Rule Number 1: Kissing Your Stepbrother Again Will Ruin You

There are exactly three things a girl expects to find when she accidentally opens the wrong bedroom door at a graduation party.

A sleeping drunk.

A couple making out.

Or a bathroom.

What she does not expect to find is a half-dressed stranger staring back at her after she’s interrupted his masturbation session.

Unfortunately for me, that’s exactly what happened.

Few minutes ago, I had gotten tired of the noises from drunk classmates and the music. I sought a quiet place to stay for a period of time, at least until the party was over. Isa, my best friend, was responsible for dragging me out of my room tonight. It wasn’t my plan to attend our graduation after-party.

My plan tonight was simple.

Read novels and sleep.

I left the party downstairs and ventured upstairs, past drunk classmates, beer bottles, and cigarettes until I reached a dimly lit hallway.

The sound of heavy breathing was the first thing I heard. I don’t know why I felt so curious to check it out. It could’ve been a couple having a make-out session or someone watching some R18 movies, all of which wasn’t supposed to be my business.

My legs kept moving in the direction of the sound. I left the dimly lit hallway and found myself in the doorway of a room. Its door was slightly ajar. Peeking through the open space, a low groan filtered from inside the room. The vaulted ceilings amplified the sound.

Curiously, I closed my eyes, trying to place where the noise was coming from.

“Ah, fuck, yeah.”

My lids flipped open. This wasn’t an R18 film playing, nor was it a couple making out. Someone—a guy, if I’m not mistaken—was…...

He can’t be… can he?

I left the protective corner of the door and tiptoed inside the room, ducking just behind a bookshelf and peeking through the planks of its wood.

Oh, he totally is.

My breath caught and my heart stuttered, then galloped. I should have turned around the second I realized what he was doing.

Instead, I stared.

And that single stupid decision would come back to haunt me nine months later.

He was masturbating.

Vigorously.

Enthusiastically.

His head was bowed, eyes screwed tightly shut, brow furrowed, lip curled. I couldn’t see what was happening below the waist, but his biceps flexed and his arm moved at a furious pace. His ribcage expanded and contracted with each panted breath. He shifted, and suddenly I could see the goods.

And holy shit, was he packing a seriously huge cock.

I’d never seen one this big. Even in his massive fist, it was impressive.

I should look away.

I shouldn’t be listening. How in the world did I get here?

Even as I tried to reason with my brain, my eyes couldn’t pry away from the sight of him jerking off with unparalleled zeal. Every muscle was tight and corded. A sheen of sweat covered his shoulders as his hand moved faster.

God, he was rough with himself.

He groaned, and his head rolled back on the next aggressive tug. He grunted out a low, “Fuck yeah,” and shifted so he was standing in front of one of the mirrors.

There were two. One directly before him, and the other directly behind him. I get that there's a different feeling one feels when seeing yourself touch yourself . But why two mirrors?

His hips jerked, his strokes lost their rhythm, and he blew his load all over the vanity.

I clenched below the waist. My skin was dewy, and my heart was slamming around in my chest.

I had just watched a total stranger masturbate.

And based on the way my body was humming with pent-up sexual energy, I liked it.

A lot. I must say.

This… this wasn’t right. I’d never felt this way before, and it wasn’t good for someone trying to live a celibate lifestyle. I had to leave.

Unfortunately, this was when things turned ghastly for me.

I whirled a little too sharply, knocking some books off the shelves. I stopped in my tracks. Oh, good Lord.

My gaze crawled from the books on the floor to the stranger’s face.

Stupid me. I should’ve acted very fast by finding somewhere else to hide, but my brain froze instantly.

And within seconds, the stranger’s gaze met mine.

I was about to take a step back and run as fast as I could away from here, but he was faster. It was all a blur and before I could fathom what was happening, my back was pressed against the wall, a hand on my neck, lifting my head up to stare into the deepest set of blue eyes I had ever seen.

A smirk rested on his lips as he sized me up. “Now, look what the cat dragged in,” he said.

His tone sent a shiver down my spine.

I swallowed hard.

He stood so close that I could feel the heat coming off him. Up close, he looked so intimidating. He was tall with very broad shoulders. Those blue eyes seemed capable of seeing straight through every thought in my head.

I should say something.

