Slade: A Stepbrother Romance (13 page)

“Hey,”
I said, holding out my hand, which Kellan took. His grip was weak, but feeling
him squeeze my hand afforded me a level of comfort I hadn’t expected. “I’m so
sorry. For everything…”

“Save
it,” he croaked, shaking his head ever so slightly. “I heard what Iris said,
about how she loves you, and you didn’t force her. And I heard what you said as
well, about leaving, about your mom… I get it. We’re cool.”

I
blinked at him, hard. “You’re sure?” I asked.

Kellan
gave the barest of shrugs. “Well, we’ve both been pretty stupid—you left town
like a douchebag and I OD’d ‘cause I thought the whole world was better off without
me—I figure we’ve both been idiots enough to last us for a few decades. Almost
dying kind of gives you some perspective on that kind of shit.” His gaze
shifted to Iris. “Anyway, if you can forgive and forget, so can I. Maybe it’s
the drugs they’ve got me on, but I mean it, Slade. We’re cool.”

“Don’t
you ever do this shit to me again,” Iris said, pushing past me and snatching
Kellan’s hand away. He winced, the IV in his arm jarring as she shook him. “I
mean it, Kellan Walker. If you ever even
think
about doing heroin or
taking Oxy ever again, so help me God, I will end you.”

“Right,”
Kellan murmured, gripping her hand. “No ODing, or you’ll kill me. Got it.
Sounds good.”

I
stood back and watched my family reunite for the first time in years. It felt
good to be here, to be part of something again, however new and unconventional
it was. When Iris put her arm around me and drew me in close, I closed my eyes
and relished the sensation I hadn’t felt in years.

I
felt like I belonged.

~
SEVENTEEN ~

Iris

“Damn, Iris. That was one hell of a
thank you.”

I smiled, sprawled across Slade’s
chest, the afterglow sinking in like the near-scalding waters of a luxurious
bubble bath. He twined our fingers, his left hand idly stroking my hair as I
breathed him in, his scent a delicious mixture of masculinity, sexuality, and
us.

“It’s the least I could do, since you
saved my brother’s life and all,” I replied, closing my eyes as Slade’s lips
met the top of my skull. “Jesus, Slade. You were amazing back there. I’ve never
seen anyone so dedicated to their job. It’s like you were born to be a doctor.”

When I looked up at my stepbrother,
he was beaming with pride. I laughed and poked a finger into his puffed-out
chest. “Cool it. It’s probably just the orgasm talking. Wouldn’t want you to
get an ever bigger ego.”

“I can accept that,” Slade answered,
“as long as you admit who gave you one.” When I shot him a look, he laughed.
“All right, all right. You did the heavy lifting this time. But I helped.”

“More than you know,” I assured him,
settling back into his arms.

Slade and I lay there in silence for
a long while, our synchronized breathing the only sound in my dimly lit
bedroom. It gave me time to think, to fully come to terms with everything that
had happened over the past few days. I could still hardly believe what we’d been
through, or what we’d accomplished together—how far we’d come in just a short
span of time.

Then again, seven years wasn’t
exactly short, was it? Maybe we’d only recently caught up on everything we’d
spent most of a decade trying to figure out, but the fact remained that Slade
and I had been dancing this dance for a long time, and the end was finally
here.

But that was a good thing. At least,
I thought it was.

I had never felt so safe or happy
before in all my life. Being with Slade, finally experiencing this closure, was
more than I’d ever dreamed of for us. Even in my wildest fantasies, domestic
bliss was never an option. There’d always be something dividing us, if not
Slade’s arrogance, then our parents’ position on our non-traditional
relationship.

We hadn’t even told them yet. Given
my stepfather’s transgressions, it seemed best to hold off until we knew what
we were going up against. Slade had saved Kellan’s life and saved me in a way
no one else ever could. But was it enough to mend fences between him and the
rest of the family? I honestly didn’t know.

I looked up at him through my lashes,
smiling as I caught him staring into the distance, his eyes narrowed, brows
knitting in a pensive frown. I liked watching Slade think—he was good at it.
Though I’d never admit it to him out loud, he was absolutely brilliant. I
marveled at the things he could do, the amount of knowledge he held in his big,
sexy brain.

