Stepbrother With Benefits 5 Read online

  Stepbrother With Benefits 5

  Mia Clark

  Published by Cherrylily, 2015.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  STEPBROTHER WITH BENEFITS 5

  First edition. April 22, 2015.

  Copyright © 2015 Mia Clark.

  Written by Mia Clark.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Foreword

  Stepbrother With Benefits 5

  A Note from Mia

  About the Author

  Foreword

  Make sure you don't miss any of my new releases by signing up for my VIP readers list!

  Cherrylily.com/Mia

  You can also find me on Facebook for more sneak peeks and updates here:

  Facebook.com/MiaClarkWrites

  ~*~

  You can find all of the books in my Stepbrother With Benefits series on Amazon

  Stepbrother With Benefits series

  Stepbrother With Benefits 5

  *** Ethan

  Yeah, yeah, I know what you're thinking. Ethan, why are you such an asshole? Don't be such a prick, dude. Ashley just wants to hang out with you. She's your stepsister so you can be friends with her, right?

  Yeah, well, listen up. Do you ask a cat why it's a cat? Do you go around asking the cat why it chases mice or red laser dots? Hey, cat, why the fuck did you just knock that piece of paper off the table? Stupid cat.

  That's just what cats do. They don't give a fuck what you think, and asking a cat to stop doing the things that every cat in the entire world does is not only stupid, it's useless as fuck. The cat's just going to keep doing it, so what's the point.

  I'm an asshole and a prick and a cocky, arrogant bastard, so I don't know why you want me to change all of a sudden. I've been like this for awhile now. Ashley knew what I was before she tried to get involved with me, and she should know what I am now that we're back to the basics. It is what it is. I can't change the world.

  I just fucking... I don't want to deal with this shit right now. I need to get away. I need to get my mind off of everything. I can't be around her right now. I get in the car and I drive off and leave her there. At home.

  Our home. I have to go back sometime, don't I? Well, fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

  Maybe not. Maybe I can get a hotel room or something. Just chill there. Oh yeah? And how long should I plan on doing that? The entire summer, I guess. She's not going anywhere. If I don't want to see her again, I'd have to take some serious drastic action.

  Vacation maybe? I'm sure I could find someone to hang out with. Go chill somewhere nice. Cancun or Jamaica or whatever the fuck. Where's that Hedonism place? Yeah, the one where people just do whatever they want, fuck around, giant orgies, walk around naked, who cares? I've never been, but if anything can get me to stop thinking about Ashley, it's that place.

  Or, why do I have to stop thinking about her? Vacation? Yeah, well, shit. Let's go! Me and her. Aruba is nice. Mostly old people vacationing there. I've been a few times. That makes it perfect, though. We can do whatever the fuck we want for the entire summer. We could walk around and hold hands, cuddle out in the open, kiss on the beach while the sun sets, and no one would ever have to know she's my stepsister. It wouldn't matter. No one would even think to ask.

  Yeah, well, that's not going to work. Not after the shit I just pulled. Can't even be bothered to study with her, treat her like shit in front of our parents, and then what? I'm going to go back there and say I'm sorry and ask if she'll spend our summer break on some exotic island with me? Kind of suspicious, don't you think?

  Yeah...

  I don't know where I'm going. I have no clue where I'm driving. I get on the highway and speed myself up to a relaxing eighty-five miles per hour. Faster. Ninety. Who cares? Maybe life would be better if I crashed or got a speeding ticket, was pulled over, taken to jail, something.

  Nah. I slow down. Sixty-five is a good speed. Yeah, well, it's the speed limit so it better be a good speed.

  I don't want to get in trouble. I don't want Ashley to worry over me or think it's her fault. It's not her fault, obviously. It's mine. I'm trouble. I've always been trouble. She really needs to stay the fuck away from me.

  That's going to be easier said than done. I don't know if I can stay away from her.

  I need to, though.

