Stepbrother With Benefits 1 (5 page)

I
wake
up and I'm sore. A good sore, though. A pleasant, tingling ache, and with the blankets surrounding me like a warm cloud, I feel nice. I have my head on a pillow and my leg wrapped around a leg, my arm on a chest, and...

Wait, um... my leg... and arm...?

I open my eyes to figure out what's going on, because Jake never lets me sleep with him in his dorm room and he never stays in mine, either. It kind of bothers me, because I know plenty of girls who stay over with their boyfriends sometimes, or boys who stay with their girlfriends. It's not exactly allowed as per dorm rules, but everyone does it anyways.

I'm sure Jake won't let me stay over because he knows me. Right...? He doesn't want me breaking the rules, since even in college I've built up a reputation for being the good girl rule follower. I just... it's not like that's a big rule, you know? It's not like it's actually important. We won't get in that much trouble. We'll just get talked to about it, at most, and otherwise it's no big deal.

I can't think about this right now, though. I have a headache, too. I feel weird. What happened last night?

I shift my leg a little and feel skin against skin, mine soft and supple against tight, muscular legs. Speaking of muscle, the chest my arm is draped over is nice, too. Strange? Has Jake been working out?

I sneak over to offer him a good morning kiss, and that's when I realize exactly what happened.

This isn't Jake. Ethan's laying there, staring at me, smiling. I almost kissed him! On the lips! Ew. Gross, disgusting, that's...

Holy shit! We slept together. Not just sleeping, but literally we... we had sex. Together. In his bed. In our mom and dad's house. In...

This is a problem. A big problem. Big big big problem. I scramble away from him and nearly roll off my side of the bed in the process. I probably should just do that, I probably should get out of bed, run away, go back to my room, but then I realize I'm naked. And, judging by what I felt before, Ethan is naked, too.

"Hey, good morning, Princess," he says, nonchalant.

"What the fuck?" I say. I try not to swear, I really do, but this is Ethan, and we're at home, and I feel like this is definitely a "what the fuck?" type of moment, don't you?

"Nice to see you, too," he says, flashing me a devilish grin. Yes, that's right. Devilish. Demonic. What the heck was he thinking?

Then I remember it was my idea. Yes, we were both drinking. I'm not sure either of us should have been coming up with ideas, to be honest, but this one was definitely mine. A dare. I didn't think he'd do it. I didn't want him to quit the football team, but he's always just so cocksure and confident and I wanted to knock him down a peg or two.

I think. I think that's what I was thinking. Now I'm not so sure, because along with the memories of why I dared him to do what he did comes the memories of what exactly it felt like for him to do it.

He was so
hard
. I mean, yes, that's how sex works, Ashley. I remind myself this, and it almost makes me laugh, but it's not funny. It's not! But Ethan was different. He was so vibrant and alive, his erection pulsing and pressing inside me. It felt so good. And he knew exactly what to do, too. I felt like I knew exactly what to do when I was with him. Or was that the alcohol? Did it lower our inhibitions and... well, of course it lowered our inhibitions. I mean, I just woke up in bed with my brother.

Stepbrother, I remind myself. As if that's any better! Yes, he's been my stepbrother for about three years now, but I've known him since second grade, so...

Shit. Shit shit shit. Shit. I can't believe we did this. This was a huge mistake. It's still a mistake. I tell him as much.

"I need to go. Please, Ethan, look away. Where are my clothes? I need to get dressed. I need to go."

"What's the hurry?" he asks, as if he hasn't realized what the issue is. Is it just my issue then? I feel like he should have an issue, too.

"Ethan, this was a huge mistake. I was drunk. You were drunk. I was vulnerable."

I'm making excuses now, and I know it. Yes, I still think this was a mistake, but I liked what happened, too. Not um... not the sex. No, I did like that, too. On a physical level, at least. Wow. Orgasms during sex are nice. I belatedly realize exactly what I was just thinking right there. Orgasms... plural. Yup. No real way around that. I had more than one, and they were all good.

I just... no, we shouldn't have had sex, but I liked the closeness. The playfulness. I liked eating pizza with him, watching a movie. I even liked drinking and being irresponsible, but...

