BRIX: A Stepbrother Bully Romance (A Rebels Havoc Book 1) Page 8

  He carries me into his room, dropping me on the edge of the bed. He pauses, stepping back to unbutton his shorts. Now, with the soft light filling the room, the outline of his hard dick pressing against the front of his black boxer briefs is unmistakable.

  “Keep on licking your lips like that, baby, I’m going to make you take me in your mouth.”

  I moan at the mental image, the thought of tasting his velvety skin against my tongue, tasting his arousal.

  “Fuck, is that what you want?”

  He pulls down his briefs, wrapping his hand around his cock, pumping it once, twice. I’m wholly captivated watching him touch himself.

  That is until I see the glistening on the tip of his dick, and it’s not from pre-cum.

  By the look on his face, he’s enjoying me watching him while his other hand reaches down wrapping around his balls as he jerks harder, faster.

  Stepping between my legs, he holds his dick out for me, and I come face-to-face with the piercing through the head of his cock. I want to ask questions, like did it hurt along with thoughts of it getting stuck in my throat, before pushing them out of my mind.

  Taking him in my hand, I mimic his motions after watching what he likes. He uses his other hand to brush the hair away from my face as I lean forward and swipe my tongue beneath the head.

  He responds with a string of curse words flying out of his mouth, ending with how good it feels. When he slides in my mouth, his head tilts back, and I watch in rapture the way his body winds up tight.

  He thrusts his hips toward me, slowly at first, testing how far he can go. Tipping my head back, I open my mouth, giving him a subtle nod of permission to go further.

  “Jesus, fuck!” he moans. I wrap my hand around the base of his cock, thrusting my hand up with him before he quickly pulls out.

  With his hand clenching my hair and his head tossed back, he fucks my mouth. His moans grow louder each time he hits the back of my throat, feeling me gag around him, but I don’t stop.

  I never fucking stop.

  “You’re going to make me cum, Ivyana, and I want to feel you around me when I do.”

  Grabbing my hand, he pulls me so I’m standing in front of him. He pulls on the string untying the top of my bikini. Standing naked in front of him, it crosses my mind for a moment how this doesn’t feel weird or uncomfortable. In fact, nothing has ever felt more right.

  I don’t allow myself to overthink or overanalyze all the ways this could end up a mess.

  Brix takes my seat on the edge of the bed, pulling me on top of him before leaning back on his elbows. Positioning him beneath me, I rub the head of his cock over my clit.

  The feel of the tip, along with the metal piercing, on my most sensitive skin, feels phenomenal.

  “If you keep that shit up, I’m not going to make it much longer.”

  Positioning him at my core, I slowly lean back, taking in every inch. The sounds of our moans mix in the silence around us. Brix falls back on the bed, sliding his hands into mine.

  We continue to rock back and forth, our heavy breaths and whispered words carrying us through each thrust. Our eyes never leave each other’s, not until we both fall over the edge, crashing together until I collapse on his chest.

  We lie like this for a while after we’re done, me on top of him, chest to chest.

  “Sleep with me?”

  Reality begins to sink in. I want to pull back and question everything until I convince myself this is wrong and run away. But I don’t.

  Instead, we crawl under the blankets and with my head on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around me, we fall into a peaceful sleep.

  Twelve

  Ivy

  Adjusting my books in my arm, I knock my shoulder against my locker, shutting it behind me, heading to History. It’s my least favorite class of all, so I’m not in any hurry to get there.

  My breath gets caught in my throat, startling me when I come face-to-face with Evan leaning against the burgundy lockers.

  He flashes me a shy smile as I push the metal frames of my glasses up on my face.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “It’s okay,” I reply nervously, “I didn’t see you coming is all.”

  “You have Mr. Ferguson this hour, right?”

  I’m surprised he even knows. I nod. “How’d you know?”

  “I’ve been paying attention.” His smile widens.

