cole

It started the day I almost saw her naked.

Of course, it really started way before that, with a complicated history and dark secrets that spun together to create a tangled web of attraction that both of us were helpless to resist. We were drawn to each other because of that history, because of our shared past.

She was my soulmate, in every sense of the word. It wasn’t just sexual, even though the sex was the best I’d ever had. It was beyond that, a love that transcended everything, that took over my soul and consumed me in ways I’d never imagined.

 

The bachelor party

My friend Duke was getting married, and we were at a strip club in Jersey celebrating one of his last nights of freedom. It wasn’t the kind of place I usually visited – I tended to prefer clubs in the city, upscale places where you didn’t have to worry about some asshole getting drunk and starting a fistfight or getting too grabby with the women. At strip clubs in the city, the women were model-gorgeous and everything was classy and tasteful. The distasteful stuff-namely the fucking for money – took place in private VIP suites that were done up to look like a hotel room at The Plaza.

This place – the place in Jersey that Duke had picked – was rowdy and out of control. Everyone in the place was pounding cheap beer, and everywhere you looked guys were copping a feel, even though the club claimed to be ‘look but don’t touch.’

“I want to fuck that one over there,” Duke said, pointing to a young girl with long blonde hair who was sitting on a middle-aged man’s lap. “Her fucking ass is just begging for my dick.”

The lights dimmed then, saving me from a response.

I turned my attention toward the stage as a hot little brunette came waltzing out. She was wearing a tiny white bikini that strained over her round tits, her nipples clearly outlined through the fabric. The bottom was tied together by two tiny strings, her legs long and lean, her stomach flat and tan.

My cock instantly got hard. I usually didn’t get too worked up over strippers – I’d never had a problem getting beautiful women, and strip clubs were just too much of a tease when I could have the real thing anytime I wanted – but this girl’s body was insane. I imagined my hands caressing her as I untied the top of her bikini, how nice those big titties would feel in my hands.

The music started and the spotlight shone on the stage.

The girl swung around the pole, her dark curls streaming behind her.

And I choked on my beer.

I knew her.

It was my stepsister, Avery.

I hadn’t seen her in five years, when I’d left home at twenty-one and never looked back.

Jesus, she’d grown up. Her body was filled out, her hips curvy, her ass tight and toned.

She smiled at the crowd and Duke whistled.

“Yeah, baby,” he yelled. “Show us that ass.”

Avery obliged, leaning over until her ass was in the air, tight and toned. She was twenty-two now, old enough to be a stripper, I supposed. But what the fuck? I was confused as to why she was working here. Avery had always been smart, making straight As in school despite our parents’ total lack of interest in anything academic.

I should have left. I should have turned around and walked out of the strip club, or at least waited in the bathroom until she was done her set.

But I didn’t. Instead I watched as water came shooting down from the ceiling, drenching Avery in her tiny little white bikini until her nipples became visible, dark and hard, through the fabric. Her bottoms clung to her pussy, making my dick even harder as I thought about how tight it would feel around me, how hard my dick would get if I shoved it in her cute little hole.

Stop, I told myself. That’s your stepsister. She’s off limits.

But nothing was off limits.

I had money, good looks, and power.

And those things made it easy to get whatever you wanted.

I should have walked away.

But I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

I wanted her.

And I always got what I wanted.

 

Avery

 Working at a strip club was definitely not plan A, but desperation could force you to do things you thought you’d never even consider. So when my friend Courtney told me I could take my top off, shake my ass a little on stage, and then make five hundred bucks by flirting with the guys who’d watched, I went for it.

I needed the money.

I needed to get out of my house. For good. And my job at CVS wasn’t enough for me to support myself and my mom, who I planned to somehow convince to come with me.

Last night last my stepfather Gordon had snuck into my room at two in the morning while I was sleeping. I’d cracked my eyes and watched as he crept over to my computer, where he pulled up a porn video and then began jerking off. I’d pretended to be asleep while the girl on the screen moaned in pleasure and Gordon jerked his cock harder and harder until he came, splashing cum on the wall by my bed. The stain was there this morning, a reminder that it wasn’t just a bad dream, or even a reality I could just forget about.

And that’s when I made the decision to do whatever it took to get the hell out of there.

And now here I was.

I’d never thought of myself as sexy, had never been that comfortable in my body. In gym class, when the rest of the girls were running around half-naked, I’d huddle in the corner, turning away to change my clothes. When I went to the beach, I’d stay covered up, wearing one-pieces and making sure I always had a cover-up close by. I’d learned pretty quickly that wearing a tank top or a skirt in my house – even a tasteful one on a hot summer’s day – was a way to get unwanted attention from my stepfather.

So I wasn’t used to being in clothes like this.

And now, here I was, standing on the stage in a white bikini and nothing else.

“Show us that ass!” someone yelled. I wanted desperately to do a good job and make a lot of tips, so I smiled at the crowd and bent over, obliging.

When I stood back up, water came pouring down from the ceiling, cold and shocking. No one had told me there was going to be water. It rushed over me in a freezing sheet, making me gasp. Goosebumps broke out on my arms and my nipples hardened under the sheer material of my bikini, useless now that it was drenched. You could see everything.

The men in the crowd hooted and hollered at me.

“Yeah, slut!” one of them yelled. “Show us that fat pussy!”

Suddenly, I couldn’t breath. Everything in my peripheral vision started to blur and my heart was pounding out of my chest. My head got woozy, and even though I’d just been drenched with freezing cold water, my skin felt like it was on fire.

I was going to throw up.

I needed to get off the stage.

I turned around and started to make my way backstage, but I was wearing high heels and the floor was slick from all the water.

I slipped and fell on my ass, smashing my collarbone into the floor. Pain radiated up my spine, and I tried to stand up, but the floor was too slick, and I went down again. I tried to brace myself with my wrist, but I landed at a weird angle and heard a sickening crack as I fell. The most intense pain I’d ever felt shot through my wrist, sharp and stabbing.