I knew how to make him stop thinking,
though. And that was even more fun than making his face scrunch up all
thoughtful like that.

I slowly wound my way down his body
until my head rested on his hip, then stroked my fingers along his thighs.
Slade gave a little grunt of approval and moved his hand lower to caress my
shoulders, still lost in thought even as I nuzzled ever closer to his groin.
“What’s on your mind?” I asked him, letting my warm breath tease at the tip of
his spent cock, and Slade squirmed, filling me with giddiness right down to the
tips of my toes.

“I was thinking about the future,” he
said, sighing as I very lightly ran my nails over the seam of his balls. “And
about the past. But mostly, what’s next for us.” When I nuzzled the tawny
thatch of his pubic hair, he raised a brow and smiled. “I’m talking about you
and me, Iris.”

“Mmhm,” I said, easing myself between
his legs as he parted them for me. “Go on.”

“I want to stay,” Slade said, sucking
a sudden breath in through his teeth as I covered the tip of his cock with my
mouth. I flicked my tongue all along his very sensitive ridge, moving slow,
savoring the flavor of my pussy still clinging to his shaft. “I want to stay in
this town, with you, for the rest of my life, if that suits you.” He wound his
fingers into my hair and gave a little tug, forcing me to meet his eyes even
with his dick hardening in my mouth. “Because a lifetime with you, Iris? That’d
suit me just fine.”

I smiled around his cock, batting my
lashes at Slade as I swirled the flat of my tongue around his reddening tip. He
swelled in my mouth, pulsing weakly as his manhood filled up once again,
lengthening along the slick surface of my tongue.

“Me too,” I told him, gripping his
base once he’d hardened enough to do so. I watched his face slacken, his eyes
glaze, and his teeth sink into his lower lip. “I want you to stay here, Slade.
Having you here just…” I dragged my wet lips across his spongy flesh. “…makes
everything better. You know?”

“No, I don’t,” Slade said, pulling my
hair back from my face. “I suppose you’ll just have to show me.” Then he
flashed me a lazy grin while I doubled down on his cock, sucking the whole
length of him into my mouth.

Slade’s shaft pulsed a heavy beat on
my tongue as I bobbed up and down, urging him slowly, steadily toward climax.
The low purr of his voice grew louder with each passing minute, his piercing
gaze fixated on my face as I worshiped my stepbrother’s massive, and
oh-so-satisfying, dick. It had been too long since I’d tasted him, since I’d
held this much power over him and his pleasure. Slade was the kind of guy who
liked to be in charge, both in and out of the bedroom, but blowjobs? Those were
a happy exception.

I knew how he liked it. He liked the
tease. He liked the anticipation. It drove him wild. So I took my time with
him, one hand gently massaging his low, weighty balls while the other firmly
grasped his base, heightening his pleasure with quick, short strokes.

“Oh, fuck,” he murmured, a twitch
rolling through his hips. His dick spasmed in kind, warning me that things were
heating up, that soon I’d have him spilling his seed into my throat if I didn’t
stop. “Iris, baby. That feels so good…”

I relished the strained timbre of his
voice and the way his toes curled. Meeting Slade’s eyes, I sank down until his
tip was jammed into the back of my throat, then bobbed mercilessly, laving him
with my tongue as best I could in the meantime.

His grip on my hair tightened and his
eyes rolled into his skull. “Shit. Iris. I’m not gonna be able to hold back,
baby. That’s too much…”

I popped off his dick, earning a
frustrated grunt before I climbed up his body again, licking my lips. Slade
took hold of my waist as I positioned myself over his throbbing member, so
eager to penetrate me and spend its load that it sprang desirously against my
tantalizingly close entrance.

“You’ll really stay?” I asked him,
spreading my thighs and placing my hands on his shoulders. Slade grimaced and
whined as I took his cock into my body inch by torturous inch, leaning back so
he could watch his mast disappear into my dripping, succulent folds. “You won’t
take off on me again?”

“Not if you keep doing that,” he
said, angling his hips so he could thrust up to close the distance between us.

I moaned as Slade bottomed out inside
me, his girth stretching me once again. I wasn’t worried about my own orgasm
this time. This time, I wanted to feel Slade cum, wanted him to fill me so
completely I’d never be without him ever again. I knew, with that first rock of
my hips, that wouldn’t take long to accomplish. Slade was teetering on the
edge, the fire inside him already stoked by the slow tease of my tongue and
lips.

