Page 7 of Her Stepbrother Master
She bucked in a climax, squeezing her thighs together as her inner muscles fluttered in wave after wave of intimate release.
2
Brad lay on his back on the couch with his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling. He would make the young man who’d forced himself on LuAnn pay. The strength of his desire to avenge her surprised him, almost as much as he’d shocked himself by pulling up her gown to search for bruising. Why in the hell he thought he had the right to do such a thing was a mystery.
LuAnn brought out something in him—an unusual protectiveness and the need to nurture. It was different than when he’d turned a girlfriend over his knee or scolded her for irritating him. Those encounters had a detached quality—the need to dominate, the need to satisfy them sexually, but never the need to care for them on a personal level. He’d always been a ladies’ man—making it plain from the start that he wasn’t the boy they would marry, and if they wanted to stick with him, they’d have to follow his rules. He supposed it was LuAnn’s youthful innocence that made him want to take care of her. Or the fact that she was family. Or his memories of her as a vulnerable adolescent. If only she hadn’t turned into a full-grown woman, so lush and voluptuous…
He woke to find her in her nightgown, banging pots and pans around in his kitchen. The thin satin material left little to his imagination—the curves of her ass, the outline of her panties all too apparent. The panties he had peeled down to her thighs the night before. He sat up, covering his morning wood. This would not do. He needed to stop thinking of his stepsister this way. Little Sister. Little. Sister. Not a hot young ingénue making scrambled eggs in his kitchen. Unbidden, he pictured her as his very own sweet wife, preparing his breakfast in nothing but an apron. Perhaps she’d have a freshly reddened ass for getting sassy with him. Oh God.
He stood up and bolted for the bathroom where he splashed cold water on his face. When he came back, he found LuAnn gasping over burned eggs. “Holy hell!”
He chuckled.
She yanked the frying pan of smoking eggs off the burner and dropped it onto the yellow laminate countertop without a hot pad.
“No,” he yelped.
She gasped, realizing the problem and jerked the pan from the counter, sending it flying to the floor with a crash, eggs splattering all over the linoleum.
“Dammit all.” She bent over to give him a perfect view of her bottom, spread and lifted.
He couldn’t resist—he landed two sharp slaps to her backside. “Young lady, that sort of language does not become you.”
The truth was he didn’t care if she cursed, but it gave him a reason to swat her oh-so-attractive buttocks, so he went with it. Based on the way she jumped and howled, he’d bet she still smarted from her spanking the night before.
Her face flushed a deep shade of pink and her jaw thrust forward. “I have heard you curse many times, Brad Stanford.”
He grinned. “But I’m not a sweet girl like you.”
At that moment, someone tapped at the door and Mrs. Verlaine called out, “Hello? Brad?” Of course she’d be snooping over here if she heard a female voice.
He quickly threw a dish towel over the burn mark on the counter and crossed the room to open the door. “Hello Mrs. V.” He gave her his most charming smile.
She craned her head around the doorjamb to take in LuAnn, who was scrambling to clean up the spilled eggs. “Well, what is this?”
“Mrs. V, this is my little sister, LuAnn. LuAnn, Mrs. V, my landlady. LuAnn is a student at Sarah Wharton, but she was having a hard time getting serious about her studies while living in the dorm, so our parents thought it would be best if she finished the last few weeks of the semester living with me.”
Mrs. Verlaine gaped. “Your sister?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t see any resemblance.” She peered at LuAnn suspiciously.
“No, she takes after her father and I take after my mother,” he said, which was not a lie. He laid what he hoped was another devastating grin on the nosy woman.
“How long will she be here? There’s only one bedroom.” She glanced at the couch, which thankfully still sported a pillow and blanket from his night’s rest.
“Just a month. I’m sleeping on the couch and letting her have the bedroom.”
“Will I be washing her clothes, too?”
“I will do the laundry,” LuAnn interjected. “Both of ours. It’s the least I can do.”
“I see...well, you’ll be using extra water and electricity with two people.”
“Oh, I doubt it will amount to much difference in your bill, but if it does, I’m sure you’ll inform me,” he said evenly.
She craned her neck around for one more curious look, then withdrew. “Well, we’ll talk about it later, then.”