The crowd was laughing at me, the music still pounding in my ears.

My eyes filled with tears, and then suddenly, out of nowhere, he was there.

Cole.

My stepbrother.

The shock of seeing him there was enough to dull the pain for a moment.

“Hey,” he said.

“Cole,” I breathed. “What are you doing here?”

“Saving you,” he replied. And then in one fluid movement, he picked me up off the stage. I wrapped my arm around his neck. His body was strong and muscular, his arms safe and warm.

He led me through the jeering crowd and outside into the parking lot where he set me down on the pavement next to his car. My chest brushed against his. Heat warmed my cheeks as I became aware of the fact that I was wearing a tiny bikini. A tiny wet bikini that you could see right through. Cole’s eyes dropped down to my chest, and I watched as his gaze slid over my breasts. I tried to cross my arms over myself, but my wrist was screaming in pain.

Cole grabbed the handle of his car, a silver Lincoln Navigator that looked more expensive than my house.

“Get in,” he said, opening the door.

The car was elevated off the ground a little, just enough that I couldn’t get in without bracing myself on something. I tried, but my wrist hurt too much.

“I don’t think I can,” I said.

“Here.” Cole wrapped his arms around me, his grip strong and tight on my waist. He picked me up and set me down in the seat, then went around to the driver’s side. He got inside and turned the heat on full blast.

“Let me see your wrist,” he instructed.

I held it up and he reached out and took my arm gently, running his finger over my skin. His touch was soft, tender, and it felt weirdly intimate, having him touch me like that. My wrist was already getting swollen, turning purple and bruised. “Do you think it’s broken?” I asked him.

“I’m not sure, but it could be.” He reached into the backseat and grabbed a sweatshirt. “Here,” he said. “Lean forward.” I did as I was told and he helped me put the sweatshirt on, pulling it gently over one arm and then the other. He zipped it up for me, covering my body. As he zipped, the top of his knuckle grazed against my breast. A blast of lust shot through my body, intense and shocking. 

“There,” Cole said.

He looked at me, and in that moment, I remembered why I hated him.

He was devastatingly gorgeous. Dark hair. Ripped body. Piercing blue eyes that contrasted perfectly with his dark complexion. He had a smoldering gaze that made everyone around him fall in love with him.

My friends used to joke that if Cole looked at you, you’d have your panties off by the end of the night. And it was true. He’d slept with most of my friends, and any other hot girl he happened to want.

It had been infuriating when we were younger, watching him sneak girls into his room at night, hearing them moaning and screaming his name as he got them off. He’d had things handed to him because he was beautiful and smart and good at sports. No one at school had cared about the fact that he was poor or that he lived in Culver City, which everyone knew was full of drugs and prostitution. They didn’t care that he couldn’t afford the right clothes – most of the time whatever girl he was dating would buy them for him, anyway. Hell, even girls he wasn’t dating would buy him things.

I hated him because he was everything I wasn’t. He was outgoing, I was shy. He was smart, I made mediocre grades. He was special, I wasn’t. But the biggest reason I hated him was because he left us. He left me.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I blurted.

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” he said, shifting his car into reverse and starting to pull out of the parking spot. It was typical Cole, taking over and getting things done without even asking anyone else what they wanted.

“No.” I went to open the door, but he slammed the car into park and then reached over and pulled my car door shut. “I’m not going to the hospital,” I said.

“You need to get your wrist looked at.”

“I don’t have insurance.”

“So?”

“So some of us don’t have millions of dollars, Cole. Some of us can’t afford to go to the hospital.”

“I’ll take care of the money.” The car was in reverse again, and as much as I wanted to get away from him, there was nothing I could do. My wrist was throbbing. Even if I could manage to get the door open, there was no way I was going to be able to get myself out.

“You didn’t answer my question,” I said. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked. He looked over at me and shook his head. “You shouldn’t be in a place like that, Avery.”

“Oh, now you care about what happens to me? Fuck off, Cole, I’ve been doing fine without your advice for years, I’m pretty sure I have it under control.”

“Obviously not, since you’re stripping.” He looked at me. “Does your mom know you’re doing that?”

“What do you think?” I countered. My mother didn’t care what I did or where I went. She didn’t ask questions, she didn’t get involved. She lived her life in a constant haze of denial, cigarettes, and booze.

“You’re still living at home?” Cole asked.

“Yes, Cole,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I’m still living at home.”

His hands tightened on the steering wheel, and I knew he was thinking about his dad, my stepfather, Gordon. The way he would look at me, what he did when he would sneak into my room at night.

“Motherfucker,” Cole mumbled under his breath.

But it didn’t mean anything. If there was anything I’d learned, it was that words were just words. People made promises all the time – social workers promising they were going to get me out of my horrible situation, my ex-boyfriend Jacob promising he would protect me... none of it mattered. Words were nothing. It was action that mattered, and when it came down to it, no one had kept their promises to me.

Cole had never promised me anything. But he’d left me. Five years ago, he’d up and moved out, packing up his things in the middle of the night and taking the bus to New York City with three of his friends. They’d created a social media messaging app, a dating app that was a cross between Facebook and Match.com. It had taken off, and now he was rich.

I had tried to avoid hearing anything about him, but it was impossible. His picture was splashed all over the internet, his face all over the news. The media loved him because he was young and gorgeous.

He was well-spoken and charming, giving perfect sound bites and making the women journalists swoon. I saw him once on an interview on CNBC. We didn’t have cable, but I saw it at Jacob’s house one morning when I couldn’t sleep and was flipping through the channels. I had sat there, watching Cole on the screen saying all the right things in his beautiful designer suit. I wanted to scream at the journalist, tell her she had it wrong, that Cole wasn’t this brilliant great guy who came from nothing and made something for himself.

