A Stepbrother for Christmas(3)

By the time we reached the chalet, the sun was already sinking behind the mountain, sending everything into shadow. The chalet was lit up, warm light pouring out of the wide windows. Mom’s Christmas tree glowed through the night, beautiful and overdone at the same time.

“Your mom went all out on the tree.” Niles opened the front door for me and stood back so I could pass. Who is this man?

“Yeah.” I entered the home, the smell of some sort of delicious food, spiced with citrus, hit me in the nose. The uphill walk back to the chalet had made me even hungrier. I stripped off Niles’ coat and handed it back to him. He took it and hung it on the pegs by the front door and held his hand out for my light jacket. I pulled it off along with my scarf and hat.

I caught his stare. He’d tensed as I’d removed the knit warmth piece by piece. He watched me intently now, his eyes hungry. I wanted to look away, to forget I saw that look. But I couldn’t. My heart pounded and my skin felt as if his hands were on it, touching and teasing. His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard and broke eye contact. He hung everything up and turned back to me, his eyes no longer giving anything away. Guarded.

“Anna?” Mom called.

I let out a breath, not even aware I’d been holding it. “Coming.”

I followed her voice through the living area and into the kitchen. Niles followed.

“Oh, there you are. And I see you found Niles.” Mom’s smile faltered.

“Yes. We got a coffee.”

“Together?” Mom flipped a browned fish filet in a pan with an obscene amount of butter. Brent was setting the table in the adjacent dining room.

“Not really.” I spotted an open bottle of red and beelined for it.

“With the fish, Anna?” Mom asked. “I thought we’d have a white.”

I didn’t care what color it was, I just needed alcohol. I poured a glass and took a decidedly unladylike gulp. Mom turned and watched me over her shoulder as she worked on the island cooktop. She raised an eyebrow in question. I shook my head. I couldn’t discuss anything right now, especially not with Niles in the room. She took the hint and returned to dinner.

Niles leaned against the door frame, not exactly relaxed. Handsome, though. Too handsome. I took another drink. Undeniably gorgeous. I drained the glass and poured another.

Brent walked past with a bowl of salad. “Go easy, Anna. We have to have enough wine to get sauced every night for two weeks. I’ll start rationing if necessary.”

I laughed and raised my glass to him. Niles smiled and began helping Brent with the food. Mom bossed me around a bit and we all fell into our roles. I had never been much of a cook, so getting the salad dressing and watching Mom make the risotto was the height of my participation. When it was all done, we sat down and dug in. I was across from Niles and made a point of not looking at him.

“So, Niles, tell us about your rowing team. I heard there was a competition or something that’s a big deal in England?” Mom asked.

Brent laughed and shook his head. “It’s much, much more than just a competition. The Boat Race is, is—” he leaned back in his chair, eyes misting beneath his glasses “—transcendent. My year with the blues, we beat Cambridge by a full thirty seconds. Thirty seconds, can you believe that? Those were the days, I tell you.”

“Blue?” I smiled, my body lighter than it had been all day. “So Oxford team is blue? Is Cambridge red, then?”

“We’re both blue, actually,” Niles said.

I took another drink of wine. Mom was nuts. This red went perfectly well with the fish she’d made. I giggled. “Both blue? What sort of crap? How do you even tell which team is which?”

“Oxford wears a more dignified darker blue, almost navy. Cambridge, tossers with no sense of style, wear some lighter blue. Hideous, really.” Brent took a respectable drink of wine.

Niles nodded in agreement.

“So you won?”

Niles raised his gaze to meet mine. “Yes, my team did.”

“Your team?” I laughed. “I’m shocked anyone would let you on a team with other normal human beings. Were they afraid you’d kill them in their sleep or something if they didn’t?”

The room fell silent and Mom dropped her fork onto her plate with a clink. “Anna! Apologize right this minute.”

“I won’t. You know what I mean, right Niles?”

He closed his eyes and when he opened them I saw pain there, pain I’d inflicted. I thought it would feel good, hurting him the way he’d hurt me so many times. Instead, I just felt sick.