He grabbed onto my breasts, rolling
my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers as I swayed on his dick, pushing
it deep inside me with every move. Slade was growing impatient, snarling as he
lifted his hips to meet me, desperate to breach the barrier between pleasure
and mindless ecstasy. I knew how much he liked to fill me, how that primal part
of his brain jumped for joy every time he left his cum dripping out of me. That
was a need I could easily fulfill, and happily, since he was fulfilling mine.

I needed him to want me. To need me.
Most of all, to love me. Slade was willing to do that now, and better still, he
was capable. Like everything else he did, he handled me with perfect care,
providing me with everything I could have asked for—everything I never knew I
needed so damn badly.

“I’m cumming, Iris,” he grunted, and
I felt his dick tremble in warning. “I can’t stop now. I’m gonna cum inside
you, baby.”

I only bounced harder, grinning as I
looked down at his face twisted in rapture. “I know.”

Slade grasped my ass as he unloaded
inside me, filling me to the brim with thick, long ropes of his passion. I
accepted them gratefully, cooing as I watched him writhe, riding out the
exquisite sensation of truly becoming one with me. Skin against skin. Lust
mingling with lust. Slade and I weren’t just fucking anymore—we were making
love.

He cupped my face in his hands and
brought me down to him for a long, tender kiss. With his dick still inside me,
I relaxed against his frame, letting his muscular arms envelop me as he
whispered against my lips.

“I love you, Iris Walker. And I’m
staying. For you. For Kellan. But most of all, for me.” I looked into his eyes.
They were glimmering with emotion, even though he plastered that cocky smirk on
his face to cover it up. “I need you. I’ve always needed you. But there’s
something else I need, too.”

I tilted my head, frowning down at
him. “What’s that?”

Slade’s smile faded, and his eyes
grew distant once again. “To make amends,” he said.

~
EIGHTEEN ~

Slade

It had been years since
I’d gone to see my mother’s grave, more than I even cared to count. The clouds
hung low, casting everything in a steely gray light—which seemed appropriate,
if depressing. It made me think of how sunny my childhood had always seemed,
back when my mother was alive and part of it. I remembered it had rained on the
day of her funeral. Yeah, gloomy weather was definitely fitting.

I led the way up the
gravel path clutching a bouquet of lilies, making my way toward the oak that my
mother had been buried beneath—a spot my dad had paid a pretty penny for.
Following behind me were Iris, my father, and Evelyn, each of them silent as
the graves surrounding us as we made our way through the valley of the dead.

My mother’s stone was
nothing fancy, just a dark marble marker set beneath the shade of the large oak
looming over it. Its boughs sprawled out to protect its charges from the rain
that threatened to fall soon enough, while also attesting to its age. This
thing was ancient, towering above the cemetery like some kind of graveyard
guardian. I liked to think it was, especially when I was a kid. Some things
just never changed.

I stopped in front of the
oak, toe-to-toe with its collection of gnarled roots. In large, elegant
letters, my mother’s stone read:

ELIZABETH
JARVIS

LOVING WIFE
& MOTHER

Do not stand
at my grave and weep.

I am not
here; I do not sleep.

I
looked down at the simple, black rectangle sitting in the field of bluish green
grass, reading my mother’s name. It’s been so long since I’d been to see her—to
talk to her—that I hardly knew what to say to her after all this time.

How
to start? With an apology? Yeah, that was probably best. I’d been doing a lot
of that lately, which was completely warranted. Given all the shit I’d done,
all the people I’d hurt, Mom might’ve actually been the person I needed to
apologize to the most. After all, she’d raised me better than this.

“Hi,
Mom,” I said, my voice quavering as I felt my emotions flow over me like a
river. My eyes stung, and I blinked a few tears back and cleared my throat.
“Sorry I haven’t come by in so long.”

I
knelt down by the stone, setting the flowers down over where she’d been lain to
rest. She had always loved lilies, for a variety of reasons. The first was that
their stark, white color had always appealed to her. Mom liked a lot of color,
sure, but she liked simple things, too. Lilies weren’t too flashy, and neither
was she. The second reason was that she always felt they brought great comfort
to the people who often needed it the most. And the third, and probably
biggest, reason was that my father would always buy them for her whenever he’d
done something wrong.