This is bad. Very bad. He's rubbing off on me. Resident bad boy Ethan Colton is turning me into an irresponsible bad girl. I can just imagine him calling me his naughty girl and... and what? Spanking me?

STOP! Stop it, Ashley! Cut it out! I have to yell at myself to bring this all to a halt or I'm not sure what's going to happen next.

"Yeah, sorry," Ethan says.

This surprises me. Ethan's saying sorry? When has that ever happened before. "What?" I ask.

"Look, I didn't mean for that to happen. I don't want you to get the wrong idea here. I never thought things would go that far."

"Well, good," I say. "Now can you please go away so I can get dressed and we can forget all about this? Maybe it never happened. Maybe we were just so drunk that we think it did and all we did was fall asleep."

Ethan laughs, but we both know what I said isn't true. "Yeah, maybe," he says. "Look, I'll go make breakfast or something. You hang out here, take your time, whatever. How's your head?"

"It hurts a little," I admit. "I'm thirsty, too. I don't... I don't feel good."

And it's so weird to say these things, because this is Ethan. He's naked. In bed. We were naked in bed together. We had sex. I can't even begin to get over this. What the heck! Yes, good. Heck. That's better. I'm reverting back to my previous self. I'm not like this. I'm not some sex-crazed rulebreaker.

But I do like Ethan. Sort of. He's not so bad sometimes. He's even nice sometimes, too. In an arrogant asshole sort of way. He wanted to make me feel better last night with pizza and drinking and a movie. I never would have expected that. I would have expected him to just go out partying with some friends while leaving me home alone to wallow in self pity.

Not that what he did was much better in the end, though. Leaving me to wallow in self pity or having sex with me? Which was the better option?

I can't even believe this happened.

Ethan gets out of bed and he's definitely absolutely completely naked. I can see his butt. Ethan Colton, my stepbrother, is naked in front of me, his sexy, tight ass bared for me and me alone, and when he steps over to find his pants, I see more than a glimpse of his cock. It should be soft. Right? Um... no...

What's that thing with men? They wake up with erections sometimes, right? I don't know. I've never really thought about this before, but, yes, Ethan is definitely erect. Somewhat erect. I don't think he's as erect as he was last night when he was on top of me, thrusting into me, when I was climaxing around his cock, right before he...

Oh my God, Ethan came inside me. Oh my God. I can't even...

"What?" he asks, looking at me. "What's with the look?"

"You came inside me," I say. "You didn't wear a condom."

"Shit!" he says. "Wait, you're on birth control, right? I thought you were."

"Well, yes, I am. Wait a second... how would you know?"

He shrugs, nothing doing. "Sometimes your mom would ask me to pick some stuff up, and I'd get your prescriptions, too."

"What the hell? My mom sent you to get my birth control?"

"It's not that big a deal, Princess."

"Stop," I say. "Ethan, stop it. Please, just stop. Don't call me that. I'm Ashley. I'm your sister. I don't like what's going on here."

"Yeah, well, I'm gone. Do whatever you want. I'll be downstairs making breakfast if you want something."

"I don't think I do," I say. "I don't think I can talk to you right now."

E
than left once
he put his pants on, but he magically forgot his shirt. Magically? I think he's doing this on purpose. I don't know why. I really don't understand him. Why's he walking around shirtless? Granted, he was shirtless yesterday, too, but that was when he'd just come inside from the pool, so it made sense. Sort of, at least.

And just because I'm on birth control makes it fine for him to cum inside me? Um... no! Weird. Gross. Ugh. I've never done that before. I kind of liked it. At the time. Not now. Now it's disturbing. Disgusting.

I can't help remembering it, though. I didn't even realize it at the time, but then he bent down to whisper into my ear. "I'm about to, Ashley," he said. "I'm gonna cum."

And... I think he was going to pull out? I think? I'm not sure now. It felt like it, but maybe he was just pulling back to thrust back into me. Deep. He was definitely deep. I pulled him back. Sort of. I had my arms wrapped around him and when he started to pull out of me I clung tight to his torso and pulled him back close to me. And then...

I can't think about this anymore. Ew. Ugh. What's wrong with me? I'm not supposed to like that.

