Dick: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance

He respects me? I thought, lying back on my bed.

I took a slow, deep breath, my eyes closed in an attempt to calm my heart, but as my adrenaline subsided my still aching clit gave me a reminder of its needs. Despite the near heart attack I’d just suffered, listening to his soothing voice did nothing to abate my lust.

If anything, I was hornier than ever.

Chapter 6

Dick

I hadn’t realized just how much stuff I had until the day I had to fit it all into a suitcase.

Class was only a few days away, and over the last week, I had made more than a few phone calls to set up what had been one of the hardest choices of my life—while at the same time being one of the easiest choices I had ever made. As I stared at the strange emptiness of my room, I began to realize the weight of what leaving for school meant to me, and even what this huge change in my life was going to mean down the road. It was a heavy sensation, the idea that what I was doing couldn’t be undone—or if it could, then even that would have consequences for me along the line. But I knew, deep inside, that I was making the right choice.

Ever since the night of Jessica’s party I had found my thoughts wandering to her more and more, especially in the small hours of the night as I sat agonizing over the days to come. I kept imagining the way she’d looked at me, how her eyes seemed to eat me up from head to toe, hungry for what she knew she couldn’t have. It had been hard not to get an erection as she looked at me, practically licking her lips.

I took a breath and closed my eyes, trying my hardest to banish the awakening serpent that lay between my thighs back to sleep. I was finding it harder than usual to stay in the same room as Jessica ever since that night, wondering if her eyes stole lustful glances at me whenever I wasn’t looking. And now, on the eve of leaving for college, I wondered just how I’d make it through the day without giving in to my desires.

I had to keep reminding myself of who she was, of the consequences of my actions if I dared to even taste that forbidden fruit.

But it’s not really forbidden, a voice would remind me, especially as I watched Jessica leave a room, that tight little skirt conforming so well to her round ass.

I had to tell myself that no matter what I wanted, what I craved, I still needed to resist.

As the smell of breakfast wafted upstairs, I began to feel my stomach gurgle in protest, longing for the taste of bacon and eggs. One thing I’d always miss about home was my dad’s cooking—something that no campus diner could ever replicate.

Deciding that I’d packed enough to see me through at least a few months of college on my own, I zipped up my suitcase and set it down next to the small pile of boxes that I was bringing with me.

With everything packed I headed downstairs to grab myself something to eat, hoping that I’d just miss Jessica before she decided to skitter out from her room. I could only hope that she was planning to avoid me just as much as I was her—the awkwardness of the party was more than enough make things weird for both of us, especially in our own home. It would have been best if Jessica and I could have avoided one another.

But I’m not that lucky, and it was about to get much, much worse.

“Richard?” my dad called as I came down stairs. His tone of voice was not the kind you’re hear from a man totally pleased with his life—though, my dad was never pleased with his life. “Can you come here a second?”

Uh-oh, I thought, freezing on the stairs, contemplating just heading back to my room, blaming the sound of footfalls on our cat, Bandit.

“Richard!” he called again, and I knew there was no escape.

Resigning myself to what was to come I continued down the stairs, my stomach clenching tight as I waited for the yelling to begin. I wasn’t by any means afraid of my father. I was a foot taller than he was and a great deal more muscular to boot, not to mention I knew exactly how to use every bit of that muscle in a fight. No, what always made me anxious about my dad yelling was his penchant to completely overreact.

“Yeah, Dad?” I asked as I stepped into the kitchen. Just as I feared, he had the same look he always got whenever she was angry. His face was red and sweat had started beading on his temple. I’d likened him to a boiler about to burst on more than one occasion.

And to make things even worse, Jessica was sitting at the kitchen table. Her eyes locked onto mine, and I had to try my damnedest to pull my gaze away from her and back to my fuming father.

“What the hell is this?” he asked, shaking a piece of paper that looked like it had been folded up into an envelope. I frowned. Had he gone through my mail?

