Stepbrother HOT! (The Stepbrother Romance Series - Book #3) Page 2

  He kept trying to get us all involved, to get us to talk about things, and I was getting more and more tired by the moment. “Oh! Look at that Scottie—it’s just like your piece, Jaxon!” Bob said, pointing at the TV. We all looked and pretended to be amused at the fact that the Scottie piece looked like the Scottie on TV.

  “If they somehow had a breed that looked like a wheelbarrow, I’d be really impressed,” I said, trying to do something—anything—to do my part in holding up the stupid situation Mom had forced us all into. Bob laughed too hard at my joke, and Mom tried to pretend like it was funnier than it was. I glanced at Jaxon; he didn’t look any more comfortable with the whole ridiculous production than I was, but of course neither of us could say anything about it. This was our punishment for being attracted to each other and acting on it. This was what we had to deal with.

  After a while, even Mom must have gotten tired of pretending to be full of joy at what a happy family we all were; she started to lose the thread of conversation, to stop holding up her end, focusing on the game with an intensity that bordered on the insane. She insisted on me buying every last property I landed on; she badgered Jaxon to pay attention. Bob must have noticed that something was going down fast—he got more and more desperate to get a good conversation going.

  Eventually, he started talking about Jaxon. “You know,” he said to my Mom, “I can see you’re really proud of how Mia’s turned out, and I’m proud of my son too—but I am shocked he’s done this well for himself. If it weren’t for snowboarding and sports…” Mom raised an eyebrow.

  “What do you mean? Jaxon seems like a smart boy.”

  “Yeah, sure, talk about me like I’m not even here, same as always,” Jaxon muttered. Bob either didn’t hear him or didn’t care.

  “Jaxon went through what they call ‘troubled’ teen years—his mom gone and all, you know. For a while there I was worried I’d end up only seeing him a couple times a year on prison visiting days.” Jaxon turned bright red, and I stopped shaking the die in my hand.

  “What?” I looked from Jaxon to Bob.

  Jaxon was obviously completely mortified by what his dad was saying about him, but even as he cleared his throat and muttered something like, “Dad, do we have to do this?” Bob was plunging into the topic.

  “Yeah, Jaxon was kind of a bad kid for a while. Still, I’m glad he managed to pull out of that downward spiral before I had to send him to boot camp or something. Snowboarding; who’d have thought?” Jaxon stood up. His face was bright red and his blue eyes were hard, his hands clenched in fists.

  “Dad. Can I be excused? I don’t need to be here for you to tell everyone what a screw-up I am. You can do that just fine by yourself.” Bob looked at Jaxon like he had no idea why his son was so angry.

  “Yes, you can be excused,” Mom said quickly. Bob started to frown, started to say something to contradict her, but Mom turned his attention back onto the game and I watched as Jaxon stormed out of the room, down the hall, away from the whole situation.

  More than anything I wanted to follow him out; I didn’t want to go with him, but I definitely didn’t want to be stuck in the living room playing Monopoly with my mom and her new husband. But if I left, it’d only start a bunch of questions, and Mom looked at me intently—I knew she’d never let me leave the room, not to go after Jaxon. So I gritted my teeth and stayed with them playing the stupid game as it got more and more boring, trying not to fidget and trying to pretend like I was having a great time, until Mom and Bob decided that it was time for them to head up to their room for the night. I cleared up the board and put it away in the closet, turned off the TV, and headed back to my room.

  I’d left my phone in my room; when I finally got in, already exhausted, I unplugged it from the charger cable and saw that I had about a half-dozen text messages—all of them from Jaxon. Hey. You don’t have your phone, but I wanted to talk to you. I scrolled through each one. I’m sorry I ran out like that this morning…when your mom showed up all I could think of was I had to get back to my room before Dad woke up. I know what we did was probably wrong, but God, Mia. I can’t handle it. We’re supposed to be some stupid family or something. God. You know I still want you, right? My heart was beating faster in my chest. I don’t know what to do about it. What do you want? We can try just being brother and sister I guess. The last one read, I don’t know what to do. I want you still.

