Razor: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance

“Shut up,” I said jokingly, unsure if she was just fucking with me. “I always thought you were annoyed for having to put up with me.”


“Seriously. I never told you but,” Carly continued as if she couldn’t help herself, “the day you pulled me out of that pond? Something changed that day.”

Warmth flowed through my chest at Carly’s words. Though I always tried to be the best stepbrother I could, I never knew if Carly liked me or hated me at times because of her bitchy demeanor.

“I remember that day,” I said softly, the image of holding her in my arms flashing in front of me. Carly had been so vulnerable that day, splashing around in the water so helplessly. Yet, when I pulled her out of the muddy water, all dirty and slimy, I thought I’d never seen anything so beautiful in life. “I don’t know what you were thinking.”

“Well, what did you expect? I wanted so badly to get you back.”

I chuckled. “You got me back alright! Slipped and fell your clumsy little ass in the dirty water. And you cried like a little bitch for whose help? Me!”

Carly slapped me playfully on the arm. “Hey now. You might have those ripped muscles, but I’ll sucker punch you while you’re driving.”

“Do it. I bet you hit like a bitch too!”

Carly continued to stare at me, and then she laughed. “I’ll pass. I don’t want to end up road kill just because you want to prove that you have a big dick.”

“But I do have a big dick.”

Just for you.

Carly blushed furiously, at a lost for words — just the reaction I was looking for.

I grinned at her embarrassment. Despite our grim situation, it almost felt like old times again where we used to play and laugh and then I’d ruin the moment by saying something inappropriate that would cause her to turn as red as a rose.

“So anyway,” Carly said, clearing her throat uncomfortably, her tone turning serious. “Don’t worry about me. I trust you, okay? I’m with you on this, no matter what happens.”

“Shit, where is the real Carly at? The Carly I used to know would never give me the benefit of the doubt.”

“Well besides the obvious benefit to my career and Ashley Collins’ killer being brought to justice, I’d rather not see you on the news dead in some ditch. I’m not sure how much help I’ll be, but I’m going to try.” Carly placed a hand on my thigh, rubbing it gently. “Besides, I think you’re doing the right thing.”

Fuck. Carly’s gentle hand on my thigh was doing crazy things to my body. I never got excited just from physical contact — that was fifteen-year-old teenage boy virgin type shit. But I couldn’t stop the heat that was spreading through my abs and down my happy trail and into my suddenly throbbing cock.

Is she doing this shit on purpose? I wondered. She’s practically got her hands on my balls!

“I hope you’re right,” I said hoarsely, trying to concentrate on the road and praying that Carly didn’t notice the growing bulge in my pants.

“I know I am,” Carly said softly, removing her hand. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to notice my problem, or she did a good job pretending not to notice. She was probably trying to get revenge for embarrassing her. “Rosemary deserves closure and Bradley needs to be brought to justice. I mean, who else is going to see that he pays for his crime? He has powerful allies trying to cover it up!”

I always knew that she was strong-willed, but seeing her determination even in the face of danger filled me with overwhelming pride. Though I do think she was being a bit naive — she had no idea what kind of danger she could be in.



Madeline





“I’ve got a lock on Razor,” Andre announced, looking up from his laptop where moments ago he’d been banging on the keyboard like a madman.

I stopped pacing the living room of my apartment, relief sweeping through my breasts. Finally I could confront Razor. Finally, I could make him pay for humiliating me and ruining my life.

I’ll make him beg for forgiveness, I thought darkly, before I make him beg for his life.

The thought of turning that cocky smile of his into a mask of fear filled me with joy. Oh how wonderful it would be to get him back. Revenge would be oh so sweet. Sweet as cherry pie with fucking whip cream on top.

“Good,” I growled, “you finally did something useful in your life. Let’s go.” I moved toward the door, filled with giddy excitement. On the way, I’d relish thinking about all the ways I’d torture him.

Andre ignored my insult, which was wise. I was ready to kill anything that defied me. “Wait,” he said, stopping me dead in my tracks.

I scowled darkly, bunching my palms into fists as I turned to regard Andre. “What?” I hissed venomously.

He turned his gaze back to his laptop screen. “He’s near James University. It’s fifty miles away. It’ll take us at least an hour to get there even if we speed. He’ll be long gone by then,” Andre explained.

Lauren Landish's books