Page 15 of Stepbrother Obsessed

But those big tits are MINE! the voice in my head screams in fury.That cunt is MINE! That woman is mine, mine, mine.

The chant forms an unrelenting cacophony in my head as I hurtle down the highway. Seriously, what the fuck was she doing? I let out a scream in the privacy of my vehicle, unable to contain my rage, and suddenly, it happens. I don’t really see it but there’s a semi on the freeway and FUCK! My last thought is of the gorgeous girl.Kristie, my mind cries.Please forgive me. I love you. Thank you. Please, please ...

7

Kristie

It’s been two years since I saw Nick at the wedding, and my life’s changed so much that it’s almost unbelievable. Yet one thing has turned out unexpectedly sweet, and that’s my son. I chuck Riley under his chin, my heart filling with love as he burbles at me with his chubby cheeks and toothless smile. Maybe I lost Nick ...but the handsome physician gave me his son in his place.

“Okay sweetheart,” I murmur. “Enjoy dinner, okay? Mommy’s going out now. Is that okay? You have Amy to take care of you.”

My son babbles happily, waving his arms in the air before his babysitter comes to sweep him up in her arms.

“He’s fine,” Amy reassures me as the baby squirms a bit. “We’re going to have a good time together, right Riles? Are you ready for a bubble bath? But finish your peas first.”

“Ba!” my son squeals delightedly in return. “Peas!”

I smile because Riley is the light of my life, and an unexpected boon after my encounter with Nick. Despite my belief that I wasn’t in my fertile period, I was wrong. I suppose a pregnancy is always a possibility, seeing that Nick’s a virile alpha male, while I’m a fertile young woman in her early 20’s. Yes, we conceived a child at my sister’s wedding, and my heart squeezed hard as I looked at the home pregnancy test. By then, I was already back in Vegas and sequestered in my apartment.

“Oh my god,” I breathed. “Holy smokes.”

Should I tell the father? Should I inform Nick that I was expecting his child? After all, there’s no way I’d terminate, or put up the baby for adoption. This child was created from the passion we experienced together, and I was carrying him or her to term, full stop.

But memories of our last time together also filled my mind: Nick’s aghast expression. The terror on his face, and the fact that he practically ran out of the room in a rush to get me Plan B. Of course, he never returned with said Plan B, but it’s because Nick saw me kissing Steve afterwards. I get it. My lover thinks I’m a super-slut who would sleep with a father and son simultaneously. He was disgusted by my actions, and tossed me away like yesterday’s garbage.

Except I got muchmorethan what I deserved because Riley is a miracle. The tot looks just like his father with the same dark hair and sparkling blue eyes. He even has Nick’s dimple in his cheek, and the same mischievous expression when he wants something that’s just out of reach. My heart swoops and soars every time I lay eyes on my son because he’s a daily reminder of the man I adored, even if Nick has no idea that he even has a child. Thephysician was so dead set against pregnancy that I felt Ihadto have his baby in secret. That, and of course, the fact that Nick hates me.

But the pregnancy has completely changed my life. My waistline thickened, and my face swelled. My appetite was through the roof, and even my doctor questioned the amount of weight I was putting on. But everything was fine. Sure, I gained eighty pounds during my pregnancy, but Riley is happy and healthy, and that’s all a mother can ask for. The problem is that my career hit the skids because of my changing figure, and never recovered. At first, there were a few jobs for feminine products and maternity clothing, but even those dropped off after a while, and I was effectively unemployed.

But it was okay because I had plenty saved. I’ve never been a big spender, and the rent on my apartment was relatively cheap. Besides, I was pregnant and didn’t want to stress out about money. I maintained my lifestyle, drawing down from my bank account, and put thoughts of budgeting out of my mind. That would be dealt with later.

Except my baby’s now one, and I can’t ignore the fact that I’m almost out of funds. It’s sad, really. I’ve lost some of the weight from the pregnancy, and yet the jobs never came back. My agent told me times have changed, even within a short two years, and that my “look” isn’t what designers are asking for anymore. Yes, they still want plus-sized curvy girls, but right now they’re aiming for someone more exotic, whatever that means. The only thing I can do is sit and wait for the cycle to turn again, although when it might happen is unclear.

But I have to do something to make money, and as a result, I’m headed to an auction tonight. But this isn’t an auction of jewelry, fine art, or valuable furnishings. Instead, it’s an auctionof girls. Yes, I’m the one who’s going to be auctioned, and my cheeks flame as I put on my jacket. I’m offering my body for sale because I have no choice. My baby needs food to eat and a roof over his head, and I’ll do anything to provide for him.

“Bye!” I say in a fake cheery voice before blowing a kiss at Riley. “Mommy loves you!”

The baby waves and babbles some more as Amy smiles.

“We’ll be fine!” she calls. “You go and enjoy yourself!”

Of course, my innocent babysitter believes that I’m headed out for a date, given my sexy mini-dress and high heels. She probably thinks I’m going to meet a handsome man for cocktails, before heading to a restaurant to enjoy flirtatious banter and delicious food. What she doesn’t realize is that I’m not meeting one handsome man – I’ll be meeting a roomful of them.

But this is my life now, and I have to provide for my son. I take an Uber to the Dreamland Hotel, and pause for a moment because the building is relatively unassuming. It’s one of the older places in downtown that’s seen better days, with a straggle of patrons making their way in and out. I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s an all-you-can-eat buffet inside, along with a lot of mylar balloons floating around as décor. It’s definitely not what I expected for a billionaire auction, but maybe that’s the point.

“Over to the back,” I murmur, pointing to the right. “Yes, they said there’d be a black door.”

“Sure,” the Uber driver shrugs. “No problem.”

The vehicle pulls to a halt, and then the car door opens as a nondescript man in a suit nods at me.

“Miss Linwood?” he asks in a neutral voice.

I swallow hard.

“Yes, that’s me.”

“Welcome,” he says while escorting me to the black door. “Club Duality is expecting you.”

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