There was more to him than that

He was a complete bastard.

He abandoned me.

And I would hate him forever because of it.



***



Cole insisted on coming into the exam room with me, and I was too weak to protest. The nurse was a bubbly little blonde with big boobs and a gap between hr front teeth. She was practically drooling over Cole. I couldn’t blame her.

Now that I’d calmed down a little, I was able to get my first real good look at him. He was wearing a pair of expensive-looking dark jeans that hung perfectly on his hips, a white t-shirt that looked equally expensive and hugged his broad chest and cut arms, and a black leather jacket with a soft-looking fleece lining. His hair was gelled but slightly messy, and his cheeks had just a trace of stubble. He looked like he was ready for a photo shoot.

“The doctor will be right with you,” the nurse said. “If you could just take your sweatshirt off so he can get a look at your wrist, that would be great.”

As soon as she left, I rolled my eyes. “You might have to fuck her, Cole,” I said. “Put her out of her misery.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

It was a lie. He knew perfectly well what I was talking about. “You can leave now,” I said. “Won’t your friends be worried about you?”

“I texted them.”

“And said what?”

“That I had a family emergency.”

I almost laughed out loud. Our whole life was a family emergency, a constant state of crisis that Cole had walked away from. And now he was worried about my stupid wrist, which honestly was the least of my problems.

“I’ll help you get this off.” He reached up and unzipped my sweatshirt. He was close enough now that I could see the scar on his jaw, hidden beneath his stubble.

My heart raced as I remembered how he got it. I reached out and touched it before I could stop myself. He grabbed my hand, pulled it away from his face.

“Don’t,” he growled.

It was the only thing that reminded me that he was part of our family, that he’d been there with me, that he’d lived through it. Now that he had fancy clothes and a fancy car and a fancy job he seemed so far away, almost like he’d never existed.

He kept my hand in his, even though he’d told me not to touch him. Electricity crackled between us. He was just so goddamn beautiful. The kind of beautiful that would break your heart fifty million different ways. And he’d done it to me, over and over and over again.

The doctor came in then, and Cole dropped my hand.

“Avery,” he said, holding his hand out. “I’m Doctor Phillippi. I heard you may have broken your wrist?”

“Yes,” I said, showing him. “I fell while I was, um… dancing.”

The doctor looked at it. “It looks like maybe it’s just a sprain. But we’ll have to take some x-rays to make sure.”

“Okay,” I said. “Um, is it…how much does it cost?”

“It’s fine,” Cole said. “It doesn’t matter. Do the x-rays.”

The doctor nodded and left.

“I don’t like him,” Cole declared. “I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

“The way he was looking at me?” I repeated, frowning. “He wasn’t looking at me any way.”

“Yeah, he was. He was checking out your tits like he couldn’t wait to cop a feel.”

“Cole, that’s ridiculous. Besides, it’s hard not to notice them. I’m wearing a bikini top.” I hunched down, trying to make my boobs a little less conspicuous. But it was impossible. I was a D cup, and I was wearing a white bikini that was designed to show off as much cleavage as possible.

“Yeah,” Cole said. “I know.” His eyes raked up my body, lingering over my breasts. And not in the way of a brother wanting his sister to cover up because he felt protective, either. It was the way a man looked at a woman’s body when he found her attractive, when he was getting turned on. That’s the way Cole was looking at me.

He was my stepbrother.

I knew it was wrong for him to be looking at me that way.

But I liked it.



***



They took X-rays, deemed my wrist to be badly sprained but not broken, and put me in a splint. They told me to take ibuprofen if I had any pain, and sent me home.

“Thanks,” I said grudgingly when we were back in Cole’s car.

He shrugged, like it didn’t mean anything.

A few minutes later, we were pulling up in front of my house.

Cole turned off the car and went to open his door, but I stopped him. “Are you crazy?” I said. “You can’t come inside. Your dad will freak out.”

“Like I give a shit,” Cole said. He went to open the door, but I reached out and grabbed his arm. “No.” I shook my head. “It’ll be worse if you come in, trust me.”

He hesitated, so I used my good hand to open the door and jump out onto the driveway. Now that I had a splint on my bad wrist, I was able to hold onto the door frame and get myself out.

“Thanks again,” I said shortly. I thought maybe I should say something else, like see you soon, but that wasn’t true. I wasn’t going to see him soon.

I slammed the door and headed toward the house.

When I got inside, everything was quiet.

They must have been sleeping.

My mom and my stepfather, Gordon, were prone to taking long naps during the day. My mom slept mostly out of depression. Gordon was usually passed out from whatever alcohol bender he’d been on that day.

I made my way to the refrigerator.

It was, as usual, pretty bare -- old Chinese food, a carton of milk, half a loaf of bread and some peanut butter. My stomach was rumbling. I hadn’t eaten all day, because I’d been so nervous about taking my clothes off in front of strangers. I found some grapes in the bottom drawer, and I pulled out the bag and popped a couple into my mouth. My wrist was starting to throb, and I leaned down and opened one of the lower cabinets in the kitchen where we kept the medicine, wondering if we had any ibuprofen. I found a bottle, but it was expired. I sighed, trying to decide if a walk to the drugstore was worth getting rid of the pain in my wrist.

“Where have you been?” a voice demanded.

Gordon was standing in the doorway to the kitchen. His years of hard-living should have made him grotesque – he should have had a paunch, or missing teeth, or a pockmarked face. But Gordon was actually considered good-looking. He was only forty-three, with short dark hair and blue eyes. Despite the fact that he was always wasted and never seemed to be able to hold down a job, he worked out obsessively, never missing his daily trip to the gym. And he had the body to prove it.

“I was at work.” I pulled Cole’s sweatshirt tighter around me. It wasn’t a lie. Gordon didn’t need to know exactly where I’d been working. I’d just let him assume that I was working a shift down at CVS. Of course, I’d have to come up with some reason why my paycheck was short this week. Gordon tracked my wages and hours meticulously, making me fork over a percentage of my money to him every week.

