Page 6 of Her Stepbrother Master (Master Me #7)

“Ugh, no. She’s way too annoying. I dated her sister for about a minute last year and this one has been all over me ever since.”

She hid a smirk. It was uncharitable of her to feel glee at another girl’s misery, but where Brad was concerned, she had few scruples.

“Come on, I’ll introduce you to Sally.” He led her over to Brian and the pretty young woman.

“Hi, Sally,” he drawled, leaning in for a cheek kiss.

Brian scowled and she wondered if he could possibly be threatened by Brad. The younger brother had always been the ladies’ man, while Brian had been too buried in his studies to worry about women.

“This is LuAnn,” he said.

“She’s our stepsister.” It was Brian who filled in that piece of information.

“Oh,” Sally said, her mouth rounding into a pretty circle. “How nice to meet you. At first I thought Brad finally had taken a serious interest in a girl. Too bad.”

She almost choked on her own spit. “Right. Not me.” Too bad, indeed.

Brad took her hand. “Come on, let’s get going. We have a carnival to attend.”

“Carnival? I thought you said she was grounded.”

She winced at the disapproval in Brian’s voice.

Brad shrugged, pulling her away. “She is, but she studied all day yesterday, so this is her reward. See you later,” he said over his shoulder.

“Brad—” Brian called after him, a note of warning in his voice.

“Don’t worry. I have it covered.”

“We’re riding on the motorcycle, right?” she asked as they headed toward her Thunderbird.

“Yes, silly. Although your dad would probably kill me if he knew. That’s one more thing we’ll have to make sure he never finds out.”

She pushed the tendrils of guilt away. Her parents needn’t know about any of this—not about getting kicked out of the dorm, nor about her living with Brad, especially not about the bare-bottomed spankings he’d given her.

She wouldn’t change her present situation for the world. Living with Brad brought out a yearning for more of him—more closeness, more touching, even more spanking. She liked being under his control. His game of playing strict made him all the more devastatingly attractive to her.

He drove the car back to his apartment where she changed out of her Sunday best and into a pair of Capris and a blouse.

She tied a pretty red print scarf around her neck.

When she came out of the bedroom, Brad went in, passing her in the doorway.

His eyes raked over her, taking in her outfit with an appreciative glint in his blue gaze.

He had already unbuttoned his cuffs, and a flash of heat went through her body as she pictured him taking off his shirt.

He touched her shoulder as they passed, his torso brushing her back, sending tingles of heat across her skin.

What did that strong chest look like naked?

Did he have hair dusting the sculpted muscles? Or was it smooth?

She stumbled back, blushing, and walked toward the front door, where she bounced on her heels as she waited for him to emerge.

The bedroom door opened moments later and he came out, dressed in blue jeans and a white t-shirt, carrying his black leather jacket. He walked over to her and held it open.

She looked at him, confused.

“Put it on...it’ll protect you from the wind.”

The idea of wearing his jacket made her tingle with happiness. But that was silly—it wasn’t like it meant anything—he wasn’t her high school beau giving her his letter jacket. Still, she ducked her head to hide her smile as she slid her arms into his jacket.

He turned her around and zipped it for her, all the way up to her chin.

“I do know how to zip things.”

“Don’t sass me or you’ll earn another trip over my knee before we go,” he said, making her belly flutter.

She kept her mouth shut, but wondered why he did things like that for her.

Was it because he still thought of her as too young to take care of her own basic needs?

That seemed ridiculous. She’d been thirteen years old when they met, old enough even then to zip a jacket or put her own napkin on her lap.

So why did he persist in treating her like a little girl? It seemed strange.

He put a helmet on her and buckled the strap beneath her chin. “You look cute,” he said, tweaking her nose.

She sniffed. Cute, huh? Not exactly the image she wanted to convey.

“Come on.” He picked up her hand and led her to the motorcycle. He climbed on and she swallowed, suddenly daunted by the big bike. He seemed to notice, because he said gently, “Don’t be scared, mouse. Hop on.”

She drew a breath and swung her leg over the bike, sliding onto the seat behind him.

“Put your arms around my waist.”

She placed her hands on his hips as he kicked the motorcycle into life.

He pulled one of her wrists across his waist. “You’re going to want to hang on,” he cautioned as the bike lurched forward.

She gasped and clung to him, losing all compunction about getting too close.

Pressing the front of her body against his back, she slid her hips forward until they touched his, winding both arms around his waist. The wind made her gasp for breath and squeeze her eyes shut.

Brad wore sunglasses, and she now understood why.

Her eyes watered as she blinked to take in the scenery whizzing by.

The ride was magnificent, terrifying and utterly thrilling at the same time. Sort of like Brad himself.