Step Demands (Taboo Steamy Romance) (3 page)

Lance laughed and pulled himself free, my body already mourning the loss of his cock. "I'll definitely be giving this place a good review on Yelp," he grinned.

"I'll make sure to give you extra room in the crotch of your trousers," I grinned back.

"Oh fuck, the suit!" he cried, laughing. "My new stepmom is going to hate me."

"Your stepmom? Is that the bride?"

Lance found his boxers and tucked his cock back inside. I tried not to wave a forlorn farewell. "Yeah, my dad is getting remarried in the morning."

My blood ran ice cold. "Your...dad...in the morning?"

He looked at me with furrowed brows. "Yes, that's why I needed the suit done so quickly. I'm the best man." 

"Lance?"

"Yes, Melanie?" God he was so fucking sexy, this couldn't be happening, could it?

"Who is your Dad marrying?"

He sat down on the platform and pulled his socks back on, somehow even making that mundane action sexy. "Um, strange question, but okay. I've never met her, but my Dad is crazy about her. Says she's a real dynamo in the sack."

Oh god

"Her name, Lance, tell me her name."

"Karen?"

"Oh shiiiiiit," I leaned back heavily on the counter, feeling like I was falling backwards through space. Lance hopped to his feet and was at my side in an instant. "Why are you so pale? Melanie? Are you okay?"

"I'm in a wedding tomorrow also," I said slowly. "My mother's. My mother's name is Karen, Lance."

Lance sat back heavily. "You're kidding."

"I am definitely not."

"So we're about to be...?"

"Brother and sister, yup."

"Well, fuck me," Lance exhaled heavily.

"Already did that," I reminded him.

"It was pretty good too, wasn't it?" Lance raised an eyebrow at me.

"It was...amazing, Lance. The best fucking fuck I've ever had, and that is
not
flattery."

"Soooo, I'm just spitballing here, but...does this actually change anything, Melanie?"

I sputtered. "What do you mean, of course it does! Our parents are getting married, we're going to be family!"

"Not...technically," he said slowly. "We'll be stepsiblings, not full brother and sister..."

"No, Lance. My mother would flat out kill me."

He smirked. "From what my Dad has told me I tend to believe you. But Melanie, does she actually have to know?"

I started to protest. Of course my mother would know, she made it her mission in life to be in my business as much as she could. There was no way I could keep my love life a secret from her.

Or could I?

Lance watched eagerly as a slow smile spread over my face. Nodding encouragement, he reached over and clasped my hand. "I've got money and connections. I can make things happen that you wouldn't believe. It's what I do. I can fly you to my place on my jet and no one need be the wiser. We can stay at hotels, visit private getaways."

"And then sit across from each other at Thanksgiving."

"It'll be tough keeping my hands off you," Lance said solemnly, "but I'm willing to make the supreme sacrifice in order to keep fucking you senseless."

I giggled against the back of my hand. "I can't believe I am even considering this, but...yeah. Yeah Lance, that sounds...," I considered, "...fucking hot."

He grinned. "I'm glad you think so because I think fucking my sexy stepsister is going to be my new favorite hobby. Screw yachts."

"Will you screw me
on
a yacht?" I asked him, my lips hovering close to his.

He bent his head down and brushed his thumb across my lips before growling against my mouth," Sure sis," he whispered. "Whatever you want."

Did you enjoy this book? I’ve got a surprise for you! Keep reading for a FREE copy of one of my sexy taboo stories, STEPBROTHER DESTINY! - Nikki

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

I’m Nikki Wild, and I live in Southern California with my cat, my loving husband, and a genuine creeping fear of bad wine. I’ve been writing independently for three years now, and I’m in love with my readers every bit as much as I’m in love with my words! Every story I release brings me joy and pleasure, and knowing I’m able to spread a bit of that happiness to others makes every day of my life just a little bit better.

