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BRIX: A Stepbrother Bully Romance (A Rebels Havoc Book 1) Page 7


  After band practice, we head over to the Shake Shop. Most of our friends hang out down by the beach during the summer. With the Shake Shop sitting off the pier, it makes it a hoppin’ place even on a weeknight.

  The sun has started to set when we pull up. Tysin’s in the front seat across from me, Madden sitting in the truck bed of my ‘69 Chevy.

  As soon as I put it in park, Tysin’s door is open, and Madden makes the jump over the side of the truck.

  “You fuckers can’t even wait until I have the thing turned off, can you?”

  Madden doesn’t even acknowledge me, and Tysin holds his middle finger over his head.

  I’m not in the mood to eat. With my leg perched beneath me, I lean against the wall with my arms crossed in front of my chest. Sunglasses shield my eyes, watching the beachgoers pass by us along the boardwalk.

  “Will you put on some clothes?” Madden barks.

  Glancing over, I spot his sister approach with her friends following along behind her. She’s dressed in a yellow bikini top, and crop shorts rolled at her hips, showing off her sun-kissed skin. With her bright hair and swimsuit, there’s no missing her, and now I understand Madden’s comment.

  Even if she’s Madden’s sister, she looks damn good, and I’d be a fucking liar if I said I didn’t look twice.

  It doesn’t take long though before my eyes are trailing away from her to the brunette standing behind her. Ivy’s deep brown hair is down, pulled over her shoulder. The bright red swimsuit top with matching wrap sitting low on her hips.

  When I say low, I mean fucking low, showing off her hip bone. Immediately, my mind trails to what she is covering beneath those small bikini bottoms and see-through sarong.

  Once again, thoughts of Ivy seep into my mind like a fucking poison out to kill me slowly. I imagine what she’d look like spread out before me on my bed. Her wild hair fanning around her as I slip off her sexy-as-sin swimsuit and taste her.

  The thought of how sweet she would be makes my mouth water. Dragging myself from the visions flashing through my mind to find the spotlight of my dreams standing in front of me.

  I don’t take my eyes off her, even when she shoots daggers at me, remembering how she spoke to me the last time we saw each other.

  At least until I notice Frankenstein standing behind her. I don’t know what it is she sees in this guy. Dude looks so tense walking next to her; you’d think he had a stick shoved far up his ass.

  “Well, if it isn’t the three stooges,” Kyla jokes, rolling her eyes at her brother before peering back over at Tysin, holding his stare. I’m waiting for Madden to knock his head off with the way he’s gazing at his sister, biting his lip as he does.

  “Did you see who’s with Kyla?” Tysin asks, elbowing me in the side, pointing at Ivy. As if she doesn’t see him.

  “I’m not fucking blind.”

  “Whatever happened to you having her eat out of the palm of your hand? Have you fucked your sister yet?” Tysin laughs.

  For a second, I wonder if Ivy heard him, her eyes darting over to me.

  “If you don’t shut the fuck up, you’ll be eating sand in two seconds. You fucking hear me?”

  Holding his palms up, he takes a step back. Tysin swipes his shake cup off the counter, backing away from me, lifting the straw up to his mouth with a smirk on his face. When Ivy turns to talk to Frankenstein next to her, Tysin has the nerve to waggle his brows and nod his head toward them.

  Steam is practically blowing out of my ears, and I’m ready to head out of here. My eyes find Ivy once again, trying to force myself to calm down, only now it looks like she’s cozied up next to him. Every so often, Ivy’s eyes flit back over to mine. A few times, I don’t even try to cover up the fact I’m staring back at her, too, but her eyes quickly dart away.

  The moment I catch his arm draped around her waist, rubbing his thumb along the soft skin of her hip, it’s time for me to jet.

  “I’m about to dip out of here. You guys want a ride?” I ask, looking between Tysin and Madden, motioning to the truck.

  Madden is too busy chatting it up with some girl who walked by to even pay attention. With Madden’s mind in other places, Tysin’s sliding in trying to talk to Kyla. He clearly doesn’t want to leave now. Ivy peers over at me, surprised by my tone and abrupt decision to leave.