  I stared at my screen for a while, not exactly sure of what to say. Jaxon wanted me. I couldn’t deny I wanted him. But with the situation with Mom—I couldn’t ruin this for her. She’d given up so many things for me, and she was obviously totally in love with Bob. We had to figure it out. I finally sent him a message. I know how you feel. Don’t worry about this morning…if I could have run I would have. Jaxon sent back a laughing emoji. I think…we should just stay away from each other. This whole situation is so fucked up. Let’s just give each other some space until we figure it out. It wasn’t what I really wanted to do—what I really wanted to do, deep down in my bones, was to go to Jaxon’s room and climb into his bed, instead of spending the night tossing and turning in my own bed alone. But I could only imagine how ballistic Mom would go if she went to wake me up in the morning and I wasn’t even here. After a few moments of agony, Jaxon texted me back. Okay. I don’t like it but it’s the only thing we can do, right? See you tomorrow.

  I put my phone down and curled up under the covers; I turned over and found myself on the side of the bed where Jaxon had fallen asleep—it still smelled like him, just a little bit. I knew I shouldn’t, but I breathed in the smell of his shampoo and after a few minutes I finally fell asleep.

  Chapter Three

  I tossed and turned a few times in the night, but I didn’t fully wake up until the next morning, when Mom knocked on my door. I had been dreaming—of Jaxon. In the dream, we weren’t step-siblings anymore, we were just people who knew each other; the dream suggested that Mom and Bob had just decided it wouldn’t work between them, and broke it off without everything being awful. I ran into Jaxon at school, out on the basketball court; no one was there but us. “You know,” he said, “Now that you’re not my sister anymore…” he put his arms around me and then we were kissing, touching each other everywhere. In real life, I wouldn’t think of a basketball court as the best place to get down and dirty—anyone might walk up, and there isn’t anywhere comfortable to go. But in the dream it seemed like the best idea ever. Jaxon and I were suddenly naked on the surprisingly comfortable floor, and Jaxon’s hand was between my legs, stroking my labia, pressing in deeper to rub my clit. I gasped, twisting and writhing underneath him, pushing my hips down to get better contact. I was getting closer and closer to orgasm every moment, getting wetter and wetter as he stroked me.

  Just as I was about to come, my dream evaporated. I woke up as the sound of my mom knocking on the door. I was drenched in sweat, breathing heavy, my pussy soaking wet; but the second time Mom knocked, I realized where I was, what I was doing. “Yeah, Mom, I’m awake!” She opened the door and looked in, and even as half-asleep as I still was, I could tell she was relieved to see I was by myself. I was relieved that I was actually in pajamas and not naked. She was smiling, but she wasn’t quite looking at me, looking at the bed instead of at my face.

  “Good. Breakfast in an hour and then we’re all going out to the mountain.” I remembered that Bob and Mom had agreed that we’d have the rest of the holiday together as a family—that we’d have “family days.” I sighed but nodded.

  “Sounds good,” I said. Mom turned to leave. “Mom—before we eat—can we please just talk about what happened yesterday? I swear to God, Mom…” She shook her head.

  “No. We’re not going to talk about it. Be ready for breakfast in an hour.” Mom held up her hand to keep me from saying anything else, and closed the door behind her, leaving me alone once more. An hour. I fell back onto the bed, my head among the pillows. Well, I thought; at least I had some time to take care of the most
important problem on my mind.

  I slipped my hand down the front of my pajama pants and closed my eyes, calling the dream to mind once more. I knew I shouldn’t even think about it—I should force myself to think about something else. But I thought about Jaxon in the dream, kissing me, nibbling along the column of my throat, his hand sliding up between my legs, stroking me up and down slowly. I thought about him teasing me, stroking my soaking wet folds, finding my clit by touch. Then I imagined him going down on me, burying his face against my pussy, licking and sucking until I gushed on his tongue. I started rubbing my clit with my fingers, biting my bottom lip as I thought about the two times we’d been together, my pussy getting wetter and wetter every moment. I remembered the way Jaxon had felt inside of me, how good he was—hot and hard. I twisted and writhed on the sheets, moaning as quietly as I could, feeling myself getting more and more turned on by the moment.