“I thought you had the day off.”

I shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant about it. “One of the girls called in sick, so they asked me to cover.”

My hands were shaking, and I turned back to the fridge and opened the door, pretending to look for food even though I knew there was nothing in there.

“Why are you dressed like a little slut?” he asked.

I swallowed. I should have known better than to walk around the house in a bikini. I should have made sure to put some clothes on as soon as I walked in. Cole had put his sweatshirt back on me when we’d gotten into his car, but I was still wearing those damn bikini bottoms.

“I just… I was just trying on some clothes when I got home,” I lied. It was a stupid lie. And out of everything Gordon was, he wasn’t stupid. I knew he would see right through it, and I was right.

“Don’t lie to me, girl,” he said. He reached over and grabbed the zipper on my sweatshirt, pulled it down and reached in and grabbed my breast, squeezing it roughly and twisting my nipple. “You gotta keep these titties covered up. Otherwise you’re gonna get yourself in some trouble. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

I shook my head. “No,” I said. I tried to keep my voice even. If I fought him back, if I even showed any kind of resistance or disobedience to what he was saying, it would just be worse.

“You don’t listen to me,” he said. He shook his head at me in disgust. “Can’t expect anything more, though, considering where you came from.” He reached out and grabbed the bag of grapes I was holding, and they went skittering onto the floor. “You dumb bitch,” he said. “You’re going to have to replace those, you know.”

Something inside of me snapped. I looked him right in the eye.

“You’re the one who dropped them,” I said.

Gordon reached out and backhanded me across my cheek.

The pain was excruciating, much worse than it had been with my wrist. I stumbled backwards, my ears ringing, my breath catching in my chest. He came at me, grabbing my breast again, his breath rank against my ear.

I tried to scream, but he put his hand around my throat, squeezing hard. My eyes watered and he grinned at me. “Don’t talk back to me, bitch,” he said. “Or you’ll learn real quick.”

The room began to blur around the edges and my legs began to buckle under me. There was a strong throbbing in my head, my wrist was on fire, and I could tell I was going to lose consciousness.

I struggled against it, fighting against the blackness, knowing that if I went under, if I surrendered to it, I would be at Gordon’s mercy, not able to defend myself from anything he wanted to do to me.

I tried to scream again, but my mouth opened and no sound came out.

And then, suddenly, a shadowy figure appeared over Gordon’s shoulder. The figure reached out and grabbed Gordon, yanking him back by the shoulder, forcing him to loosen his grip on my throat.

I fell to the kitchen floor, gasping for air. My throat was raw and the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. I braced myself on my hands and knees, trying to catch my breath. I could hear a scuffle going on, could hear someone fighting with Gordon.

Cole.

“Don’t you fucking touch her,” he was saying. “Or I will kill you with my bare hands, so help me God.”

“Jesus, Cole, get the fuck out of here,” Gordon said. “Or I’ll have you arrested.”

“Fuck you,” Cole said.

He started to walk toward me, but Gordon stepped in front of him, pushed his finger angrily into Cole’s chest. “Get out of here, boy,” he said. “You might have taken off like a little rich boy bitch, but I’m still your father. I’ll still kick your ass just like I used to.”

“Cole,” I said, finally staggering to my feet. “Cole, please, don’t.”

His eyes met mine, and it was that same familiar look we used to give each other when Gordon would go out drinking and come home looking to start something with one of us. Cole’s eyes burned like a raging inferno, his anger practically visible in the room. He wanted to kick Gordon’s ass, wanted to knock him out onto the kitchen floor. He looked crazed, and it scared me a little.

Who knew what Cole would do? There were times in my darkest moments, when I’d imagine what it would be like if Gordon were dead, if I could just have the opportunity to put a bullet through his head or stab him with a knife. If I could have gotten away with it, I might have killed him.

And Cole, who was big and strong and filled with testosterone, could do some serious damage. If he ever did, his career would be over, he’d be arrested, he’d go to jail. But beyond that, it would end up being worse for me.

Even now, as soon as Cole left, Gordon would take it out on me.

“Come on,” Cole said to me. “We’re leaving.”

“You’re not going anywhere.” Gordon said, stepping in front of me. I went to step around him, but he reached out and pushed me down to the ground. I fell, landing on the same place on my spine as I had when I’d slipped on the stage earlier.

Cole stepped right up to Gordon so that his chest was right against his. “Get. Out. Of. Her. Way,” he said.

His voice was strong, steady. He didn’t sound afraid, or anxious, or worried about what might happen. In fact, he sounded like he was just waiting for Gordon to mess with him, like he’d relish the idea of being able to pound him into the ground.

“Avery,” Cole said, his eyes never leaving Gordon’s. “Go get in my car.”

I stood up on shaky legs, moving past Gordon and out the door. Cole’s car was parked in the driveway.

He came back for you.

It was a thought I hated myself for wanting to believe. I opened the car door and slid into the passenger seat, bracing myself with my good wrist and using the splint on the other for balance.

A few minutes later, Cole came storming out of the house.

“What happened in there?” I asked.

“Don’t worry about it.” He shoved the key into the lock and started the car. “Put on your seatbelt.”

I did as he said.

He pulled out of the driveway, the tires skidding over the pavement as he peeled out of our cul de sac and headed for the highway.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“To my apartment.”

“In the city?”

He nodded, his eyes not leaving the road.

“I don’t… I mean, I don’t have any stuff.”

“We’ll get you new stuff.”

His tone was short, clipped, and I wanted to ask him if he was mad at me, and if so, why. I hadn’t asked him to come back to the house, hadn’t asked him if I could come and stay with him. He was the one who’d decided to come back, to come walking into the house like he’d never left, to get between me and Gordon.