  A highway sign marks the first exit to the beach. Holy fuck, how long have I been driving? At least an hour or so. Could have come here with her. Why didn't I think of that before? Who the fuck knows! If I hadn't been such a prick to her at breakfast, I could have asked if she wanted to come to the beach. Sure, we might see someone we know there, but we could still hang out. I could watch her swim in the water in some sexy as fuck bikini.

  I don't want to watch her swim in a sexy as fuck bikini. I want to strip down and get naked and go for a dip in the pool again like we did yesterday. I want to drag her to the hot tub and sit down and pull her into my lap and watch her sink onto my cock, burying it inside her pussy.

  Gold. She is gold. Nah, better. Diamonds? Platinum? Tungsten? I don't know. She might as well be a fucking shooting star. I know what I am. A black hole. I ruin anything that comes close to me.

  Maybe that's not very scientific. Ask Ashley about that shit. I don't know. She's not even in school for physics or science or whatever the fuck, but I bet she knows something about it anyways.

  I take the exit to the beach and head towards the boardwalk. Yeah, I've done this before. Usually with friends. This isn't my first rodeo. I know how shit works around here. For good measure, I pull off my shirt at the next red light and toss it in the back. Windows down, music up, driving slow just like everyone else.

  This is good. This is a good place for me. There's a lot of people here. It's nice out, so it makes sense. Girls everywhere, just walking down the side of the street near the beach. Bikinis, sarongs, the whole nine yards. Legs and ass and breasts as far as the eye can see.

  I should have taken the convertible. You know how easy it is to pick up chicks in a convertible at the beach? Easier than reaching down and grabbing a handful of sand. I'll still be fine in this car, but I need a distraction and there's plenty here, so I want to make this easy.

  Yeah, that's it. That's what I'll do. Drive slow. Check some girls out. Find one. Take her for a ride. More than one ride if you know what I mean. We'll see how this goes. The main beach is pretty packed, but there's some great private beaches a few miles away that aren't as crowded.

  This one girl and her friend turn my way. I pretend to ignore them for a second. That's part of the charm. I want them to think they're special. I look over, see them smiling at me. I grin, wink. They giggle. One of them waves, and the other giggles even more at that, pulling her friend's hand down to stop her. I pull up alongside them.

  "Hey," I say. "What's up?"

  This is going to be easy. A threesome is probably exactly what I need. Who needs one girl, my stepsister, when I can have these two fine females right here and now?

  Yeah, I don't know if that's a good trade off, either. I think I'm getting the short end of the stick. Whatever. I'll get over it.

  *** Ashley

  My mom and I go shopping, and it's alright. I like shopping, especially with her, but it's hard. I don't actually need any clothes. I'm not the kind of girl that just buys a ton of clothes whether she needs them or not, but I try to right now. I know we can afford them now, but we weren't always able to.

  "Do you ever feel weird?" I ask her.

  "What do you mean?" she asks.

  "I don't know. I mean... do you ever feel weird about all of this? With Et
han and his dad? And..."

  I hold up a light summer dress that costs more than I ever could have imagined spending on clothes four years ago. After my mom married Ethan's dad everything changed, though. We used to get by, and it wasn't like we were poor or anything, but they're rich, and so I guess now we're rich.

  I just don't feel rich. I feel like I've always felt, but now I can buy hundred dollar dresses without batting an eyelash at the price tag. I still wince whenever I look at the prices, and I'm reluctant to spend that much, but... I still do it, too. It's kind of fun, like a strange guilty pleasure.

  Ethan's father makes more than enough that he probably wouldn't care if I wore brand new clothes every day of the year for two decades. I wouldn't do that, though. I'd feel bad about it. I don't know why.

  "Honey, we need to get used to sharing our lives with them, just like they share their lives with us. I know that you and Ethan have never really gotten along, but you should try, don't you think?"

  "Mom, I'm pretty sure he's hated me since second grade," I say. "That's impressive, too, since I met him in second grade."