“Annalise—”

“No, it’s okay, Ellen. Really.” Niles wiped his mouth and tossed his napkin down next to his half-finished meal. “I need to turn in. It was a long flight and I’m beat. Thanks for this lovely dinner. Delicious as always. Please excuse me.” He rose and squeezed his dad’s shoulder before leaving.

The room seemed to deflate, as if I’d stuck a pin in it. Mom took what was left of my wine and put it out of my reach.

“Really, Mom?” I rolled my eyes and tamped down my unease. Was she right?

“Yes, really Anna. Why would you say something so awful?”

I fisted my hands next to my plate. “Oh, I’m awful. Have you forgotten about how he treated me?”

“That was years ago, Anna. You’re two different people now, all grown up. It’s obvious he’s changed and so have you.” She neatly folded her napkin and gave me a pointed look. “But I don’t know if all of the changes were for the better.”

I winced at her words. She was my biggest cheerleader. Her words were a shock to my system. Was I being a jerk? I pushed back from the table.

“Anna, it’s okay. Stay—”

“No, Brent. It’s fine. I don’t want to ruin the rest of the dinner. I’m going to bed. I’ll see you two in the morning.” I didn’t look at Mom as I strode out with angry steps. Petty? Maybe.

The second I was out of the room, they began talking in low voices.

I climbed the stairs, tripping once before I made the landing. Niles’ door was closed. I stopped in front of it. Should I apologize? A chant of “assless Anna” ricocheted through my mind from my ninth grade year. No, definitely not apologizing. I went to my room and changed into a t-shirt and panties before going to the bathroom. It was a jack and jill between Niles’ room and mine. His door was closed.

A few of his items were on the counter – razor, toothbrush, and the delicious soap I kept smelling. I stilled and tried to listen for him. Nothing. He must have already been asleep. I brushed my teeth, trying not to think about what I’d said earlier. Once I was done in the bathroom, I slipped into the queen size bed. I was beat from the trip and admittedly a little drunk. Sleep took me quickly.

***

A weight settled on me. My eyes flew open. Red hair, blue eyes. Niles had his hand over my mouth.

“Be quiet, Anna. Let’s not wake our parents.”

Panic rose in my throat, but I didn’t make a sound. He removed his hand and stroked through my hair.

“What are you doing?” I hissed.

He leaned in, his lips so close to mine. “I just wanted to apologize and do it right this time.”

“You call this doing it right?”

He laughed, low and seductive. “I saw the way you looked at me. And I’ve read your diary, remember? I know this is how you want it.”

I drew a hand from under the sheet to slap him but he caught my wrist and pinned it to the bed. My heart pumped double time and my clit began to tingle. He was right. This – what he was doing – was my kryptonite. I’d always had fantasies of being forced. No one had been able to deliver. That’s why all my relationships ended. But the fear mixing with exhilaration in my veins told me that Niles could give it to me.

“So let me make it up to you. Let me be your fantasy.” He bent his head to my neck and nipped at my skin lightly.

I couldn’t tell if I was in a dream or a nightmare. Perhaps a mix of both.

Could I do this? When he fastened his lips to my jugular and sucked, I arched to him. Yes, I could do this. That seemed to be all the answer he needed. He got to his knees and ripped my blankets away. He was shirtless, his tan skin smooth and beautiful in the low light.

Am I insane?

He grabbed my panties, fisting the material in his palm and ripping. I made a surprised sound and he was on top of me again, his hand slapped over my mouth.

“Not a sound,” he rasped in my ear.

He reached down with his other hand and before long, I felt his head at my entrance. I was so wet, from the moment I awoke to find him holding me down, to now. The sensation of his tip pushing into my innermost flesh thrilled me more deeply than I thought possible. He took a fistful of my hair in one hand and kept the other clapped over my mouth.

Even in the darkness of the room, I could see the intense look in his eyes. He was a predator and it was time to take what was his. Holy shit.

‘Scared, little slut?”

I nodded even as my pussy clenched at his dark tone.

“You don’t even know scared.” He pushed inside me, his hips surging forward.

I cried out against his hand at the quick pain and the flood of pleasure. He gave me only a second to adjust before he was pounding into me, fucking me harder than I’d ever been fucked in my life. I loved every stroke, every impact, every exhale of his breath as I moaned against his hand.