Stepbrother Broken (The Hawthorne Brothers Book 2) Page 6
Sympathy wrings my heartstrings as I reflect for the millionth time on how hard these past few years must have been on Anna. I wish there was some way to talk to her about it, find out how she’s really doing. But she’s become so closed off to me and Maddie that I wouldn’t even know where to begin.
“So, you want to see this place or what?” Anna asks, walking past me toward the house.
“Oh. Uh. Sure,” I reply, trailing behind her, “Might as well.”
Despite my reservations about this trip, I can’t help but be impressed by John’s lakeside home. The sprawling interior features a palatial great room with two fireplaces, an incredible, fully stocked kitchen, and more than half a dozen guest rooms. The decor strikes just the right balance between rustic and modern, and it’s far more tidy than I would expect, what with four men living here and all. Speaking of all those men…
“Where are these sons I’ve heard about?” I ask Anna, as we wrap up our tour in the guest bedroom I’ve been assigned.
“I barely caught a glimpse of them when I got here this morning,” she tells me, settling down on the quilt-covered twin bed, “The two younger ones are off camping tonight. They’re getting back tomorrow afternoon. And the oldest one hasn’t even shown up yet.”
“What are they like?” I ask her, sitting cross-legged on the bed. I’ll take my sisterly girl talk whenever I can get it.
“Tough to say,” she shrugs, “They’re pretty quiet. Barely said a word to me before they left. Real hot though.”
“Oh yeah?” I press.
“Yeah,” she replies, her long platinum hair falling across her face as she glances down at her hands. So much for girl talk. Maybe a different line of questioning would go over better?
“So…How has your gap year been so far?” I ask her. Rather than starting college right away, Anna decided to take a year off. She’s a wonderful photographer, and has been building up quite the portfolio in the lead up to applying for art school. If that’s what she decides to do, that is.
“You really don’t have to do that,” she mutters, looking up at me sharply.
“Do what?” I reply, taken aback.
“Make small talk with me,” she goes on, “I’m your sister, not your dentist.”
“Well, you’re not really giving me an opening Anna,” I reply, “I’m just trying to—”
“Look,” she cuts me off, “Things are going to be weird between us, Sophie. It’s inevitable. I just wish you wouldn’t try to muscle through it. You’re supposed to be the one other Porter woman who’s as allergic to bullshit as I am, right?”
“What,” I reply, a sly smile spreading across my face, “You don’t want me to puke rainbows and butterflies all over you like Mom does?”
“Or obsess about saying the perfect thing—at the perfect time—to the point of insanity, like Maddie,” she adds, invoking our older sister’s pathological tendency for perfectionism.
I laugh, relishing this taste of my and Anna’s childhood dynamic. Madeleine is three years older than me, and claimed Dad as her best friend long before I or Annabel showed up on the scene. With Mom off in the clouds, Anna and I were left to our own devices most of the time, and the friendship that sprung up between us is deeper than any I’ve ever known. Maybe there’s hope for us yet?
“Just be real with me, Sophie,” Anna goes on, fixing her big blue eyes on my face, “Isn’t that what your fancy drama school is supposed to be teaching you how to do?”
“Sure, onstage,” I laugh, “Real life is far more complicated.”
“Tell me about it,” she sighs, lying back on the twin bed.
I lay down beside her, staring up at the gently spinning ceiling fan. In this moment, I can feel the distance between us collapse just a hair. What I wouldn’t give to feel that closeness that used to be such a given between us again.
“For real then,” I say to her, turning my face toward hers on the pillow, “How are you actually doing, Annabel?”
“For real?” she replies, rolling onto her side to face me, “Better, lately. Being out of that hell hole of a high school has helped.”
“No kidding,” I laugh, “That place couldn’t handle you, anyway.”
“It’s more that I was bored stiff by the end,” she tells me, “The whole thing just felt so…irrelevant, after Dad…”
“Yeah,” I say softly, “I don’t know how I would have faked giving a shit about prom and college applications and whatever after losing him.”
“You’re lucky,” she says, “You got to go off and study something you actually cared about. Imagine trying to sit through abstinence-only sex ed while your entire world was being blown apart.”
“Good lord,” I groan, “They’re still doing abstinence only? Are they out of their minds?”
“Just very, very repressed,” she says, rolling her eyes, “How did we get stuck in the only conservative bubble in Vermont, I ask you?”
“Just lucky I guess,” I smile ruefully. “But you’re free now, right?”
“Right. And since Mom’s been away playing Backwoods Barbie, I’ve had the farmhouse to myself, too.”
A twinge of jealousy runs through me at this. The Porter family home is built on a sprawling piece of farmland in rural Vermont. Mom and Dad found the place just after he got his first teaching job at a university nearby, and spent the next twenty years building it into their dream home. Mom had plenty of space to paint and sculpt, and the three of us girls had full reign of the fields and woods all around. It really was something of a dream…before.