Thank you for giving me the chance to live my dreams. Thank you for giving me the chance to be an author. I owe everything to you, dear reader, and I hope in repayment, I can excite your senses and make your every night just a little bit better.

– Nikki Wild

Stepbrother Destiny

By

Nikki Wild

Copyright 2015 Nikki Wild

All Rights Reserved

Although I hold the copyright to this naughty story, this ebook is completely
DRM-FREE
copy and you can read it on any device you wish to with zero restrictions. You paid for this story, and you deserve to be able to enjoy it on any device you see fit.
THANK YOU
for supporting an Independent Author.

–Nikki Wild

Stepbrother Destiny

(Taboo First-Time Pregnancy Romance)

What’s inside this very naughty taboo story?

What started as a ski holiday at her billionaire stepbrother's cabin has turned into a prison sentence. Snowed-in and stir crazy, Chanel has had just about enough of her family, most of all her maddeningly cocky stepbrother Mark.

But when the forecast calls for another two feet of snow overnight, Mark proposes a little game to keep warm. As their parents sleep soundly down the hall, Mark shows Chanel that forbidden fires burn the hottest.

Maybe this snowstorm wasn’t just the whims of weather…

Maybe it was destiny.

Turn the page, and let me sweep you away into a world of dirty fantasy…

Thank you for supporting an independent author! Just for my naughty readers, my entire catalog is now FREE TO READ to anyone with a
Kindle Unlimited
subscription!

Be sure to check out my entire naughty Nikki Wild catalog by clicking RIGHT HERE!

You might be interested to know that I offer special discounts, new release notification, and FREE EXCLUSIVE TABOO CONTENT to anyone that subscribes to the very naughty TABOO DESIRES list. So go ahead, sign up is easy and I will NEVER send you spam or share your e-mail address with anyone.

Sign up for the TABOO DESIRES e-mail list by clicking RIGHT HERE!

STEPBROTHER DESTINY

"...expecting another twenty-four inches before this storm is over."

My stepfather clicked off the battery-operated radio. "Well, that's that then," he declared. "I'm going to bed."

"Throw more logs on the fire, would you Dean?" my mother shivered, pulling the wool blanket closer around her shoulders.

"Yeah, yeah," my stepfather grunted, stumbling down the two steps from the elevated kitchen and down into the sunken great room.

My mother shook her head. "He's just grumpy," she sighed dismissively.

I nodded. "We all are," I agreed.

"I'm not," my stepbrother declared, with a wide grin. "It's an adventure!"

I rolled my eyes inwardly. Mark had always been a relentless optimist, confident to the point of arrogance. He steadfastly refused to see this for what it actually was: an unmitigated disaster.

Oh sure, the weekend had started out wonderfully. The powder was perfect, and my stepbrother's new skiing cabin sat right next to the slopes. I relished being able to wake up and get a jump on the rest of the tourists, getting in a few great runs before the crowds showed up.

And even before the weekend, I had been thrilled. Mark's company had just gone public and he was feeling lavish. And whenever my stepbrother was feeling lavish, I always liked to be right in his line of sight.

It wasn't hard. Mark was ridiculously easy on the eyes. That handsome face of his, topped with that floppy hair that he was perpetually running his fingers through in a sexy but unselfconscious way, that trainer-honed body that he like to show off in tight ski sweaters...yeah all of those things made it very easy to look at Mark.

Listening
to Mark, well, that was another issue entirely.

I had been listening to him non-stop for three days now.

The storms rolled in the last night of our stay. I had all my bags packed already, my boarding pass already printed and folded into my purse. It had been a nice visit, but I knew what would happen with too much family togetherness. My stepfather would drink too much and challenge Mark, never quite getting over the sting of having a son who did so much better in life than he did. My mother would whine and plead, begging us all to get along, martyring herself in the most annoying way possible. I would retreat into my room and sulk, somehow still a brooding teenager when it came to my family, even though I was on the wrong side of twenty-five.