  I grin, heat flushing my face. I recover quickly, trying to hide my excitement. Evan has been talking to me more often lately. At first, I wasn’t sure what to think, but over the past few weeks, I’ve been developing feelings for him that are completely new to me. Butterflies in my stomach, shaky voice when I try to speak.

  It’s like all thought is out the window when he’s around. I want to keep my wits about me because this boy sends me out of my mind with nerves.

  “I’ll walk you.” He holds his hand out to lead the way.

  Ducking my head down, I bite my lip to hide my grin once more. Every step we take, I’m hyperaware of each time his arm brushes mine.

  “So, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about Homecoming next week. I was thinking.” He pauses. For a second, I notice the shell in his confident exterior break, realizing whatever he’s about to say is making him nervous, too. “If you don’t have anyone to go with, ya know, to the dance. I’d really like to take you.”

  My eyes search the floor, shocked, before I glance up at Evan over the rim of my glasses. His dark hair and dark eyes looking so handsome. He stares back at me, eyes bouncing between mine down to my mouth, waiting for my response.

  “Yes…” I breathe heavily. “Yes, I’d love to go to the dance with you.”

  We approach Ferguson’s room just then and he stops, holding the door open to let me through. I cannot believe he asked me to the dance. I know we had been talking more lately, but I had no idea he had been interested in me. At least not in the same ways I was him.

  “Great! I’ll catch up with you, and we’ll talk about all the details. See ya later, Ivy.”

  I nod, watching when he turns to saunter away.

  Turning to head into the classroom, I’m caught off guard when I see Brix Ward leaning against the wall outside the doorway.

  He chuckles, looking at me and over to Evan, whose back is facing us, each step carrying him further and further down the hall.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” He snickers again.

  Rolling my eyes, I ignore him and focus on getting to my seat before class starts.

  The days after, leading up to the dance, go by at an agonizingly slow pace. I was disappointed when Evan told me he’d meet me at the school before the dance starts, hoping he’d pick me up, like a real date. I pushed the disappointment aside and decided to focus on having a fun time.

  This was my first date to a dance, well, my first date in general. Knowing it was going to be with Evan made me even happier. He had become a friend to me, and I knew it had set a foundation for what I hoped would be something great between us.

  My mom took me to three different department stores the weekend before, and we shopped for hours looking for the perfect dress. As soon as I spotted the beautiful emerald-green dress on the rack, I knew it was the one for me. Green is my favorite color and one I knew not many girls would choose to wear.

  Kyla and her date, Max, stand outside the building with us. The fall temperatures leaving it a little cooler, but the nerves and excitement rushing through me help add warmth to my body.

  “What time did he say he’d be here?” Kyla asks, Max standing behind her with his arm around her waist. She is dressed in a stunning blue dress. The color complementing her eyes perfectly.

  “Any minute now,” I reply, clicking the button on the side of my phone to see the time showing ten minutes after seven o’clock.

  He is late. With every minute that passes, the knot of worry sitting low in the pit of my stomach tightens.

  I didn’t wan
t to think about the likelihood tonight wouldn’t go as I hoped and planned.

  Opening the message thread with him, I type out a response. There has to be a perfectly logical explanation for why he is late. Maybe he had car troubles, or maybe he left his corsage at home, thinking back to the beautiful rose Max had given Kyla, sitting on her wrist.

  Just as I am typing out a response, a black Escalade pulls up in front of us with a line of people jumping out. My eyes fall on Brix, helping some blonde beauty out of the vehicle. Her hair and makeup flawless, her bright pink dress fitting her like a glove, making her look like a barbie doll.

  I thought back to the hair my mom helped me curl. I wasn’t one to normally style my hair. I usually wore my black-framed glasses to school, contacts often made my eyes itch, but for one night, I decided to get through it. Kyla helped me with my makeup. We decided to keep it minimal. I didn’t want to look like I had it caked on.

  Following behind Barbie, I spotted Evan sliding out of the back seat. My brows furrowed in confusion, surprised to see him hanging out with Brix and his posse of losers.

