Stepbrother With Benefits 1 Page 2

  He's the boy your mother warned you about, except my mother never warned me about this. We had "the talk" before she and my stepfather finally married and moved in together, bringing me with her, but it was basically that I'd have a brother now, and she knew it would take some adjusting, but she thought it'd be good for all of us.

  Nothing good comes from Ethan, trust me. He's a jerk, a womanizer, a misogynistic prick, he's...

  He's standing on the pool deck right now, covered in water, the slick shine of wet sunlight shimmering across his body. I stop and stare, mouth dropped open, still shouldering my packed bag from the trip back here.

  He must have just gotten out of the pool, because water is dripping from his board shorts, pooling at his feet. He's hot. I mean, it's hot out. That's what I meant. Please don't put words in my mouth.

  This is different, though. Yes, I know my stepbrother is attractive, because how couldn't I? That doesn't make him any less of an arrogant jerk, though. It doesn't mean he's humped and dumped any less woman than he has. It doesn't mean that he's ever had a stable relationship that lasted more than a couple of weeks.

  It's just... this is a weird thought to have, and I know it, but it feels like he's just oozing sex right now. Like it's melting off his body, the water acting as a release for his inner sexual beast. Is that...?

  No. No! I shouldn't be looking at him that way, this is so disturbing and wrong, but his swim trunks are loose and there's a definite bulge in the front. I don't even want to know what he's thinking about. Is there a girl here? Is he going to... while I'm... ick.

  Ethan is an asshole. I don't care if he's hot. Outside, I mean. Swimming. It is hot out. Maybe I should go swimming, too? I think my bathing suit still fits me.

  While I'm lost in Lala-land, I don't even notice Ethan drying off, wrapping a towel around his waist, and coming back inside. I'm standing there, mouth open, staring at where he used to be, and now he's just smirking at me like it's the most amusing thing he's ever seen.

  "Hey, sis," he says. "What's up? Need help with that bag?"

  I snap out of it and look away from him. It's cooler inside from the air conditioning, and his skin prickles with goosebumps, his bare chest rippling with hot, chilled muscle, his nipples peaking and hardening. He's just another boy, I remind myself. There's plenty like him, Ashley. You've seen shirtless boy's before.

  It's different this time, though. He looks different. I haven't seen Ethan since Christmas break, and it feels like he's changed. Not in a good way, I'm sure.

  "Shut up," I tell him. "What are you even doing here?"

  "Uh, summer break?" he says. "Should be obvious. Same reason you're here."

  "I thought you were going on some vacation or something," I say. "Cancun or whatever? Who knows with you."

  "Wow, that hurts," he says, covering his heart with both hands as if I've mortally wounded him. He staggers side to side, acting out this fake death scene. "My own sister, my own flesh and blood, I can't believe this."

  "Obviously you haven't taken any biology classes at that party school of yours," I say. "Just because your father married my mother doesn't make us related, especially not by blood, you idiot."

  "Ah, yeah, right," he says, flashing me his patented bad boy grin.

  I can see why a lot of girls fall for it. Not me, of course. I'm different. I'm only different because I know him better than anyone, probably. It's really not helping right now, though, especially since he's still shirtless. It's doubly not helping with that towel wrapped around his waist. If I didn't just see him standing out there by the pool, I could almost imagine him having just stepped out of the shower, with nothing besides a towel covering his bare body. The remembered image of the slight bulge from before comes back to me, and I have to shake my head in disgust and look away again to stop myself from...

  From what? Daydreaming? About Ethan? Ugh! Disgusting.

  "Anyways," he says. "Yeah, about summer break. I'm just going to chill here. Maybe we can do some bonding or something. Hang out? Who knows. Unless you're going to be busy doing summer reading or whatever the hell you smart girls do. Write some book report for extra credit next year?"

  "Ha ha," I say, faking a laugh. "Right. Funny, Ethan. I don't think we've had to do that since middle school. Not that you'd remember, since you never did it anyways."

  "Oh, you're keeping tabs on me now? Cool. I didn't know I was so important to you."

