The Other Brother Part 2: Taboo: Stepbrother Billionaire Romance Read online

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  THE OTHER BROTHER PART 2: TABOO

  First edition. March 3, 2015.

  Copyright © 2015 Lauren Hawkeye and Tawny Stokes.

  ISBN: 978-1928068266

  Written by Lauren Hawkeye and Tawny Stokes.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  The Other Brother Part 2: Taboo

  Dear Reader,

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  The Other Brother continues in Part 3: Illicit, available March 10 at vendors everywhere!

  About the authors

  Read on for an excerpt from Ivy in Bloom by Tawny Stokes

  Read on for an excerpt from A Bride for a Billionaire, available now from Lauren Hawkeye | MATTEO

  And check out this innovative project from Summer Daniels, owner of What To Read After Fifty Shades of Grey!

  To Kelli Collins, for coining the phrase “doucheknuckle”. And for calling Theo one.

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for continuing with the story of Seth and Allegra! When we left off, Allegra had just been surprised at home by her biological brother Theo… and she’s not sure how she feels about that.

  We hope you enjoy The Other Brother Part 2: Taboo!

  Happy reading!

  Chapter One

  ALLEGRA

  Now, what kind of hello is that for your big brother?

  I move into Theo’s arms, but I’m strangely reluctant to do so. I tell myself it’s because he just scared the crap out of me. But when he hugs me tight, and it takes everything I have not to squirm away, I know that’s not it.

  I’ve hugged Theo a million times before, but somehow this feels nothing like it did when we were kids. It’s like hugging a stranger. He smells like dirt and sweat, the kind of body odor that takes weeks to accumulate. I know that the grimy metallic odor comes from being in jail, and that that in itself isn’t his fault, but I still can’t quite stop my gag reflex, though I try to hide it. When he narrows his eyes at me, I know I haven’t been successful.

  “What’s the matter? Don’t you love your big brother anymore?” He smirks at me, but as I look up into his blue eyes I see… a challenge?

  “Of course I love you.” I laugh nervously. It has to be because he startled me. There’s no other reason to be on edge around my brother.

  There’s no denying that he’s different, though. I’d expected it, and yet—I don’t like it. I just want him to wash away the rough edges and be the brother I know again.

  But I of all people know that sometimes you just can’t go back.

  “Why don’t you go take a shower and settle in? Then we’ll catch up.” I’m desperate for a minute alone.

  He eyes me for a moment, and I can feel my nerves skittering through my veins—he’s sizing me up, as if he’s trying to figure out whether or not I’ve insulted him. I’m not sure I’ll like the outcome if he decides on the former. But finally he nods, running a hand through his long greasy hair.

  I feel like the biggest bitch in the world, but that hair—it makes me shudder. Theo, though—he’s vain. Once he would rather have died than be seen looking the way he does, even by family.

  Seeing Seth has turned me all inside out. I just want something familiar, something normal.

  I want my brother back the way he was, before any of this shit happened.

  “Where’s Dad?” I’m incredibly uncomfortable and in need of a buffer. Theo is silent, and I adjust my robe, tying it tighter; the worn terrycloth does nothing to hide me.

  I feel very vulnerable and exposed, and not in a sexy way, like I did back at the club. This kind of exposure… it makes my skin crawl.

  “Right here.” Dad steps into the hallway and relief crashes over me. “I had to grab some stuff from the car.”

  “Dad.” Guilt quickly follows the relief. What the hell is wrong with me, being scared of my own damn brother? I know we haven’t gotten along well in recent years, but still… he’s blood.

  He’d never hurt me. He’s not like Seth—though even after all these years, I somehow know that Seth wouldn’t hurt me either. Not physically.

  Why am I even comparing them? I’ve never thought of Seth as my brother.

  “There are fresh towels in the bathroom, and shampoo and soap in the shower.” Dad hands Theo a small duffle bag that’s so new the tags are still hanging off of it. “Allegra, I didn’t get a chance to make up Theo’s room. Maybe you can put some sheets on the bed while Theo showers.”

