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Stepbrother Jerk

Page 14

He snorted, shaking his head, running his hands through his hair as he looked across the room. “Did you do something wrong?” he asked, unbelieving.

“What?” We’d had an intense, crazy, awesome night. I’d never come like I had last night. Christ, I’d never been as wet as I’d been all day yesterday. What had happened in the hours between when we fell asleep and now?

Jace lowered himself to sit on the edge of the bed. “I owe you a huge fucking apology.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I took advantage of you last night and I’m really sorry. I should never have made you do those things—parading you around in front of my friends, then”—he looked off—“fucking you.”

“You regret having had sex with me?”

“Yeah. I do. Shit, it was wrong. I took advantage of you, Lisa. You trusted me to discipline you. It was why you agreed, why you came, and I fucked that right up because I can’t keep my fucking dick in my pants when I look at you. And when I look at you like you were last night, well, I’ll just say it’s worse then.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I’m very sorry. I won’t tell Mom and Dad about the pot, it’s none of my business. What I did to you though—”

“Last night was the best night of my life, Jace.”

He seemed taken aback, unable to speak.

“Hell, it was probably the best day of my life. Well, except for the spanking and the paddling parts, even if they did ultimately get me hot.”

“You don’t have to say that.”

“I know that. Come on, you know me. I never feel like I have to do anything. I do what I want, and this weekend is no exception. Hell, last night, walking around like that, submitting to you, serving your friends, having them watch as I bent over and got paddled? Fuck, I’m hot now thinking about it.”

He watched me, open mouthed, as if trying to process what I was saying.

“When you had me bent over and you knelt behind me… Jace, I’ve never been so aroused in my life. The tail? Stuff of fantasy. No boyfriend I’ve ever had has been able to make me want to submit. None have deserved it. It’s what I’ve been searching for ever since I can remember: a strong man, one worthy of me, of my submission. I want this, Jace. I want the discipline, your discipline, I want your dominance, and I want to give my submission. To you.” I realized something then, and nerves suddenly made me queasy. “I mean, unless… it’s not what you want.” Shit, that night years ago when I’d kissed him and he’d rejected me — the feelings I’d buried, the embarrassment and the shame — it all came flooding back. “Unless you don’t want me.” My voice sounded small. I felt small.

Jace simply watched me, picking up my hand and setting it on his lap, his thumb working circles on my palm.

“You probably think you want to give me your submission because of what happened last night. Endorphins maybe? I don’t know. This can’t be what you want, Lisa. Not with me.”

“Why not? Why can’t it be?”

“I…I don’t know. My dad is married to your mom, for starters. Think how they’d take the news. How other people would take the news.”

“I don’t care what anyone thinks. And I don’t think you do either, Jace. Just tell me the truth. Tell me it’s me. Tell me that, like that night I kissed you under the stars. Tell me it’s me you don’t want. That it was fun for a night, maybe, but that’s it.” I felt the heat of tears building but I refused to cry in front of him. In the face of this, his second rejection of me, I pushed the blankets off and made to stand, but he grabbed hold of my arm and wouldn’t allow me up.

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” he said.

“Let me go.”

“No. Do you really believe that? Do you really believe what you said? That I don’t want you? That I didn’t want you back then?”

“I said let me go!”

He carried on as if I hadn’t said a word at all. “Because if that’s what you think, then I definitely overestimated your intelligence.”

“So now you’re going to make me sit here while you insult my intelligence?”

He smiled. “No. No, Lisa, I’m not. That night you kissed me, do you remember how old we were?”

“I was fifteen.”

“And me. How old was I?”

“Eighteen.”

“About to turn nineteen.”

“So?” I shrugged one shoulder, but I understood.

“Technically, you were jailbait.”

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