And Mark would be above it all, somehow. Still grinning, still joking, even as the situation deteriorated. It was like he didn't believe bad things could happen to him, so they just...didn't.

And now that a bad thing had happened, he refused to admit it.

"It's not a goddamned adventure," I seethed. "I have a job. I have appointments. I have..." I searched for an appropriately dire consequence and couldn't find one. "...plants that are dying," I finished, lamely.

Mark snorted into his Scotch. "When this is all over, I will buy you some new houseplants, Chanel," he promised me, laughing into the back of his hand. "I wouldn't want you to go one moment without your houseplants."

I blushed furiously into my drink. "Go to hell Mark," I seethed. Mark laughed all the louder.

My mother sat up in a huff. "Well," she announced, "I'm going to bed. I don't need to sit up and listen to you two bicker like a couple of children." She punctuated her tirade by stomping across the marble kitchen tile and down the hallway to the guest bedroom.

Mark turned to me, wide-eyed, and started giggling like a schoolboy caught goofing off in church. I rolled my eyes even harder, trying and failing to keep the smile from playing around my lips. "I think she's handling it almost as well as you, sis," he told me in between gasping laughter.

"Oh go to hell, Mark. You have no idea what it's like being…" I couldn't think of what it was I was trying to say. The word I was going to use was "normal."

Because my stepbrother definitely was anything but normal. Superhero good looks mixed with superhero smarts was not a normal trait.

But my resentment of him was completely normal.

Mark spread his hands innocently. "Hey, the way I see it, were all enjoying an extra long vacation together. I have more than enough food, more than enough logs for the fire, and the power should come on at some point. We have booze, we have books, and we have cards. What more could we ask for?"

Privacy?
I thought. But instead of speaking my mind, I looked down at my empty drink, swirling it around so that the ice cubes clinked against the glass. "I could ask for more bourbon, I suppose," I smiled.

Mark laughed in triumph. "There it is! There's my sister smile. You should try doing that more often."

"Oh really?" I arched my eyebrows. "And why is that"

He grabbed my glass and turned his back on me his broad shoulders filling out the dove-gray cashmere sweater a little too well. "Because it makes you look really pretty," he told me matter-of-factly

He was out of reach of my swat and I think that was deliberate. "What are you saying?" I demanded.

Mark turned and handed me a glass filled to the brim with Chanel colored liquid. I gulped looking at it, there were at least four shots in there. I was going to get hammered if I finished that.

I lifted it to my lips, as my stepbrother knocked back a huge glug of his. "What I'm saying is," he cleared his throat, "is that you look really pretty when you smile, Chanel."

I blushed all the way down to my toes. And steadfastly stared at my drink. Was he being serious? Or was this some sort of horrible tease. I could never tell with Mark. The normal rules didn't apply to him.

"So what's your plan?" Mark asked.

I opened my mouth and croaked, "What do you mean?" There was an implication in his question that I did not understand.

Mark gestured towards the hallway. "You going to bed or what?"

I shifted on the barstool. Sleep was the last thing from my mind. I was filled with angry pent-up energy, that creepy crawly sensation of cabin fever. If someone asked me to right now, I would gladly run a marathon, and probably have energy left over to ski down a black diamond slope.

I shook my head "I'm not sleepy."

Mark's eyes twinkled. "Well good then, you can keep me company." He stepped off of the kitchen and into the sunken living room, moving to stand over the fire and rub his hands over the warmth.

I moaned. "Just promised me we're not going to have to have some life-changing talk. I've had enough of those to last a lifetime this weekend."

Mark laughed and turned to an end table, opening a drawer. "Nah," he said, "how about a game instead?"

I sank into his deep leather sofa, mindlessly rubbing my fingers over the buttery softness. It smelled like wealth and good taste, only one of those things I actually attributed to my stepbrother. He must've hired a designer. "Sure, whatever…" I sighed. The Bourbon was strong, and I yawned unobtrusively into the back of my hand. The alcohol was burning a penetrating heat through my body, hotter even in the fire that roared in the grate. I grabbed the woolen throw blanket off the back of the sofa and snuggled up underneath it contentedly. Bourbon made being with Mark actually tolerable. I grinned sleepily.