I
closed my eyes, momentarily allowing myself to relive some of those memories.
If I concentrated hard enough, I could almost see her standing in our kitchen,
arranging those lilies in a pale vase, her blue eyes glittering like sapphires
in the snow.

“I
brought your favorites,” I told her, keeping my voice quiet so that only I and
my mother’s grave could hear. “I know it’s not much compensation for all the
time I stayed away, but I thought you’d like them. I wanted you to know I
didn’t forget.” I cleared a few leaves away, tidying up and fidgeting while I
tried to loosen my throat a little. I knew it would be hard coming back here
and having this conversation, even if I didn’t really know that she could hear
me, but until now, I hadn’t realized just how hard it would be.

“I’ve
got a lot to apologize for,” I said at last, “and not just to you, either. I
haven’t lived up to what you imagined for me, I’m afraid. But I wouldn’t have
been able to forgive myself if I didn’t come to see you today.

“I
know I told you last time that dad got married again. In fact, I said a few
other words about it, but now I don’t think that was very fair of me. I was
just so mad at him for so many things. I blamed him for your death, for finding
somebody else to marry… For a long time, it felt like he’d forgotten about
you—like I was the only one who remembered all the years you spent taking care
of us, or what happened to you that day. I’m so sorry for all of the things
that I said to him—and to you. I hated him for moving on when I still wanted
you back every day.”

Shit.
Tears were welling in my eyes again. I closed my eyes to keep them and bay as I
laid my hand gently down on my mother’s gravestone. It wasn’t the same as being
able to touch her, but it was close enough to at least offer me a little bit of
comfort.

“I
ran away, Mom. You would have been so upset at me, disappointed at the things
I’ve done… I’m so sorry. I was horrible to my stepmother, too. I treated her
like she was trying to take your place, and that was so unfair of me, Mom.
Because she never wanted that. She just wanted to love me, wanted to make sure
she did right by your son. And I wouldn’t let her. And then I blamed her for
failing, when I never even gave her a chance to succeed.

“She’s
here today,” I added, a faint smile crossing my lips. “I brought her here
because I think you ought to meet her… and that I know that she deserves an
apology for the things I’ve done just as much as you or Dad do.”

I
stood up and turned, waving for my stepmother to come closer. She looked
nervous, even apprehensive at the thought of standing beside her stepson and
speaking to his dead birth-mother.

“This
is her,” I said, putting my arm around my stepmother’s shoulders to usher her
closer. “Evelyn, this is my mom. Mom, this is Evelyn. My
other
mom, I
guess…”

“Hello,”
Evelyn said, smiling tentatively down at the grave marker. “I’ve heard so many
things about you the last few years… and I was honestly afraid I’d never fill
your shoes.”

I
smiled a bit, gently resting my hand on my stepmother’s shoulder, trying to
silently assure her. After a moment, Evelyn looked up at me. She looked
grateful that I’d brought her here, but she also looked like she wasn’t sure
what else to do.

“I
wanted to talk with you about the way I’ve treated you,” I began, swallowing
hard. “I’ve treated you terribly. More than terribly—I acted like you were this
villain who’d come into my life to take my mother’s place.

“But
I know that wasn’t why you were there—deep down, I always knew that you weren’t
there to
become
my mother. You weren’t even there because of me… I was
twenty years old. I was about to go to college and leave home. I was hardly
going to be in your life—but I decided that my father’s happiness was something
that I couldn’t let happen, not if it meant him forgetting about my mother.”

“Slade,”
Evelyn said, gently putting her hand over mine. “I could never replace a woman
like your mother. She loved you from the moment you were born, and so did your
father. I could never have taken him from you.”

“You’re
right,” I said, nodding as I took her hand. “And I know that now. I should have
actually thought of how my mother would have wanted things instead of how I
wished she were still around. Mom would have been ashamed of the things I did
to you, to Iris, to Kellan, and my Dad… all of you deserved so much more than
what I gave to you. I could have learned to know you as a person instead of
seeing you as the enemy. I thought that maybe, somehow, if me and my dad missed
her enough, that she would be back. I think that after she died, I stopped
thinking like the adult I was supposed to be, and instead just acted like a
scared little child.