  The sheets and blankets tangled around my legs and my hips started moving as I rubbed myself, my fingers dropping down to my inner labia. I slid one finger inside of me while I kept stroking my clit, turning my face into the pillow as my moans got louder. I kept picturing Jaxon in my head, imagining him teasing me, devouring my pussy, imagining him thrusting into me hard and fast. In a matter of moments I was coming, arching off the bed and burying my face in the pillows. The spasms of pleasure abated after a few moments, and I lay there, gasping and panting, for a moment at least satisfied.

  I checked the time and saw that I had about thirty minutes before Mom expected me at breakfast; I took a quick shower and then blow-dried my hair—I knew Mom would want to head out to the mountain immediately after, and there wouldn’t be time for my hair to dry on its own. I braided it and got into some of my warmest clothes—thick jeans with thermals underneath, a stay-dry shirt under a sweater, thick socks—and put out my pads and helmet on my bed.

  I got to the table for breakfast just before Jaxon. As usual, there was a huge spread: eggs, bacon, pancakes, and fruit. Mom and Bob were having their coffee, eating in near-silence. I sat down, expecting another barrage of conversation openers from my new step-dad, but apparently he got the memo about the new family situation being awkward. I wasn’t sure which was worse: the need to keep up appearances and pretend like I was really interested in getting to know my “new family” or the deep silence that covered everyone at the table. I wasn’t about to break it.

  It was the longest breakfast I can ever remember having; nobody really spoke, except to ask someone to pass something or another. Bob and Mom weren’t acting their usual newlywed selves, but I didn’t know why; I couldn’t imagine that Mom had actually told him what was going on between Jaxon and me. I thought if she had there would be an end to the happy family times theme of this holiday nightmare. I looked around the table a few times as I tried to eat as quickly as possible; Jaxon still looked angry and I wondered if it was because of his dad talking about him the night before, or the whole sorry situation. I couldn’t be sure—every time I looked at him, Jaxon was staring down at his plate.

  I decided it was probably for the best; it was hard enough not to think about Jaxon—how hot he was, how good he was in the sack—without him looking at me. I tried to decide which would make me more miserable: Jaxon totally ignoring me, or Jaxon being a constant temptation, acting the way he had the first day or two that we’d been on vacation, showing me around the house, taking an interest. I’d told him the night before that it would be better for us to give each other some space, but I almost regretted it after the dream I’d had. I knew it was wrong, and I knew that I shouldn’t give into temptation, but I still wanted him. It was going to make the whole stupid, long day even worse, and I knew it; but I couldn’t make myself stop wanting him. I could only force myself to ignore him, and hope that my mom would eventually forget about finding us in bed together.

  I was more than happy to finish the food in front of me. “Are we still going out to the mountain?” I asked, finally breaking the thick silence that had hung over all of us. Mom looked up from her plate, startled.

  “Of course, sweetie,” she said, her voice soft but her eyes still hard as she smiled at me. “A nice day of skiing and snowboarding for all of us. You should go finish getting ready.” I nodded and took my plate into the kitchen, setting it in the sink before I headed back to my room. I didn’t want to spend an entire day only a few yards away from Jaxon, but unable to talk to him about what really mattered. I didn’t want to spend an entire day around my mom, knowing that she blamed me for ruining the holiday. I wanted to go back to the campus and pretend the whole thing had never happened at all; but I would just have to suck it up. I went into my room and checked over my gear, made sure my board was in good shape. At least, I thought, I’d be on the mountain, and that was something. I’d be doing one of my favorite things. That would help the situation at least a little bit.

