Page 6 of Her Stepbrother Master
“Well, she was caught drinking, smoking and having boys in her room, but we’ve worked it out so she can stay in school.”
Brian. Of course—they had called him first. Now he was checking up on her. She held her breath. Brad had said, “we’ve worked it out” as if he’d negotiated for her to stay at the school. She appreciated his keeping their arrangement a secret from Brian.
“Listen, she’s already been paddled for it. Considering her dad’s heart problems, I’d prefer we not mention this to him. He would snap his cap…. Yeah, I’ll make sure she buckles down with her studies and she is definitely grounded for the rest of the school year.” He turned a stern gaze on her.
Her tummy flipped at the look, her bottom throbbing more insistently as if warning her not to cross him. She still wanted to crawl under a bush and hide after what he’d done. Yet something fluttery moved inside her when she thought about being face down over his knees with her panties down. Had he been able to see her sex? She feared he had. The intimacy of it sent frissons of heat to her core.
Brad hung up and turned to her. “Did you hear that?”
She nodded, chastised. “Yes. I’m grounded for the rest of the school year.”
“That’s right. I want you to make me a list of your class times. You may not go anywhere, except to school and back without my express permission. Understand?”
“Yes, sir,” she murmured, then flushed. He was only four years older than she. Hardly someone to call sir.
But he seemed to like it, giving her a lazy grin, his eyes dropping to the neckline of her nightgown, then jerking back up.
She touched her bruised breast, remembering the animal who had tried to have his way with her that night.
“What happened?” Brad demanded.
She’d played it off earlier, as if it had been her friend who had been in trouble, not her, but not much got past her stepbrother.
She took a step back. “Nothing. I should go to bed now. Do I sleep on the couch?”
“You sleep in my bed.” He came over and led her into his room. He actually pulled down the covers for her, as if she were a child and he meant to tuck her in. It would have bothered her, except she loved his nearness – the warmth from his lips still on her mouth, the heat of his body reaching her as he stood so close behind, corralling her against the bed. The muscles between her legs clenched with excitement as images of him pushing her down on the mattress and having his way with her flitted through her head.
Funny how she screamed when the boy from Battleton tried, but the image of Brad ravishing her made her skin prickle with heat. But Brad wouldn’t have sex with her. He saw her only as a little mouse, his skinny, gangly stepsister who used to follow him around but was always too painfully timid to speak in his presence.
She climbed into bed and raised her gaze shyly. Instead of pulling up the covers, he reached for the hem of her nightgown. She froze, her breath stalling in her throat. Did he want her?
He dragged it up, not slowly, but with a business-like intent, forcing it to slide up under her poor, raw cheeks. He brought it all the way up to her armpits and then stopped, staring down at her breasts, his brows lowering.
She lifted her head to peer down. Angry finger marks still stood out, turning a puffy blue around the edges.
Brad glowered. “I want his name.”
She swallowed, pulling down her nightgown and sitting up, eager to end the examination. She had lied earlier, she did know his name, but she’d been frightened of what Brad might do. There had always been an unpredictability to him, a dominant fierceness, that made her think he just might go get himself into trouble.
Should that bother her so much?
“Tom McGuire.”
He nodded. “Thank you.”
Grasping her thighs, he dragged her back down on the bed and flipped her on her belly. He landed three hard smacks on to her tender bottom and she shrieked. “That is for lying to me earlier. The next time you lie to me, I will make you stand in the corner with your panties down after your spanking. Understand?”
Fresh tears sprang to her eyes, but her sex contracted repeatedly, thrilled by his threat. What was wrong with her? Well, hadn’t his tough guy persona always been what appealed to her?
He rolled her back over, tucked her in and gave her a brotherly kiss on the forehead, handing her Marshmallow, her teddy bear. “Goodnight, mouse.”
“Goodnight,” she whispered as he switched off the lamp.
She should have fallen straight to sleep, considering the hour and the adventure of the day, but she lay awake a long time, listening to Brad get settled, then imagining being punished by him. Or made to stand in the corner. She imagined all the things he might force her to do—strip off her clothes and stand naked before him, spread her legs and let him examine her charms, bend over and show him the little rosette of her bottom hole. Why did those scenarios excite her so much?
She brought her fingers between her legs and into her panties. Her sex was damp—wetter than she’d ever been before, and it seemed huge, as if it had swelled open to welcome her fingers. She’d touched herself in the past, but only on the outside of her panties. This time her finger slid inside her feminine folds, surprising her with its moist heat. She pushed the heel of her hand against the upper part of her mons and rippled her fingers, gliding in and out.
She replayed the scenes with Brad over and over again as she touched herself: the way he’d peeled down her panties and paddled her without mercy; the safety of standing wrapped up in his arms after he’d unlocked the bathroom door to check on her; the kiss—not passionate but sweet nonetheless; and the perfunctory way he’d lifted her nightgown—as if he owned her and had every right to inspect her body without asking. Boy, Brad really knew how to send her, as her girlfriends would say.
