Bride For Order

By: Jenika Snow & Sam Crescent


“You like that I’m this way, admit it,” I said and grinned.

She clenched her teeth, turned her attention away from me, and didn’t respond. I grinned even wider.

Fuck, I’d need to go jerk off now because there was no way could I play football with this monster standing stiff between my legs.



Charlotte



Just looking at him pissed me off. The fact my mother and his dad made me go to his stupid as hell football games annoyed me, but I kept that all to myself. Not only was my stepbrother one of the biggest, cockiest guys at school, he was also not ashamed of the fact that his nickname was ‘Player’. It could have been because he played football, but I knew it was mainly because he was a fucking manwhore, or so his reputation claimed. I’ve never actually seen Derek with another girl, not at school and certainly not by him bringing one to the house.

“Your brother—”

“He’s not my brother,” I correct Greg, my stepfather, Derek’s dad.

Greg looked at me and sighed before facing the field again.

“Charlotte, I wish you’d try to make an effort,” my mom said, but I didn’t respond.

Three years of living under the same roof as that cocky asshole was making an effort.

I turned away from them and watched as Derek tackled some poor sap to the ground. The crowd seemed to gasp as one, and it was a pretty good reaction since Derek had taken the other player to the ground like a tank demolishing a building.

Derek was huge; a beast of a senior in high school, he stood at six-foot-four with muscles stacked upon each other.

Greg had been married to my mom since I was a freshman. For some reason, they wanted us to see each other as siblings, which grossed me the fuck out. Derek was nothing more than an intruder in my life, a womanizer that got off on females because he knew he was hot and they’d fall for him.

What pissed me off more than anything else was the fact Derek was such an asshole. It wasn’t that he treated me like shit, or that he ignored me at school. He didn’t do anything of those things. What angered me was the fact he was after me, and by after me, I mean he wanted to fuck me.

At least, that’s the vibe I got lately.

It wasn’t as if Derek came out and said he wanted to sleep with me. Or maybe it was all in my head because I was the one that wanted him?

Closing my eyes at that thought, I felt this self-disgust fill me. I shouldn’t want anything to do with a guy like Derek. Even if we weren’t technically family, he was out of my league. If we didn’t know each other, he’d never give a girl like me the time of day. I was thick, curvy, and certainly didn’t have a tight body like the cheerleaders that hung around him and his friends.

You want him.

It was true. I wanted him to fuck me, but was too proud, too stubborn to allow myself to stoop to his level of whorishness and just go for it. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself. And every time he came out of the bathroom in nothing but a small as hell towel, his hard body on display, the monster between his thighs pressed against the fabric like a third leg, I hated him even more. Every time he brushed up against me when we passed each other in the hallway or at home, when he stared at me with this intense I want to fuck you look, I hated that my body heated, my pussy got wet, and I thought about really dirty shit.

I kept my attitude, my annoyance at him, in place, but I wondered if he saw through that. My skin still tingled where he’d brushed up against me at the sink today, when he’d said, “You know you’re the only girl for me.” God, if only that were true, I’d be in a lot worse shape than I was in now.

Nope, I’d never resort to giving in and letting my linebacker stepbrother have me.

At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.


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