I was thankful to him for stopping whatever was going to happen. But if he was going to be upset about it, and blame me for it happening, then it wasn’t fair.

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye as he drove, his hand gripping the top of the steering wheel loosely. His profile was beautiful, his jaw strong and defined. Looking at him filled me with the need to be close to him, and I hated myself for feeling that way. First, he was my stepbrother. And second, I could never trust him. He’d left me. And even though he was taking me back to his apartment now, eventually he would just leave me again, the way he had before.

Be careful with him, Avery, I told myself. Whatever you do, don’t ever trust him again.



***



His apartment was in the middle of the city, elegant and luxurious. It filled a whole entire floor of a high-rise, with a breath-taking view of the skyline. The moon was high in the sky, shining through the windows and giving the apartment an ethereal glow before Cole turned the lights on.

Cole hung up his coat and then pulled out his cell.

“Kalia,” he said into the phone. “I need clothes. For a girl. All kinds. Anything you would think she would need, for any situation.” He put his hand over the phone and looked at me. “What size are you?”

“Ten.” My cheeks flushed. I knew I wasn’t fat by any means, but I pictured this Kalia girl as small and blonde, the kind of girl who was a size two and judged anyone who wasn’t. I thought about that man in the strip club, the one who’d yelled at me and told me to show him my fat pussy.

Cole repeated the information and then hung up the phone. “That was my assistant,” he said. “She’s going to get you the things you need.”

“Thank you,” I said.

He nodded. He wasn’t looking at me, instead looking down at his phone, scrolling through his emails.

“But I can’t... I mean, I won’t be staying here that long.”

“You’ll stay until I decide it’s safe for you to go home.”

I’d been trying to be nice because he’d come back for me, he’d saved me from whatever horrible thing Gordon had been about to do to me. But he couldn’t just come waltzing in and take over my life. “No,” I said. “I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

I shook my head. “No. I can’t leave my mom.”

He looked at me like I was completely out of my mind. “You’re fucking kidding me, right?”

“No, I’m not kidding you, Cole. I can’t leave her. You know that.”

“Your mom is not a victim, Avery. She chooses to be with my dad, she chooses to stay with him even though she knows all the horrible shit he did to us, all the horrible shit he’s still doing to you.”

“She’s –“

“Don’t start with all the battered woman syndrome bullshit either, Avery. That’s her problem. You can’t live your life based on what your mom’s doing.”

“Sorry I’m not like you, Cole,” I shot back. “Sorry I can’t just take off and leave my whole family and be okay with it. Some of us actually have a conscience.”

“Is that what you think I did?” he demanded, crossing the room over to me so that he was close enough that I could see the scar on his chin. “You think I left because I wanted to?”

“That’s exactly what you did!” I said. “You packed up your shit in the middle of the night and left like some kind of coward.” I remembered the day he left, remembered waking up in the morning, waiting for him to come downstairs. I’d made him brunch – scrambled eggs and bacon, raisin bread with cream cheese on top, just like he liked. When he didn’t show up, I’d gone upstairs to get him out of bed. But his room was empty. All his stuff – his computer, his clothes, everything… was gone.

“Jesus, Avery,” he said, his eyes blazing with emotion, his face finally losing that cocky, controlled look. “I didn’t leave because I wanted to. I left because I had to.”

“Whatever,” I said. I didn’t want to hear his dumb excuses. Not because I didn’t believe them, but because I was afraid I would believe them. And I couldn’t get sucked into his BS again. I would never, ever trust him again, no matter what he said. “Can I take a shower or what?”

“The guest bathroom’s down the hall, second door on the right,” he said. “I’ll get you a t-shirt and sweatpants until Kalia gets here with your stuff.”

He left and returned a moment later with a crisply folded t-shirt and a pair of navy sweatpants.

“Thank you,” I said, accepting them.

But when I got into the bathroom, I was faced with a problem. I wasn’t supposed to get my splint wet. I also was having a little trouble moving my arm up over my head, and I needed to wash my hair.

I returned to the living room.

Cole was sitting one of his huge leather couches, his laptop open on the table in front of him.

He was lazily surfing through the channels on the flat screen TV mounted on the wall, going back and forth between different football games.

“What’s wrong?” he asked when he saw me.

“Nothing, I’m just going to have to skip the shower.”

“Why?”

“It’s too hard with my wrist.”

He turned the TV off and looked at me. “I’ll help you.”

I shook my head. “No,” I said. “That’s okay, I’ll just… I mean, I can wait.”

“Until when? A week from now when your splint comes off?”

I shrugged. “I’ll figure something out.” I didn’t want to tell him that there was no way I was going to be staying here for a week, that I was probably going to go home tomorrow after giving Gordon a little time to cool off, and that once I got back there, my mom could help me shower.

“That’s ridiculous.” Cole stood up and tossed the remote onto the couch. “Come on.”

I followed him into the bathroom, my heart pounding as he reached into the mosaic-tiled shower and turned the water on.

“Just take off your sweatshirt,” he said. “You can shower in your bikini.” He reached up and pulled his shirt off in one fluid motion, and I almost gasped out loud. One, because it was so unexpected. And two, because his body was beautiful. Cole had always been gorgeous, had always had a cut body and flat stomach, but he’d filled out a lot since I’d last seen him.

His shoulders were broad and strong, the muscles so defined they looked like they could cut glass. The planes of his chest were smooth and gorgeous, his ab muscles a chiseled six-pack that disappeared into the perfect V of his hips. A line of hair ran from his belly button and disappeared into his pants.

“You can’t get in wearing those pants,” I said. “You’ll wreck them.”

He shrugged and pulled them off, so that he was in just his boxers.

I blushed and looked away.

“Don’t look so bashful, Avery,” he said, grinning at my discomfort. “You’ve seen me this way millions of times.”