An apology.

An excuse.

Anything to get me out of this mess.

Instead, I just stared.

His lips twitched. “Cat got your tongue, love?”

My face burned. “I—I made a wrong turn. I swear I wasn’t watching. I didn’t see anything.”

The moment the words left my mouth, I wanted the ground to open and swallow me. What have I gotten myself into?

One dark eyebrow lifted. “Really?”

The amusement in his voice made my embarrassment ten times worse.

I groaned internally. Wonderful. Not only had I walked into a room I wasn’t supposed to enter, but now my tongue felt like lead, making me look like an idiot.

His gaze stayed fixed on mine. For some reason, he wasn’t letting me go. He stared at me with curiosity, like I was some strange puzzle he’d suddenly found interesting.

“Well,” he continued after a moment, “that’s unfortunate.”

I blinked. “What is?”

A slow smile spread across his face.

“You looked interested.”

My heart nearly stopped. “I—I was not.”

The smile widened.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

Heat flooded my cheeks. I hated how easily he could fluster me. And what made it worse was that I could see it in his eyes that he knew what he was doing.

The confidence in them.

The certainty.

The complete lack of nervousness.

Meanwhile, I felt like my brain had completely stopped functioning.

“Can I leave now?” I managed to ask.

“Do you want to?”

The question caught me off guard. Did I?

Common sense screamed yes. Absolutely yes. Leave. Run. Pretend none of this ever happened.

Yet somehow my feet remained planted to the floor.

His gaze dropped briefly to my mouth before returning to my eyes. The movement was small, almost unnoticeable.

Yet my stomach did a backflip.

His gaze crawled from my lips back to my eyes, making my knees wobble.

Dangerous.

That was the word that suddenly came to mind.

This guy was dangerous. He didn’t look violent, nor did he threaten me, but he had a way of looking at me that made me forget what I was supposed to be thinking.

And that scared me a lot.

“I don’t even know you,” I blurted out. “What’s your name?”

“That’s your biggest concern right now?” He looked amused.

“Yes.”

“Hmm, interesting.”

I frowned. “Why do you keep saying things like that?”

“Like what?” A corner of his lips lifted.

“Like I’m some experiment you’re studying.”

“Maybe I am… studying you.”

My breath caught. The room suddenly felt smaller.

For a few seconds, neither of us spoke. The silence between us stretched, not in an awkward manner. It just felt charged. Like something was building that neither of us knew how to stop.

Or so I was thinking.

Apparently, he did know how to stop it. He took a small step back.

My neck was finally free from his grip. The sudden distance allowed me to breathe again.

“You should probably go, blondie,” he said.

I stared at him. That wasn’t what I expected.

“What?”

“You heard me.” His expression had become unreadable.

“Why?”

He shrugged.

“You are not my type.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?” Did he just say that to me? I found it hard to believe.

A laugh escaped him.

“Go.”

I folded my arms, ransacking my brain cells for a comeback.

“And who told you I want to be your type?”

His eyes held mine, a smirk forming on his lips. “Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy the show I put up for you, love. ’Cause I know you did.”

I tried my best not to show any expression that I didn’t want him to see.

He must be a jerk. The confidence oozing out of him irritated me. Who did he think he was?

He’d known me for all of five minutes. Yet somehow he spoke like he’d already figured me out.

And for reasons I couldn’t explain, that bothered me more than it should have.

“You’re very annoying,” I informed him.

“I’m getting that impression.”

This was the perfect time for me to leave. I really should be on my way now.

Instead, I stayed there for another few seconds, caught between embarrassment, irritation, and a curiosity that refused to leave me the hell alone.

Finally, I willed myself to walk toward the door. I paused and looked back.

Those blue eyes were still on me, arms folded, back leaning against the bookshelf, with his legs crossed in front of him. That irritating, confident smile still on his lips.

He waved. “Goodbye, blondie.”

I made a face at him while reaching for the doorknob.

“Hey,” he called.

“What?” I snapped.

For a brief moment, something flashed across his face. Before I could try to decipher what it was, it was gone immediately, like it had never been there.

“Try not to walk into any more private rooms. You might not be lucky next time.”

My face immediately turned red.

I scoffed, turning back, my head held high, back straight. I walked out of the room.

His laughter followed me all the way out.