  It was no secret Brix and I didn’t get along. In fact, for most of my freshman year, he had made it his life’s mission to make mine a living hell. Thinking back to when it all started, I can’t even be sure I can pinpoint what happened or why he picked me as his proverbial punching bag.

  But somewhere along the way, Brix decided he hated me and picked on me whenever he had the chance.

  “Evan, hey.” I smiled, waving at him to get his attention.

  His eyes fell on mine, and I could see the regret on his face as he glanced down at my dress to my shoes and back up to meet my eyes.

  What I expected to happen next, I have no idea, but I certainly hadn’t anticipated for him to say nothing at all, which is exactly what he did. He turned, held his hand out to Barbie #2, helping her out of the Escalade. As soon as she stepped out, she adjusted her dress then wrapped her arm around Evan’s.

  I wish I could say I stuck it to him. That I called him out on being the biggest piece of crap at Hawk High. Anything.

  I didn’t, though. I ducked my head and stepped back, tears filling my eyes and threatening to fall. I managed to keep it together, as each person, one by one, climbed out of the vehicle.

  “What the fuck!” Kyla shouted next to me. I should’ve known she would come to my rescue.

  Madden, her brother, standing amongst the group, turned to look at her.

  “Kyla, why don’t you go find something to do besides follow me and my friends around?”

  “Shut the fuck up, puke brains. You and your friends are a bunch of douchebags, you know that?”

  Madden doesn’t reply. He simply goes back to ignoring us, like he usually does.

  When they walked past us, heading toward the front door of the school, Brix turned his head to me. The side of his lip curling up in a salacious smile, muttering, “Fucking loser.”

  His eyes glanced down at my dress, and immediately, I wanted to wrap my arms around me to cover myself up. His eyes traveled down the length of my body before finally falling on mine again. With nothing more than a head shake, he turned his attention back to his date.

  “I’m sorry, Ivy,” Kyla said, wrapping her arms around me. Once we’re alone, just the three of us, I tuck my head into her neck and let the tears flow.

  With the ache in my chest and the embarrassment flushing my skin, all I wanted to do was leave. I wanted to go home, take off this stupid fucking dress and drown my sorrows in a pint of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream.

  I wanted to forget Evan. I wanted to forget this dance.

  Most of all, I wanted to forget how much I hated Brix Ward.

  Something feels off before I ever open my eyes. Maybe “off” isn’t the right word. Different. The heavy weight of Brix’s arm wrapped around me, and the warmth of his body pressed against my back. My next thought is how heavenly this bed feels. It’s what dreams are made of.

  It is then that the gravity of the situation hits me.

  I am naked, in bed, wrapped up in Brix Ward.

  If someone would’ve told me at the beginning of the summer, I’d be waking up next to him after just a few weeks, I would’ve never believed them. Hell, I still can’t believe I gave in to the temptation and desires I had felt since I moved into this house.

  Peering over at the alarm clock on the nightstand, the time flashes four twenty-eight in the morning. My eyes focus on the light as my mind runs through the night before. The way he looked at me, how my body reacted to his touch, the feel of his hands and mouth on me. I don’t know how anything could ever compare to being with Brix, and the realization scares me.

  Despite knowing all of this, I know this won’t end well, and it’s the unsettling feeling that urges me to slip out of Brix’s bed before the sun even starts to rise.

  I need distance. I need to sort through my thoughts and feelings that are starting to consume me.

  Thirteen

  Brix

  I wish I could say I was surprised when I woke up the next morning to find Ivy gone. At some point in the middle of the night, she must’ve slipped out of bed.

  Truthfully, I expected it to happen. Everything about the two of us together scared us both, beyond just the obvious reason.

  She’s my stepsister for fuck’s sake. Doesn’t change the fact my body craves hers in ways that would be viewed as unhealthy.

  I wanted to ravage her, own her, make her mine.

  The last part is what had me accepting she had left because if she felt even a fraction of what I did when we were together last night, it’s understandable she’d need time to think.