It was true. Growing up in the same house with someone, it was inevitable. Especially when your house was the kind of house where something could be going down at any moment, the kind of house where you might have to wake up in the middle of the night and rush out into the hallway to deal with whatever it was that was happening.

“I’m not embarrassed,” I said, rolling my eyes. But my legs felt wobbly as I climbed into the shower. The hot water hit my shoulders and I put my head under the spray, letting it flow over me, washing away the nightmare that had been the day.

I felt Cole getting in behind me, and his chest pushed against my back as his reached for the shampoo that was on the hanging shelf over the showerhead. His body felt warm, even warmer than the water that was sliding over my skin.

I glanced over my shoulder and watched as he squeezed the shampoo into his hands, working it into a lather before putting it on my hair. His hands moved over me, and I leaned back into him, loving the feel of his skin against mine, his touch as he massaged my scalp, how strong and big he felt behind me.

“Careful,” he said, pulling me back toward him. “Don’t get your wrist wet.”

“I won’t.” My heart was pounding, my pulse racing. I remembered now why I hated him so much – it wasn’t just because he’d left us. It was because I wanted him. I wanted him in a way I knew I could never have him.

That’s crazy, Avery. He’s your stepbrother, and even if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t be interested in someone like you. He’d gorgeous and rich and he could have any woman he wanted.

Cole reached up and grabbed the shower head, pulling it down and guiding it over me, until all the shampoo was rinsed from my hair. He replaced the showerhead and grabbed a bottle of strawberry body wash off the shelf.

“Body wash, Cole?” I teased. “Really?”

“It’s for guests,” he said.

“Oh.” Guests. Women. Women who spent the night with him. I wondered if he’d been in the shower with any of them, imagined him pushing one of them up against the wall, the water sliding off their bodies as he slammed his cock into her.

I took a step away from him.

“I can’t…. I mean, I can do it.” I turned around and held my hand out for the body wash.

There was a drop of water on his bottom lip, his hair damp from the steam. His blue eyes locked on mine, and for a second, I thought he was going to protest, was going to insist he be allowed to help. I imagined his hands moving over my body, untying my bikini top, his hands grabbing at my breasts, his mouth on mine, our tongues exploring each other.

“You sure?” Cole’s eyes slid down over my body, taking in my wet bikini which I knew he could see right through.

He leaned in close to me, his breath against my ear. “I don’t know if you should do it by yourself.” His voice was husky, almost like he was turned on and wanted an excuse to touch me. But that was impossible. Wasn’t it?

I opened my mouth to answer, not sure I was strong enough to resist him touching me.

But the doorbell rang then.

And just like that, the spell was broken.

Cole reached over and set the body wash back down on the shelf.

He grabbed a towel that was hanging on the rack and got out of the shower. I tried not to stare as he dried himself off.

He left the bathroom without saying anything, and I finished my shower, taking extra care not to get my wrist wet.

When I was done, I dressed in his t-shirt and sweatpants, inhaling the scent of his laundry detergent. It smelled like Cole, and I smiled when I realized that even though he was a big shot businessman now, he still used the same laundry detergent we did.

When I got into the hallway, I could hear voices coming from the living room.

“Jesus, Cole,” a girl was saying. “This is low, even for you.”

“Relax, Kalia,” Cole said, and I heard the rustling of bags. “This shit is for my sister.”

“You sister?” Kalia said, sounding relieved. The two of them passed through the living room to the kitchen, and I caught a glimpse of them as they walked by the hallway. Kalia was exactly how I pictured her. Tall, skinny, blonde, beautiful. She was wearing a tiny black miniskirt and pair of high stiletto shoes. She looked effortless and put-together, her hair hanging in a shiny curtain down her back. “Why didn’t you say that? I didn’t know you had a sister.”

The bitter taste of disappointment filled my mouth. Not only was Cole obviously fucking his assistant, but he hadn’t even bothered to mention me to her. It was like he’d just traded one life for another, not even thinking about us at all. I wasn’t surprised, but the rejection sill burned.

“Well, I do and she’s going to be staying here for a while.”

“So does that mean I won’t be spending the night?”

“Kalia, I’m not getting into that right now.” Cole’s voice made it clear that the subject wasn’t up for discussion, and I smiled. I wasn’t sure why, but I felt some kind of competition with this girl, and the fact that Cole wasn’t going to talk to her felt like a win.

“Fine,” Kalia said, sounding like it was anything but.

She stormed out the door, slamming it behind her.

A second later, Cole started down the hallway.

“Wow,” I said. “You let your assistant talk to you like that?”

“Go to bed, Avery,” he said, storming past me. “You’ve had a rough day. The guest room is across the hall.” And with that, he disappeared into a room at the end of the hall, closing the door behind him.



***



The guest room was big and elegant, with a tray ceiling and a king-sized bed with a memory foam mattress and the silkiest sheets I’d ever felt. It was a far cry from the bed I had at home, a twin with a stained mattress covered in mismatched sheets and broken springs poking into me whenever I turned.

I thought I’d have a hard time falling asleep, since I was in a strange place and since my wrist had started throbbing, but I was out as soon as my head hit the pillow.

I dreamt I was back home, and Cole was there. There was a pool in our backyard, even though we didn’t have a pool and never had. I was wearing the same white bikini I’d been wearing all day today, and Cole was chasing me around in the water, splashing me playfully.

When he finally caught me, I giggled and tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but he held me tight.

“Avery,” he whispered. “I love you.” His lips started toward mine, and I closed my eyes and waited for his kiss.

But then, out of nowhere, there was the sound of gunshots. Cole got hit in the chest, and his blood spurted onto my skin. I screamed and turned around, yelling at whoever was shooting to stop.

But there was no one there.

The bullets kept coming, as if out of thin air, hitting Cole over and over again until the water turned red and his body slumped over the side of the pool, lifeless.

I screamed and screamed and screamed.

“Avery, Avery,” Cole said, shaking me awake. “Avery, wake up.”

