stepbrother rules { his twisted games}

chapter 1

Cole

It started the day I almost saw her naked.

Of course, it really started way before that, with a complicated history and dark secrets that spun together to create a tangled web of attraction that both of us were helpless to resist. We were drawn to each other because of that history, because of our shared past.

She was my soulmate, in every sense of the word. It wasn't just sexual, even though the sex was the best I'd ever had. It was beyond that, a love that transcended everything, that took over my soul and consumed me in ways I'd never imagined.

The reasons we needed to be together are our prologue.

The reasons we couldn't are our epilogue.

So let me start with chapter one.

The bachelor party.

My friend Duke was getting married, and we were at a strip club in Jersey celebrating one of his last nights of freedom. It wasn't the kind of place I usually visited - I tended to prefer clubs in the city, upscale places where you didn't have to worry about some asshole getting drunk and starting a fistfight or getting too grabby with the women. At strip clubs in the city, the women were model-gorgeous and everything was classy and tasteful. The distasteful stuff-namely the fucking for money - took place in private VIP suites that were done up to look like a hotel room at The Plaza.

This place - the place in Jersey that Duke had picked - was rowdy and out of control. Everyone in the place was pounding cheap beer, and everywhere you looked guys were copping a feel, even though the club claimed to be 'look but don't touch.'

"I want to fuck that one over there," Duke said, pointing to a young girl with long blonde hair who was sitting on a middle-aged man's lap. "Her fucking ass is just begging for my dick."

The lights dimmed then, saving me from a response.

I turned my attention toward the stage as a hot little brunette came waltzing out. She was wearing a tiny white bikini that strained over her round tits, her nipples clearly outlined through the fabric. The bottom was tied together by two tiny strings, her legs long and lean, her stomach flat and tan.

My cock instantly got hard. I usually didn't get too worked up over strippers - I'd never had a problem getting beautiful women, and strip clubs were just too much of a tease when I could have the real thing anytime I wanted - but this girl's body was insane. I imagined my hands caressing her as I untied the top of her bikini, how nice those big titties would feel in my hands.

The music started and the spotlight shone on the stage.

The girl swung around the pole, her dark curls streaming behind her.

And I choked on my beer.

I knew her.

It was my stepsister, Avery.

I hadn't seen her in five years, when I'd left home at twenty-one and never looked back.

Jesus, she'd grown up. Her body was filled out, her hips curvy, her ass tight and toned.

She smiled at the crowd and Duke whistled.

"Yeah, baby," he yelled. "Show us that ass."

Avery obliged, leaning over until her ass was in the air, tight and toned. She was twenty-two now, old enough to be a stripper, I supposed. But what the fuck? I was confused as to why she was working here. Avery had always been smart, making straight As in school despite our parents' total lack of interest in anything academic.