  While I knew this could end up in a disaster, it didn’t stop me from hoping it’d happen again, either.

  Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I reach for my phone sitting on my bedside table as the vibration starts. I peer out one eye, I see my Uncle Travis’s name flash on the screen.

  What the hell could he be calling me for at seven in the morning?

  “Hello?”

  “Brix!” he sighs. By the tone in his voice, I know whatever he’s about to say next can’t possibly be good.

  “Yeah?”

  “I need you to get your ass over here. It’s your mom,” he murmurs. “She overdid it again, and, yeah. Can you get here quick?”

  I’m up out of bed, pulling my shorts back on from yesterday, not bothering to sort through something to wear.

  “I’ll be right there.”

  Disconnecting the call, I snatch my black baseball cap and a Metallica t-shirt from my closet, tucking my wallet in my back pocket and head toward the door.

  The last time this happened, she had to be admitted for detox for three days. Not that it really helped, but at least she was under supervision.

  She assured us this wouldn’t happen again. She promised she’d get help. Guilt consumes me, knowing since Ivy has started to come around, I’d been too distracted to be what she needs.

  I haven’t been going by her house as often, checking in on her. I failed my own mom. She needs me now, and I am going to do the best I can to be there for her. Whatever that means.

  As I pass by Ivy’s room, the door is shut, but something in me decides to check to see if she is here. To make sure she is okay.

  Wrapping my hand around the handle, I slowly turn the knob and ease the door open. She is dressed in my black t-shirt I had left laying on my floor, the one I noticed was missing a few minutes ago, curled into a ball in the center of her bed. A small green blanket covers her legs, her bright red toes sticking out from the bottom.

  She looks like an angel, sleeping peacefully. I debate taking a picture of her, wanting to remember her dressed in my shirt, but decide against it.

  With my luck that would be the moment she’d wake up and catch me standing over her.

  Ducking my head, I step out of her room, pulling the door shut behind me.

  I have places to go and someone important to me
who needs me right now. I don’t have time to get caught up in the thoughts and feelings swirling around in my head. The drive over to my mom’s leaves me with plenty of time to stew over them, though.

  Parking in front of the small blue house, I spot my mom’s broken-down Saturn. It reminds me of the old rust bucket Ivy drives. I have tried hundreds of times to get her to invest in something more reliable, but she fights me on it at every turn.

  Travis steps out onto the front porch stoop, pulling a pack of cigarettes from the pocket on his button-up Miller’s Auto shirt.

  “She alright?”

  “She’s gonna be, but she needs to get help. I’m talkin’ serious help, B.”

  “Fuck, bro. I don’t know what to do.”

  “I’ll look into it for you, but I’m talking an inpatient facility. She’s gonna have to go away for a while. This can’t be on you or me to help her fix it. She has to want it, and she’s gonna have to do the work.”

  I nod. He’s right. We’ve been trying to help her on our own for far too long. I’m beyond exhausted, and I don’t know where to turn anymore.

  I can’t keep being the parent she should’ve been to me growing up. As much as I love her, I miss the mom she was to me before the divorce.

  Shouldering past him, I open the screen door and step inside the house. Beer cans litter the coffee table and floor throughout the living room. Empty vodka bottles are lined up in a row on the TV stand as if being displayed like some sort of trophy.

  “Brix,” she slurs, holding her hand up to wave at me. “My sweet, handsome son.” Her words come out like they are tied to each other. “I missed you, honey. C’mere.”

  She moves to sit up, holding her arms out toward me to give me a hug. Not able to say no to her, I wrap my arms around her. The strong smell of alcohol on her breath is enough to leave me drunk. I squeeze my eyes shut at the sadness that creeps over me witnessing her like this.

  When is enough going to be enough?

  Pulling back, she gives me a sad smile before she slumps against the couch. Her shirt is pulled up awkwardly, but she’s still so drunk she doesn’t even notice or maybe she doesn’t care.