“I’m really glad you decided to come out here, Soph,” Anna goes on, a rare hint of softness coming into her voice.
“Me too,” I tell her, “Even taking Mom’s little surprise into account. I really needed to get off campus for a second, myself.”
“How come?” she asks.
“Oh, just some boring boy trouble…” I tell her vaguely.
“Go on…” she presses, pulling herself onto an elbow.
“Well,” I sigh, doing the same, “I may have gone and gotten myself a little crush on one of my teaching assistants…”
“Yeah, that sounds like you,” she observes.
“And I may have made out with him in the bathroom of a bar on the last night of classes,” I go on.
“Uh huh. Still follows,” she nods.
“And I may be having a little trouble thinking about anything but how much I want to jump his bones,” I finish in a rush, rolling miserably onto my back.
“Damn,” Anna whistles, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you hung up on a guy like this.”
“That’s because he’s not just any guy,” I confide in her, “Seriously, Anna. This dude is perfect. He’s smart, and gorgeous, and he stands up for the right thing no matter what. And you should see the size of his—”
“OK, OK, I get the picture. He’s perfect,” she cuts me off, “But if you’re so nuts about him, what’s the problem? I’ve never known you to hold back on going after whatever guy struck your fancy.”
“It’s different with him,” I tell her, “I’m used to guys falling all over themselves for a chance to get in my pants. I’ve never had to work at snagging one before. But his guy? He’s…harder to get a read on, I guess.”
“Maybe now you’ll know what it feels like to be a mere mortal, where men are concerned,” Anna teases me, “Now that your sex goddess jig is up.”
“You should talk,” I shoot back, “Have you seen yourself lately? When the hell did you get drop dead gorgeous?”
“Changing the subject, are we?” she grins, “Fine. But if you need to unburden your aching heart…Make sure to find another sounding board. I can’t stand that mushy shit.”
“There’s the Anna I know and tolerate,” I laugh, giving her a shove off the bed.
“At your service,” she smiles, springing up on her mile-long legs and heading for the door, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, this welcome wagon has reached the end of its line.”
Energized, I spring across the room and dig my cellphone out of my backpack. No new messages, but I won’t let that deter me this time. I sit down on the bedroom floor and open my email, pulling up a new message window and keying in Luke’s address. Here goes nothing.
Hey Luke,
Sophie here. Just wanted to see how you were doing, after everything that happened at The Bear Trap. Sorry for not getting in touch sooner, I guess I was a little embarrassed about how I left things with you. Anyway, I’ll be back on campus in a couple of weeks for summer classes. If you’ll be in the area and want to hang out, just let me know. I’d love to pick things up where we left off.
Cheers,
Sophie Porter
“That’ll do for now,” I mutter, setting the phone on my bedside table, “The ball’s in your court, Professor Hawthorne.”
I set off to explore the property on my own, since Anna’s nowhere to be found. Maybe a nice hike in the woods will distract me from the longing ache twisting my core at the very thought of my illusive, almost-lover.
Maybe.
Chapter Five
I don’t see much of my housemates for the rest of the night. Anna keeps herself busy, wandering around the expansive property with her camera, and Mom and John sit on the verandah together, drinking and talking in hushed tones. Not that I mind a little me-time after a long day of travel. The peace and quiet will give me some time to settle into my new digs.
Returning to my bedroom just after ten, I decide to indulge in a late-night yoga session to sooth my weary muscles. I go to fetch my travel mat from the depths of my backpack, and absentmindedly glance at my phone en route. There’s a message waiting for me. It’s probably from Maddie, who’s put off joining us until tomorrow, most likely out of self-preservation. Of all us sisters, Maddie clashes with Mom the most violently. I unlock my phone and glance down at the text, but it isn’t from my sister at all. It’s from a number I’ve never seen before.
Hey. How’s it going?
Before I can ask who’s on the other side of the text, a follow up message appears on my screen.
It’s Luke, btw. Your cell number’s part of your email signature. Hope it’s cool I texted.
My heart flies into my throat as I stare down at those wonderful words. It’s only been a week since I’ve heard from Luke, but my body responds like a long lost love has just come back to me after ten years at sea. With trembling fingers, I tap out a reply.
Me: Hey Luke. Ofc it’s cool—I’m glad to hear from you. All well?
Luke: Yeah, can’t complain. Enjoying some time off. You?
Me: Same, kind of. Off on a good ol’ family vacation. (Kill me.)
Luke: Hahaha, I know that game. Hang in there. It’ll be over soon. You’ll be back at Sheridan before long, right?
Me: Yep. In a couple of weeks.
Luke: That’s good. I’ll be working on campus all summer myself. And I miss seeing you.
I grant myself a moment of happy-dancing around my new bedroom. Holy crap—Luke Hawthorne misses me? Composing myself as best I can, I text him back.
Me: Even after my less-than-graceful exit from The Bear Trap the other night?
Luke: Hey, it was a crazy night. I don’t blame you for getting freaked out. I just hope our little “private moment” wasn’t what spooked you.