  I notice that Theo doesn’t give Dad the stink eye at the suggestion that he bathe, which makes me purse my lips. I watch as he ascends the stairs, only letting out a long, shuddering breath once he’s disappeared from sight.

  “You okay, kiddo?” Dad rakes a hand through his hair, and in that moment, I notice the lines on his face that have deepened over the last few years. I wince inwardly, knowing that a lot of them are my fault.

  “Of course I am.” I smile brightly at him—I refuse to be any more of a burden on this man.

  “Don’t lie. You’re spooked.” He pins me with eyes that look so much like Theo’s. Physically, they’re almost clones, those two, although skin deep is as far as though similarities go. “What’s wrong?”

  “I—I didn’t know when Theo was coming home today, that’s all. I didn’t expect to run into him in the hallway.” I chuckle, but there’s no humor in it. “He startled me.”

  “Didn’t expect him this early, either.” Dad looks a bit troubled, and I don’t like seeing him that way. I wonder if he’s bothered by it too, how different Theo seems.

  Of course he is. No one wants to see one of their children go to prison.

  “It’s going to take some time for us to learn to be a family again,” Dad starts, frowning a little. “We’re going to have to cut Theo some slack.”

  “Yeah. Sure.” We stare at each other silently for a moment, before I turn to head up the stairs. “I’ll go put those sheets on the bed.”

  “Thanks, sweetie. I’m going to make some sandwiches.” Dad turns toward the kitchen. “Do you want one?”

  “Yeah, I could eat.” My stomach chooses that moment to growl, and my dad chuckles.

  Me? My face turns scarlet as I remember exactly how I worked up that appetite.

  “I’ll be back down in a second.” Afraid that my face will somehow tell my dad exactly what I was up to tonight, I rush up the stairs. Clean sheets are in the linen closet outside of the bathroom. As I cross the landing, I notice that the bathroom door is ajar. Hot, moist air wraps around me, then dissipates, leaving me chilled.

  Why the hell didn’t he close the damn door? Grabbing a set of navy-blue sheets with one hand, I reach for the doorknob with the other, intending to close it. I don’t know what the bathroom facilities were like in jail, and I can’t imagine they had much privacy. Maybe I should feel sorry for Theo.

  But he’s home now, and there are going to be some rules.

  The door is jerked open before I can grab the doorknob. Theo stands in the cloud of steam, naked except for a towel that he’s wrapped around his waist.

  “Sorry.” I blurt this out as a kneejerk reaction, even though he’s the one who left the door
open. I try to avert my eyes, but my gaze is drawn by the huge changes in my brother.

  He’s gotten pale, and where he was once lean, he is now soft. Crude-looking tattoos spread across his chest and ring his upper arms.

  “Did you need something?” Theo smirks as my stare whips upward from his chest to his face. The half smile there is the biggest change of all.

  I hadn’t expected that we would all be one big happy family again once he got home. But it was looking as if there was going to be a bit more of an adjustment than I’d anticipated.

  Theo rocks back on his heels, still with that damn smug smile on his lips, and my temper snaps. I’ve had a really crappy day, and I’m not going to be afraid in my own home.

  “Yeah, I do. Close the door when you’re in the shower.” Scowling, I shove the sheets into his arms. “Here. Make your own bed. I have to change.”

  “You have changed, haven’t you?” His lips twitch upward as he looks me over. He’s deliberately trying to intimidate me. He’d been a bit of a bully before he left, but now there’s an edge of cruelty to it—a ruthlessness.

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I shouldn’t take the bait, but the fact that he deliberately misinterprets my words is so incredibly frustrating. Is this how it’s going to be now?