  I blush and turn away from him. Again. God, how many times is this going to happen? I can't even look him in the face anymore. I try to tell myself it's because he looks obscene right now, that it's because he's just trying to mess with me, what with being shirtless and vaguely flirting. Is... wait, is that what he's doing? Flirting?

  No, definitely not. Not only is he my stepbrother, but I'm not the type of girl someone like Ethan Colton would ever flirt with. He likes the dumb cheerleader type that he can hook up with and then toss aside without much trouble. He's not stupid. Or, he's got some street smarts. Not the good kind, mind you, but the kind that lets him manipulate and use people.

  Not me. I'm not going to fall for his tricks. Never.

  "Where are mom and dad?" I ask. "I need to talk to them."

  "Gonna have to wait, Princess. They're on vacation for the week."

  Since I'm already turned away, and I'm trying to keep myself from stammering and staring at him, I head to the kitchen to get something to drink. Unfortunately Ethan follows me, and now he's closer than ever. I reach into the cabinet to grab a glass and he just reaches up right behind me to get one for himself, too.

  He's standing so close to me that our hands brush as we pull the glasses from the cabinet. He's standing so close that I can feel him behind me. Close. So close that...

  Holy shit! Oh my God. Yes, that's the bulge. From before. Touching me. Pressing lightly against my butt.

  I drop my glass. It starts to fall, heading on a crash course to an imminent, shattering demise. Ethan catches it, though. In the process, he gets even closer to me. Our bodies touch, my back to his front, closer than... closer than I've ever been to someone, almost. Or, not really. I mean, I've had sex before, but that's the closest, and... Ethan is basically as close as that, his erection pressing into... against...

  He puts the glasses on the counter and places his hands on my hips. "Hey, Little Miss Perfect, you alright? You're shaking."

  I need to make something up, so I say the first thing that comes to mind. "Why didn't they tell me they were going on vacation?"

  He's still holding me. Reassuring me? This is weird. But kind of nice. I lean back in his arms and he puts his chin on my shoulder, hands moving towards my stomach. It's weird. Too intimate. It's exactly the sort of thing Ethan would do to rile me up. I can't let him know it bothers me.

  It doesn't help that it doesn't bother me. It doesn't help that no one has ever held me this way. Maybe my mom did when I was younger, but that's entirely different. Jake never did, and none of the other boys I dated would have ever thought about it. Especially not after...

  I don't want to think about it. I can't believe he broke up with me like that.

  "Was a last minute thing," Ethan says close to my ear. "They left a note, told me to tell you. It's just you and me for a week. Hope you can handle it. Don't worry, I'm a good babysitter."

  Babysitter? I laugh, harsh, and slap his hands away from my stomach. He was almost hugging me just then, almost holding me in some intimate, tight embrace, but that's just to screw with me. He doesn't care. He's an asshole.

  "I don't need a babysitter," I tell him. "Especially not you, Ethan. Besides the fact that I'm an adult now, you wouldn't even know where to begin with a baby."

  "Nah, you're wrong, Princess. It's like this. When a man loves a woman, well..." He makes some obscene gesture, touching the index finger of his left hand to his thumb to make an O-shape, then poking his middle and index finger from his left hand through that, simulating sex. Or fingerfucking someone. I wouldn't be
surprised if it's both. Why two fingers? That's just gross. He's gross. My God, he's my brother.

  Stepbrother, I remind myself. I don't know whether this makes it better or worse.

  "Yeah, you do look grown up now, though," he says out of the blue. "Looks nice. I remember you from second grade, with those ugly glasses and those atrocious outfits you used to wear. You've matured well, Princess."

  "Stop calling me that," I say. "I'm not your princess, Ethan. And what do you know about how I looked in second grade?"

  "Hey, I know a lot about how you looked," he says. "You're the only girl who kept wearing skirts even though I made it my mission during recess to go around flipping up as many girl's skirts as I could."

  I slap him. Hard. It's supposed to hurt. It's supposed to be mean and intrusive and punitive, but he just stands there and grins at me with the red print of my palm on his cheek. I go to slap him again, but this time he catches my hand.

  "What's wrong?" he asks, giving me this intense look that I don't know what to do with.

  "What do you mean what's wrong?" I say, shocked. "Can't you tell? You're being a dick!"