  “Alright, I’m gonna head out,” I say, looking over at Ivy. Before turning to leave, I pause and say, “I’ll see you at home.”

  I don’t wait for her to respond because truthfully, it wasn’t even a question. I’m sick of her hiding and avoiding me. I’m pissed at having to watch her with this tool.

  I wish we could go back to the way things were between us the night her car broke down. While it was brief, I miss the ease between the two of us.

  I stop to pick up a pizza and a six-pack of beer before heading home to settle in with a movie. With all the shows we’ve had lately, it’s been crazy, but in a good way. Sometimes I miss having laid-back, relaxing nights in or with my friends like we used to.

  It’s after eight, and I’m about four beers in when I stick the leftover pizza in the fridge, hearing the lock click on the front door before slowly creaking open.

  I know right away it’s Ivy. I intentionally locked it so I would hear when she got home.

  Taking a swig of my beer, I lean against the edge of the counter and watch as she tiptoes in, kicking off her shoes in the entryway, adjusting her purse on her shoulder.

  “I’m glad you finally decided to come back.”

  Her body tenses before she turns to face me. The apples of her cheeks are rosy, accentuating the small freckles dotting her face.

  “Yeah, I bet you are.”

  She doesn’t believe me, the smirk on her face and the hitch in her hip shows she’s ready for an argument. She’s waiting, armed with her sass to fire back at whatever I may throw her way.

  Except she’s wrong. I’m not looking for a fight with her. Not tonight.

  “You care to explain Tysin’s comment to me?”

  I figured she heard him. The fucker knew what he was doing when he said it, too. I’m mentally making a list of all the ways I’d like to make him suffer the next time I see him.

  “What comment?” I ask, playing coy.

  Her eyes narrow into slits, her fist tightening around the strap of her bag, not appreciating how I’m evading the question.

  I decide to ignore the daggers she’s shooting at me while my eyes wander over her tanned skin, letting my eyes eat up every inch of her body still dressed in her bikini. However, she’s since ditched the wrap on her waist and slipped on a pair of denim shorts with high-heel sandals that scream, “fuck me on the counter.”

  Now it’s all I can think about.

  “What was it he said again?” She pauses, before looking me in the eyes. “Have you fucked your sister yet?”

  As if reading my thoughts exactly, I choke on nothing but air. My eyes water, holding my fist in front of my mouth while I struggle to breathe. A smug look passes over Ivy’s face, as I take a drink to clear my throat.

  Setting the empty bottle on the counter away from me, I take the two steps separating us to approach her. The move takes her off guard, and she forces a heavy breath through her nose.

  I wasn’t prepared for it either, as her fresh scent mixed with the smell of coconut wraps around me. My dick hardens in my shorts, straining against the zipper, fighting to break free.

  “Is that what you want, Ivy?” I ask, staring down at her. “Is that why you were bothered the other night when I was with blondie? Were you jealous because I was fucking her, and you wanted it to be you?”

  Her jaw is set, nostrils flaring. As anger simmers in her eyes at the mental images I’m throwing at her.

  “Tell me, Ivy. Is that why you’re pissed at me and have been avoiding coming back home?”

  “I’m not doing this with you, Brix.”

  “Would it help if I told you I was picturing it was you the entire
time?”

  Her mouth opens slightly, taken back by my admission, but she doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t try to argue with me or tell me to shut up.

  Just like the day in the bathroom. She stares back at me, wanting more but not admitting to herself or me it’s what she wants, too.

  “Does it make you feel better knowing the only way I could cum was thinking about your legs wrapped around my hips, your hands digging into my back with every thrust? It’s okay if it’s what you want, Ivy. I want it, too.”

  “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, Brix, but this isn’t funny.”

  I can’t blame her for not believing me. This is what I’ve done to her. I’m guilty of wanting this in the beginning for all the wrong reasons. She has every right to doubt me.

