Billionaire Stepbrother - Secret Lives Read Free Page B

combination of alcohol and disappointment, she threw the flowers onto the card table that sat in the corner of her dining room. It didn't even embarrass her anymore that it was her poor excuse for a dining room table. She was used to the feeling that her apartment had to be the smallest in all of Detroit. It was home, and despite its size it always felt that way. Detroit was where she’d grown up and gone to school until the age of sixteen when her stepfather moved them all to Boston for a job. She had always known in her heart that she would come back, and on her nineteenth birthday she did. And she hadn’t looked back since, other than to miss her family and the few friends she made in the three years she was there.
     
    She dragged her feet to the bathroom and maneuvered herself between the toilet and tub so she could turn on the water. She turned the knobs, ignoring the awful squeak they made in protest, until they reached the desired temperature. Then she poured in a little bubble bath and bath salt, hoping it would help her to relax and think of a plan to get a job and get Winslow off her back.
     
    As she pealed her clothes off, letting them fall to the ground, she caught her image in the mirror. For some reason she still saw herself through Winslow’s eyes, the way he looked at her and touched her. All the things he told her and promises he made her. The moment she realized he’d been doing all those things with someone else as well, she’d felt disgusted and dirty, like she needed to scrub herself raw. His hands had been on two bodies, traced the curves of two women. It made her feel sick and sad to think he was sharing those strong, dark hands with another woman.
     
    She hated to admit that as much as she despised him, her body still ached for him sometimes. It was a comfort she had at night for many years, spending time in his king size bed in his huge house far away from the downtown noise and lights. It made her wonder if she had really loved him or just the way he made her feel.
     
    But something else was there on the surface as she stepped into the warm bubble filled bath. A face the total opposite of Winslow’s came into her mind. It was Diesel. She wondered what those calluses would feel like all over her skin. How different they would feel compared to the soft and manicured hands of Winslow.
     
    It was silly because she knew she’d never see him again, but that’s what made her feel safe thinking about him. She could fantasize about something that would never come to fruition. It couldn’t hurt her that way.
     
    She hadn’t been touched in a few months. The last of her relationship with Winslow had been devoid of any sexual attention, or romance for that matter. They had both been so busy with work, and she had felt sorry for him; her hard working man. But, of course, now she knew the real reason he was always busy.
     
    She let her fingers drop down between the warm cleft between her legs, imagining that they were the rough fingers of Diesel. Rough enough to stimulate her, but still gentle and tender as he explored her innermost places. A smile curled her lips up as her breathing quickened. She wondered what his chest looked like beneath his motorcycle club top, or what hid beneath those baggy jeans. She wondered whether he was as well built below the waist as he was above.
     
    It only took a few minutes for her thoughts to bring her to the shuddering release that she craved, finally calming the thoughts in her head, but at the same time ensuring that her dreams would be filled with images of flesh and chrome.
     
    * * *
     
    Diesel took a hit off the joint he’d been passed, letting a calm wash over him. He’d had a long day, and sometimes it was the best way to relax. Although, every day was pretty long one for him. He had never needed much sleep, which is why he could lead the life he was living, but the stress got to him sometimes just like everyone else. But he couldn’t let his club