  "Whoa, harsh words there, Smarty Pants. I remember when you were too shy to even try to swear. You'd stammer and blush and—"

  "Jake broke up with me," I say suddenly and almost without thinking. No, I did think about this, though. It's what I wanted to talk with my mom about. And maybe Ethan's dad. My stepdad. I just... I don't understand. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do.

  "Wait, what? Seriously?" Ethan says. He sounds a lot more sympathetic than I would have given him credit for. "What happened?"

  It all comes out. All of it. I haven't been able to talk with anyone about this since I left, not even my friends. I don't have a lot of friends at college anyways. I'm too smart. I know that sounds like it should be a good thing, but I got into a really good school with a ton of scholarships and...

  My friends didn't. My old friends, I mean. I never had a lot of them, either. I thought it would be fine, that I could start over, but so far it hasn't worked. I've dated, and I thought everything was going well with Jake, but...

  "He just said he can't do it," I say. "He told me he can't go the entire summer without sex, so we needed to break up, but if I wanted to we can get back together at the beginning of next year."

  "No fucking way," Ethan says. "He actually said that?"

  A crash of tears rushes down my cheeks. I didn't even realize I was crying. I can't say anymore, so I just gulp and nod.

  *** Ethan

  Holy fucking shit. I just want to punch that nerd boyfriend of hers. Yeah, Ashley goes to some preppy school for smart people, whatever. I don't hold it against her. But who does that stupid fuck think he is breaking up with her like that?

  Look, I'm an asshole, but I'm not that much of an asshole. I have standards. I'd never date some girl and then dump her like that. I'd probably never date her to begin with, to be honest. A couple weeks, maybe, then a booty call at best, but I try to make it pretty fucking clear what's going on.

  It's just fucking, you know? I give you a good time, you give me a good time, then we go our separate ways. Easy.

  Jake. What a pussy-ass name, too. I was just teasing her before, but I wrap my arms around her again and hug her. She looks lost. Fuck, her eyes. Ashley has the biggest, brightest brown eyes you've ever seen. Gorgeous, really. They used to be hard to see with her glasses, but when her mom married my dad, he got her LASIK surgery for her sixteenth birthday and ever since then, well...

  Yeah, she's got nice eyes. They're the kind of eyes you want looking up at you when you get a blowjob. A little coy, kind of cute, except she's got your cock in her mouth, so that kind of shoves the coy cuteness out the window, now doesn't it?

  She's crying right now, though. Fucking asshole. Can't even believe he'd do that. I hold her and hug her and we rock back and forth. She's into it, crying against my chest. Maybe I should have put a shirt on when I came inside from the pool, but I didn't expect to stay in here that long. I just wanted to grab something to drink.

  "Hey," I say to her. "He's just a stupid fucking prick, alright? Don't even think about him anymore."

  She looks up at me. Close. Shit. We're really close, aren't we? Chest to chest. Her bottom lip quivers. I kind of want to suck it between my teeth and nibble on it, then kiss the fuck out of her. Shit, this is Ashley, she's my sister.

  Stepsister, I remind myself. But what the hell difference does it make? It's the same thing, same idea. I've known this girl since second grade.

  I remember thinking she used to wear the cutest panties for a dork. I didn't know what to call it at the time, but if I had to put words to it now, I would have thought she was a lady on the streets and a freak in the sheets. Nice, huh? Yeah, even my second grade self was an asshole and a sex fiend. No one's ever complained about the latter. I take care of the girls I'm with.

  I bet Jake's some limp dick fuck who can't even satisfy a girl in bed, and then he wants to screw around and dump her just because of his own issues. Holy fuck, I can't even believe I just thought that.

  Ashley's still looking up at me. Lips parted. Shaking. Crying.

  Don't cry, Princess. Fuck, she just closed her eyes. I could kiss her right now. I kind of want to kiss her right now.

  I lean down. I'll do it. Fuck, this is stupid. Our lips are almost touching. She sees me. She opens her eyes. We're close. Way too close.

  She pushes me away and looks around. "Do you have something I can blow my nose with?" she asks.

  *** Ashley

  Did he almost kiss me? No way. Ugh. Weird?

