Stepbrotherly Love

As I try to settle back into my routine after a tumultuous Thanksgiving family reunion, my hands tremble as I stir the bottle of blonde hair dye. My mind keeps drifting back to the feeling of Kingston’s strong hands gripping my hips as I rode Malachi’s cock. The memory makes me shiver, and I have to blink several times to bring myself back to reality—back at school, not in the attic with my brothers.

Damn it, how did we end up in this fucked-up situation? I’ve lusted after them for years, my desire purely physical in nature, but I never imagined it would come to this. They’re my stepbrothers, forced upon me when our parents married. These aren’t the kind of feelings I should have for either of them, but now I have it bad for both.

“Gia, your phone has been going off nonstop for the last five minutes,” Rayne, my bestie and now partner at school, grabs my attention.

Carefully setting the bowl down on the counter, I peel off the tight plastic gloves from my clammy hands and discard them in the nearby trash can. My heart races as I reach for my purse, its contents jostled from my frantic search.

As I pull out my phone, I see twenty missed calls from my mom. Panic sets in, my mind immediately jumping to worst-case scenarios involving Kingston and Malachi.

But then another thought crashes into my consciousness—does she know what happened between me and them? My breath catches in my throat at the possibility.

Trembling with anxiety, I press redial and hold the phone to my ear. The sound of her familiar voice comes after only two rings, her tone urgent and worried.

“Gia, thank goodness you answered! Your brother Malachi is having a meltdown. He forgot his laptop here at the house and he has an exam right now so he can’t grab it. I need you to drive it up to him.”

I lose the expression on my face, shaking my head. This was the emergency? “Seriously? He can’t go without his laptop for a day? I’m in class, Mom, I can’t just leave and—”

“He said he’ll pay you handsomely if you do this for him.”

Grinding my back teeth, I curse him out for using my weakness against me. He knows how much I want to move out of the house, so he’s dangling money in front of my face. Fucker.

“Fine.” I hang up, tossing my phone in my bag as I turn to Rayne. “I have to run home and take care of something. Think you can cover for me?”

She winks. “Always, babe.”

Blowing her a kiss, I toss my purse over my shoulder and make my way through the back room toward the exit and parking lot. It’s a hundred freaking degrees today, making my car a sauna and taking my breath away when I get in. Malachi is going to owe me for this, much more than what he’s probably going to pay me. I’ll be really pissed if it’s only like thirty bucks or something.

After I swing by the house and pick up the laptop, I’m back on the road, heading north. I’ve got a two hour drive ahead of me, so I turn on some good tunes and settle in. My thoughts are interrupted every couple of minutes when I think about facing him after what we shared. Nothing will ever be the same between the three of us going forward—holidays, family events, family dinners, graduations… weddings.

My heart stops at the mere thought of them exchanging vows with other women. Jealousy burns deep within me, despite knowing I shouldn’t be feeling this way. Even though I experienced the depth of their love during Thanksgiving weekend, it now feels like a cruel reminder of what I can never have.

Damn it.

I suppress the overwhelming thoughts as I quickly exit the freeway and speed toward their dorm building. My mind flashes back to when I helped them move in, a task I despised every minute of. Malachi playfully poked at me while Kingston’s flirty comments filled the air. Looking back now, it’s clear their behavior was more than just harmless banter.

After I pull into a vacant parking spot, I tap the phone icon on my dash. My eyes scan through the contacts until I find Malachi’s name, my finger stabbing at the screen to press call. The sound of ringing fills my car, echoing loudly through the speakers for what feels like forever.

Just when I think I’ll be sent to voicemail, his raspy, sleep-filled voice crackles through. “Hello?”

My breath catches in my throat at the sound of his voice, sending shivers down my spine. “I have your stupid laptop,” I blurt out, unable to contain the frustration and longing in my tone. “Come down and get it.”

His deep chuckle echoes through the car, a primal sound that shoots a surge of electricity straight to my damn core. A jolt of desire hardens my nipples from the memory of him suckling them, and I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks as I wait for his response.

“Nah, little sister, I’m going to need you to bring it up to me. I’m sick in bed,” he says with a cough, trying to sound dramatic.

“You’re not sick. Mom told me you had a huge exam today and—”

“Get your ass up here, Gia,” he growls.

A click echoes through the car when I look down and see “Call Ended” flashing on the dash’s screen. That motherfucker!

As I step out of the car, I quickly tuck his laptop under my arm and stride toward the towering entrance of the dorm building. A group of guys lounging in front of the doors immediately turn their heads, their eyes scanning me up and down like I’m a juicy piece of meat. Surrounded by an all-male living space, it’s no wonder there are hardly any girls around this area. The atmosphere is thick with testosterone and a sense of entitlement, making me feel a bit uncomfortable. These guys definitely give off a sleazy, almost predatory aura.

A shiver runs down my spine as I wrench open the heavy glass front door and step into the welcome coolness of the air-conditioned lobby. The space is wide open, with a wall of neatly labeled mail slots on one side and a community event board on the other. A framed black-and-white photograph from the turn of the century hangs opposite the entrance, displaying the grandeur of their college in its early days.

As I climb the stairs, a small group of guys chatting and laughing loudly echo through the stairwell. I keep my eyes forward when I pass them, not making eye contact will hopefully keep their attention away from me.

One guy smacks his friend on the arm and says, “Damn, baby.”

His buddy turns and responds with a sleazy grin, “Where you going? My room is right down here.”

I roll my eyes at their obvious attempt to hit on me. “Not even in your wettest dreams, baby,” I retort with a dismissive smirk.

The other guys let out obnoxious “Ooo’s” when I clearly shut down their friend’s advances. He clutches his chest in mock hurt as I look back at him over my shoulder. Seriously, guys can be so pathetic sometimes. Do they honestly think their cheesy pick-up lines actually work on us? It’s no wonder most of them struggle to get laid.

After climbing four flights of stairs, my legs aching and lungs burning, I finally reach the top floor. The hallway is quiet except for the distant sounds of students in their rooms. My knuckles rap against the door at the end, and I hear Malachi clearing his throat from inside.

“C-come in!” he hollers, his voice slightly muffled by the thick wooden door.

I push open the door, wincing at the loud creak it emits. The room is enveloped in darkness, and I strain my eyes to make out any shapes or figures. “What the hell, Malachi? I can’t see a fucking thing,” I grumble, frustrated as I fumble along the wall for a light switch.

“Shut the door and I’ll turn on the lights,” he responds from somewhere in the room. And as soon as I close the door, a bright lamp floods the space, momentarily blinding me as my eyes adjust to the sudden change.

I blink rapidly, trying to clear my vision, but the image before me takes my breath away. My heart drops when I see him. His laptop slips from my numb fingers and lands at my feet with a crunch.

Malachi’s lean body is sprawled out on his twin XL bed, completely naked. A full hard on stands proudly between his legs, his strong, veiny hand moving swiftly up and down its silky length. I gulp as I watch the muscles in his stomach flex as he pumps harder, lost in his own pleasure. Beads of sweat dot his brow and upper chest, glistening under the soft glow of the lamp.

When I finally meet his eyes, they’re swirling with a darkness that sends shivers down my spine. My legs clamp together as I watch, open-mouthed, him stroke himself.

He pats the edge of the bed, and I stumble forward. “Come sit,” he rasps so low and deep, I barely hear him. “Help me take care of this, baby sis.”