Stepbrother Gigolo (A Stepbrother Romance Book 1) (3 page)

Kara

Shitting bricks does not even begin to describe how I felt. Yeah, I was so confident earlier - meeting a gigolo? No problem. Having sex with him? Errr...

I admit it. I was nervous, excited, scared, anxious - take your pick.

More importantly, I wasn’t ready.
Nowhere freaking near
. I kept switching between a red dress and a black dress, then a white dress and a teal one, then a strappy top with jeans. What did it matter? I was the one paying, right? What did he care?

Secretly, I hoped he did - at least a little bit. How stupid was that? Did it matter if he found me attractive? Would he be any less good at doing the deed? I turned to look in the mirror at myself, still standing in my underwear.

Come on, Kara. Get your shit together, girl.

My iPhone started ringing, causing me to jump. "Hey, Emma."

"Are you ready? Please tell me you're ready."

I put the phone on speaker. “Nope.”

“Well, get a move on. There’s been a slight glitch.”

“Elaborate.”

“The agency called me. Nick Carlisle isn’t coming. The stupid meathead had an accident at the gym earlier today.”

My heart sank. “Shit. What happened?”

“He tried to lift a weight he couldn’t, got stuck in the apparatus and popped his shoulder out. Like, totally out. He’s in hospital and everything. Sounds like a major fuck-up on his part. But don’t worry, the agency is sending a replacement called Ethan.”

I shook my head. “Christ, my stepbrother is called Ethan,” I laughed. “How awkward would that be? Anyway, what does he look like? Is he up to Nick’s standard?”

“He’s not on the web site,” Emma replied. “Apparently he’s super-exclusive. You’re only getting him as a super-special apology from the agency.”

“Well, lucky me, I guess,” I sighed. “Quick question. Black dress or red dress.”

“Which one is lower cut?”

“Uh, the red one,” I replied, wincing. “What difference does that make?”

“Don’t be going there, Kara. You flaunt those puppies, girlfriend. Red all the way.”

“Okay, okay, I get the picture, but how can I
flaunt those puppies
as you put it when I feel like I could puke? Like
right now
. What if I’m so nervous I totally forget what to do? Like, even how to kiss? Tongues, no tongues? Which?”

“You are being ridiculous.
Ridiculous
. Forget how to kiss? Please. Just think of it as feeling horny and picking up a guy in the bar. You both know sex is the next step. It’s no different.”

“Well apart from the matter of $5000.”

“Good God, enough with the jibber-jabbering! Boobs up, legs out and flutter those eyelashes. There’s nothing to it and, for crying out loud, please enjoy it. It’s costing an arm and a leg. When I speak to you next I want to hear a happy voice, not this self-doubting drivel. Chill out and go with it. Love you.”

With that Emma hung up leaving me to do some firm talking to myself. Really? Was I really going to do this? Yes I was completely
freaking
the shit out, but if I was honest with myself I was excited. Deep down my stomach was dancing with butterflies and felt a little giddy.

I couldn’t put getting ready off any longer. I knew my clothes might not be on for long but I did want him to have
something
to take off, keep the suspense going and all that.

Shit! Underwear!
I grabbed the black lace balconette bra with matching lace French knickers from my suitcase. Stockings or no stockings?
No, girl, show your legs
. They were toned and shapely, especially when I wore heels. “Calves to die for,” Emma always said.

Shifting side to side as I struggled to pull my dress down I’d actually forgotten how tight it was. The last time I wore this was for that prick Mike; that was months ago now and I guessed I must have put on a few pounds since then as my ass suddenly seemed the size of a Mack truck. Staring at myself in the mirror, I focused on all the bits about my body that I shouldn’t, certainly before I met some hot guy.
You look good
, I said to myself, trying to drown out any negative thoughts.
Repeat after me - a curvy body is good
.

I paced around the room. 7.30pm seemed like an eternity away not so long ago, but the time had come.

Three knocks at the door.
Shit, he’s bang on time. Shitshitshitshit….

“It’s open,” I shouted as I turned and walked away, taking one last long, deep breath before spinning back around to face him.

This was it. I was going to have sex with a gigolo.

Ethan

I hit the button for the 5
th
floor and stood right in the center of the lift. The corners of my mouth started to turn upward as I felt the two women on either side burning their eyes into me. A few sniggers and whispers from them could only mean one thing. They thought I was hot. I mean, who the hell wouldn’t?

The doors glided open and I turned to hand the women a business card before I headed down the corridor. “Have a good evening, ladies,” I smiled, knowing damn well I’d be getting a call from one or both of them soon.

Room 528, 527…that’s me, 526
. I checked my Patek Philippe watch to find I was a few minutes early. I slowly headed back down the corridor, composed myself and headed back to the room. Punctuality is paramount. If I’m booked for a certain time, then I’m there when I’m supposed to be - never early and certainly never late. It’s a cardinal sin; generally, a woman can be a little tense before these meetings and the last thing I want to do is make her even more nervous by hanging around waiting for me.

