All Chapters of Claimed By My Stepbrother: Chapter 1 - Chapter 5

Jenna's POVMy mother is an angel. Soft-hearted, gentle, always smiling, and too good for this world.My boyfriend’s father, on the other hand, is a complete scumbag. I’ve never met him in person, but from all the things my boyfriend tells me, I already know I won’t like him. He’s cold. Controlling. A man who cares more about legacy and reputation than he does about God.And my boyfriend doesn’t stand a chance in that department.In a way, maybe that’s why we’re so drawn to each other. We’re both a little messed up. Both fighting our own demons. But we find peace in each other.He’s the wildfire I didn’t know I wanted to touch. And me? I’m the good girl. Always polite, always perfect. But behind the sweet smile and quiet voice is a girl who craves something darker. Something raw. Something twisted and thrilling.And my boyfriend... he gives me all of that. He knows how to touch me like I’m something precious and break me in the same moment. I love the danger in his kiss, the roughness

Jenna's POV. The restroom door slams open, sending me jolting and almost tripping on the tiled floor. I spin around just as I catch his reflection in the mirror. “What the fuck, Jace?!” I whisper-shout, hands braced on the cool porcelain sink behind me, heart pounding against my rib. He closes the door behind him, locking it without breaking eye contact with me. “That’s exactly what I was going to ask you.” His voice is low, breathless, as if he just ran after me, which he probably did. His eyes – those wild, stormy, maddening eyes – burn into mine like he's barely holding himself together. I open my mouth, then close it again. My brain is still buffering. “What the hell is going on, J? Why were you sitting there?” he demands, stepping closer. “At the same table. With my fucking father.” My throat tightens. He calls me ‘J.’ when he's angry, and calls me ‘Jae’ when he’s soft. And right now? I’m J. “Answer me,” he growls, now only a foot away, heat radiating off his

Jenna’s POV “Baby, are you sure you're okay?” my mom asks me as she tucks me into bed. “Yes, Mom, I'm fine,” I whisper, though my voice is cracked from all the crying. My eyes sting and my chest aches like it’s been stepped on. She brushes my hair back from my forehead like she used to when I was a kid. Her touch is gentle. Too gentle. Like she’s afraid I might shatter. “Oh, my darling,” she sighs, eyes glistening. “How will you comfort your friend if you can't even hold yourself together?” “Her father was a good man,” I cry harder. Hell, what could I have said? That she and her fiance are the reason I'm going blind with tears? I had to lie, cook up a fictional story about my best friend suddenly losing her father. I told my mom the man was just as loving as she is, to his daughter, told her my friend has no one else to rely on, and now my mom is barely han