Forbidden: A Stepbrother Secret Baby Romance (6 page)

I stick my tongue out at him as he turns his back. He’s right: in my mother’s eyes, he can do no wrong.

I manage to find pregnancy-friendly cocktails (bacon-wrapped dates) that are so good I devour six before I find my secret chair. I sit down on it; it creaks under my weight. In one hand, I have a glass of sparkling apple cider. In the other I have a porcelain plate loaded up with biscotti, smoked salmon on toasted baguettes, and roasted gruyere-filled apples; tucked under it is a starched white linen napkin. The plate is heavy in my hand as I take the cloth napkin and spread it over my ample bosom and stomach like a picnic blanket.

I sigh, happy to be away from the room of noisy people and my mother flitting around from one person to the next. She’s wearing her Socialite Mask. The food is intensely good. I have to stop myself from moaning out loud. After I polish off everything on my plate, I put my aching feet up onto the edge of the cement planter filled with a riot of bougainvillea. The sound of the crashing waves not too far in the distance immediately fills me peace. I want to take a nap here in this dark corner; the gentle buzzing of conversation behind me, the ocean before me, and nobody around. As I close my eyes to drift off, I hear footsteps approaching.

I listen closely to make sure I don't recognize the manic tapping of high heels that indicate my mother, mid-meltdown, searching for me. Thankfully, the footsteps are dull and decidedly male.

"Hello?" I call out into the darkness. A face appears around the corner, alight in the glow of a phone screen. It's Jax. "Oh," I say involuntarily. "Hi." I feel a stab of annoyance. Why can I not utter anything other than monosyllables in his presence?

Jax looks up and freezes at the sight of me. He puts his phone down and his face is once again cast in shadow. "I didn't know anyone was back here," he says, taking a step backward as if afraid I’m going to bite him.

"I'm hiding from my mother," I confess. "She confiscated all of the chairs." I hesitate for a moment. "You can stay here, if you want. Nobody else has come back here so I think you're safe if you're trying to hide, too." I say the last bit without entirely meaning to. I am annoyed that he has lied to me and I'm none too ready to give up my hiding place. So why did I ask him to stay? I feel a tug below my navel and pinch my arm.

Step. Brother.

He is my step brother.

Jax rocks back and forth on his shoes for a moment as if trying to decide. "This is normally where I go when I visit my father. This is kind of my spot, actually. So if you really think about it, I’m the one who should be giving you permission to sit here.”

Rage prickles through me. He doesn't sound like he’s kidding. "I'm pregnant and exhausted, excuse me for taking up your space," I retort. What’s his problem? "And by the way, I don't appreciate the fact that you lied to me earlier today. What the hell was that? What's wrong with you?" My words are returning to me and my rage is complete and hormone-fueled. I am embarrassed about earlier but I can’t let him know that. Instead, I’m going to take my anger out on him.

Jax grins at me. His feet move and there is a gentle scraping of woven fabric as he leans against the stucco wall. "I thought...I thought you were one of the staff," he replies evenly.

"The staff? You think my mother would hire an eight-months pregnant woman to work an event?" I scoff. "You clearly know her just about as well as I know your father."

"You weren't exactly forthcoming about who you were," Jax spits back.

"I'm not in the habit of disclosing my identity to complete strangers. But at least I didn't lie about it. Mister sommelier.”

Silence falls over us again. I am suddenly aware that the buzzing conversation from the party has stopped. I hear the screech of feedback from a microphone and panic sets into my soul. "Oh God," I say, struggling to pull my feet off of the planter and slip my shoes back on.

"What?"Jax asks me, sounding panicked.

"They're about to do the toast," I say, unable to heave myself out of the rickety chair. "A little help here, please?"

Jax is in front of me in a flash. His strong hands pull me up easily, the callouses scraping the soft skin of my palms. Tingles erupt across my body. I trip slightly and fall forward into him, my belly stopping me before my tits are smashed against his chest. I suddenly realize with our height difference that my bellybutton is digging into his crotch. I feel a growing hardness in his pants and I blush. He doesn't let go of my hands quite quickly enough.

"We've gotta go," I say, interrupting the tension-filled moment. "My mom's going to kill me."

We run as quickly as we can with me setting a slow, lumbering pace. I'm sure I look ridiculous waddling across the pool deck toward the back room of the house. We make it to the open back doors just as my mother is taking the microphone.

