Read His Dark Secret – A Stepbrother Romance for Free Online
Authors: Vanessa Wilde
down.
Brenda took her other hand, placed it on his chin, and forced his gaze reluctantly upwards.
After a panicky few seconds where his eyes darted left and right, trying to find anywhere else to set themselves, they finally gave up, and met hers.
She was staring at him, searchingly. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but he wasn't expecting that. She didn't seem to be angry, and she didn't seem to be laughing at him. Instead, she was staring piercingly into his eyes, with full and utter earnestness.
After a minute, she spoke.
“James... how old are you?”
Her voice was surprisingly gentle. Doubtful, even. In his surprise, he forgot to be quite so nervous.
“I'm... I'm 19.” He gulped. “I'll be 20 in November.” Ugh . He kicked himself inwardly for that. It was something a 9-year-old would have said.
“Nine... teen...”
Brenda seemed to tremble for a second, her eyebrows knitting in some form of consternation. Then, all of a sudden, her face cleared. She sighed, and the worry seemed to be banished from her face. She let out a little laugh, and shrugged.
James noticed her hand wasn't gripping his arm anymore. He looked down to see it drift across his chest, before delicately gathering a fistful of his shirt.
Next thing he knew, he was being pulled downward.
Before he could react, his lips were locked with Brenda's.
It took him some time to realize this was a kiss. It was so much... so much more than he had ever imagined. He had thought it would be something like kissing someone on the cheek – like he had used to do to his mother, when was a kid.
He hadn't known that, unlike cheeks, lips kiss you back.
He had barely adjusted to this new world when, suddenly, but somehow also gracefully, Brenda slipped her tongue into his mouth. It slid past his – a revelation – before retracing its path along it, in, and out. Then she circled herself through his mouth – languidly, taking her deep, slow pleasure.
Her grip at first tightened on his shirt, then clutched at his chest through it, creating little lines of pain and promise.
Slowly – so slowly – her knee rubbed against his, then up along his thigh, and at last – with the force of salvation – between his legs.
BZZZZT .
The electric doorbell rang, following by three light knocks, and a voice drifted in through the open window.
“Hello? Um... he–llo? Sorry, but may I ask if my husband's here? He said he was just going to come for ten minutes, but he hasn't come back home yet, and...”
Only now did Brenda let go her grip on James' neck, where she'd held him clamped to her for every second of his life that was worth remembering.
“I think you'd better get that, bud.”
James was rooted there, stock still, his mind completely blank. Brenda let out a little snort of laughter, and pushed him in the direction of the front door.
“Oh, and James?”
He turned around mechanically, having automatically shambled a few steps to his destination.
Brenda was in the doorway to the kitchen, where she could easily let herself out through the back door, and into her own home, unnoticed. The vulnerability which he thought he could remember glimpsing a few seconds (minutes? hours?) ago was gone; she was her back to her confident, seemingly all-knowing self.
“If you want to continue our discussion, you can come around my place tomorrow. Early afternoon.”
And with that, she was gone.
\\\\////
The door to 18 Meridian Lane swung open, and James quickly stuffed the tie (which he had so agonized over whether or not to wear) into his back pocket.
“Ah, hey James. Come in.”
Before he knew it, he was standing in Brenda's house, having just closed the front door behind him, and watching Brenda walk back over to the kitchen table, sit down at a laptop, and start typing.
James was completely confused.
He
Brenda took her other hand, placed it on his chin, and forced his gaze reluctantly upwards.
After a panicky few seconds where his eyes darted left and right, trying to find anywhere else to set themselves, they finally gave up, and met hers.
She was staring at him, searchingly. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but he wasn't expecting that. She didn't seem to be angry, and she didn't seem to be laughing at him. Instead, she was staring piercingly into his eyes, with full and utter earnestness.
After a minute, she spoke.
“James... how old are you?”
Her voice was surprisingly gentle. Doubtful, even. In his surprise, he forgot to be quite so nervous.
“I'm... I'm 19.” He gulped. “I'll be 20 in November.” Ugh . He kicked himself inwardly for that. It was something a 9-year-old would have said.
“Nine... teen...”
Brenda seemed to tremble for a second, her eyebrows knitting in some form of consternation. Then, all of a sudden, her face cleared. She sighed, and the worry seemed to be banished from her face. She let out a little laugh, and shrugged.
James noticed her hand wasn't gripping his arm anymore. He looked down to see it drift across his chest, before delicately gathering a fistful of his shirt.
Next thing he knew, he was being pulled downward.
Before he could react, his lips were locked with Brenda's.
It took him some time to realize this was a kiss. It was so much... so much more than he had ever imagined. He had thought it would be something like kissing someone on the cheek – like he had used to do to his mother, when was a kid.
He hadn't known that, unlike cheeks, lips kiss you back.
He had barely adjusted to this new world when, suddenly, but somehow also gracefully, Brenda slipped her tongue into his mouth. It slid past his – a revelation – before retracing its path along it, in, and out. Then she circled herself through his mouth – languidly, taking her deep, slow pleasure.
Her grip at first tightened on his shirt, then clutched at his chest through it, creating little lines of pain and promise.
Slowly – so slowly – her knee rubbed against his, then up along his thigh, and at last – with the force of salvation – between his legs.
BZZZZT .
The electric doorbell rang, following by three light knocks, and a voice drifted in through the open window.
“Hello? Um... he–llo? Sorry, but may I ask if my husband's here? He said he was just going to come for ten minutes, but he hasn't come back home yet, and...”
Only now did Brenda let go her grip on James' neck, where she'd held him clamped to her for every second of his life that was worth remembering.
“I think you'd better get that, bud.”
James was rooted there, stock still, his mind completely blank. Brenda let out a little snort of laughter, and pushed him in the direction of the front door.
“Oh, and James?”
He turned around mechanically, having automatically shambled a few steps to his destination.
Brenda was in the doorway to the kitchen, where she could easily let herself out through the back door, and into her own home, unnoticed. The vulnerability which he thought he could remember glimpsing a few seconds (minutes? hours?) ago was gone; she was her back to her confident, seemingly all-knowing self.
“If you want to continue our discussion, you can come around my place tomorrow. Early afternoon.”
And with that, she was gone.
\\\\////
The door to 18 Meridian Lane swung open, and James quickly stuffed the tie (which he had so agonized over whether or not to wear) into his back pocket.
“Ah, hey James. Come in.”
Before he knew it, he was standing in Brenda's house, having just closed the front door behind him, and watching Brenda walk back over to the kitchen table, sit down at a laptop, and start typing.
James was completely confused.
He
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