  Maybe I shouldn't have pushed him away. Wait, what am I saying? Did I want him to kiss me? Uh... no! I'm supposed to be smart, but I'm just acting like one of those bimbo girls Ethan likes to screw around with and then dump.

  Why did I even tell him about what happened with Jake? I bet Ethan hasn't been in a real relationship in his entire life. What does he know? He probably agrees with Jake. It wouldn't surprise me.

  He unwraps the towel from around his waist and hands it to me. "Here," he says.

  I take it, staring at it, then I look at him. He's smiling at me, cocksure and confident. What an asshole.

  "Um...?"

  "You needed something to blow your nose with, right?" he says.

  I laugh. "Ethan, this is a towel."

  "Yeah, so?"

  "I can't—"

  He tries to take the towel to wipe my nose himself, but I pull it away from him. "Stop it," I snap. "Fine, alright?"

  I blow my nose. Maybe this is a bad thing. I feel like I can smell him. Remember that melted sex thing I mentioned before? Yeah, that. It's like I'm rubbing the smell of his sexuality directly onto my nose, his pheromones making me crazy. Is that how that works? Is that why girls go wild over bad boy Ethan Colton? I kind of want to Google it. He'd probably call me a nerd if he knew.

  Google, can bad boy pheromones make a girl go wild with lust?

  "Let's get drunk," Ethan says. "It'll help you get over that stupid prick."

  "Drunk?" I ask, laughing. I still have his towel up close to my face. I pinch it over my nose and blow. It's kind of gross and weird, but Ethan doesn't care. Why would he? He's the one who suggested it in the first place. Ugh, I can't believe I'm doing this.

  "Yeah," he says. "Drunk. Watch a movie. Get some pizza. Whatever you want, your choice."

  "We're eighteen," I remind him.

  "Almost nineteen," he counters.

  "Um, that's not twenty-one. How are we even going to get alcohol?"

  "Mom and Dad are on vacation, remember, Princess?"

  "Stop calling me that!"

  "Yeah, whatever. Anyways, Little Miss Perfect, they're gone, and—"

  He moves next to me, putting his hand on my waist to guide me towards where he wants me to look. I bristle and slap his hand, then I jump away. Ethan just laughs.

  I see it, though. He points. Across the hall to the game room with a b
ar and liquor cabinet. Did I mention Ethan's father is rich? There's a full bar with a huge assortment of alcohol behind it, set into the wall in the game room, which is visible down the hall from the kitchen.

  "There's probably some beer in the fridge, too," he adds, as if we needed more of an excuse to be irresponsible and do stupid things.

  Ethan Colton never needs an excuse for either. It's what he's done since the day he was born.

  I don't do things like this, though. I'm the good girl. I've always been the good girl.

  Yes, and what did that get me? A stupid boyfriend who broke up with me because he couldn't go a couple of months without having sex. Not even just sex with me, but sex with anyone, sex with someone else entirely. He's just like Ethan. Maybe worse. I can't believe I dated someone like that.

  "You'll let me pick the pizza?" I ask. I'm angry. So angry that I'm considering Ethan's offer. Maybe it'll make me feel better.

  "Yeah, whatever you want, Princess. Even that stupid ham and pineapple shit you like. If that's not the girliest pizza ever, I don't know what is."

  "It's not girly," I say. "You're just... you're stupid, Ethan. That's what you are."

  He laughs. "Great insult, Princess. Top of your game. I can see why everyone says you're smart."

  "I hate you," I tell him, straight up. I'm not sure if I do hate him or not. I don't think I do. I actually really appreciate him trying to make me feel better. It's probably the nicest thing he's ever done. Probably the only nice thing he's ever done.

  "Yeah, right back at you," he says, smirking. "But, hey, I'm going back in the pool. Want to join me? Then we can order food."

  My mind wanders. Unfortunately. This is a bad thing. Joining Ethan in the pool? Just the two of us. Splashing, playing, wet, almost nothing between us but the thin cloth of our bathing suits. I have a bikini, even. His board shorts obviously don't hide all that much, going by the bulge I noticed from before. I mean, technically it's covered, but...