Ethan Colton is my stepbrother and he's also the only man to ever give me an orgasm during sex, and he's also incredible in bed. There, I said it. I admitted it. It's over now, right? Acceptance is the first step to... what? This isn't that. It's not that at all!

I'm going to go to my room and sleep and stay there and wait until my mom and his dad come back from their vacation. Maybe I'll call her. What the heck, what am I going to say to her? Mom, I just had sex with Ethan, and it was a huge mistake, but I kind of liked it. I liked it at the time, I mean. I don't like it now.

I can smell him cooking breakfast. I hate him. Why is he doing this to me? It smells so good. I roll and cuddle with Ethan's blankets, taking in the scent of him, his masculine warmth, along with the savory smell of eggs, cooked onions, mushrooms, sausage, and... he's making pancakes. That asshole is making pancakes. I love pancakes. With maple syrup. Mmm... and his father always gets the best kind, too. Fresh and thick, and...

Fine. You know what? I'm going to go have breakfast. I don't care.

I throw off the blankets and jump out of bed. Yes, I'm naked, but it doesn't matter because I'm alone. I tiptoe around Ethan's room looking for my clothes. Why is my bra under his dresser? How did that even happen? I stoop to pick it up and put it back on fast. For whatever reason, my panties are hanging out of his bedside table's drawer, too. I snatch them up and slip them on, and then, because I'm here and I'm curious, I open the drawer and look inside.

Right there. Right there! Right on top and right there, as plain as day, is a box of condoms. The asshole could have worn a condom at least, but, no, he didn't. I can't believe this. I slam the drawer shut and go to find my pants, which are under his bed. I don't even know where my shirt is, but then I see it hanging over a lamp.

My God, what did we do in here? This is crazy.

I'm not going to think about it anymore, though. No, I refuse. It's not my fault, it's his. It was his idea to get drunk. And he was the one who accepted my dare. He seduced me. He's the one who thrust his thick, throbbing cock deep inside me. He's the one who didn't wear a condom. He's the one who came inside me. He's...

He's the one who went downstairs to make me breakfast.

What a prick.

I
was just going
to make an omelet and a side of sausage, but then I remember that Ashley loves pancakes. I like them, too. My dad gets this amazing maple syrup. We used to have pancakes every Sunday as a treat after...

After my mom died. That was before, when Dad actually stayed home for the weekend. Then he got bogged down from work, or so he said. I was alone more often than not after that. I guess it wasn't alone, considering I always had someone here with me, but that's not the same. It's not the same as spending time with your dad on the weekend making pancakes.

I mix up a batch real quick and add it to the list of things to cook. Shouldn't take long. The stove has enough burners for everything, so it'll be quick, regardless.

Why the fuck am I making pancakes? Shit, this confuses the fuck out of me. Can't really deny that pancakes are great, though. Who cares if Ashley loves them? I sure don't. That's not why I'm doing this. That's what I tell myself, anyways.

While I'm fixing everything up, I get into a zone. I should record this. Send it in as an audition tape for Hell's Kitchen or something. Who the fuck is Gordon Ramsay? I'm Ethan Colton, bitch! America's Next Top Chef.

Nah, sounds like a lot of work. Also, I doubt chefs get a lot of action, if you know what I mean. Yeah, cooking is cool and all, but it's not exactly a pussy magnet. Unless you make pancakes for a girl who loves them, I guess.

Shit, I'm done. What the hell am I doing? I can't even begin to understand myself. This is seriously fucked up.

While I'm out of it and cooking, Ashley comes down. She's wearing the same clothes from last night, which only stands to remind me of when I ripped them off of her, revealing her soft, begging body.

Shit.

I remember kissing her. Not just her kissable lips, but her neck. I remember whispering into her ear, asking her if she really wanted to do this. You can take it back, Ashley. You don't have to dare me.

No, she said. I'm not letting you out of it that easily, Ethan Colton.

Alright, Princess. Don't have to tell me twice.

I should have stopped anyways. I really should have. But, you know what? Fuck. Burying my cock into her tight, slick pussy was like waking up from a goddamn dream. I never knew what I was missing before that, but now that I do...

Shit.

"I'm joining you for breakfast," she says, huffy and prissy, sitting on a stool at the breakfast bar. "Please make some for me, too."