S.O.B.: A Stepbrother Affair - Chapter #1 - Free To Read

Murphy’s Law: anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.

That thought runs through my head as the wide-eyed panicked girl stares back at me through the polished steel doors. I hardly recognize myself, so pale, so fragile. But that’s what happens when the elevator you’re riding on screeches to a stop somewhere in between the eighty-ninth floor and certain death.

Because that’s what I’ll be—dead—if this metal box decides to crap out completely and plummet back to earth.

After a long flight and sharing a ride with a man—who mumbled to himself and spent the duration of the trip from the airport to a shady looking hotel—that had me reaching in my purse for my stun gun, all I want is a hot shower and my pajamas. Instead, I’m seconds away from having a total meltdown and the couple across from me keeps slanting worried looks my way to the point where I feel like screaming.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t think you’re going to vomit, do you?”

Of course, I want to throw up! I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to do anything more. The woman looks like a demon underneath the glow of the red emergency lighting, adding another level of horror to my night, and even though I know she’s just trying to be nice, I consider telling her if I do, I’ll be sure to do it on her Manolos. But I hold my tongue. Instead, I smile faintly and glance up at the blank numbered panel, praying like hell for the lights to come back on.

“Is everyone still doing alright in there?”

The ethereal voice emanates from the speaker in the wall and the minute I hear it, a wave of renewed hope surges in my chest. “Jake! Where the hell have you been? You have to get me out of here. I’m freaking the fuck out!”

The couple standing across from me frowns at my language, but we’ve been stuck in here for over an hour and I’m all out of give-a-fucks. Jake—checking in the last hour to make sure we’re still breathing and that we haven’t resorted to cannibalizing each other while we wait for the power to come back on—is all that’s keeping me from climbing the walls.

It’s a citywide blackout, perfectly timed for my arrival. Still, one would think the sheer lavishness of this place would ward against such things. Next time, I’m taking the stairs.

“Hang in there, Miss Marquis. I’m sure the li—”

There’s a buzzing noise, and then the elevator floods with light as the power kicks back on and we jerk into motion.

“Yes!” I jump up, throwing a fist into the air in celebration. I’ve never felt so alive, especially now that I know I actually will be. “Jake, I could kiss you!” I shout up at the speaker.

His rough chuckle fills the small space and I laugh with him as we resume our ascent. He sticks with me long enough for the couple to disembark on their floor and for me to reach mine—all the way at the top. The penthouse.

“Thank you for keeping me sane, Jake,” I tell him as I gather my luggage.

“It was my pleasure, Miss Marquis.”

“Please, I feel like we’re old friends now. Call me Vista.”

“Enjoy your evening, Vista.”

I step out onto gleaming black marble and breathe in the soft scent of gardenias as I approach the only door on the floor. It’s tall, heavy, and paneled, surrounded by massive vases stuffed with fragrant flowers. Pretentious, just like its owner. One would think that having a rich man for a stepfather would have jaded me to this kind of wealth, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.

I pull the key that was waiting for me at the desk from my pocket. It’s gold and completely ordinary, but I know whatever is waiting for me behind that door is going to be anything but.

Letting myself in, I see that everything is dark and breathe a sigh of relief. Levi isn’t home. I hadn’t realized how wound up I was until just now. Knowing I’m alone? The tension bleeds right out of me.

Fishing around for a light switch, I rub my hand over the wall to my immediate right, nearly knocking something big and heavy over in the process. Once I can see again, I roll my eyes.

The thing that I almost knocked over? It’s a giant bust of a naked woman. She’s missing her head and arms, but the enormous set of boobs is right where it’s supposed to be. It always amazes me what some people consider art.

Taking a look around, I’m not at all surprised by what I find. The place is cavernous, modern to a fault. What little furniture there is, is sleek and expensive, but neutral so that it takes a backseat to the decorations. Which are numerable and racy as all get out.