I sat up in bed, gasping for breath.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, it was just a dream.” He pulled me close to him, and I was shocked to realize I was crying.

“You were dead,” I said. “We were in a pool and you were dead.”

“I’m not,” he said, rubbing small circles on my back. “I’m right here. I’m right here.”

He rocked me back and forth, the motion soothing me.

“It was so real,” I said. “You were dead, you were bleeding.”

He pulled back and took my hand in his, ran it over his cheek. “See?” he said. “I’m here. I’m fine.”

I nodded, then wiped my tears away with my good wrist. “It felt so real,” I whispered.

“You’re safe now,” he said. He sat up and pulled the covers back, then slid into bed next to me. Goosebumps broke out on my arms. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, his biceps flexing as he grabbed a pillow and stuffed it under his head. “I’ll stay here until you fall back asleep.”

I wanted to ask him why he couldn’t sit in the chair across the room until I fell back asleep, but I wanted him with me.

He pulled me close to him, my back to his chest, his arms wrapped around me. It was wrong the way he was holding me – I was his sister. But it felt so good to be in his embrace that I didn’t have the strength to push him away.

I was glad he was wearing sweatpants, too, so that the two of us were at least protected by two layers of clothes. Even so, a second later I felt his cock against my ass. It was hard, and I wriggled out of his grasp and turned around so that I was facing him.

“Hi,” he whispered, pushing a strand of my hair off my forehead.

“Hi,” I breathed.

He slid his hand down over my face, over my collarbone, then down my arm. “Does it still hurt?” he asked, running his finger over my splint.

I shook my head. “No. It feels a lot better.”

He nodded.

“Why did you move away from me?” he demanded. His eyes blazed, and I recognized what I saw in them – it was lust, pure and simple.

“Because it’s not… Cole, it’s not okay for you to be holding me like that.”

He reached out and grabbed me around the waist, pulled me against him, his hands tight, holding me in place. “I decide what’s right,” he growled.

His tone, strong and sure and in charge, instantly turned me on. Heat warmed my center and my breath caught in my chest. He was so close his lips were just inches from mine, and I was afraid he was going to kiss me.

Please, please, kiss me, my body was begging, but my mind screamed in protest.

I ran my hands over his chest and down over his washboard abs. His sweatpants hung low on his hips, so low I caught sight of the top of a tattoo on his hip, one I hadn’t noticed before.

He saw me looking at it and grabbed my hand, forcing me to tug his pants down just a tiny bit.

It was three letters in black ink.

A N B.

I gasped as I traced my finger over the letters.

ANB.

Avery Nicole Buchanan.

He’d had my initials tattooed onto his body.

“I never stopped thinking about you, Avery,” he breathed. “Don’t you ever think that for a second.”

“Cole,” I breathed, choked up. I wanted to ask him why he left us then, why he left me, why he just disappeared in the middle of the night.

He still had my hand in his, and he slid it back up his stomach, back over his chest, up to his lips. He kissed my fingers, his lips leaving a burning hot trail on my skin. I moaned and closed my eyes.

I’d been fighting this my whole life. My whole entire life I’d been fighting the way I felt about him, how badly I wanted to be close to him, to be with him, for him to love me, for him to fuck me the way he fucked all those other girls.

“No,” I said, pushing him away. “Cole, please. No. I can’t.”

Anger burned inside of him and flashed in his eyes, the same anger I’d seen on his face when he’d caught Gordon attacking me in the kitchen.

He moved toward me, like he wanted to grab me, wanted to take what he thought was his. But instead, he got up and left the room.

I laid there in the dark, my breath coming in short gasps.

I tossed and turned, my body keyed up and begging for a release.

Finally, I slid my hands down the front of the sweatpants I was wearing and I rubbed my clit harder and harder until I came.

Then, finally, I was able to sleep.



***



When I woke the next morning, the house was quiet.

There was a note by my bed, written on white paper with Cole’s name stamped on top.

“Avery –Went into the office. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. Your things are in the living room. ~C”

I tiptoed out of bed and into the living room. The couch was piled with bags, and I took a quick look through them. Clothes, underwear, t-shirts, pajamas, earrings… there was everything I could have wanted, helpfully provided by Cole’s assistant, Kalia.

I wondered how Cole could have gotten all that stuff so late at night, but I supposed when you had money, anything was possible.

It didn’t matter.

I couldn’t stay here, not after what had happened last night.

I grabbed the cordless phone off its stand in the kitchen and dialed my mom’s cell.

“Mom,” I said when she answered. “It’s me.”

“Avery!” she said. “I’ve been worried sick. Honey, where are you?”

“I’m at Cole’s,” I said. “In the city.”

“Oh, thank God.” The relief was evident in her voice, and I missed her so much. I knew that things at my house were crazy and fucked up, but right then all I wanted was to be with her.

“I’m coming home, though,” I said. “I’m going to try to figure out how to take the train. Do you think Gordon would let you pick me up at the station in Culver City?” Gordon and my mom shared one car, and he didn’t like my mom driving it on her own.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, so long that I was afraid the call had been disconnected.

“Mom?” I asked.

“Honey,” she said finally. “Gordon told me what happened. And we both think it’s best if you don’t come home right now.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, frowning. “Why wouldn’t I come home?”

“You know how Gordon gets. He needs some time to cool off, and with the way you push his buttons, we both think – ”

“The way I push his buttons?” I repeated. “Did he tell you he backhanded me across the face?”

“He told me you were waltzing around the house wearing a tiny bikini,” she said. “You know what a girl your age can do to a man. You should have known better, Avery.”

“I can’t believe this,” I said, panic rising in my voice. “What am I supposed to do?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” my mom said. “You’re a smart girl. Now, I’ve got to go. We’re about to head out. I love you, honey.”

She hung up without giving me a chance to say goodbye.