"What are you smiling about?" Mark teased as he began dealing cards.

"You playing host," I shot back.

Mark looked up from his cards, a wounded expression knitting his eyebrows together. "Playing?" He asked. "Why do you say I'm playing?"

I shifted uncomfortably in the sofa. "Well…" I gestured futilely.

Mark sat back on his heels. "Oh, I get it," he said, all the warmth streaming from his voice. "You think I'm showing off, don't you Chanel?"

"Well…" I hedged. I slid my hand around to take in the gorgeous mansion he called a cabin. A huge bank of plate glass windows would have afforded us a stunning view of the slopes if it weren't obscured by whiteout conditions. The broad deck overlooked an expansive rolling lawn that led directly to the chair lift. Inside it was all blonde wood and light, accentuated by dark touches like the brown leather sofas and cast iron appliances. The whole place oozed money and careful attention to detail. "I mean, it's understandable that you would," I tried to soften the sting of my words. "This place is gorgeous."

Mark bent his head, his heavy lids shading his deep brown eyes. His long dark lashes cast a shadow across his cheekbones that danced in the firelight, angling up the swooping line of his sculpted cheekbones. The effect was breathtaking and he had no idea that it was even happening.

"I'm not trying to show off, Chanel," he retorted, my name on his lips like some kind of curse word. "I'm trying to have a good time with my family."

"Oh never mind, I don't know what I'm talking about," I laughed breezily.

Mark shook his head as if trying to clear it. "Wish I had a tape recorder when you said that, sis." He arched one eyebrow as he glanced at me devilishly, the dimple in his left cheek coming out of hiding.

I took another sip of Bourbon, even though I was already feeling incredibly drunk. That was the only explanation for why I kept looking at Mark the way I was. There was a softness about him that I had never seen before. Maybe it'd never been there before.

I leaned forward eagerly, wanting for the very first time to please him instead of antagonize him. "So what are we playing?"

Mark sat back up again. "How about a little five card draw?"

I raised my eyebrows. "I have no idea how to play that."

"That's okay, I can teach you."

There was something in his voice that made that sound like a threat. "That some kind of poker, right? Gambling?" I demanded.

Mark shuffled the cards expertly. "Yep," he agreed his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration.

I looked down at my drink. "I don't have anything to gamble with, though."

Mark was steadfastly refusing to meet my eyes, fixing his gaze down at his hands. "We'll think of something…" he assured me. "What do you have that you value?"

"Um, here?" I took another sip of the Bourbon. This conversation was setting me on edge.

"Well, yes." Mark slowly and methodically began dealing out cards.

"Well," I took a deep breath, "Here, I only have my clothes."

Mark reached over and took a sip of his Bourbon knocking back an entire shot in one open throated swallow. "Then we play for clothes."

A shiver went through me. His words echoed in my head, ringing like a bell that wouldn't stop tolling. "You mean, you want to play strip poker?"

Mark nodded, still not meeting my eyes. He seemed to be waiting for my reaction, testing to see if he had pushed too far.

I took another sip of the Bourbon and stared into the fire. The swirling flames were mesmerizing, and the heat flared across my cheeks. Getting to see Mark with his shirt off. Was it worth the risk?  I didn't know how to play poker, not at all. I could end up completely naked in front of my fully-clothed stepbrother and then what would I do?

Thinking about what I could do made me blush all the harder.

"Okay," I choked in a strangled whisper, barely able to get the words out. "Let's play."

Mark sat up and quickly dealt five cards face down. "Five card draw, nothing wild," he announced.

"Whatever that means," I nodded, reaching for my cards. I looked down at my hand. "Okay, what now?"