A Stepbrother Romance
I’m too young to feel this old.
Throbbing dance music blasts through the crappy frat speakers so loud it sounds like it’s playing through a vat of oatmeal. I can’t believe the plaster hasn’t been shaken right off the grimy walls yet.
Even so, someone’s shrill voice cuts through, “Where the hell is she? Let me in! I know she’s in there.”
While I’m trying to figure out what I’m doing in this shithole, some jackass is desperate to get in, holding the door open. If he wasn’t screeching like a little girl I probably wouldn’t even be able to hear him. I wish I fucking couldn’t. He’s whiny, he’s annoying and worst of all, he’s driving all the hot chicks that are keeping this party bearable away by letting in the cold air. He could at least close the fucking door.
A couple of not-quite-falling-down-drunk frat thugs are trying to keep him out, but it’s like watching toddlers fight in a sandbox. Lots of pushing, shoving and yelling but nobody can land a punch to save their lives.
If he’d been sober, he could’ve pushed right by them, but the fifth of Jack in his hand is almost empty, and that shit had to have gone somewhere. By the slur in his whiny voice and the way he sways while trying to stay upright, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out where.
I’d laugh if it wasn’t fucking February and cold enough to freeze my balls off. If they don’t settle this soon, and by that I mean in like the next five seconds, I’m going to settle it for them, just so I can defrost my nads.
Eventually he gives up trying to get in, and just yells at the top of his lungs, “Claire! You can’t fucking kick me out like this!” He’s not even wearing a jacket, but maybe he doesn’t have anything left to freeze off. Sounds like he’s already handed his manhood over to some chick.
Jesus Christ, what the hell am I even doing here?
Were our frat parties always this lame, or has my chapter just turned into the reject pile in the years since I graduated? They used to be fun. It’s supposed to be an alumni party, but I don’t recognize anyone. Maybe all my old buddies knew something I didn’t.
There’s nothing for me here other than free watery beer, and now I can’t even drink that in peace. Sure, these are my old stomping grounds, but I’m starting to remember why I was so goddamn glad to get outta here. Fucking Neanderthals.
“I know you’re in there!”
Oh for fuck’s sake. He’s still going, and his voice is like nails on chalkboard.
Slamming my beer down on the makeshift plywood coffee table, I pull myself to my feet. I crack my fingers and loosen up my neck. Anyone who gets between me and the damn door is going to get their ass handed to them. It’s been a few years since I stepped into a ring, but I’m pretty sure I can still flatten any of these idiots.
That’s when I see her, floating through the room like a fucking angel.
Fuck, she’s hot. Deep red hair. Button nose and sexy, full blowjob lips. And shit, her curves. They go for miles. Her perfect tits threaten to spill out of her tight top, while her short, loose skirt flutters like it’s just asking me to flip it up to show off that gorgeous ass.
This whole night might end up worth it if it involves her, my dick, and a whole lot of screaming my name. When I let her up for air that is.
Change of plan. I’d rather fuck than fight.
She’s coming towards me, and I spring into action, putting my hand out and flashing her my widest spread-your-legs-for-me smile. It’s a well-practiced move, and one that’s been scientifically proven to drop panties. Except this time. She strides right past me, like I’m not even there, leaving my hand hanging.
Well, there’s a blow to the old ego. What the fuck?
“Michael, shut up.” Her voice is vibrating with anger, and loud enough to compete with the heavy bass. Even pissed off, there’s an underlying musicality to it, a sweetness that I want to taste, to savor. Alright, so maybe I’m hearing what I want to hear, because there’s nothing sweet about the ice cold glare she aims at the drunk trying to get in. It’s even colder than the outside.
His eyes snap to her with the intense tunnel vision of someone who’s completely wasted, then widen in recognition. The furious goddess who just floated past me must be Claire. How the fuck did a sexy piece of ass like her ever end up with a jackass like this dork?
She stops well out of his reach and crosses her arms right under a magnificent pair of tits, her deep brown eyes shooting daggers. “Did you seriously think they’d let you in? Let alone like this? Shout all you want, but nobody here is going to listen. Calm down, turn around and slither back to whoever’s hole you just crawled out of.”