Read Stepbrother Studs: Warren: A Stepbrother Romance Online
Authors: Selena Kitt
Stepbrother Studs: Warren: A Stepbrother Romance
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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!
Harmony comes home from four years at boarding school hating the older stepbrother who sent her there with a passion. Grass hasn’t even grown over her poor mother’s grave when Warren inherits his father’s billions and sends his stepsister packing!
Now that she’s home, Harmony is determined to make Warren mad in every possible way. If that includes going out with Hamilton, a much-older friend of the family, she’ll make the sacrifice. Especially because it secretly pleases her to no end that it just might make her big, giant, sexy jerk of a stepbrother a teensy bit jealous…
Except Harmony doesn’t know the danger that lies waiting for her in the shadows. She doesn’t know why her stepbrother really sent her away, or what history there is between Warren and Hamilton that irks her hard, determined stepbrother far beyond any petty jealousy.
But Harmony’s about to find out. She’s about to be given a lesson by her handsome, fiery stepbrother that she’s never going to forget.
By Selena Kitt
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MORE STEPBROTHER STUDS:
FIRST TIME WITH MY STEPBROTHER SERIES:
Stepbrother First Times: Baby Kisses
Stepbrother First Times: Baby Love
Stepbrother First Times: Baby’s Big Night
Stepbrother First Times: This Time, Baby
Stepbrother First Times: Welcome Home, Baby
I stood in the doorway of the parlor, just off the foyer, waiting for my date to arrive. When he’d knock, I’d count to twenty, then make my way slowly to the front door. I didn’t want to appear too eager—Hamilton might think all this primping was just for him, and then I’d be fighting off his attentions all evening. So far, he’d allowed me some space—said he was willing to woo me.
Just the thought of sharing intimacies with Ham made me shudder.
Not that he wasn’t handsome—in a sophisticated, slightly metro sexual sort of way—but I just wasn’t that into him. He’d been my parents’ friend—was fifteen years older than me—and I wondered why he’d be interested in an eighteen-year-old girl. Sure, men told me all the time how lovely I was, but
really
—what could a mature man like Hamilton see in me besides an energetic sexual partner, a bit of eye candy to cling to his arm. I didn’t mind clinging to his arm, but I’d never fuck him.
The fact was, I was only using him to make Warren angry.
Ever since I’d graduated from boarding school, my stepbrother ignored me. Something that stung me deeply. Had he always despised me? I hadn’t read the signs before our parents’ deaths. He’d been a doting brother, all the way until he’d been handed the reins of his father’s corporation. A billionaire now, why should he waste even a second of his precious time on a lonely, devastated younger sister—one who didn’t share a drop of family blood?
He’d rushed me off to boarding school so soon after the funeral, I’d been left dazed. When I’d needed him the most, he’d abandoned me.
Revenge was the only reason I’d agreed to go out with Ham. Warren hated him.
“I see you’re going out again.”
Warren’s voice came from behind me, and I jumped. “You shouldn’t sneak up on me. You gave me a start.”
His gaze trailed down the slim, navy gown I’d chosen for the date.
Did he find me at all attractive? I’d been told by the saleswoman in the exclusive dress shop that the navy silk contrasted well against my pale skin and natural, platinum hair. That the color brought attention to my deep blue eyes.
After glancing at the back in the mirror, I’d handed her my credit card without another thought. Demure in the front—in the back, the dress dipped all the way to my ass.
I wore the diamond earrings Warren’s father had given my mother on their third anniversary. Her opera-length pearls were knotted between my shoulders and glided on my silky skin with my movements. Mother would have approved. She was the mold by which I’d been formed. Remotely beautiful, seemingly untouchable, but always there was a hint of the whore. Men had flocked to her.
I’d even dabbed her perfume behind my ears—just so that I would feel as though she hovered, somewhere just out of sight. A constant reminder that this privileged world I traveled in wasn’t mine by birth or through my own efforts. I was here because my stepfather liked fucking his secretary.
“Let me tell Ham you’re indisposed.”
Since his voice was perfectly even, I didn’t have a clue what he was thinking.
“I feel just fine, but thank you for your concern.” I turned away my face to watch the door, knowing I couldn’t begin to keep my composure while our gazes locked.
His mouth tightened. “Be careful around him, Harmony.”
“I’m of legal age, Warren.” I raised a brow. “I’ll see whomever I please.”
“And if he wants to fuck you?”
Shocked, I drew a deep breath. “If
I
want him to fuck me, it’s my own business.”
The doorbell chimed.
“Don’t wait up. I may be all night.” I forced a smile and, with a little more sway in my step than normal, I made my way to the door.
At midnight, I turned the key in the lock, trying my best to be quiet. The last thing I wanted was calling any of the staff’s attention to my appearance. I smoothed my hair back as best I could and lowered the door handle. The door swung open so quickly, I was unprepared and began to fall over the threshold.
Strong arms enclosed me. The scent of Warren’s natural musk filled my nostrils. For a moment, I clung to his arms and simply breathed. My heartbeat evened. Inside, I grew calm.
Once my feet were beneath me, he set me back, then stared.
I met his gaze as steadily as I could. Well, as calmly as a girl with a bruised cheek and torn dress could.
