Richard

“It very well is not,” she shrieked over the receiver. I jerked the phone away from my ear. “Do you know what that man did to me?”

My eyes widened. Oh, God…

“I—I have no idea, Patricia. Tell me, very calmly—”

“I won’t be calm about this!” she cried, her anger and her tone rising the more she spoke. “That bastard dumped me out of the damn limo on my doorstep! And right after I offered to nosh him off! You set me up with a right ungrateful prick, you did!”

I could feel heat blooming in my cheeks at the very thought of the two of them in the back of the limo, her lips wrapped around Tristan’s considerable member. I swallowed, trying to push the image out form the forefront of my mind as I focused on the present. Why in the world would he do something so stupid?

“I’m so sorry, Patricia,” I said, trying to compose myself the best I could, trying to push through the haze that the wine had thrown over my mind. “If there’s anything that I can do—”

“Just make sure the next bloke you throw at me appreciates when a woman gives his bell end a little attention, yeah?”

“I… of course. I’ll make sure to keep that in mind when I find you a new match.”

“Be damn sure you do,” she said. “And ‘ta very much for the shite evening.”

The phone beeped to indicate that the call was over, though it was more than a full minute before I took the phone away from my ear. I began to question the very fabric of existence as I wrapped my head around the fact that Tristan, my absolute sex-fiend of a stepbrother, had refused to allow a woman to go down on him. Something didn’t seem right, there was no way that he’d ever have passed up that kind of an opportunity to be serviced by a gorgeous woman he’d likely just spent the whole night flirting with over oysters and champagne.

I needed answers.

I furiously pressed my thumbs against the screen of my phone, tapping in my brother’s number before practically smashing the call button as hard as I could. I was enraged, utterly boiling that somehow Tristan had managed to cock up a perfectly simple first date. So what if he had his knob handled for a moment? Wasn’t that part of what he was looking for in a damn wife?

The phone began to ring as I sat up, unsure of what to do with myself as I waited for that bastard to answer. He must have known by now that Patricia had called me, had told me how he’d somehow screwed his chances with her. I was so angry that I could almost see the steam wafting from my ears. He only had one job, and that was to enjoy a beautiful woman’s company so that maybe they could stand one another for the rest of their bloody lives!

“Hello?” came Tristan’s lazy voice from over the phone. How could he sound so calm after what he’d just done?

“You stupid twat,” I snarled. “How in the world could you screw this up so damn quickly? She was a perfect match for you!”

“You’re mad at me,” he said, matter-of-factly. I wanted to scream over at him, I wanted to yell at the top of my lungs what a stupid mistake he’d made by messing up one of the simplest parts of my job.

“You’re damn right I am!” I said, standing up from the couch quickly as I began to pace around my living room. I felt like if I didn’t do something to burn off some energy I might explode. “She’s furious, Tristan! I thought you loved doing kinky shit with women in the backs of limos! At least that’s what the tabloids all said!”

“It just didn’t feel right, you know?” he said, and I could almost picture him giving me that non-committal shrug. I wanted to strangle him.

“It didn’t feel right? Since when the hell has that ever mattered to you?” I raged, throwing my free hand in the air in exasperation. “You’ve never been shy about who the hell played with your dick before now, so why start?”

“That’s not really fair, I think,” he said. “Don’t I get a say in who plays with my cock?”

“Not today, you don’t,” I yelled back. “You told me you wanted to find someone who was exciting and flirtatious, and instead of going for the perfect woman I set you up with, you drop her off on her damn doorstep?”

“That’s not the whole story, Gwen,” he said, his turn apparently to seem a little annoyed.

“Then do tell me all about what really happened, Tristan, because I’m sure that it will be a story for the ages.”

“I will, once I get to your apartment,” he said before I heard the beep of the line going dead.

I stared out onto my balcony through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, my phone clattering to the floor as those words echoed through my brain. He was coming here? Now?

This was bad, and it would only get worse when he walked through those doors. How was I supposed to control myself around him after I’d spent the last few hours downing a bottle of wine all by myself? I was done for! And God knew that he’d be just as horny after Patricia tried to get him off in the car—if unsuccessfully. I knew that this was a recipe for disaster, and the more I tried to push my lustful thoughts from my mind, the more effort I used the more of them came.

I pictured the way he’d look walking through the door, his cock still somewhat hard from Patricia’s eager attempt at fellatio. I pictured how he’d feel bending me over and hiking up my dress before he slid himself slowly into my drenched quim. I let out a gasp as I tried my hardest to quell my torrential desire, knowing full well that any effort I made now would all be undone by the time that my stepbrother arrived. I had to find a way to sober myself up before he walked through the door.

I ran—well, stumbled—to my kitchen, drinking down a glass of water as quickly as I could, hoping to at least begin the process of sobering myself up before my stepbrother arrived. My heart was pounding and I could feel the heat between my legs as it refused to abate. All I could think of was how much I wanted him, my own emotions betraying me as I half-panicked and half eagerly anticipated Tristan’s arrival.

This is going to be a disaster! I thought, downing another glass as I made my way to my bathroom to start running a cold shower to pull me out of my drunken haze. All that I could imagine as I thought of Tristan was how incredible he must have looked tonight for Patricia to so easily want to go down on his dick.

My breath caught as I stepped into the cold shower, letting out a loud gasp as I felt the exhilaration of the freezing chill wash over me like a floor. For a few moments I was finally free of the thoughts of my stepbrother’s member dancing through my mind as it slid into my imagined cunt. I felt like a slut, practically chomping at the bit at the

idea of his dick pulsating inside of me.

After a few minutes beneath the chilly waters I stepped out, running to my bedroom for a hopefully appropriate outfit that would allow easy access to my more intimate areas. I didn’t want this to be easy for either of us. This couldn’t end the way that I was picturing. I refused to give in to the base desires that flooded my mind. I didn’t need the scandal any more than my family did.

Imagine the headlines: Matchmaker Beds Playboy Stepbrother.

It was not something I aimed to let slander my good name.

Chapter 8

I hardly had the chance to knock once before Gwendolyn grabbed me by the front of my shirt and pulled me inside with strength I’d never expected from her. She looked like she’s only just stepped out of the shower moments before, her hair wrapped up in a loose towel fashioned into a turban. How she’d managed to shower in the short time since I’d called boggled my mind, though the distinct scent of alcohol on her breath made me wonder as to why she’d felt the need for a shower so necessary.