I clicked the phone off and stared at it incredulously. What the fuck was I supposed to do now?

There was a list on the phone, of the numbers that were programmed into the phone’s memory. The first one said “office” and I dialed it.

“Buchanan Enterprises,” the receptionist answered.

“Cole Buchanan, please,” I said.

“Mr. Buchanan’s not available at the moment,” she chirped, sounding like an annoying robot. “May I take a message?”

“This is his sister,” I said, biting my lip to keep from screaming “It’s a family emergency.”

“Okay, well, I can have Mr. Buchanan call you back.” I could tell from her tone that she didn’t believe me. Cole hadn’t told Kalia he had a sister, why would this woman know? There were probably people who called him at work all the time, trying to get to Cole by pretending to be a family member.

“Never mind,” I said, and hung up on her.

I would just have to go down there.



***



Finding the address of Buchanan Enterprises was easy.

Getting in to see Cole was a whole other thing.

It didn’t help that the clothes Kalia had bought for me were a tiny bit too small. All the things were designer – designer pants, designer bags, even designer t-shirts. I was guessing a size ten in a pair of Michael Kors jeans was different than a size ten at Old Navy. The jeans and t-shirt I was wearing made me look like I was wearing clothes that were too tight on purpose, like I was trying to put everything on display.

I charmed the security guard in the lobby into letting me into the building, but the receptionist at Buchanan Enterprises wasn’t having it.

She was another gorgeous woman, with silky black hair and almond-shaped eyes. I recognized her as the one who’d answered the phone – her bitchy tone was unmistakable.

“Please,” I said. “I’m his sister. I promise. Can you please just let me in?” I was starting to feel desperate, and I could hear it in my voice.

“No,” she said. “And if you don’t leave this moment, I’m going to have to call security.”

At that moment, a door behind her opened, and I caught a glimpse of a long conference room. Cole was standing at the front, talking to a group of employees.

“Cole!” I yelled. “Cole!”

He looked up just as the door closed, our eyes meeting.

A second later, the receptionist’s phone rang. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, I understand, Mr. Buchanan.” She replaced the receiver. “Mr. Buchanan will see you in his office,” she said, giving me a suspicious look. “You can head down the hall. It’s the second door on the left.”

She hit a button and the door buzzed, allowing me in.

I found Cole’s office and sat down in the chair in front of his desk.

A few minutes later, he walked in. He was wearing a black suit, a white collared shirt, and shiny black shoes. His hair was perfectly styled, his cufflinks shiny, his watch giving him an air of sophistication. He was so gorgeous, so in control, that he took my breath away.

“Shut the door, Avery,” he said, even though he’d just come walking through it and could have easily shut it himself.

I did as I was told.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he asked. All traces of the softness and vulnerability he’d shown last night when he was holding me were gone. Now he was cold, hard, all business.

“I needed to talk to you,” I said.

“And you thought showing up here and demanding to be let in was a good idea?” He took his suit coat off and draped it across the back of his chair.

“No,” I said. “No, I… I’m sorry, but I’m having an emergency.”

He didn’t say anything, just put his hands on the back of his chair and stared me down, waiting for me to go on.

“I called my mom and she told me I can’t go home. She said… she said she didn’t think it was a good idea.” I started to cry then, my breath coming in ragged gasps, tears sliding down my cheeks. “She said…she said she heard what I did to Gordon, that I’d been walking around in skimpy outfits, that I should have known better than to provoke him.”

I looked up at Cole.

He was still staring at me, his face not softening at all. I knew what he was thinking. I told you so.

“You were right,” I said, wiping my tears away. “About my mom. I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have been willing to give up my life for her, not when she was just so willing to just kick me out like that.”

“No, “Cole said. “You shouldn’t have.” His voice was steely, in control, and I marveled at how manly he looked. This was his company, and he looked the part of the billionaire businessman, with his expensive clothes and gleaming offices and air of invincibility.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” I said.

“You’ll stay with me.” It wasn’t a question. It was a command.

“Oh, no,” I said. “I can’t – “ I stood up, like that was going to prove somehow that I wasn’t going to stay with him.

He was next to me in a flash, pushing me up against the wall. “You’ll stay with me,” he repeated. I shivered. “Stop telling me no.”

I should have been frightened. But I wasn’t. I was turned on.

“Okay,” I whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“Good.” He loosened his grip on me a tiny bit, but his eyes blazed even brighter than they had last night. I remembered how it had felt to touch his body, the tattoo he’d had on his hip, how my fingers had found my pussy, moving until I came, the whole time wishing it had been his dick. “You’ll do what I say now,” he growled.

I nodded.

“Say it.”

“I’ll do whatever you say, Cole.”

This excited him. It excited me, too. I liked the idea of being at his mercy, of having to do anything he said.

He ran his finger over the top of my V-neck shirt, pulling it down just a tiny bit so he could see the top of my bra.

“First rule,” he said. “I get to see that sexy little body of yours any time I want.”

I nodded, mesmerized by the electricity that was zinging through the room. His voice was hypnotizing me, pulling me under, and I was helpless to resist.

Cole smiled. “Strip.”

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 19.01.2016

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And it was true. He’d slept with most of my friends, and any other hot girl he happened to want. It had been infuriating when we were younger. He’d had things handed to him because he was beautiful and smart and good at sports. No one at school had cared about the fact that he was poor or that he lived in Culver City, which everyone knew was full of drugs and prostitution. I hated him because he was everything I wasn’t. He was outgoing, I was shy. He was smart, I made mediocre grades. He was special, I wasn’t. But the biggest reason I hated him was because he left us. He left me. COLE I should have left. I should have turned around and walked out of there and never came back. But I didn’t. Stop, I told myself. That’s your stepsister. She’s off limits. But nothing was off limits. I had money, good looks, and power. And those things made it easy to get whatever you wanted. I should have walked away. But I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I wanted her. And I always