  “This isn’t a game, Ivyana,” I say sternly. Her eyes lower at the use of her full name or maybe it’s my tone.

  Her stance relaxes as I step in closer, circling around her like an animal does their prey. I know I have her precisely where I want her, and the thought of taking her, consuming her, has a spike of adrenaline coursing through me.

  Standing behind her, I pull her hair away from her neck, leaning in close. My dick is pressed against the curve of her ass, and I have to bite my lip to fight off the urge to moan as I subtly rock against her. With my hand against her stomach, holding her to me, she leans back into my touch.

  “You feel the way my body reacts to being close to you, Ivy?” I ask, rocking against her once more. She doesn’t respond, only slightly nods her head.

  “Tell me you were lying in bed thinking about it, too.”

  Her hand covers mine at her waist, and I’m waiting for the moment she pushes me away. For a second, I think she’s going to give in to me and let go of this wall she has up between us when she shoves away from me and races across the dining room and up the stairs to her room.

  Eleven

  Ivy

  Slamming the bathroom door, I sag against it until I slide down to the floor. I let the coldness of the wood cool off my heated skin as I run my hands over my face and into my hair.

  Why did I let him touch me?

  Why the hell am I even thinking about what he’s offering?

  I’m waiting for the second when I find out this is all a joke, that he’s fucking with me. I don’t trust Brix farther than I could throw him. If that’s true, though, why is he right? Why was I lying in bed that night thinking about it being me he was with?

  Standing, I open the linen closet and grab an unused washcloth. Turning the tap on the faucet, I let the cold water soak the fabric and gently press the cool cloth against my face. Turning the water off, I sit on the closed toilet seat, continuing to hold the material against my skin, helping ease the tension I’m feeling.

  I can’t keep running away and avoiding him. Even when he said he’d see me tonight, I knew it wasn’t his way of asking if I was coming home. He was telling me either I come back tonight or he’d come find me. He was putting a stop to me ignoring him.

  Now I need to figure out how I’m going to put a stop to the mess we’ve found ourselves in.

  I sit on the toilet for longer than necessary. I listen for any sounds outside the door, any inkling he’s still here or could be waiting for me.

  Resigning myself to the fact I’m being a coward and need to face this head-on, I set the wet washcloth on the edge of the bathtub for when I shower in the morning and decide I’ll deal with my problems tomorrow.

  I’m not going to solve them all tonight and hiding in the bathroom sure as hell isn’t going to fix it either.

  Hitting the lock, I slowly peel open the door and step out into the hallway. As soon as I turn the corner toward my room, I see him standing at the end of the hall outside his bedroom door.

  My fingers hit the light switch, and just like that, we’re swallowed in darkness. The lamp from his bedroom is on, casting a faint glow from behind him. He’s dressed in only shorts. His shirt is gone, and for a moment, I wish I could turn the light back on to get a better look at the tattoos covering his body.

  Reminding myself of what I told myself a moment ago, I decide to not cower away anymore. Every step of the way down the hall toward my room feels like an eternity. I feel my skin burning up from the heat of his stare.

  Just as I’m about to open my door, his words stop me.

  “So, are you dating Frankenstein now?”

  My brows furrow in confusion. “What? Who?”

  “The guy at the festival? The one you were with earlier who looks like he has a stick up his ass. Are you guys together now?”

  I hate to admit it, but I want to laugh at his assessment.

  “No. We’ve been hanging out, but it’s nothing serious. Nothing I see lasting beyond the summer anyway.”

  Peering up at him from where my hair falls in front of my face, my eyes trace his muscles from the way his arms are crossed, leaning against the doorway.

  “Coulda fooled me.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I saw how he touched you…” He trails off. “He didn’t touch you like it was the first time he had put his hands on you.”

  He almost sounds jealous. His reaction to me around Trevor had come off this way, but now, the words only confirm it.

  “I don’t think it’s any of your business, Brix. I think it’s best...” I let out a heavy sigh. “It’s just best if we stay away from each other for the rest of the summer. Remember, you go your way, I’ll go mine.”