  "A lot happened back then," my mom says. "I'm not sure it's entirely his fault. It never sounded like he hated you, either."

  I know. I know what happened back then. I didn't know at the time, but I found out later.

  That's when Ethan's mom died. He was out of school for awhile, but when he came back he was an entirely different person. That's saying something since we were both, what, seven or eight? It seems like such a long time ago now, and it kind of is. I've never talked about that with him. Not exactly.

  I wish I knew how he felt. I wish I could say I knew what he went through. I don't, though. I'll never really know. My father left my mom when I was too young to remember. He died later, too, but I never really knew him. It was like being told you should be sad about something, but you can't really understand how or why. It's complicated. Ethan's dad's been the only man I've ever known as a father, and even then he's only been my stepfather for a few years now. It's not exactly the same.

  "Does he ever say anything about me?" I ask. "Do you know if he does?"

  "Who?" my mom asks.

  "Ethan?"

  "Oh, he mentions you sometimes," she says. "In passing."

  I don't know what that means. What does that mean? "How?" I ask.

  "He asks his father, who then asks me, but it's mostly just about grades. If you're doing well. Things like that. They don't talk a whole lot, but I know he's asked about you at least a couple times."

  Oh. I'm not sure if she's telling me the truth. It doesn't seem right for some reason, like she's glossing over something or trying to hide something. It feels like the sort of thing someone says when they want you to think that someone cares about your well-being when they actually don't.

  It's like when I used to ask my mom about my dad. My real dad. And she would say that he definitely loves me, but he just couldn't handle some things. How could she know he loves me, then? It's just something someone says. For all I know, he did love me, or he could hate me, too. I don't actually know, and I guess it doesn't even matter, either.

  It's just kind of something I want to know sometimes.

  How does Ethan feel about me? Does he like me, or does he hate me? Does he... love me?

  No, probably not. I know this, and I know that a lot of girls wish he would fall in love with them, but it's never happened, and I don't know if it will ever happen. That's just the kind of person Ethan is. I can't change him.

  I try on some dresses at my mom's urging. They're cute. We make a pile of clothes we're going to get. She mentions Jake, and asks me if I'm alright. I completely forgot about Jake. I...

  "I think I'm fine," I say. "I don't want to talk about him."

  "That's alright, honey," my mom says. "If you ever want to talk, I'm here for you, though. You know that, right?"

  "Yeah, I know," I say. And then, mumbling, I add, "Um... since we're buying new clothes, do you think I could get some underwear, too?"

  "Ooh, yes!" she says. "That's the best way to get over a break up, too. Buy something extra sexy for the next boy. That's what I always used to do."

  "Mom!" I say, laughing.

  She grins at me. "Ashley, it's about time you learned all there is to know about men. They're very simple. A cute pair of panties will get them every time. It's a fact."

  "I'm not just going to go around showing guys my panties!" I say. "I have a little bit of self respect, you know?"

  "I know," she says. "You have a lot of self respect, Ashley. And that's fine. But when it comes down to it, when you're ready to start a relationship with someone, a cute pair of panties always helps."

  I roll my eyes at her. "Maybe," I say.

  I wonder if Ethan likes cute panties? Well, obviously he would, right? It's not like I'm just going to randomly show him mine, but if he accidentally sees them...

  No. It's over, Ashley. I have to remind myself of that. We had a nice time together. It was a really nice time, too. Now it's over, though. Done. Forever.

  There's nothing either of us can do about that. It's just the way life is.

  Life... it sucks sometimes! It really does.

  *** Ethan

  I'm home. It's almost night time. The sun'll be setting soon. I pull into the garage and park the car, then turn it off and sit there.

  Yeah, I have to go back inside, don't I? Fuck.

  She's home. All the cars are here. Where else would she be? Maybe she took a walk? Maybe she's upstairs in her room, or in the living room watching TV, and I can sneak back in, go to my room, shut the door, and stay there.