It’s all about customer satisfaction – before, during and after.

I knocked the door three times. The disembodied voice on the other side called out. “It’s open.”
Hmm. Nice voice. She sounds…young.

I stepped inside the room and my eyes were immediately drawn to her tight, perfect ass.
Well, hello.
The night had just improved dramatically. Her long wavy hair hung just below her shoulders.
A redhead with a cute ass. And I’m getting paid for this?

“Hi Kara. I’m your replacement, Ethan.” She casually turned to face me. “Kara? Holy fucking Christ!” I shouted in disbelief. “Is this some kind of joke?”

"You have got to be shitting me," she replied. It was
her
. My stepsister. My goddamn, head-in-the-clouds, airy-fairy, arty-farty, haven't-seen-her-in-three-years-and-don't-particularly-want-to
stepsister
. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

I closed the door behind me. “What am
I
doing here? This is Vegas. I live here! What the fuck are
you
doing here?"

"I had a meeting," she said, looking at the floor. “And, um, my friends had arranged a surprise for me…”

I shook my head in disbelief. "Please, for the love of all that is good in the world, tell me this isn't happening. What the hell were you thinking? You were going to pay for sex?"

Her jaw dropped. "And you were going to charge for it! Don't be such a freaking hypocrite! What are you, a male escort?"

I clenched my fists, feeling my heart pounding in the center of my chest. My lips were dry, my head swimming. I glared at Kara, furious. "I prefer the term gigolo."

She walked slowly towards me, one slender leg after another, in towering high heels that made her look sexier than I should ever possibly want her to be. "Well, gigolo," she said, jabbing a finger into my chest," I think it's fair to say this particular appointment is over."

"Damn right it is," I muttered. "Shit, Kara, what the hell are you doing hiring someone for sex anyway?"

"Who said I wanted sex?" she replied, angling her chin upward in a vain attempt to maintain some sort of dignity. "I might have just wanted companionship for the night."

I burst out laughing. "That, little stepsister, is a complete crock of shit and you know it. Every woman that books me wants sex. They might beat around the bush, so to speak, but it always ends that way."

"You couldn't resist slipping in a vagina joke, could you?" She sneered. "And it wasn't even a good one."

We both stared at each other for no longer than a few seconds that felt like hours. My God, she looked good. "I see you went for the push-up bra, then."

"I see that all you do is still look at women's tits."

We both broke out into smiles. "Okay, you got me. Some things never change, right?"

She paused for a moment. "Maybe we should start again. Nice to see you, stepbrother."

"Same." She awkwardly put her arms around me and I hugged her right back. She didn't just look good, she felt amazing. We broke apart and she hurriedly walked over to the other side of the room to grab a bottle of champagne. "Well, you may as well have a drink while you're here. I'm paying you enough."

I took the glass from her. "Consider this complimentary," I smiled. "100% family discount and all that."

We both sat down. This was the moment where I usually got to know a client, made some small talk, before inevitably moving in for the kill. You could usually tell when it was time to move things on; usually because there was nothing more to say. After all, there's a point where a woman gets over her nerves and just wants to be fucked. This time, obviously, felt alien to me. I wasn't just making small talk. This was personal.

"So, you're a gigolo for hire?" Kara said, giggling. "Not a career path I was expecting you to take. So much for coming here to work in a casino. You big fat liar."

"I couldn't tell mom what I really do, could I? She would have had to take up permanent camp in her church, praying for my soul every fucking day."

“Have you gone to church to confess your sins?” Kara laughed.

"No chance. If I walked into a house of God right now I'd probably burst into flames."

Kara sipped at her champagne. "Why do you do it, Ethan?"

"Why do you pay for it?" I scowled.

"Do you always have to answer a question with another question?"

"I need to maintain my air of mystery and obvious superiority," I grinned. "Fine, for the money. Happy? People want what I have. It makes me an awful, awful lot of money. And let's be honest, my prospects aren't exactly wide-open, are they? I missed the memo when they were recruiting people like me to be a doctor or architect."

"Still stings that you never got to go to university, huh? Poor little Ethan, overshadowed by his younger stepsister. Stop with the bleeding heart shit. We’re both too old to play that game anymore.”

I grinned. “Still got that fire, haven’t you? So how are you, anyway? What brings you to the glittering lights of Las Vegas?”

“Same as you. Money. I had a meeting with a big hotel on the strip. They want to commission some of my artwork.”

“Wow. Impressive.”

“Not really. I have lots of clients here.”

“Your shit is all over Vegas?”

“You’re so supportive,” she sighed, rolling her eyes. “What are you, an art critic who works out? That ‘shit’ as you put it takes me a ton of time and effort. Not to mention creativity.”

