Stepbrother WHOA! (The Stepbrother Romance Series #5) by Claire Adams Page A

just couldn’t cut it with the avoiding each other, give each other space,
and just be brother and sister thing , but I couldn’t begin to think of how
we could do anything else.
    Instead, we lay around in his bed and talked about
everything else under the sun; I told him about my mom, about losing Dad,
getting into sports. I told him about losing my virginity, about the parties
I’d gone to in high school, the fact that Mom had taught me how to take a
tequila shot at the age of eight as the result of already being drunk from too
many tequila shots of her own.
    Jaxon told me about joining the frat, about his
Mom—and how they’d ended up without her. He told me about the friction between
him and Bob. “What did Dad say about me after I left?” He asked me, his brow
crinkled with concern. I hesitated; some of the things Bob had said were vile.
But I told him about it, and Jaxon nodded slowly, looking unsurprised. “You
know I’m not that guy anymore, right?” Jaxon’s bright eyes stared down into
mine and I smiled.
    “Well, if you were, I wouldn’t have any problem not
having anything to do with you,” I told him. “It’d be dead easy because you’d
be a jerk and a loser.” Jaxon frowned; not angrily, but with the same defeated
look in his eyes he’d had when Bob was shouting in the middle of the lodge
about what a useless teenager he’d been. “Look,” I said, turning to face him in
the bed. “None of us are the same way we were in high school. You were going
through a lot of shit, and you acted the way you did because you were a dumb
kid. We were all dumb kids back then. It doesn’t bother me—because you wouldn’t
be the great guy you are now if you hadn’t done that stuff back then.” Jaxon
held my gaze for a long moment before nodding.
    “I’m so glad you understand,” Jaxon told me with a
smile. “I probably shouldn’t admit it, but every single time Dad brings that
shit up I just feel…like it’s still happening, like I’m still that person.” He
shook his head.
    For a moment, I considered bringing up the fact that
Bob’s tirade had made me feel really—really uncomfortable. I remembered all the
things that Jaxon and Bob had shouted at each other, the pure rage and
bitterness in their voices, the way they seemed to absolutely hate each other.
I thought about telling Jaxon how scared it had made me to see them ripping
each other apart that way—especially to see Bob treating Jaxon so horribly. It
was on the tip of my tongue; and then, looking at Jaxon, I realized that it
would be the worst possible thing to do.
    It was obviously too sensitive a subject. It was too
personal. I changed the subject, asking about Jaxon’s experience snowboarding.
He was so much better than me—I had to know how he’d gotten to be that way. We
joked and chatted, taking advantage of the quiet of the frat house.
    We spent the entire morning in bed together,
cuddling, talking, touching each other; Jaxon pulled my body close to his,
slipping his hand down between my legs while we continued to murmur to each
other. He stroked and rubbed my clit, sending jolts of pleasure through my
body. I reached behind me as Jaxon turned me on more and more. I wrapped my
hand around his cock, stroking him slowly as he rubbed me. Without even
discussing it, it seemed like we had decided amongst ourselves to not touch on
the subject of our status as brother and sister.
    Jaxon got me off over and over again; it seemed like
now that we had gotten started, it was impossible for us to stop. He buried his
face between my legs, devouring me again and again, licking and sucking my clit
while I got hotter and hotter and wetter and wetter. He held me tightly against
him and stroked and rubbed me while I squirmed and writhed. He kissed me
everywhere, caressing me, teasing me, rolling my
nipples between his fingers.
    I returned the favor all morning, stroking and
rubbing him, wrapping my mouth around him to suck and lick him. I