Page 20 of Step Brother Bear

Her attention only lasts a second, but I don’t let my mask slip from my face. I tighten my legs together, but Derek slaps my thigh. I nearly shriek at the sound. Thankfully no one noticed. I'm still trying to work out how to get out of his game, but Derek doesn’t waste a second, drawing invisible lines on my skin, moving closer to where I want him most. I get lost in his touch, my attention siphoned to each moving point. It takes everything in me not to let the breathy moan at the back of my throat escape or to let my eyelids droop.

He reaches the lace of my underwear snapping the fabric against my skin and I jolt, jumping to my feet. Everyone flashes their attention to me. “I have to go to the bathroom,” I say, almost a shout.

Mom gives me a death stare under her smoky eyeshadow that she replicated on my own face. My cheeks heat as I race away from the table, run up the stairs and throw myself into the bathroom, catching my breath on the back of the door. Even with the distance, the fire at the base of my spine doesn’t extinguish. Heated images of my stupid stepbrother swim through my skull and it seems there’s only one way to make it all stop.

There’s no time to think. The longer I stay in here the more suspicious everyone will be. They probably won’t even notice I’m gone, but I can’t risk it. I prop one foot on the toilet and bunch my panties to the side, shuddering once my fingers meet the flooding wetness between my legs. This shouldn’t last long, I’m already so close just from Derek’s teasing touch. I swipe myself gently. I don’t need to move any faster to get to my edge. My eyes fall closed and a moan escapes my throat. I’m lost in the pleasure. The outside of this bathroom doesn’t exist, only nerve endings, only the stupid image of Derek.

The door swings open and I scream. My leg slips off the toilet lid. Derek stands in the entryway, watching me with hungry eyes as he twirls the little bathroom key kept above the door frame in between his fingers.

He eyes me up and down. “Need some help, sis?”

Chapter 10

“Get the fuck out!” I whisper, my cheeks hotter by the minute.

He shuts the door behind him. “Shh! They’ll hear you.”

“Then get out! What are you doing?”

He removes the distance between us, looming over me with a pleased grin. Why is he so fucking tall? “Just let me take care of it. You’ll feel better.” He runs his hand from my collarbone up to my chin. “God, I wish I could have you gagging on my cock, tears streaming down your cheek to help wash that ridiculous makeup off your face.”

I push his hand away, my back now against the wall. He returns it, squeezing this time, forcing my mouth open. My underwear is bunched up under my skirt, completely soaked, and sitting uncomfortably. I try to protest, to tell him to stop, but the only thing that escapes is a breathy gasp.

He gulps in a big breath of air, as if he’s been waiting for my nonverbal admission. He doesn’t release my jaw, and his other hand grazes my skin near the bottom of my skirt. He brings his face closer, and I close my eyes, waiting for his lips to crash against mine, but they don’t come. When I open my eyes again, he’s staring at me. He continues up the inside of my thigh, moving past the spot he only brushed at the diner table, stopping once he meets my cunt. He doesn’t enter me, only teases, always teasing, “I’ve spent years watching you, studying you. I knew what you were coming up here to do. And even if I didn’t, I could smell you from down the hall.” I can’t look away from him, even as his fingers part me gently, sliding through me with ease. “Your stupid fucking ex-boyfriend is down there kissing our parents' asses, while I’m up here making you come.”

“You’re not making me come,” I say around a moan. I don’t know who I’m fooling. I'm nearly at my edge, and he just started. My eyelids get heavy, and I bite my lip, not wanting to scream as Derek picks up the pace between my legs.

He tightens his grip on my jaw, startling me. “Eyes on me. I want to watch as you fall apart, remember it whenever I see that prick.”

I hate him. Everything that comes out of his mouth boils my blood further, but for some sick reason, it also turns me on. It’s no surprise that there’s a crosswiring in my brain where anger meets pleasure. I’ve known it most of my life. I can’t deny there were nights after fights with Lewis—and let's be honest, Derek—that I felt the particular need to rub one out. This time is no different. Except it is. It’s my fantasy come to life, and I fucking hate it. But not really because Derek barely even circles my clit, and I’m sputtering out of control, staring him in the eye as his hand clamps over my mouth to muffle my screams. “God, it’s like you want him to hear you. Such a slut.” Hair spreads from his head, down his temples, and over his chin. Nails dig into my skin. I keep forgetting that he’s a bear until he’s shifting before my eyes, which only happens while he’s making me come, so in the moment, I don’t care that much about his beastly state. Perhaps it’s because he’s my stepbrother, and the ridiculousness of that fact trumps the hairy truth.

He grins for my entire orgasm, completely fucking giddy. He doesn’t stop until my body is a limp noodle, and he’s my only support to stop me falling to the floor.

He slaps my asscheek. “Better get back out there. Don’t want your hot date to get suspicious.” I push him away, and he holds his hands up in surrender, but before he turns, he brings his hand to his mouth, licking me off his fingers. When he reaches the door, he turns back to face me, sandwiching himself between the door and the frame. “If you need me, I’ll be in my room, taking care of myself.” He winks and disappears, leaving me wide-mouthed and completely frazzled.

Just when I think I have a moment of peace, he opens the door again, keeping his voice low. “And he’s wearing a fucking sweater vest. Are you kidding me, Isabella?”

“Shut up!”

He smiles as he shuts the door again.

Okay. Shit. I examine myself in the mirror, rubbing off the smeared mascara around my eyes, running my fingers through my hair that’s already frizzing and starting to curl. I don’t know how long it's been since I left the dining room. Hopefully, they all just think I’m taking a massive shit and not that I was letting my stepbrother fingerfuck me.

Shit. Where do they think Derek went? I have to believe that he’s not that much of an idiot to make it obvious. He still needs a place. He must, since he hates Darrell and yet chooses to stay here.

I take a deep breath before exiting the bathroom and race down the stairs. Lewis and my parents are still deep in conversation, eyes locked on each other, the plates before them untouched. Oh my God. Are they going to fuck each other? Honestly, it might make me feel less ashamed of my degenerate behaviour if they were even more screwed up.

I clear my throat as I sit down. “Where did Derek go?”

Darrell barely shoots me a glance. “Oh, I didn’t even know he left. You know him.” He waves my questions away. Damn, we could have full-blown fucked, knot and all, and my parents wouldn’t even notice. I can’t help but feel a little disappointed in our rushed time.

My mom tears away her gaze from Lewis. “Oh, honey, did you miss Lewis’ story? He was just telling us about his company Christmas party last year, where his coworker brought a Crockpot of chili and spilt it all over himself.” She wipes away a nonexistent tear.

I give a forced smile. “Yeah, I know. I was there.”

Lewis ignores me and snaps his fingers. “Oh, I have to tell you about this hilarious run-in I had when I was on our business retreat last summer!”

“Oh, please do!” Mom squeals.