be replaced. My pale skin no longer freckled with the dusting of innocence, but flushed against the constant threat of punishment, humiliation, and sadism.

Max dug his fingers into the welts where the rope kissed. “Why else would I exercise? If you’re calling me vain…you might be right.”

“It’s not vanity.”

“You don’t think I look good?” He fisted my hair. “Baby, you just voluntarily offered your ass to get whipped. Don’t lie. You fucking love how strong I am.”

The lick of the jump rope couldn’t compare to the threat of his hands. Nothing stilled me as effectively as his grip over my neck. I warmed in ways I shouldn’t have warmed, but I stopped trying to understand why every raw sensation blended delight with confusion. Pain was just another form of lust.