Chapter 4

What the hell had I been thinking?

I hadn't been thinking, though, and wasn't that the problem here? It was Saturday, the day after the wedding, and I'd already moved back to my apartment from Mom's home. I didn't have to be back to work yet, not until Monday. I didn't have anything else to do, so I could only stay at my apartment and stew.

The events from last night wouldn't stop running through my mind. I hadn't consumed enough alcohol to get drunk, so my thoughts were pretty clear, and it was torture.

I shouldn't have been drinking last night. Not in such proximity to Stephen, knowing how he made me feel. I should have been paying attention, too, and tried better to avoid him the moment I realized I wanted him, from the first time I met him. Right then, I should have kept a polite distance between us. It wasn't an impossible thing to do, even though we were now related. We were also still strangers. I'd only known him for a few days, and he'd turned my world upside down.

It was my own mistake that let it happen.

After spending some time to put my things away, so that I could have something to distract me, I went to the kitchen to prepare food. Instead of cooking anything, though, I ended up with some cereal and milk. It was lunch, but I didn't feel hungry at all.

How am I supposed to get over this?

I was the one to walk out and say last night could never happen again, but could I ever forget? From experience I knew I would never forget. I would have never thought myself capable of sleeping with a man that was my stepbrother, but I had and it wouldn't be easy to get over. If I could have some time away from Stephen, I was sure I could make myself get past it. But I had to go back to work on Monday, and that is when he'd be starting his first day as a doctor at the clinic.

After more than twenty minutes of poking at my bowl and not actually eating, I forced myself to choke down the soggy cereal, washed the dishes, and went to my room. I fell onto my bed and buried my face in my pillow. I wasn't tired enough to sleep, and I couldn't say I wouldn't dream about it again like I had last night when I went to bed. I woke up burning with desire in the middle of the night and got myself off again.

It had been far more than erotic. If it were just that, I would have forgotten it. But like his outward appearance, Stephen was far from being a disappointment in bed. It was the exact opposite. I'd felt like he'd touched my very soul, somehow. While commanding, he was also gentle, and he could be rough at the right moments. He was all the things I'd always wanted a bed partner to be. There were times when I met a guy, and I didn't look back after the first night, sometimes nothing even happened, just because the foreplay was a little boring.

Stephen had taken me twice last night, and I had begged him to. He was caring, kind, and he made sure I was wrung out by the time it was all done.

I couldn't get him out of my mind, though I really tried. There didn't seem to be any rewards for my efforts, though, because I woke up sobbing in the middle of the night, on the edge of coming. A single touch was enough to have me crying out and shuddering, and it was a while before I could go back to sleep afterward.

Sunday went pretty much how Saturday did, but if getting him off my mind on my own wasn't going to work, then I was going to look for help.

I got dressed and left my apartment late in the evening, heading to a bar I frequented often. I didn't always go to the same place. After I found a guy at any one place, I stopped going there for a while after I was done with the guy to avoid any awkward run-ins. Of course, they still happened sometimes, but the area I lived in didn't have a shortage of bars and clubs.

The idea was to find a man that would replace the memories he had left in me, that would take over the things he made me feel, so I could go back to being myself

I knew it was useless the moment I entered the bar, though. Still, I sat around for a while. As time passed, more people showed up, but I didn't see anyone that caught my interest. After having only a single glass of beer in nearly two hours, I went back home.

The bar was close enough to my apartment that I walked the whole way back, filled with dejection. I didn't always meet someone on the first try. I would have to go for a few more visits, or I was just careless, but I'd really wanted to pick someone up tonight so that I could be normal tomorrow.

Stephen Smith, why can't I stop thinking about you?

As if to play a trick on me, just as I'd arrived home and closed my door, there was a knock.

"Julia? It's me, Stephen. Could you please let me in?"

I had only taken a few steps away from my door. I hadn't even kicked my heels off yet or slid off my coat. Had he come up right behind me, and had I not seen him? Or maybe he was waiting for me... I shook off the warm feelings such thoughts inspired in me.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, voice thick with suspicion.

I wanted to ask how he even knew where I lived, but I didn't doubt Mom would have told him if he'd asked. As far as she cared, we were family now, so we needed to get along. I knew, if my place weren't so tiny and meant only for one person, she would have asked me to house Stephen while he looked for a place to live instead of him staying at the hotel.

"I came because I wanted to see you," Stephen said, his tone earnest. "Please let me in?"

My heart skipped a beat. At least, it felt like it did. I hesitated for the longest time, but in the end, went back and opened the door. Stephen smiled as soon as I opened the door.

"You look like you just came out from somewhere."

I arched an eyebrow. "What, are you stalking me?"

He chuckled. "Nothing that extreme, no. I came by a while ago. I waited but no one answered, and as I was leaving, I saw you come in."

"And you followed me?"

Couldn't you have gone the other way and left me alone? You're clearly my problem right now.

"You had this totally dejected look on your face, and I thought I should leave you alone, but came up here to comfort you instead."

Comfort. I knew he'd guessed what I was out for. It wasn't hard to figure out, considering how I was dressed, in high heels and a short dress. With his eyebrows arched and his lips tilted in a barely there smile, he was clearly provoking me.