  Except for dinner. I can probably get out of one dinner, but then there's breakfast tomorrow. Lunch. Another dinner. There's an entire fucking summer's worth of meals and I can't skip every single one. I can't stay in my room for two months, and I can't stay out of the house for two months, either.

  Basically, I'm fucked. I'm going to see Ashley one way or another, whether I want to or not, and I'm pretty much completely fucked.

  Yeah, well, what can you do? I have no fucking clue. Let me know if you figure it out.

  I get out of the car and head inside. My dad's hovering by the door. That's what he does when he's waiting for me to come back. He has something to say to me. I don't want to play this game, but I guess I have to. I don't even try to avoid him and get right to it.

  "Hey," I say. "What's up?"

  "You alright?" he asks. "I tried calling your cellphone."

  I reach for my pocket to check, and... "Shit, I forgot it upstairs. Sorry."

  "Wow," he says, grinning. "You forgot your phone? I didn't think anyone could live without their phones nowadays."

  I grin, too, because it's kind of true. "Yeah. I had a lot on my mind. I guess I didn't notice."

  "I'm sorry about earlier," my dad says. "It's been a few years, but I know you're still getting used to all of this. I am, too."

  "It's cool," I say.

  "I was thinking," he says, "if you're up for it, why don't we go camping soon. I can't this week, but how about next week? We can head out for a week or two. Three? Play it by ear. Like we used to, you know?"

  "I'm not sure Ashley and her mom are the camping types," I say. "It's a cool idea otherwise, though."

  "I meant just us," my dad says, smiling. "You and me. They can handle things here, right? We could have fun out there on our own. Be real wilderness men."

  "You're just going to bring your laptop and an inflatable mattress, aren't you?" I ask, chuckling. "Not sure if that counts as being wilderness men, Dad."

  "Nah," he says. "We can do it the real way. Just us, hiking in the woods. Up a mountain? Whatever you want. We don't even have to stay at a regular campground. We can take a journey through the woods and see how it goes."

  It sounds fun. It sounds like something we would have done years ago. Years and years ago, before he put all of himself into his work. I know why he did it, but it's still hard to f
orgive him sometimes.

  I'm also not sure it's something I want to do now, either. For some fucked up reason, I kind of think it'd be fun to bring Ashley and her mom camping with us. I get it. I get that this is stupid as fuck, especially considering the circumstances, but whatever. I don't care.

  "I don't know," I tell him. "It sounds fun, but..." Yeah, how the fuck am I supposed to explain this to him? "I think it'd be cool to ask Ashley and her mom to come, too. I know you thought it'd be nice to go with just us, but maybe I should try to get along with them more."

  Yeah, maybe I should try to stop fantasizing about burying my cock in my stepsister's pussy, too. Not sure that's ever going to happen. Not sure if I can ever just...

  Just be friends with her? Fuck. Life is difficult. It really fucking sucks sometimes.

  My dad lifts his brow, curious and confused. Yeah, I get it. He has a right to be.

  "I think I was a dick earlier," I tell him. "I still don't want to study with her, but maybe we can hang out. I know you want me to do good in school, but I'm not her, you know? I don't know how to fucking... get good grades. I don't even understand how she does it."

  My dad shrugs. "You could start by swearing less," he says with a grin.

  "Yeah, shit. Sorry," I say. I don't realize until afterwards that I just swore again.

  My dad laughs. "Ethan, don't ever feel like you have to be like Ashley. She's your sister now, but I hope you don't think that means you have to compete with her for anything. You're both different people, and unfortunately sometimes that means your personalities are going to clash. It also means that sometimes you can show each other something that the other would never have experienced otherwise. There's a good side and a bad side to everything."

  I don't know what the good side to this is. I can see exactly what the bad side is, though.

  That's me. I'm the bad boy. She's the good girl. My dad's right about that, at least.

  What do bad boys do? They fuck everything up. They get into trouble. They do things they know they're not supposed to do...