Unleashed: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance Part 17

"Then make do."

He hands me a keycard, and then walks off toward the lobby where Chance and his mother are waiting.

d.a.m.n it!

Stuck in a room with Chance, my new surprise stepbrother. Dad's words echo through my mind: A family.

How am I ever going to get through this?

I know him, and I know he'll do everything he can to make this situation more awkward than it already is. He'll torment me.

What's worse... is that I know if I spend that much time with him, we're just going to get closer.

We're going to get closer, and then I'm going to go to university in a different country to him.

I don't want to have to go through that goodbye.

I watch as he gets up from the armchair in the lobby, and starts walking toward me. He clears enormous s.p.a.ce with each step, closes the distance fast.

He towers over everybody else in the hotel lobby. Tall, broad, muscular... he's a total hunk. Everybody's eyes are on him.

He's wearing this c.o.c.ky grin, like he just can't wait to unload whatever snide quip or remark he's got waiting on the tip of his tongue.

"Well," he says, approaching me, standing close. "Looks like it'll just be you and me, alone in a room. Naked."

"Stop it," I whisper at him, looking behind him. "What if my Dad heard that?"

"He didn't."

"I already said that we can't do anything anymore."

"Why not?"

"I don't want Dad to find out. I don't want it to be awkward. I don't want your mother to find out, either. She scares me."

"Is there any other reason?"

I glare at Chance. "I'm leaving to university, soon."

"So you're scared."

"I'm not scared."

"You are," he tells me. He takes the keycard from my hand, and then approaches the concierge.

"Excuse me, could you tell me if this room has twin beds, or a double?"

The lady pecks away at her keyboard for a moment before returning a polite smile.

"Twin beds, sir."

"d.a.m.n," Chance says, grinning at me. He returns his attention to the lady at the desk who is now looking him up and down.

I shoot her a death stare.

"Any chance you could switch us to a room with a double?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Hudson," she says. "We're fully booked."

"d.a.m.n, again." Chance turns to me, flashes his eyes. "Well, maybe we can push our beds together."

"Oh G.o.d," I groan, walking away.

We ride up the elevator in silence, enter our hotel room. It's pretty nice a decidedly four-star-ish a and indeed there are two twins separated by a small coffee table against the wall.

"This is a nightmare," I say, setting down my stuff. I'm in a rotten mood. I know it's because I'm tired from the plane ride, too, but this whole thing really is a nightmare.

I mean, a family vacation? What was Dad thinking...?

I throw the top layers off the bed and onto the floor, knowing that housekeeping likely never bothers to clean it.

I inspect the pillows, then grunt, and open my suitcase, and pull out my own pillow case.

"Really?"

"Didn't you see that show where they s.h.i.+ned a black light in a hotel room?" I ask him.

I take shampoo and conditioner I packed from my suitcase, and then go and inspect the bathroom next, but everything seems clean by the look of it. I run the shower, rinse the large, ovular tub.

"I'm taking a shower," I say. "Dad said we're meeting downstairs in a bit, that we'll all go out for afternoon tea."

"Thrilling," Chance says. His voice is close, and I turn around from rinsing the tub to see him in the bathroom, leaning against the doorway, peering at me.

"What are you looking at?"

"You."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

He steps closer to me, wraps an arm around my waist.

"Not... now," I tell him. "I'm... I'm in a really bad mood."

But he doesn't listen. He pushes me against the doorframe, brings his face close to mine. He stares into my eyes, runs his hands up my sides.

"I said not now," I tell him again. "What if our parents knock?"

"What if they do?"

"They're right next door," I say through gritted teeth.

"Doesn't that make you feel bad?"

"I don't want to feel bad," I tell him.

He begins to kiss my neck, small pecks at first but then I feel the dab of his tongue. "Mm, you smell so good, Ca.s.s. G.o.d, I would f.u.c.k you crazy right now. Feel me."

He grabs my hand, brings it down to his crotch. I can feel him through his jeans. He's hard as an iron bar.

"Chance, come on," I whisper, but I'm tilting my head to the side, letting him kiss me up my neck. I'm losing this battle.

"We can't do this anymore!"

"Come on, Ca.s.s, we both know we're going to do it again sooner or later. We're just so good together."