“You
deserved to be treated like you were a person, someone who I could learn to
like and maybe even see as part of my family. You certainly didn’t deserve the
things I said to you or the way that I behaved. I really am sorry, Evelyn.”

I
turned toward her then, noting the tears in her eyes. I squeezed her shoulder
tighter and brought her into an embrace, the first one I’d ever given her. She
hugged me back, the tension in her body slipping away, replaced by a sigh of
comfort that made my heart warm to hear.

“I
heaped a lot of blame onto you, Evelyn,” I said, casting my eyes down to my
mother’s grave again, “blame that you never once deserved. I was angry and
desperately wanted someone to pin all of my feelings on. You were the unlucky
victim of my own blind hatred. And worst of all, I dragged your daughter into
my plans. I understand if you hated me from the moment you met me—I would have
deserved every bit of that anger from you.”

“I
was never really angry with you, Slade,” Evelyn said, looking into my eyes.
“Even after what happened with Iris. She came to me and she told me everything,
that you and her had done what you did as two adults, and that was enough for
me. I didn’t expect you to think of one another as brother and sister after
only knowing one another for such a short time. I don’t blame you for loving
her—not at all.”

I
smiled and pulled her into another gentle hug. Even though I knew that Iris and
I would be together no matter what anyone said, it meant so much that
someone
supported us. It had been hard to let go of so much aggression and anger after
years of stewing in my own emotions, but now that I had begun to work through
everything, I knew that I’d at least have the support of my family, including
my stepmother.

“I’d
like it if we could spend some time together—I know it seems weird for your
stepson to ask you to hang out with him, but I’d really like to get to know you
better. You only wanted to make my father happy, and that should have been
enough for me. You deserve my acceptance. And I’d like to get to know you.”

“Thank
you, Slade,” Evelyn said, smiling as she pulled me into another hug. “It means
the world to me to hear you say that. All I’ve ever wanted was to be there for
your father, and now I can be there for you, too, if you’ll have me.”

“I’d
be honored,” I said. “And I hope someday, you’ll forgive me. Not now, after
everything that’s happened, and not when I haven’t had time to really make up
for it. But I’d like it if you’d accept my apology. That seems like a good
place for both of us to start.”

My
stepmother looked deep into my eyes for what seemed like an eternity, and I
felt almost like I was exposed—left open for her to read like a book. I
remembered why I hated doing things like this, opening my soul and asking for
penance… it was what I had tried to avoid for all these years—being vulnerable.

“I
accept your apology, Slade,” she said at last, squeezing my hand. “And believe
it or not, I do forgive you. I understand how loss can change a person, how it
can make them see the world differently—even incorrectly. What’s important is
that you came to realize where you went wrong and that you had the courage to
come here today and say all of this to me. That you would share this moment. I
appreciate that you did all of this for me, and it means more than you could
possibly imagine.”

I
nodded, withdrawing just enough to feel safe again. I’d meant every word I said
to Evelyn, but this mushy stuff was starting to wear on me. “If you don’t mind
too much, I’d like another moment alone here with my mom. I just wanted to tell
her goodbye.”

“Of
course,” Evelyn said, gently squeezing my shoulder before turning back toward
Iris and my dad. I watched her go, waiting until she was out of earshot to look
back down at my mother’s grave.

“I
guess she isn’t as bad as I kept saying, huh?” I murmured, my gaze drawn once
more to my mother’s engraved name. “She seems like a really nice person, Mom.
Someone who has been making Dad really happy ever since you died. And I think,
because of her, I have someone who’s going to make
me
happy. I suppose
that I’d never have known Iris if her mom didn’t like Dad so much.

“I’m
not planning on going back out of town—except maybe to grab my things and
cancel my lease. I’m going to be moving back home, right where I belong. So you
can expect to see a lot more of me from now on…”

I
glanced over my shoulder at the others, noting their eyes were fixed on me as I
spoke to my mother’s spirit—or at least, what I’d hoped was her spirit. Maybe
this grave was more like a representative of my conscience, my very own Jiminy
Cricket. That was what mothers were, after all—our conscience, guiding us
through life, trying to help us make the right choices.