Wheeling my luggage across the stark white marble floors behind me, I’m drawn to the massive floor-to-ceiling windows that take up the entire eastern wall affording what I know will be a breathtaking view of the city leading out to Lake Michigan. As I approach, however, I am distracted by a burst of color and veer off to the right, finding myself standing before a wall-sized mural of geometric shapes forming a...yep, that’s an orgy.

I can’t believe I agreed to this. Money isn’t everything. But it is when you don’t have any, a voice in my head whispers. Unlike Levi, I’ve had to work for everything I have. Nothing came easy, and also unlike him, I know what it’s like to pinch a penny. When my mother married his father, a wealthy divorcee who made his fortune on Wall Street, I was already on my way out the door. So Levi and I? We come from two totally different worlds.

One month. The offer my stepfather made me is going to help me pave a path through the rest of my life. Not many people fresh out of college have the opportunity to start up their own business, and without his seed money and connections, I’d have to spend years working my way up the business ladder and forging the relationships he’s willing to hand over on a silver platter. And I have Levi’s broken bones to thank for it all.

One month of putting my hands on Levi’s tight body. One month of rubbing every inch of the smooth, sun-kissed skin I’ve only seen in magazines for the last four years. One month of his insufferable attitude and I’ll be set.

It’s going to be pure torture, but only a moron would pass this up.

And I’m no moron.

An hour later, I’m rethinking everything when Levi bursts through the door on a set of crutches. A man with a thick beard similar to his follows in behind him, a brunette under one arm and a blonde tucked under the other, and kicks the door closed behind them with his Van covered heel. They’re loud and obnoxious and totally wasted.

What the hell is Levi thinking, partying after undergoing major surgery to repair the break in his femur caused, once again, by his recklessness? Granted, that was three months ago, but with the kind of medications the doctors must have him on, he has no business going out drinking.

I’m momentarily shocked into stillness by their intrusion. I’m sitting here, in a spaghetti strap tank top and yoga pants, a Nutrigrain bar hovering in front of my lips, when my gaze collides with his and it all comes flooding back.

I haven’t seen Levi since the wedding. Standing up for his father and I for my mother, he’d refused to even look at me as they recited their vows, which killed me, adding to the pain his words delivered just hours earlier. I wanted him to acknowledge me, needed to see in his eyes that I meant something more to him, that I wasn’t another throwaway in his life, but he never did. And when it was all said and done, he’d taken off with one of the bridesmaids rather than continue occupying the same space.

My last memory of him is much like the picture before me now—Levi, too damn sexy for his own good, drunk off his ass, with a sure thing waiting in the wings.

We were only kids then. We’ve both had time to grow up. And Levi? He’s definitely changed.

My gaze skates down his lithe form, taking in his towering height, wide shoulders, and broad chest. As a teenager, Levi was hot. Now, he’s sexy as sin. The magazines didn’t do him justice. The man who stands before me now oozes sex appeal from every pore. Between the casual style of loose cotton pants and a band t-shirt revealing fully tattooed arms, the heavy old beard growth that covers half his face, and dark, wavy hair that looks wild and unkempt, he’s got this rugged, casual, bad boy persona down pat. The giant cast running up three-quarters of his left leg just adds further credibility to the look.

And I’m totally checking him out.

When I realize what I’m doing, my eyes fly back up and with a flush of heat I see that he’s scoping me out, too.

When our gazes clash again, a cocky smile lifts one side of Levi’s mouth, and I know, without that beard in the way, there would be a slight dimple in his cheek. It’s his signature smile. The one I see in all the tabloids. He flashes it and women melt. Including me.

His stepsister.

One of the girls giggles as she approaches him and presses her hand to the center of his chest as she attempts to curl up against him. The sound is jarring, the sight almost comical as he is forced to adjust the crutches and steady his balance, and I blink, remembering where I am, who I am, and most importantly, why I’m here.

“Levi,” the girl says in a voice that is pure seduction, “who’s that?” Her fall of blonde hair sways over her slender shoulder as she jerks her head in my direction, refusing to look at me.

Staring straight into my eyes, Levi tells her, “That is my dear sister.”