"First off, I'd like you all to meet my lovely daughter, Tessa, who is also here with my soon-to-be-born first grandchild." My mom's eyes fly wildly around the room as she looks for me. I raise my arm into the air and wave. Her eyes alight on me and then flash briefly over to Jax, who nearly ran into me after I stopped abruptly. A quick look of disapproval flashes over her face. "Ah, there she is. Wave to the crowd, Tessa." My mom plasters on a smile as the crowd applauds my appearance. "And right behind her is my new son, Jax. I'm glad to see you and Tessa have become fast friends."

There is a cold evenness to her voice that unnerves me. I tell myself I am assigning meaning to her words that she hasn't intended. I wear a fake smile of my own as I turn around to clap politely for Jax.

Our eyes meet for the briefest instant and I see fire flash across his eyes. It’s soon replaced by his typical, steely-eyed look and a cocky smirk. As soon as the toast is over, he’s gone.

CHAPTER NINE

JAX

The string music needs to fucking stop. I can't fucking take it.

I sip my glass of whiskey in the corner of the room, hoping that I'm well-hidden behind this fern. I know my massive body is easy to spot, but with any luck my father will be occupied enough with his blushing bride and the sycophants milling around to not bother me tonight. It's the last fucking thing I need.

I knock back the rest of the glass and hand it to a server carrying a loaded tray of empty glasses. "Thanks," I mutter, reaching instinctively into my pocket and pulling out a hundred-dollar bill. "Hey, wait a second."

The pimply-faced server looks back at me. He looks a little scared. "Y-yes, sir?" he stammers.

Jesus. I didn't mean to make the kid shit himself. "This is yours if you can keep that man over there-" I point to the silver-gray head laughing along with some country club asshole - "Drunk and away from me for the rest of the night. Okay?"

The kid looks wide-eyed at the money. "Uh-"

"There's another hundred waiting for you at the end of the night, okay?" I say.

He gulps and nods, smiling. "Thanks, mister!"

"Don't thank me yet," I say darkly. "Now go. His glass is empty."

The kid wanders away from me back into the crowd. I lean against the wall. I'm hopeful that the worst of the night is over; the whole crowd gathering to nod at me and my new stepsister was horrifying. Tessa. I feel a tingle go down my leg thinking of her name. Fuck, she's gorgeous. And pregnant. And my new sister.

And 100% off limits.

The forbidden nature of it awakens my dick. I can feel it rising in my pants. I adjust them hastily and try to think of anything else. My mind wanders to the size of her pregnant stomach. I’m not around pregnant women much. She’s pretty far along, though, anyone could see that. Amazing that her weasel-faced man – Bill? Sal? Perry? – was able to get the deed done. I toss back the rest of my drink bitterly.

At that moment, a slurred female voice comes over the speakers and distracts me from the thought of another man touching Tessa.

"Ooookay, ladies and gentlemen," the woman says. I peek out from behind the fern to see an overly-coiffed woman with a face pulled tight by plastic surgery holding the microphone. The quartet players behind her look panicked and stop playing mid-song. "I think that we would all like to see Cassie and Lyle hit the dance floor! Woohoo!" she screeches, the microphone emitting feedback at the excess volume of her scream. Several people instinctively throw their hands up over their ears to protect themselves from the noise. There is a smattering of applause. The woman looks irritated. "Oh come on now, don't be a bunch of fuddy-duddies! I think that the bride and the groom and the bridal party need to get out on the floor and dance!" She turns around and whispers something to the quartet. Within ten seconds, they are playing what sounds unexpectedly like a Styx song. I roll my eyes. Jesus.

Thankfully nobody's going along with this bullshit.

Right?

I look around.

Shit.

Somehow, she's managed to get the crowd on her side. The sea of people part and I see my father, drunk already, pulling Cassie out into the middle of the living room floor. Cassie looks reluctant, but there is a flush to her cheeks that implies that she, too, has been enjoying the open bar. I sigh. Well, at least nobody's chanting for me to -

At that moment, a pair of hands grab me by the arm. "Now, Jax, don't think I didn't see your hulking beast of a frame back here!" Fuck. It's Microphone Lady. She reeks of bourbon. She tugs so hard on my sleeve I'm afraid it's going to rip.

