BAD LUST: A Stepbrother Romance (A Step Over the Line Book Book 1) Read Free Page B

were alone in the bathroom
again …
    I can ’ t
help myself, okay? Therapists told me I take my anger out on others because I
don ’ t know how to deal with
it. They wanted me to take this pill or that pill. Talk about how I feel, all
that bullshit. The reality was that I lived in a quiet hell with my goddamn
mother that I couldn't shake free. She was goddamn needy and I wasn ’ t giving anything of myself.
    Never again.
    On stage, she ’ s playing her keyboard, singing.
The words are droning on about being alone. Being hurt by all the empty space
around her. On paper, it would probably read like some whiny bitch, but hearing
her voice singing it, it ’ s
pretty good. It ’ s catchy,
it ’ s not whiny, and for a
stuck up, smarty pants rich girl, she ’ s
got a secret talent.
    Well … that and fucking. And sucking cock.
    That first time she slid down my
shaft … if I hadn ’ t been so goddamn drunk, I would
have lost it right then. The damn near virgin of West Wutherford with her lips
sliding down and back on my shaft.
    I reach into my pocket and pull out
a smoke. I light it up, knowing I ’ ll
three drags if I ’ m lucky
before someone bitches about it. After two drags, a woman comes to the table,
obviously a waitress, and asks me to put it out.
    “ Are
you asking or telling? ”
    “ Well … asking. But you need to put it
out. ”
    “ You
have a boyfriend? ” I ask.
    “ Why? ”
    “ I ’ ll put this out if you sit on my
lap. ”
    “ If
you don ’ t put that out, I ’ ll have the bouncers kick you
out. ”
    Normally I ’ d stand and blow smoke in the bitch ’ s face and walk out. But I don ’ t want to miss the rest of the
song.
    I stub the smoke out on the table
and wipe it to the floor. I wave my hand at the cloud of smoke and grin. “ There. Is that better? ”
    “ Asshole, ” the waitress growls.
    “ You ’ re not going to earn a tip with
that attitude. ”
    “ You
didn ’ t order anything. ”
    “ Oh,
fuck. Well, get me a beer, sweetie. ”
    The waitress walks away.
    My eyes are back on stage.
    I know her name but I ’ m afraid to think it. I don ’ t want to get it stuck in my
mind. Bad enough I couldn ’ t
stop thinking of her precious mouth and body. I ’ m
temped to fuck her again. Beyond tempted. I want to fuck destroy her. Leave her
holed up in her princess castle room for days, wishing she could be with me for
the rest of her life.
    I like to leave lasting impressions
on people.
    The waitress brings me a beer and I
hand her a twenty.
    “ I
don ’ t want change, ” I say.
    “ I
wasn ’ t bringing any, ” she says and curls her lip.
    I smile and pucker my lips. “ Thanks, sweetie. Did you spit in
this? ”
    “ Maybe
I did. ”
    “ I
don ’ t like spitters, ” I say. “ We would have never worked. You need to swallow to
earn my respect. ”
    Her eyes go wide and she storms
away. Chances are I won ’ t
get served again.
    No fucking sweat off my back.
    The song ends and nobody in the
fucking place claps.
    What a bunch of fucking dicks.
    I stand up and start to clap. A few
other people join in.
    “ Come
on! ” I yell.
    I can see her cheeks burning from
the distance I ’ m at. She
blushed the entire time we fucked. Her mouth full of my dick. My hands kneading
at her ass, pulling her hard to my thrusts. My fingertips teasing her tight
little ass hole, wanting in.
    And she looks the same right now.
    I whistle and stop clapping.
    I grab another smoke and put it
between my lips.
    I turn and walk toward the front of
the shithole place.
    My phone vibrates and I dig into my
pocket for it.
    I look over my shoulder and she ’ s still staring at me. She
really thinks I don ’ t
remember her. All part of my reputation, I guess. Fuck ‘ em. Leave ‘ em.
Forget ‘ em. So if I fuck ‘ em again, it ’ s all new to me.
    She waves at me.
    What the fuck, sweetie?
    I look at the screen on my phone
and it ’ s a picture from my
damn mother. Along with a text. I curl my lip and