“What the hell happened to you?” His dark brows drew together in a ferocious frown.
I’d never heard him speak in that tone before—harsh and slightly hoarse.
I quivered, but reminded myself he wasn’t angry because he cared. I lifted my chin.
“Nothing I didn’t invite,” I lied. How could I admit I’d completely misread Ham’s character? The last thing I wanted was for Warren to gloat because he’d been right.
“The hell you did!” He gripped my upper arm and marched me through the parlor, down the corridor to the library. Once there, he pushed me toward the center of the room. An antique chandelier glowed brightest in that spot. He cupped my chin and lifted my face, his gaze studying my cheek.
“Harmony.” He drew a deep breath, then closed his eyes for just a second. “Did he hurt you... anywhere else?”
There was the slightest quaver in his roughened voice, and I shivered. Drawn by the intensity of his stare, I gave a shallow nod.
“Where?”
I glanced away. My mouth trembled.
“My inner thighs. They’re bruised,” I whispered.
“Did he rape you?” His voice was a tense whisper.
I shook my head. “Once he had my legs apart, he couldn’t...”
My mouth trembled, so I pressed my lips together. The tears I’d been fighting welled in my eyes. I hated that he saw them. Hated that knew how stupid I’d been.
“Let me see.”
“But he ripped away my panties.” My breath hitched.
“Harmony, let me see.”
I let him turn me. His fingers gently pushed the dress off my shoulders, then past my hips. Nude, except for my rhinestone heels, I stood shivering as he walked around me then knelt.
His hands glided softly up my inner thighs and touched the telltale bruises Ham’s pinching fingers had produced. For a moment he was still, then his fingers inched upward. He traced the red line the elastic bands had dug into the creases between my thighs and my pussy.
I couldn’t help the little whimper that leaked from my throat. How many times had I dreamed of him touching me there, and now, it was simply to examine the hurt another man had caused.
He stood and, again, his hands moved over my skin, stopping at my breasts, which he lifted and examined. When he touched the side of one, I winced. He’d found another mark. He walked behind me, his palm gliding over my ass.
“We should call the police. Bring assault charges against him.”
“No!” I glanced back at him. “And have the press start comparing me to my mother? I won’t be seeing him again anyway. I told him that tonight. It’s why he... drank.”
“And you got into the car with him? Why didn’t you call me?”
“And have you say I told you so?” I gave him a cool glare.
His eyes closed again. A look of the deepest pain tightened his features. When he opened his eyes, I nearly lost it. There was regret shining there. And love.
The next morning, I dressed in slim yoga pants and a figure-hugging, long-sleeved black shirt. I’d discovered more purpling marks on my arms and didn’t want to incite Warren to anger again.
After he’d examined me, and then given me his shirt to wear as I made my way upstairs, he’d left me at my door, promising we’d talk again in the morning.
Because I was feeling foolish and ashamed, I avoided breakfast and arrived late in the kitchen. I’d just grab coffee and a piece of fruit, then hide in my room for the rest of the day.
Only, Warren was still seated at the kitchen table, a newspaper spread in front of him, a carafe of coffee and a full cup beside his elbow. “Were you trying to avoid me?”
I fought a smile. This morning, I didn’t feel quite so bleak. Strangely, a feeling approaching happiness warmed me. I gave him a slight smile. “Did you drink all the coffee?”
“Bring a cup. Sit with me.”
His words were a little terse, which shaved an edge off my lighter mood. I got a cup from the cupboard, then wondered where cook was. Warren must have sent her away to keep our conversation private.
I took my time picking up and smelling fruit before I selected a kiwi and took a seat beside Warren at the table.
He poured me a cup of coffee, but I waved away the tray of sugar and other condiments. I wasn’t a child who needed to doctor my coffee any longer. I preferred it black.
I took a sip, still avoiding his gaze.
“Have you decided which college you’re going to attend in the fall?”
I shook my head. “Not yet. I was hoping—”
“Decide. We need to get you moved.”
“Wow.” My mood soured. I set down my cup. “I didn’t even finish my coffee and already you’re shoving me out the door again?”
“You’ll be safer.”
“I’m safe here. I told you—I won’t be seeing him again.”
“I’ll arrange an apartment and security. You can take the next couple of months to acclimate to your new home.”
I slumped in my chair. “I don’t want a new home.”
His gaze narrowed on my face.
“Do you hate me so much?”
“I don’t hate you.” His glance veered away. A muscle at the side of his jaw tensed.
“But you can’t wait to see the last of me.”
“That’s not true.”
“From where I’m sitting, it’s exactly the truth.” I shoved my cup away, not caring when the coffee sloshed over the rim to stain the white linen tablecloth. “Grass hadn’t even grown over my mother’s grave before you bundled me up and abandoned me on the steps of that boarding school prison.”
I shook with anger, and my voice was rising, but I didn’t care. “Had you been itching for years to see the last of my mother and me? I was fourteen and you denied me the comfort of familiar surroundings while I mourned?”
“I didn’t hate your mother, and I didn’t want you to go, but... there were complications that had to be handled. Things you… didn’t need to know.”
“Well, I’m not a kid anymore Warren. Tell me now. Make me understand why you’ve been such a bastard.”