Fucked by my stepbrother (1)

Lindsay

The arrivals hall was buzzing with people, noisily dragging their suitcases to and fro, but I only had eyes for one person. I stood on the tip of my toes, my eyes darting around.

I hadn’t seen him in years—not since he left for college. And the memory I had of him was still fixed in the shape of a boy; it’s not like he posted regularly on social media.

He was tall, sure, but lanky, with that darned smirk he always seemed to have on his face. My stepbrother. That was all he was.

So why did my stomach twist like this? I let out a big exhale. I was going to blame my nerves on excitement. I missed my brother, I told myself.

I craned my neck as the line of passengers began to troop out from the gate, ignoring the flutters in my heart. I scanned each face, my heart tripping whenever I thought I’d spotted him, only to feel the letdown when it wasn’t him.

Then I saw him. I sucked in a deep breath and stilled.

He was taller than I remembered, or maybe I never noticed how tall he was. The black fitted t-shirt he wore clung to his chest and muscled arms; he had a duffel bag slung effortlessly over one arm.

His jaw was sharper, his face older, no traces of boyishness left. His dark hair fell a little longer over his forehead, and when his eyes swept the crowd, there was something so intense about them. Were they always this blue?

This wasn’t the same Liam I remembered. This was a man.

Okay, Lindsay, control it. That’s your brother! Okay, maybe he was only my stepbrother for a few years, but still… “Lindsay!” I muttered under my breath.

He saw me then, and his mouth tugged into a slow grin. My heart skipped a beat. I waved awkwardly, realizing too late how stiff I looked.

His steps quickened, and then he was right there in front of me, close enough that I had to tilt my chin up to meet his eyes.

“Hey,” he said, his voice deeper than I remembered.

I managed a small smile. “Hey yourself,” I croaked, biting down on my lower lip. Control it, Lindsay!

Then he pulled me into a hug.

I hadn’t been prepared for it—for the way his strong arms wrapped firmly around me, his chest solid against mine, the faint scent of clean soap and cologne enveloping me.

The hug lasted longer than it should have. I should have pulled away, but I loved the feel of his hand on my lower back.

Should his hand be that low? Or was I reading too much into this? It was just a hug between siblings. It couldn’t be more than that, right?

My skin was hot where he touched me. I swallowed. “Hi, brother,” I whispered, my voice catching on the word.

He was my brother, after all. I wondered if anyone walking by, seeing us like this, would believe we were siblings.

He leaned back just enough to look at me, his eyes sweeping over my face, my hair. His gaze lingered a bit longer on my lips, then caught my eyes.

I sharply inhaled.

“You’ve grown,” he said finally, in his deep, low voice.

I laughed nervously, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. “Well, yeah, that happens over four years.”

He stepped back a bit, the ghost of a smirk on his lips as he looked me up and down.

I was beginning to feel self-conscious. I grabbed for his bag just to give myself something to do. “Come on, let’s get out of here before we hit traffic.”

He handed it over reluctantly, his knuckles brushing mine as he let go. It was a brief connection, and yet I felt those darned flutters again. Maybe I should have insisted that our parents come pick him up.

We walked side by side toward the parking lot. The silence that settled between us was awkward. It was never awkward between us. Yes, it took us time after our parents got together for us to get close, but we did.

We had a normal relationship, even if it was only for six months before he had to go to college.

By the time we reached the car, my chest was tight. I fumbled with the keys, desperate to shake off the tension between us.

He slid into the passenger seat like he owned it, stretching out his toned legs, his thigh brushing the console between us.

I gripped the steering wheel. This was ridiculous. It was just him. Just my stepbrother.

So why did it suddenly feel like the ground beneath me wasn’t steady anymore?

The drive back was worse. The car’s interior felt too small, his scent filling the whole space. I was acutely aware of him beside me. I clutched the steering wheel until my knuckles were white.

Maybe I should say something; the silence was nerve-racking. Should I turn on the music? That would be awkward too. We’ve been apart for years, and we should be playing catch-up instead of sitting in silence.

“So,” he said, breaking the silence.

I sighed in relief.

“You still driving this beat-up thing?”

I rolled my eyes, grateful for the distraction. “Hey, this car is reliable. Don’t insult her.”

He chuckled, a deep, rich sound that reverberated in his chest. I stole a quick glance at him, realizing just how much I loved seeing him laugh. “Alright, alright. Just saying, I remember the AC barely worked last time I was in here.”

“It’s fine now,” I muttered, flicking the vent toward him.

Silence fell on us again. My chest tightened—you could cut the tension with a pair of scissors. I wanted to say something, anything, but the words stuck on my lips.

Then he leaned back further in his seat, stretching lazily, arms raised before letting them drop. The movement pulled his t-shirt taut across his chest, the faint definition of muscles visible beneath.

It didn’t help that his t-shirt lifted up a bit, revealing his flat stomach. My eyes darted away before I realized I’d been staring.

“Not bad,” he teased lightly.

I frowned, glancing over. “What?”

His smirk deepened. “You. Trying to sneak a look. Don’t worry, I’ll let it slide.”

My face was flushed. “I wasn’t—” I gripped the wheel tighter, ears burning from embarrassment.

He laughed softly. “Relax. I’m just messing with you.” But there was a twinkle in his eyes that told me maybe he wasn’t joking.

I looked away from him quickly and decided to focus on the road. All I had to do was drive my insanely hot stepbrother home in one piece, and afterward, I could go back to ignoring him.

This would all blow over. Maybe I could finally forget all the nasty thoughts I’ve had toward him.

“So… are you in a relationship?” His tone was casual.

My pulse jumped, and I almost missed the turn. “Uh, not really,” I said quickly.

“Not really?” he pressed, his tone curious, a tinge of amusement in his voice. “What does that mean?”

I swallowed, trying to keep my eyes on the road. “It means I’m not. Okay? Don’t interrogate me. You’ve been gone forever; you don’t get to play big brother all of a sudden.”

His lips curved into a faint smile. “Didn’t realize I needed permission to ask.”

“You don’t,” I snapped, though it came out weaker than I meant it to.

The truth was, the question itself wasn’t what unsettled me. It was the way he asked it, the way his gaze slid over me as though the answer mattered more than it should.

Why did he care if I was in a relationship, and why was he looking at me like he wanted to ogle me?

I shifted in my seat, trying to focus on the road ahead. My heart was hammering in my chest.

He leaned an elbow on the console, closer than he needed to be. His scent drifted toward me, making it harder to breathe. “You’ve changed,” he said. “You’re… different now.”

I forced a laugh to hide my nervousness. “Yeah, well, four years does that to a person. You’re different too.”

His mouth quirked, but his eyes stayed on me. “Guess we’ll have to get used to it.”

I let out an inaudible sigh of relief when I arrived at the house.

His lips curled into a small smile. “Thank you, baby sister…”

My eyes widened and my jaw dropped. He used to call me baby sister to infuriate me. “Don’t even start—” The words died on my lips when he suddenly leaned toward me, his hand around my midriff. His knees brushed against mine.

He peered at me from underneath long lashes, his face only inches away from mine. I stole a glance at his full lips. Why did he have to have such good, kissable lips?

His lips curled into a smirk; no doubt he knew what I was thinking right now.

I sucked in a deep breath and shut my eyes, my tongue darting across my lips, wetting them. I should protest; I should pull away…