“You tell me,” I said, “since you’re holding it in your hand. What is it?”

“It’s a letter from Yale,” he began, doing a poor job of keeping an even tone to his voice. “It says that ‘they’re sorry that you’ve decided to choose a different university, and that they wish you luck with you new academic ventures.’ Now, if I remember right, you and me had a deal: you’d go to Yale, get a full ride at one of the best schools in the country, and do better than I ever did. Wasn’t that our deal?”

“I had a better offer,” I said, glancing again toward Jessica. She looked like a deer in the headlights, trying to busy herself with a piece of toast so that she didn’t look like she was listening. Her cheeks were turning red again, and I needed every ounce of control not to pop a stiffy right there in the kitchen.

“What the hell could be better than Yale?” my dad cried, throwing his arms up in frustration. “You could have had everything that I didn’t—you could have gone to the school that I could have only dreamed of when I was your age! How could you throw all of that away for yourself, Richard?”

“Like I said, I had another offer from a different school. One that I like a lot better than the programs at Yale.” To tell the truth, Yale was probably my best option, but some things were way more important.

My father shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose, the letter still clutched tight in his hand. It had always been his dream to go to Yale, but an injury in his senior year of high school had lost him the same scholarship that had paved my way to any college I wanted. It only made sense to choose one of the top Ivy League schools in the country.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this to yourself, son,” he said, disappointment heavy in his voice. “You’re giving up on your dreams!”

“No, Dad,” I sighed. “I’m giving up on yours. Yale is amazing, but they draw some of the best athletes and academics in the country. I’ll always be playing second fiddle to some rich kid. You think that’s what I want?”

My eyes once again wandered over to Jessica, watching as she stole a quick, furtive glance at me from over the rim of her glass of orange juice. It was so hard not to get turned on by her, dressed in her pajama shorts and tight cotton top. Her nipples just barely peeked through the soft fabric. I couldn’t help but imagine what they would feel like against my lips, my tongue swirling around them.

“Now you listen to me,” my father snarled, “you always told me that you dreamed about Yale—about how it was the only school that you ever saw yourself going to! And now you do this to yourself? To me? We had a plan, Richard! You we

re going to bring this family back some glory!”

“I don’t fucking care about your glory, Dad!” I shouted. “Just because you can’t move on past the fact that you never got what you wanted doesn’t mean that I have to do it for you! I’ve picked another college. One where I can be the star instead of the bench warmer. I’m doing this my way and you can go fuck yourself.”

Jessica jumped as I raised my voice, as though I’d knocked her from some deep daydream. I could only imagine what she’d been picturing, though I imagined it had something to do with the stirring member between my legs.

“Don’t you dare speak to me that way, young man! I won’t be disrespected like that in my house!” my father hollered back at me, his eyes practically popping out of his ruddy face. His features were gleaming with a thin sheen of sweat as he slammed his fist down on the counter. “No child of mine—”

“I’m not a child!” I interrupted, taking a step closer. “I’m not some little boy you can boss around anymore! This is my education! My life! And I’ll go to whatever damn college I want, with or without your permission!”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jessica starting to squirm a bit, biting down on her lip as she watched my confrontation with my father.

Is this turning her on? I wondered, tensing as I imagined her panties soaking through beneath her pajama bottoms as she watched me. This was getting to be too much, I didn’t think I’d be able to hold onto my self-control—what little of it I still had. I couldn’t stop thinking about how under all of that nerdy exterior, my stepsister was a grade-A freak.

“You had better know what you’re doing, son,” my father said, snorting as he threw the letter down on the counter. “You had better be sure this is what you want.”

He turned away from me, storming out of the kitchen without so much as a second glance in my direction. My heart was pounding, but not from the shouting match I’d just had with my father. Jessica was still sitting there, her eyes locked onto mine as we stared at one another. I was losing control, feeling the stirrings of a throbbing erection coming on. I needed to get out of there.