Me: Not at all. It was mostly the deranged skinhead. I rather enjoyed getting a private moment with you, tbh.
Luke: That makes two of us, then. I wouldn’t mind picking things up where we left off when you get back, either.
There he goes, quoting my own emails back to me again. Not that I mind, given the sentiment.
Me: Is that so?
Luke: Oh, it is. I haven’t stopped thinking about the other night. How good it felt to finally get my hands on you.
I have to sit down on my bed as a huge pang of lust shoots through me. That spot between my legs starts pulsing with want, just remembering what it was like to give myself over to Luke. I lay back on the narrow bed and reply…
Me: That’s good to know… Because I can’t stop thinking about you, either. Especially what you could have done with those hands if we hadn’t been interrupted.
Luke: Yeah? You wanted me to keep touching you?
Me: I did. I really did.
Luke: I wanted even more than that, if I’m being honest.
Me: Tell me.
Luke: Sure you can handle it?
Me: I’m sure.
Luke: All right. Honestly, I wanted to push you up against that door and fuck you until you screamed.
A gasp escapes my lips as I read Luke’s text. This was not what I was expecting from our little correspondence, but hey—I’ll take it.
Me: That would have been so hot…
Luke: Does it get you hot, thinking about me driving my cock up inside of you?
Me: God yes. I might have to take care of myself right now just picturing it.
Luke: Oh man. I love the thought of you touching yourself while you text me…
In that case, I think with a smile, double checking to make sure I locked my bedroom door. Slowly, I let my knees fall open, trailing my fingertips along my taut stomach and under the elastic waist of my cotton shorts. I’m not surprised to find that I’m already wet just thinking about Luke Hawthorne taking me hard and fast from behind. I trace my fingers along the length of my slit, revving myself up as my imagination runs wild. A new text from Luke appears on my phone:
Luke: Are you touching yourself right now?
It takes me a minute in my distracted state, but I manage to respond:
Me: Yes…
Luke: Keep going. Imagine me grabbing you by the hair as I pound into you, pulling just hard enough for you to really feel it.
Me: That’s what I want. I want you to be a little rough with me.
Luke: Then think about my fingers digging into your hips as I bear down on you. Imagine my cock splitting you open, hitting you so hard and deep that you almost can’t stand it.
My mouth falls open as I bring my fingers up to my throbbing clit. I trace quick, deliciously firm circles over that aching button as I picture Luke poised above me, his perfect body straining with devastating lust.
Luke: Now think of us alone in that lecture hall again. Imagine me flipping you over and laying you out across the desk, totally naked. Think of me bringing my mouth to your pussy, and rolling my tongue over your clit…
I let the phone drop from my hand as warm sensation mounts in the pit of my belly, threatening to spill over. Though my knees begin to quiver, I press on, sending myself hurtling over the edge. A sweeping orgasm rolls through my body. I come hard thinking of Luke’s mouth against my sex, and have to bite my lip to keep from moaning so loud the whole house will hear me. Falling back against the bed, I stare up at the ceiling, amazed at what Luke can do to me through texts alone.
My cell chirps beside me, and I pick up in a daze.
Luke: That did the trick, huh?
Me: And then some.
Luke: Glad to be of service.
Me: Hold on though…
Luke: What?
Me: You never let me get into what I’d do to you…
Luke: By all means, share with the class.
I roll onto my stomach, grinning as I let my dirtiest fantasies fly. The hours wear on as Luke and I text well into the night, each of us gunning to get the other off as many times as we can. By the time I finally pass out, my entire body is spent an
d satisfied. I didn’t realize how much tension my body had stored up since the last time I saw Luke. But until I get to see him again in the flesh, I’m more than amenable to this particular form of stress relief.
***
The next morning, I wake up feeling like a brand new woman. I all but spring out of bed, make myself a delicious cup of strong coffee, and take it out to the dock just as the sun is rising. I bask in the light of the breaking day, feeling happier than I have in months. Years? And all because I have something to look forward to again, once I arrive back at school. Nothing can crush my good mood today.
After a nice long shower and lunch with Annabel, I decide to make good on that yoga session I had planned for last night. Not that I mind it being derailed for a steamy sexting session with the hottest man I’ve ever met, of course. I have to say, I was blown away by the intensity of Luke’s plans for me. The way he laid out exactly how he’d work me over. There was a raw, ferocious need in those images he rolled out. I’ve never been with a guy who wasn’t afraid to get a little dirty. These two weeks are going to be the longest of my life.
It’s late afternoon by the time I begin my yoga practice on the verandah. In the calm quiet of the woods, I lose myself in my breathing, letting my mind go blissfully blank. The minutes fly by as I move through my favorite sequences of stretches, luxuriating in the poses. So wrapped up am I in my practice, that I don’t even notice that someone’s approaching until they let out a little shriek of surprise as spotting my twisted limbs on the deck.