“I’m creative,” I smiled. “I constantly have to come up with new and interesting ways to screw other men’s wives.”

“You must be so proud,” she winced. “Excuse me while I throw up in my mouth.”

There was a sly, juvenile part of me that enjoyed teasing Kara. But then she did this thing – this tiny, inconsequential thing that most people would probably never have even noticed. But I did.

She blew her lower lip upwards to send a strand of hair flying over her eyes.

Yes, it was nothing. But in that moment, that perfect little moment when somebody does something that they don't realize has made you suddenly focus your attention completely and utterly on them, she looked perfect. I felt my throat go dry and my heart beat a little faster, the way it had when I used to look longingly at her back home. We didn't live in the kind of community where a relationship between stepsiblings would ever,
ever
be viewed with anything other than complete and utter, repugnant and vitriolic disgust. No one would have cared, of course, that we weren't actually related. It was no different to my father and Kara’s mother being together. But some communities can't be changed.

"Have I told you how pretty you look?" I said.

She squinted at me, a slight smile forming. "No," she shrugged.

"Well, then. You look really pretty."

"Thanks," she giggled.

"What's so funny?"

"You don't normally do compliments, Ethan. Or at least you didn't when we used to live under the same roof."

"Maybe I've learned some humility at long last," I smiled. "Plus, I'm just stating a fact."

Kara sipped at her champagne, crossing one leg over another as she stared at me. "Are you coming onto me?"

"Now, what would make you think I would do that?" I walked slowly towards her, sensing her receptiveness. Maybe it was the alcohol or the shock of seeing her after all these years, but if this was ever going to happen, it was going to happen now.

"Your father would be mortified."

With those five words, Kara stopped me dead in my tracks. "Why did you have to bring him up?" I asked, my blood pressure rising. "I'm my own person. I can do what the hell I want."

We both sat down opposite each other. "Sorry, I didn't realize that was still so raw. Have you spoken to him?"

“Nope. And why would I? He kicked me out, remember? I stopped worrying about his approval a long, long time ago. Every night I walk away with five thousand dollars in my pocket, I remind myself of how far I've come. I don't need him. I don't need anybody.” For a split-second, Kara looked hurt. "Sorry, I didn't mean…"

"No, you're right. You've been getting on just fine without me or anybody else, right? So how long do you think you'll be doing this?"

"As long as I want. If the money flows, I'll keep doing what I do. It's no different for you, is it? You may not fuck people for a living, but you've made compromises. Your stuff is hanging in hotels and boardrooms, not galleries. You've gone where the money is, just like me. Isn't that a form of prostitution in itself?"

She stared at me, slowly seething. "There it is. There's the Ethan I know so well. Just when we were making a connection, getting to know each other again, you have to revert back to asshole mode, don't you?"

"I'm not being an asshole. I'm just saying that we’re not that different, that's all."

"There's a reason my mother left your father. As a misogynistic prick, you should understand."

In that split second, with that single comment, Kara had flicked a switch in me that sent me completely off the rails. Without even thinking, I threw my champagne glass across the room, smashing it on the wall opposite us.

"Jesus, what the hell are you doing?"

I stood over her, my blood boiling. "Don't ever, ever compare me to that son of a bitch again. We are nothing alike. Nothing! I'm not saying he didn't treat your mother terribly, but she was no angel either – just like you."

Kara stood to face me, looking up slightly at the five inches I still had on her, even when she was wearing heels. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice unwavering. "That was below the belt. But neither of you could stand a strong woman. We've both been through enough to know that I have a right to have a thick skin. Maybe we’re more similar than we realize. We've both been through a lot."

The seconds that followed with us toe to toe, our bodies almost touching, were agonizing. Our eyes stayed fixed on each other, neither of us knowing what to do next. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to wrap my arms around her, pull her body to mine and kiss her the way I should have years ago. As far as I had known, I was coming to this room to have sex with a woman. But that had changed completely. I didn't want to just have sex with the woman in front of me, though ripping at her clothes and underwear, getting completely primal with her, would have been part of the act. But I wanted more than that. I wanted to make love to her.

"You should go before we do something stupid," Kara said in a whisper.

"You're right, I should," I said, contemplating the opposite. "I should. I will."

I made my way towards the door. "Sorry about the glass," I muttered under my breath.

"There's an opening of the new-look lobby at the Pacific Hotel tomorrow evening," she said as I opened the door. "Some of my art will be on display. I'd like you to come."

I paused for a moment. "We rub each other up the wrong way, Kara," I replied, looking back at her. "Plus, if you see me again, will you be able to keep your hands off me?" I joked.

She bit her lip. "Maybe. Maybe not."

"Then you have your answer," I said before leaving. "It was nice seeing you again, stepsister. But you don't need me in your life. Go off and do incredible things, like you always have."