  “You used to be sweet.” Again he looks me up and down, and my fingers tighten on the belt of my robe. I suppose it’s not so different from how I looked at him, assessing the changes that two years have brought to each other. And I have changed—I’m not a wild child anymore. I’m not the sweet teenager I once was, either.

  I’m strong, and I’m not going to put up with this shit.

  “Whatever, Theo.” Spinning on my heel, I hurry to my bedroom. Slamming the door behind me, I lean back against the worn wood, bravado fading and defeat moving in.

  Perfect end to a perfect fucking day, sarcasm intended.

  After changing into loose sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt, I return to the kitchen. There’s a plate of sandwiches on the kitchen table, and I smile when I see that they’re peanut butter and banana, comfort food from my childhood. Dad’s even poured three tall glasses of milk.

  Grabbing a sandwich half, I slump into my spot at the table, biting in, savoring the combination of salty and sweet.

  Maybe this will put Theo in a better mood. It could hardly make him any worse.

  “So, where were you tonight?” Dad rips open a bag of kettle chips and pours them into a bowl. “I texted you a few times.”

  My mouth goes dry and it’s suddenly very hard to swallow the mouthful of peanut butter.

  “Sorry. I… I was busy.” I lift my glass of milk to hide my face, my cheeks flushing scarlet.

  “Too busy to answer your old man?” Dad arches an eyebrow as he seats himself across the table from me.

  I drop my gaze to my lap. My cheeks warm. I shiver remembering the feeling of being draped over Seth’s lap, the sensation of his open hand landing on my backside.

  I might have gone to The Velvet Underground because of Dr. Gill’s suggestion, but once I get some alone time tonight…

  I’m going to have to do some serious thinking about how much I liked what happened there. If I can separate that out from Seth.

  I’m not sure that I can, which makes me very glad that the lighting in our kitchen isn’t the greatest—I don’t want Dad to zero in on my blush.

  I don’t count on the parental radar, though. I manage to maintain a poker face as I set my milk down, but I can feel Dad’s stare on me, assessing.

  “You weren’t out drinking, were you?” His voice is gruff, and my mouth falls open a bit.

  Really? After all this time, he still thinks I’d do that to him?

  “Dad. Come on. You know I don’t do that anymore.” I shove the rest of the sandwich in my mouth so I don’t have to talk. I’m a shitty liar, and the last thing I’m about to do is tell him the truth.

  No, Dad, I wasn’t out drinking. My therapist recommended I try out this local BDSM club, and guess what? While I was there I almost fucked Seth. You remember Seth, right? My former stepbrother?

  Of course, Theo chooses that moment to come in. He’s wearing a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt that I recognize as Dad’s. He eyes the table, a slight scowl around the corners of his mouth, and I realize belatedly that the chair I’m sitting in—the one I’ve sat in for the last two years—used to be his.

  I’m still pissed at him, but… maybe I can cut him some slack. I’m about to stand up to let him have his old seat back, because really, what does it matter to me? But before I can, he sits down in the empty chair, his knee bumping mine, knocking it into the table leg hard enough to make me wince.

  “Don’t do what?” He grabs a sandwich, peeling back the top slice of bread and cramming potato chips into the space between.

  “Drink.” I watch as Theo takes a massive bite of his concoction.

  “So you’re not fun anymore.” Shards of potato chips fall as he smirks at me.

  My mouth falls open slightly at the completely inappropriate comment. Has he forgotten all those nights that I was too wasted to even speak, all those times Dad had to come pick me up from some random parking lot or alley, because I’d crawled out of a random guy’s car after blowing him in an attempt to fill that hole inside of me?

  He had to remember. He’d stumbled onto me in action once, that unfortunately memorable time in which I’d been with three of his football-team buddies. I’d been high and halfway to tipsy, never mind that it was a lunch hour, but I’ll never forget the pure rage on his face.

  “Theo.” Dad’s voice is sharp, but I notice that his eyes are still focused on me. He’s always been wary about me relapsing, and right now I can see that he doesn’t entirely believe that I wasn’t out partying.