  Chapter Four

  At any other time in my life, a trip to the slopes would be the exact cure for whatever was wrong with me. When we left the house in Bob’s SUV, all of our stuff loaded into the back, Jaxon and I sat as far away from each other as we possibly could. Up front, Bob and Mom had regained some of their coziness, and I had to listen to them teasing each other and telling jokes about the virtues of exercise. My stomach was churning and I regretted how much I had eaten for breakfast that morning. I shifted in the seat as we drove out to the mountain—farther away than the one that Jaxon and I had gone to before; it was a resort, complete with a lodge that doubled as a hotel. We wouldn’t be staying the night, but the lodge would be there for us to grab lunch and maybe dinner, and any snacks.

  We finally got to the mountain and Jaxon and I grabbed our boards while our parents both took their time gathering up their skis. “This is ridiculous,” Jaxon murmured. I couldn’t help but agree; but I thought, as long as I was boarding the day couldn’t possibly be that bad.

  Jaxon and I were careful to take separate lifts up to the top of the slope; I wished I could have the time to talk to him, but it would only make Mom suspicious if she found out about it. Instead I just decided to focus on getting in some good practice and having fun. If I could manage to ignore Mom and Bob, it would be even better.

  Of course, it wasn’t as easy as that. Mom insisted on us all going down the mountain together again and again—she wanted us to race, she wanted to see who could do the best tricks. She was playing the family togetherness idea to the hilt. After a while, fortunately, she and Bob got all involved in each other once more, totally ignoring Jaxon and me. I decided that I was going to just keep going down the mountain and back up again on the lift, over and over again, until I was exhausted. I had a few moves that I needed to practice before major competitions began, assuming I could still bear to be on the team.

  I couldn’t stop watching Jaxon as he made his way down the mountain; I couldn’t stop thinking about the whole stupid situation. We wanted each other, but we couldn’t have each other. We couldn’t even talk about the fact that we wanted each other. We were siblings by marriage; our parents had had no idea that we’d even known each other. I kept remembering the sight of my mom’s face when she’d opened the door to my room and found me and Jaxon there, naked. I had ruined everything for her—her entire picture of a big family, happy brother and sister. I could tell she was struggling to keep things to herself—that she didn’t want to tell Bob. She wanted to pretend like it had never happened; she didn’t even want to listen to my side of it—because that would make it real. If we never talked about it, it was just something she’d imagined.

  I went down the slope again and again, trying to pull off the harder tricks I’d been teaching myself, but I couldn’t seem to find my rhythm. Everything was off. Normally I would be able to put every thought aside—I’d gone snowboarding once during final exams week in high school and been able to put every thought of chemistry and statistics behind me completely. But this situation hung over my head way more heavily. I couldn’t stop thinking about it
—the way that I wanted Jaxon, how guilty I felt about how upset I’d made my mom. Instead of getting better at the tricks I kept falling; I seemed to miss the mark on my spins, and when I did aerials I anticipated the landings, instead of timing them properly. I decided to stop for a while, hoping it was just jitters or something like that.

  Jaxon wasn’t doing much better; I watched him going down the slopes, watched him from a distance as he hit the half-pipe setup they’d built specifically for boarders. He never got injured, but he was trying riskier and riskier things, and barely managing to land them—sometimes not landing them at all. I hoped my mom was having a better time than I was; I was miserable.

  I saw Mom and Bob at different points in the day—they at least seemed happy, and I hoped that I could just be happy for Mom and just deal with the crap with Jaxon another time. If I kept trying, I had to be able to forget all about him; I grabbed a snack at the lodge, and I breezed past Jaxon as best as I could back to the mountain. If I could just find my rhythm, I thought—everything would be right in the world once more. I went to the top of the slope again, and tried to hit my speed. I tried it again and again and again until I was exhausted. My legs were screaming with a deep-down ache, and I knew I’d gotten more than a few bruises from the tumbles I took. I knew I would be in pain the next day, but I didn’t care; the snow and the cold made me numb down to my bones, in spite of the layers. If only my brain could be as numb, if only my heart could be as numb as my body was. It would be a million times easier to deal with the rest of the vacation if only I could stop caring, stop feeling so guilty, stop feeling so ashamed. If I could stop wanting Jaxon. If I could just be a normal girl on a vacation with her new family.