Razor: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance

It was hard to imagine that I came so close to losing her today. When I thought about that fucker’s hands on her body, my blood boiled with rage. He deserved every damn punch I gave him.

When I joined Anonymous, I’d joined it because the principles that they purported to believe in; to expose the rampant and growing corruption in Government and Corporate America. Not everything was on the up-and-up in how they got information, but blackmailing Politicians wasn’t on the list of by-laws.

Lately, they’d become blinded by their power, hacking into government and corporate systems gathering dirt. But instead of exposing it, they’d gotten greedy. I’d ignored it for as long as I could, but now I was caught in the middle.

I’d been thinking about getting out, but I had nowhere and no one to turn to. My old life was a distant memory, and I’d burned bridges disappearing the way that I did. After this whole shit storm was over, I’d have no choice, and I would need something, or someone, to dedicate my life to. And I knew just the girl.

The one I always loved.

The sudden realization unsettled me deeply.

“Helloooo?” Carly demanded, snapping me out of my reverie, waving her hands in front of my eyes. “Earth to Mason?”

I shook my head to clear away my muddled thoughts and emotions and grinned at her, not letting her on to my inner turmoil. I loved it so much when she was irritated. She was at her sexiest then.

“Relax, Carly,” I said, rubbing at my shoulder. It felt sore from where the bastard had gotten in a lucky punch. “Give it some time. I sent it to every major news outlet. They’re probably still gawking at the footage, trying to verify it.”

She glanced over at her laptop. “What if we just log in to make sure —”

“Absolutely not,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s too risky now — just sit tight and be patient.”

Carly bit her lower lip and looked worried. “All right,” she said resignedly. “Fine. I’m just a little anxious.”

You think?

She walked over to the couch and sat down right next to me, crossing her legs. I tried not to, but my eyes drifted down. Her legs looked so smooth, so creamy. I wanted to reach down and touch them, caress them, and run my hands up her skirt . . .

Blood rushed between my legs, and suddenly the room felt stifling hot. I adjusted the collar of my hoodie, feeling like I was going to burn up and sweat began beading at my temples.

Carly seemed to notice my agitation, placing a concerned hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay?” Her soft voice was like honey in my ear.

That did it, even her slightest touch. I jumped up from the couch. “I’ve got to take a shower,” I said hoarsely. I didn’t bother hiding my wood, there was no point. Besides, I wasn’t ashamed. I was proud that I was gifted and wasn’t afraid to flaunt it. Might as well make her feel uneasy right along with me.

“Why now?” she asked, seemingly unaware of the problem she’d just caused. “We’re supposed to be waiting for the news to break the story.”

I stabbed a finger against my hoodie. “I’ve got blood all over me, and it’s probably soaked through to my shirt. I don’t want to sit around with that fucker’s blood on me or wind up getting something smeared on your furniture.”

Carly waved away my concern. “Please, this shit? I could go get nicer stuff off the side of the road somewhere.” Her eyes drifted down to my blood-splattered sweater and they widened as if noticing the droplets for the first time, down to my crotch and then quickly back up to my face, her cheeks turning a rosy red. “Jesus. I can’t believe we drove all that way and I didn’t even notice your clothes are a mess.” Her words came out really fast, as if she was trying to hide the fact that she’d just looked at my crotch.

I grinned at her, amused by her embarrassment. “You were in a state of fear, that’s why.”

Carly’s cheeks were crimson and she looked like she was trying to will herself from looking back down again. “You’re probably right. Look, leave your shirt and sweater outside the bathroom. I’ll take them and try to scrub the blood out as best I can.”

When she saw the question in my eyes, she added sheeply, “No washer or dryer here yet. I just hand-wash a time or two until I need to go to a laundromat. ”

“Gotcha.” My eyes drifted back down to those smooth legs of hers and I noted the way her skirt was riding up her thigh. I could only imagine the treat that waited underneath . . .

“The towels are in the cabinet to your right once you step inside of the bathroom,” she said. Her eyes seemed to lose the battle and they darted to my bulge, which was stretched painfully against my jeans, and then averted quickly again.

I knew I could have her right then and there. She was right in front of me, wide-eyed and ripe for the taking. There was nothing stopping me from finally indulging in what I’d wanted to have for so long.

I could see the desire in her eyes. She’d succumb to my will as easily as all the rest. I could take her and give her a fucking she’d never forget.

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