  It seems that Theo isn’t done with his trip down memory lane.

  “Do you remember that one night when you crashed the car into Mrs. Diaz’s mailbox?” He almost chokes on his sandwich as he starts to laugh. “You tore up half of her lawn. It was awesome.”

  “It wasn’t awesome at all. I was sick, Theo. I needed help.” I’m absolutely stunned by this point. It wasn’t hard for me to believe that Theo had a cruel streak in there, but this… this was over the top. These were horrible memories, fuckups that had taken me a lot of time and immeasurable pain to come back from.

  “And then Mrs. Diaz came out of the house and tried to hit you with her broom. And you were so out of it you just stood there, looking at her like… whaaaat?” He laughs harder now, grabbing a second sandwich. “What a cunt.”

  “Theo!” Dad barks, slamming his hand down on the table. “I realize that you’ve been through a rough time. But this is not appropriate. Apologize to your sister right now.”

  Theo stares back at Dad insolently, but I can see the anger underneath. It’s… kind of chilling.

  Does he truly no longer understand that what he just said was horrible?

  I don’t like to retreat, but after today, I’m just completely drained. I’m not that person anymore, and I’m not going to sit here and take this. “Thanks for dinner, Dad.”

  Theo grabs my arm before I can leave the kitchen and when I try to yank away, his fingers press into my flesh, the nails biting. “I don’t want you to go yet. I just got home.”

  I eye him warily, not sure what to make of his suddenly sweet tone.

  “I’m sorry about my language. It’s the rather unfortunate result of being around thugs and criminals for so long.” Here, finally—this sounds like the Theo I know.

  Instead of being relieved though, this makes me even more wary. Is the asshole act real, or a front?

  Right now, I just don’t fucking care.

  “I’m tired. I’m going to bed. I will see you tomorrow.” Pointedly I look down at Theo’s hand, which is still clasped around my upper arm.

  There’s a long, uncomfortable pause. He removes it, but I get a sense that he doesn’t want to. That he would�
�ve been perfectly happy to squeeze the blood out of my arm. There are marks on my skin from where his fingers pressed in.

  And I’m being ridiculous. He might be a jerk, but he’s my brother.

  Still, I’m close to tears when I reach my room, and I hate to cry. This has probably been the worst night of my life… and I’ve had a few. A night that was supposed to be therapeutic has turned into an utter disaster, bringing those feelings that I’ve struggled to eradicate back to the fore… back to when I ache for a man I shouldn’t, and have doubts about one who I thought I could trust.

  Chapter Two

  SETH

  Sweat drips in my eyes as I jog down the street. It’s five a.m. and no one is out except for a paper delivery van. I run past a long row of darkened houses, houses that are both familiar and foreign to me now. Kind of like I once dreamt them.

  How many times did I walk these streets during those months I lived in Galveston? Especially in the dark, like it is now. Probably a hundred, often with Tristan and Gavin at my side.

  The burn in my lungs tells me I’m about to hit the wall, that one where the legs feel like lead and it’s almost impossible to keep going. Bearing down, I pump my arms and legs as fast as they will go. My muscles quiver from the exertion, but I’m hoping this run will clear my head.

  I like control. I try to maintain it in all areas of my life—work, diet, physical activity. Sex.

  Last night, though? For the first time ever, I couldn’t control my submissive, and it haunted me. At least, that’s what I told myself—that the reason I couldn’t sleep was because last night went spinning out of my grasp.

  I know that’s not true. The way I’m feeling is one hundred percent from seeing Allegra again. Actually, I think I could have handled just seeing her—I’d known it was a possibility, coming back to Galveston.

  But because I’d asked for that damn room at that damn club to be set up in a way that ensured I couldn’t identify my partner—it had been a way to keep my distance, and it had also been my downfall. I pride myself on my self-control, and I know that I would never have touched Allegra otherwise. Never.