It was wrong. I knew it was, but I didn't care.

I stepped away from the door. Stephen smirked, taking it for the invitation that it was, and walked into my apartment, closing the door behind him.

He didn't waste any time in wrapping his arms around my waist, dragging my body against his and ducking his head down to take my mouth. I gasped, grabbing onto his shoulders as I wrapped a leg around his thighs and rocked against him. Just like that, he had me ready to go. If he fucked me against the wall, I wouldn't mind; I would invite it.

Stephen, of course, had to ruin it all by being such a fucking gentleman.

"Bed," he growled in between kisses, even as he grabbed my ass cheek, slid a thigh in between mine, and rocked me against his leg. "If we're doing this, it's on the bed."

I groaned. I didn't want to. If I took him to my bed, could I still sleep in it without thinking about him? He was probably serious, though, and I couldn't wait. My panties were drenched, the wetness slowly getting onto his slacks. With every movement of my hips against his thigh, he would rub against my clit. I was gasping for breath in between every kiss, hovering right at the edge. I could come, just like this, but I really, really wanted him inside of me, too.

"Fine," I said. "Bed. But you have to let me go first."

He let out another growl, gave me one last, ferocious kiss, and slowly pulled away, but not completely. Instead, he attacked my neck with his mouth. His hand cupped my breast, squeezing and rubbing through the dress and bra.

We stumbled. He wouldn't release, and I didn't want to let go of him, either. Along the way, we started ripping at each other's clothes, Stephen pushing off my coat, and me tugging on the buttons of his shirt. By the time we made it to the bedroom, my dress was falling off one shoulder, and his shirt was only partly unbuttoned but shoved off his shoulders.

Seeing the bed, Stephen gave a grin of triumph, before suddenly picking me up, making me yelp. He mouthed at my chest, nudging my dress further aside to press kisses between my breasts. My limbs were tight around him, and he was careful as he lowered us both onto the bed, even as he didn't stop his ministrations. He caught the edge of my bra between his teeth and tugged it until he could get to my nipple, showering it with attention. He bit and licked and sucked, and I writhed beneath him, gasps and moans of pleasure leaving my throat.

"Don't tease," I gasped. "Fuck me already!"

I was already so close.

Stephen chuckled, but it sounded strained. He pulled back and ripped off his shirt, then started working at his fly. Watching him strip, I finished taking off my own clothes as well. I kicked my heels off, though it was a struggle since he was kneeling between my thighs, and he didn't move to get out of the way. Once we were both naked, we fell on each other.

It was like the last time, but better. Then, it was our first time together, and it hadn't lasted long. Stephen didn't know all my sweet spots, but somehow, within that short interlude, he'd learned.

With every touch, it felt like I would burn, or at the very least, shake apart in his arms. He played with my breasts with one hand and his mouth, alternating between nipples, tugging on them, pinching and sucking. I arched my back, pushing my breasts against him, seeking more attention that he was more than happy to give.

His other hand slid between my thighs, palming my sex, grinding the heel of his palm against my clit as his fingers rubbed against my entrance. I groaned and rolled my hips, wanting him inside whatever way I could get him, and finally, he slid two fingers inside of me, making my body shiver. But they'd just barely slipped inside before he was pulling them out again.

"Stephen, please," I moaned, and it sounded like a sob.

He pulled away from my breasts and looked up at me, rising up to take my mouth in a kiss, slower, softer. He nipped my lower lip, then stopped. When my eyes fluttered open, it was to find him staring at me with intent.

With the shift, I felt the head of him at my entrance, and I went still. Not that I wasn't frozen already from his gaze. With his jaw taut, he pushed his hips slowly forward, penetrating me, sliding inside of me.

Too slow.

I let out a low whine as I lay panting beneath him, but I still didn't move. He continued until his cock was seated deep inside of me. I thought he was going to keep teasing, until I begged, just like the last time. He surprised me, though, pulling his hips back before slamming forward, fast and hard. I cried out, my body jerking with a shudder. My nails dug into the skin of his back, but if it hurt, he didn't let it show. He pulled his hips back before slamming forward again, starting a hard and fast rhythm that nearly had me sobbing.

With all my four limbs, I clung to him. He took my mouth in a kiss, muffling my pleasured moans as he fucked me, fast and hard, just like I wanted it. One hand still cupped my breast, squeezing with the rhythm of his thrusts. His other arm was wrapped low around my waist, arching my hips against his. He ground our hips together, going even deeper than before.

I never cried during sex. I used to believe that the only reason someone would cry during sex was that it was painful, or they didn't want it. But with the overwhelming pleasure rocking through my body, tears spilled from my eyes and slid down my cheeks. My breath shuddered out of me, desperate, and I clung to him harder.

When I came, it caught me by surprise. I came harder than I ever had before, even harder than Friday night, until I thought I'd black out. Stephen let out a groan, his body going taut above mine. My walls clung to his cock, and with a few jerking thrusts of his hips, he came inside me.

The two of us were left shuddering in each other's arms. My limbs felt so weak, both arms and legs trembling. Still, I didn't dare to let go of him.