Shame: A Stepbrother Romance Read Free

tiptoe over the cold tiles of the bathroom floor to turn on the hot water.
    While I wait for the steam to fill the small space, I inspect myself in the closet’s full-length mirror. My hair, tied up in a messy knot, is darker than its usual bright ginger in this light. Sometimes it gets a vibrant coppery color in the shade, but out in the sun, it’s plain carrot. I’ve got more than a sprinkling of freckles across my button nose and my skin is so pale, I can never get away with blushing. My dark green eyes look even larger and rounder behind the thick lenses of my glasses. I think they are my best feature if it wasn’t for my funny red eyelashes that I need to religiously cover with mascara every day.
    I take off my glasses and the image in front of me immediately blurs.
    As I come out of the bathroom, water dripping down from my hair and seeping into the thick towel I’ve wrapped myself in, I hear a key turn into the lock of my front door. It’s so quiet that the sound almost makes me jump. Then I sigh, annoyed. There’s only one person who has a key to my apartment and she’s also the last person I feel like talking to tonight. My mother.
    I don’t have time and I really don’t want her to see me slip into the mini denim dress that I bought earlier, but still I smile when she enters the room. She looks impeccable, as always. I don’t know how she has the patience to invest so much time in her appearance, not that she has much else to do during the day. She doesn’t work. She’s actually never had to. Her main specialty is getting married to the right guys and that’s lucrative enough for her to never need to lift a finger.
    “Hi, honey,” she says in her low, seductive voice as if she is speaking to a lover. I tighten the towel and tuck its end between my breasts before I go to give her the customary kisses, one on each cheek.
    “Mom, I wasn’t expecting you,” I say in a rush, “I really don’t have time to chat. I’m late as it is.”
    “Oh, is it a special date?”
    I roll my eyes. She’s been bugging me to get a boyfriend for ages. She says nothing would make her happier. I swear she is trying to pimp me out every chance she gets, only I doubt she realizes what she has to work with here. We can’t be more different. Well, apart from the hair color, but even that seems glamorous on her and mousy on me.
    “No, mom, it’s Ashleigh’s party tonight,” I say while slathering cocoa butter on my freshly shaved legs, “I’ve told you a million times.”
    “Sorry, honey. I’ve got too many things on my mind.”
    “Do you need anything?” I try to cut her short. She tends to get dramatic and overly expressive sometimes. I think it’s a case of having no actual problems, so she makes a big deal out of the tiniest things. “I’m seriously in a hurry.”
    “I’ll only be a minute,” she says and plops on my bed, kicking off her pumps, then adds with a sudden smile as if she’s come up with something genius, “I can give you a ride if you want. I’m with Sergio.”
    Sergio is her driver. One of the many perks of her latest marriage. Husband number three is a better catch than the previous two combined. He is filthy rich and looks fantastic at sixty.
    So, it seems settled. I’m not getting rid of her. I need to listen to her go on about a suspicious maid or a fundraiser that didn’t go as well as she’d expected or her hair stylist moving cross country. I try to keep myself as far as I can from her world and I still feel guilty for accepting the seed money for my bookshop from Joe, her husband, my new step-dad. I’m doing my best though and with the business plan I have in place, I know I’ll be able to give it all back in a few years.
    I slip into the bathroom to pull on the bright turquoise satin panties, trimmed with black lace, which are the result of my underwear shopping today. They come with a matching bra and are just about the sexiest piece of underwear I’ve ever