I try to object but everyone near me has turned around and started clapping. Fuck. I'm going to have to do this, or face my dad's wrath later. I peel Microphone Lady's hands off of my sleeve. She actually slaps my ass as I walk away. I find an opening on the dance floor and stand there somewhat awkwardly, alone. My father and Cassie are twirling, her head on his shoulder.

I hope against hope that Tessa's gone to piss and that nobody can find her. Pregnant women have bladders the size of peanuts, right? I look across the dance floor and see her face, shiny and slightly sweaty, staring at me. God, she looks better than she did half an hour ago. How is that even possible?

My dick starts to warm as I think about what she looks like underneath all of that fabric. Gorgeous tits, an ass that won't quit - hell, even her enormous belly doesn't bother me. I've always had a thing for pregnant women, even if I'm not interested in the end result of pregnancy. I fucking hate little kids. Sticky hands, screaming, barfing, pissing, shitting - they're like goo machines that ruin your life.

There. That did it. My dick relaxes. I'm going to have to remember that for when I'm touching Tessa in a moment. I can't be raising trouser tents on the dance floor. She'll feel it like she did earlier when I caught her in my arms. I cross the floor towards her in two strides, holding out my hand. She looks furious. Yeah, well, I'm not happy about it either. I don't like looking at the merchandise when I’m not allowed to touch.

And she is entirely off limits. Have I said that enough?

She takes my hand angrily, and I slip my other arm around her waist. Even with her protruding stomach, she is so small I can easily reach the sweet little curve of her lower back. I think for a moment I can feel her shiver, but when I see the look in her eyes I know I must have imagined it. She is just angry. She plasters on a smile for the sake of the crowd watching. We begin to move around the dance floor.

"Enjoying the reception?" I murmur to her just to see her reaction.

"Oh, yeah. It's been wonderful having to stand up all night," she hisses. "My back loves it."

I have a flash of her on her side, naked, with me oiling up her body and working out the kinks there. I blink it away. My brain is telling me to ask the question. It seems important for some reason. I do it. “How far along are you?”

“Eight months,” she says to me.

Something pings in the back of my brain. Eight months. “That’s about how long it’s been since we saw each other. Right?”

The words hang in the air between us for a moment. Tessa clears her throat. “He’s not yours,” she says. “I’ve only had sex with one man without a condom and it wasn’t you.”

My mind flashes to the sight of two lonely condom wrappers on the floor of my bedroom. “Of course not,” I say to her. Eight months. Almost exactly eight months. And what are the odds, anyway? The other half of my brain kicks in. Kids. Babies. Remember? Screaming, crying, pissing kids. Phew. That was close. "Well, this shindig will be over soon enough, I think. I've heard more than one person complain that their feet hurt."

"Yeah, well some guests have already gone to bed," she says with a bitterness I'm not expecting.

I tilt my head in confusion and then look around the room. Her skinny, asshole partner is nowhere to be found. "You talking about your husband?"

“Husband?” She laughs. “He’s not my husband. Oh, no. He’s just my boyfriend.” She gets a far-away look in her eyes. "And I shouldn't be upset that he already went to bed. He works really hard. It's just, he's been sleeping all day and I've been -"

I cut her off. "On your feet all day and you look like you're about to pop out a baby on this dance floor." Tessa looks hurt. Shit. Backtrack, asshole. "I just meant -"

Tessa shakes her head. "No, I know what you meant. I look like a beached whale right now." Tears prick at her eyes.

Fuck. I made her cry. What do I do now? I spontaneously lift my hand and twirl her around, pulling her back into my body. Hard. I can feel her stomach on my dick. I look at her face and realize I’ve managed to shock the tears right out of her. Good. That was my plan. I lean down and whisper in her ear. "You look fucking gorgeous. Don't let anyone tell you differently."

Entirely without meaning to, I nuzzle my nose into her slender neck. God, she smells good.  And she's so tiny. One of my hands could wrap around her entire head. I feel Tessa's breathing get heavier. Her belly is pressing harder into my crotch.

I realize with a jolt that the room is silent. I look around the room and see the crowd gaping at me. Fuck. How long has the dance been over? Tessa's face is unreadable. I pull my hands away from her and see that goosebumps are covering her bare arms. I hope that it's from what I said to her. My father is staring at me with harsh disapproval. Cassie looks scandalized. I kiss Tessa's hand and drop it, walking away through the whispering crowd.