Read Hard: A Step-Brother Romance for Free Online Page A

relationship. Her hint of shame—the embarrassment of a good girl who never
went home with strangers, never let them kiss and lick and fuck her, never
believed she’d have the night of her life grinding against a cock harder than
steel—that drove me fucking wild.
    I
wanted that Shay back. I wanted the voracious, passionate, beautiful woman
who wasn’t afraid to tell me where to touch, how hard to thrust, and how deep
to push.
    But
she wasn’t playing.
    “Let
go of me.” Shay shook free of my grasp. “You can’t call it fun anymore. You
can’t call it anything . What we did was wrong.” She shoved away before
she leaned any closer to my lips. “What you did was wrong. You should
have told me who you were.”
    “It
wouldn’t have mattered.”
    “You
stand to inherit half of my father’s fortune. Half, and I don’t even know
you. You are a complete and total stranger to me, and, somehow, you managed to
steal from me, from my family, and from the memory of my father. You’re a
monster.”
    “Not
fair.”
    “You’re
right. It isn’t fair.” Shay returned to William’s desk and grabbed both sets of
keys. She pocketed them both and scowled. “If you think you’re getting anything
from me, you’re wrong. Enjoy the memory of that night, Zach, because the next
time I fuck you over? You won’t like it so much.”
    “At
least there’ll be a next time,” I grinned.
    “Not
going to happen, Zach. This is the last time you ever see me.”
    I wasn’t
a betting man, but I’d stake all my newly inherited fortune on her being wrong.
I’d give her the money, park the cars, and never set foot in the estate if it
meant I’d have another shot to get back with her.
    One
night wasn’t enough. Sex with Shay was a religious conversion, and I was a
zealot without a temple.
    No
need pissing her off. I surrendered, my hands in the air.
    “You
stay,” I said. “You and William probably have a lot to discuss.”
    I
winked at her, heading to the door. The attorney could email me whatever papers
I had to initial. For a chance at Shay, I was prepared to sign my life, soul,
and cock away.
    Shay
fumed, but I laughed, imagining those pouty lips used for something so much
better than a frown.
    “I’ll
see you around, sis.”

 
     
     
     
     

     
     
     
     
    Thirty-five
thousand square feet.
    What
in the hell was my father going to do with thirty-five thousand square
feet of space in his house?
    Two wings from the
main house. Nine bedrooms.
    Eleven
freaking bathrooms.
    I couldn’t
begin to process how ridiculous it was to have eleven bathrooms. He had
each room finished with a different imported Italian tile, showcasing bathtubs
large enough for Olympic training. I half expected a synchronized swimming team
to pop out of the Jacuzzi bubbles and start scrubbing the vanities.
    This
mansion was nothing like where we lived growing up. When company came over to
Momma’s two bedroom apartment, we could only set out the good soap. The
kind that smelled like mint-raspberry and was carved into ocean animals even
though Momma never saw a starfish in her life.
    Sure
it was humble, but it was our life. While Momma was proud to provide premium toilet
paper—triple ply with decals—for our visiting friends, my father painted
the walls of his guest bathroom with flecks of real gold.
    Even
the camel trying to fit through the needle in Jerusalem would have taken a
detour through the sauna attached to the master bath.
    I
toured through the house on tippy-toes, as if the real owner would follow me to
the conservatory and knock me out for trespassing. They’d find me dead in the library,
a candelabra to the head Professor Plum style. But no one murdered me while I explored
the dining room behind the second sitting parlor. At least, it looked like a dining room—the kind from fancy story books and European castles and
movies with Anne Hathaway.
    This
wasn’t a home. It was a maze. My father stuffed it full of relics and statues
and