Stepbrother Weekend (Filthy Dirty Desires)

Her virginity will be mine, she will be mine, and no one will ever be able to take my beautiful obsession away from me.

“Scrabble?” Linda asks.

“I don’t know, can Tanner even spell?” Eleanor says as she shoots me a glare. I grin, noticing that her glares are bordering on flirty now. The fierceness that was in them yesterday is replaced by a playfulness now.

“I only know how to spell dirty words,” I say as my father walks back into the room with a new beer.

“Why am I not surprised?” he says with a chuckle. “He once spray-painted a bunch of them onto the back of his high school.”

My stomach tightens. Of course, he’s going to bring that up.

Eleanor notices the tension between us and quickly speaks up. “Actually, I’m not in the mood for Scrabble. How about Jenga or something short? I’d like to go to bed early tonight.”

She looks at me with a heated desirous look as she says the last part.

“Something short sounds good to me!” I practically shout.

Linda grabs the game and walks over. She sits beside her daughter while my father reluctantly sits beside me.

We set up the tower and play quickly until things start to get interesting. The tower is on shaky ground. It’s gutted to pieces and Eleanor is up.

My breath becomes low and hoarse as I watch her. She’s stunning. I can’t get over her beauty as I watch her inspecting the tower for a block to remove. Her blue eyes are intensely focused, the lines on her brow creased. I can see down the top of her shirt just a little, but that tiny bit of cleavage is enough to make my cock turn to stone.

She rubs her lips as she thinks about it and I let out a low groan. Maybe it wasn’t as low as I thought because all three of them look at me.

“Sorry,” I say, faking a cough. “Indigestion.”

She grins at me knowingly and then gets back to work. My mouth waters as I watch her fingers stroking different blocks, testing the movement of them.

I want those fingers back on my rigid cock. I want her so badly it’s crushing my insides.

I want to get her down to the basement. I want it now.

She carefully, tenderly, removes a block and places it on top of the wobbly tower.

“Yes!” she shouts with her hands in the air and with a big glorious triumphant look on her face. “Your turn, sucker!”

I’m done playing this game. I want to watch her playing with a different kind of wood.

I grab a block and casually knock the tower over with my knuckles on purpose. It tumbles down on the table as Linda squeals and then yells “Jenga!”

Eleanor’s eyes widen as she looks at me, realizing what this means.

“You guys didn’t yell Jenga!” Linda says to Eleanor and my father. She looks betrayed.

“That was fun,” I say as I get up with a stretch. “I’m going to bed now.”

“Now?” Eleanor asks with a nervous quiver in her voice.

“Yeah,” I say firmly. “Now.”

“Well, goodnight, sweetie,” Linda says as she collects the blocks. “Have sweet dreams.”

“Oh, I will,” I whisper under my breath as I head for the stairs. I’m going to have all kinds of sweetness tonight.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Eleanor

* * *

My body is on full alert as I slip into our shared bathroom and quietly close both doors. Just knowing that Tanner is behind that door in some kind of state of undress is jacking my heart rate to dangerous levels.

We kissed. Actually, I kissed him. I touched his erection. His very big, very hard, very long erection.

I look at my hand and can feel my fingertips tingling with the memory of that soft yet firm skin.

“I’ll never do it again,” I whisper, but it’s so obviously a lie. I can’t fool myself over this. Every bit of me wants Tanner Lawson badly. My body is craving him and letting me know it every single second. I just want to climb into his lap again, straddle his body, run my fingers through that sexy dark hair, rub my pussy along his hard length… I want to do it all. I want to act out every filthy thought in my head with my hot stepbrother.

And knowing he’s right there, waiting and willing to do it all is making my mind spin out in a thousand different directions.

What if we get caught? My mother would never speak to me again. Or would she?

Christmas and every other holiday would be awkward as fuck for the rest of my life. Or, maybe it would be amazing… getting caught under the mistletoe… sneaking off to the garage… the possibilities are endless.

I gasp when I see a post-it note on the mirror. A quick tremble flows through me when I see a man’s handwriting scribbled on it. Even his handwriting is sexy.