Read My Stepbrother's Arrangement (A Stepbrother Romance) for Free Online Page B

breakfast.
     
    This led me to the obvious conclusion that I really had no idea how to cook breakfast.
     
    I know. Bad, huh?
     
    Well, it wasn’t entirely my fault. My mom died when I was six, and she was the one who used to do all the cooking. I remember waking up to egg white omelettes specked with gourmet ham and red peppers and cheese, and thinking it was the most delicious thing on the planet. And it was.
     
    Unfortunately, neither myself nor my dad knew how to cook. And seeing as how my dad was always super rich, we learned to ‘finger cook’ as he called it, also known as punching in the number to a restaurant in the phone.
     
    So the extent of my breakfast making abilities was cereal, and if I was feeling especially daring, maybe even toast.
     
    You know, after last night, I think Olivia deserves better than toast.
     
    I grabbed my phone and looked for a good breakfast place on Yelp. There was a diner a few blocks away that had great reviews, so I tapped their phone number and waited for the connection.
     
    As the phone rang I thought about Olivia still asleep upstairs, of her perky, perfectly shaped breasts, of the warm area between her legs, of how wet she got as soon as I…
     
    “Hello, Jay Ten Diner,” a lady answered.
     
    “Hi, I’m wondering if I can order some food to have delivered.”
     
    “I’m sorry Sir, we don’t do deliveries.”
     
    “I’ll pay an extra $50 if you make an exception for me.”
     
    I could practically hear the gears whirring in the waitresses’ head.
     
    “Where do you want the delivery?” I gave her the address.
     
    “Ok, deal. What can I get for you?” I smiled. Being rich was awesome.
     
    Ten minutes later I heard some rustling from upstairs. Perfect timing, the woman on the phone told me breakfast would be there in less than fifteen.
     

Olivia
 
    I woke up with a pain through my ankle and general soreness through the rest of my body.
     
    For those first few seconds I had no idea what had happened. Then suddenly everything came flooding back to me.
     
    The rejection letter from Yale. Kaleb being nice to me. Falling at the Chinese restaurant. The hospital. Coming back home. And… after that…
     
    Holy shit. You did not seriously do that. No, really, please tell me you dreamt it.
     
    I sat up in the bed and looked around. My clothes were strewn everywhere. My bra was dangling from the dresser, my panties on the floor under my desk. My pants were on the baseboard of the bed, and I couldn’t even see what had happened to my shirt. Kaleb’s clothes were mingled in with mine. That was a bad sign.
     
    The most obvious proof was the stickiness of my thighs though.
     
    Ugh. What is wrong with you?
     
    I knew Kaleb was a bad boy. I knew that he didn’t really have limits. I should have known better than to get close to him, I should have known better than to do any of this.
     
    Still, I couldn’t bring myself to regret it completely. After all, the feeling of having him inside of me. He was so big . It had felt so good . Surely that didn’t make it wrong, did it?
     
    Now listen to you. You’re trying to justify what you did. It was wrong. It was a mistake.
     
    I wondered if Kaleb was still around. Maybe he was downstairs. Maybe he had run off, gone somewhere else, ashamed of what we’d done too. Or maybe he just left me like he left all the other girls.
     
    Ugh. This is way too much to deal with when you’re still half asleep. Go have a shower.
     
    Obeying my brain’s orders, I went into my ensuite and started the water. I turned it on as hot as it would go, as if I could burn off the history of what I let my stepbrother do to me last night.
     
    My stepbrother.
     
    Good God, was there anything worse I could have done? This wasn’t the sort of thing I did. I was a good girl. I didn’t wear short skirts, I didn’t go around dating a ton of guys, I didn’t stay up late or go to parties that often. And when I did I always made sure I had