I hum, and let my eyes flutter closed for a moment, and his hand begins to sidle down my abdomen. A big ball of antic.i.p.ation, of s.e.xual energy is building in my belly. I can feel it acutely. I'm beginning to swell at the juncture of my thighs. G.o.d, he's turning me on so much.

He pushes his hand inside my jeans, and he starts to rub my c.l.i.t. His other hand is sliding up my top, and there he squeezes my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, worms two fingers inside my bra and rolls my nipples.

I feel the moment when my inhibition completely collapses. I shove my hands under his t-s.h.i.+rt, rub them down his contoured body.

"Then make it quick," I breathe at him.

He spins me around, pushes me against the counter in the bathroom. I look at him in the mirror, and his face is a tableau of l.u.s.t.

He yanks down my jeans and underwear in one go, and he drops down behind me, kisses my a.s.s, works inward.

I feel the wet press of his tongue on my folds, and I gasp, gripping onto the edge of the counter. He tongues my entrance, rings me, teases me, tells me how good I smell to him, how good I taste.

But I feel dirty, I haven't showered yet and we were on a plane for eight hours, but that apparently doesn't affect him. He wants me all the time, no matter what.

The heat in my center is growing, and when he slides a finger into me, I moan, feeling hints of a pleasure I know he's going to be good for.

He fingers me, rubs my c.l.i.t through my legs, and I'm just rocking my hips back at him, in time to his fingering, just lost in it all already, undone in an instant.

The room phone starts to ring, and I meet Chance's eyes in the mirror.

"s.h.i.+t, that'll be Dad."

He quickly undoes his belt buckle, opens his trousers and pulls his c.o.c.k out through the flap in his underwear.

I reach behind me, grip onto it, guide him to me, and then he thrusts inside me in one go, throwing me against the cold marble counter.

I clamp my mouth shut, determined not to be loud in case Dad walks by the room in the hallway.

Chance winds my hair up in his hands, pulls my hips out, slaps my legs closed. He tugs at my hair, brings my head back.

"I want to see your face," he tells me, looking at me in the mirror. He begins to pull himself out of me. I let my eyes fall closed. I know he's going to do what he wants, and I know I'm going to let him have me, take me how he pleases, make me feel good.

He starts to f.u.c.k me, and I'm just overwhelmed. His fingers rub my c.l.i.t, and it's just a hard, fast, rough and rushed f.u.c.k.

It doesn't take long until I'm climbing, and then I peak, shudder, come hard around his c.o.c.k. I shake in bliss, feel so, so f.u.c.king good. I grip his hand that is clamped to my waist, but he starts to thrust harder, faster still.

"f.u.c.k," he growls, and he pulls out of me, whirls me around, and jerks off in front of me.

I wrap my lips around his tip, tongue the back of his c.o.c.k, and then I feel his body tense up, hear his groan of pleasure, and his c.o.c.k fires in my mouth as he comes.

I try to swallow it all, but it all comes out of the sides, dribbles down my chin, and he just keeps firing off stream after stream, emptying himself into me for all he's worth.

And then it's over, we're winding down. I let him out, wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. He pulls me up to him, kisses me hard, sends his tongue inside my mouth.

We stay lip locked, not really kissing, just close to each other. I pull away, wipe my chin again. "I hate that you can just do that to me."

He licks his lips, seeks mine out again, but I push him back.

"I need to get cleaned up."

I keep pus.h.i.+ng him backward until he steps out of the bathroom.

"Go down and stall Dad, or he'll think something's up."

"Sure," he says, grinning.

I shut the bathroom door. There's no denying that it felt good, that I feel less wound-up now, but there's a part of me that hates that I just let him do that, let him have me.

Even if I'm starting to realize that letting him have me is what I want.

Chapter Twenty.

I stare at the old man, at the way he thinks he looks casual and carefree, but really, he's just pretending.

Down in the lobby, while we wait for Ca.s.sie and Mom, her father has got his s.h.i.+rt unb.u.t.toned, but I can tell that's a new development. His hair is a little messy, and he keeps raising his hand, as if he's going to smooth it over, recreate a parting, but then stops himself.

He's eyeballing me, too.

"What are you looking at, Kyle?" I ask him.

"You'll call me 'Sir'," he says.