  His mouth curves up, smirking. Pushing off the wall, he stalks toward me, stopping only when he gets a hair’s breadth away.

  “I think you’re wrong. It’s very much my business. I’ve spent every night for the past five days thinking about you while you’ve been avoiding me. I want you to look me in the eye and tell me you don’t feel this between us.”

  “Brix,” I whisper. “Please.”

  “Say it.”

  He grabs my hand, pulling me closer to him, and I go without argument. I don’t have any strength left in me to fight this, not that I even want to anymore.

  “Say what?”

  His lip curves up, pushing my back against the wall. His arms wrap around my waist, his fingers dig into my skin, holding me to him.

  “Do you feel this?” he asks, leaning forward until his lips are close to my neck.

  Tilting my head to the side, I give him better access, waiting for the moment he puts us both out of our misery.

  His hands drag up the sides of my body as he pulls back an inch, dragging his finger beneath the curve of my breast. My nipples bead at the thought of his hands touching me.

  My chest starts to heave with each struggled breath; my skin heats with desire.

  “Does that feel good?”

  I nod, as he drags his finger up the center of my chest to the edge of my swimsuit top. The only thing covering me is two barely-there triangles held together by a couple strings.

  Leaning back, I watch Brix slide his thumb in his mouth, wetting it before brushing it over the tip of my nipple.

  He moans, biting down on his lip ring.

  Watching his reaction to touching me has me incredibly turned on. My fingers rake over his pecs, down over his clenched stomach to the edge of his shorts. Slipping my fingers under the elastic, I wrap my fist around the waistband and pull him closer to me.

  “Fuck, baby,” he groans, thrusting against my stomach. His aching cock is straining through the thin material.

  He doesn’t hold back any longer. His fingers pull the fabric covering my chest over and it falls away without protest as his hand covers my breast.

  Leaning forward, his mouth covers my nipple sending shock waves through my body at the unbelievable sensation. Gripping my fingers in his hair, I hold Brix to me, not wanting him to pull away or stop.

  “Oh my God,” I moan, running my palm over the front of his pants, earning me a bite on my sensitive skin.

  “More. Please.”<
br />
  He releases my breast, immediately moving to the button on the front of my shorts. He falls to his knees before me, savagely pulling the denim to the floor, leaving me standing with only my bikini bottoms on.

  “My fucking God,” he mutters to himself, leaning forward to press kisses from my hip bone down over the front of the material. I thrust my hips toward him, seeking his mouth as he tilts his head back, smiling devilishly at me.

  “Look at you, baby. Serving me this fucking pussy, knowing it’s exactly what I want.”

  His vulgar words only turn me on more.

  “Brix,” I whisper.

  “Mm, I know.”

  Tugging at the strings tied at my waist, my bottoms fall to the floor along with my shorts leaving me naked and exposed for him.

  “Holy fuck.” He presses a kiss against my upper thigh, trailing his lips over my hip bone again until he reaches my pussy. My fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him where I need him most.

  Lifting my leg over his shoulder, giving him better access, he slides his tongue through my slit. His fingers digging into the curve of my ass help to stabilize me, which I’m grateful for. With nothing but my hand in his hair and my other pressed against the wall, I hold on for the glorious ride as his tongue swipes over my clit.

  Rotating my hips, I ride his face like it’s the one and only place I want to be. When he gently slides a finger in, my movements turn urgent while I grind against him.

  “Fuck, Brix. Oh, God,” I murmur, my body shaking when he adds a second finger. Once his mouth closes over my clit, sucking, the vibration from his moans sends me soaring over the edge.

  Sagging against the wall, Brix grabs me by the waist. This time, he doesn’t hold back, doesn’t ask for permission as his mouth crashes against mine. Wrapping my hand around his neck, I hold him against me, our tongues tangling together.

  Lifting me, my legs circle his waist as he carries me down the hall. My assault on his mouth doesn’t slow. I’m so turned on, and all I can think about is tasting him, feeling him.

  I want more of him.