Stepbrother's Rules: A 1950's Ageplay Romance Page 3

  He grinned. “But I’m not a sweet girl like you.”

  At that moment, someone tapped at the door and Mrs. Verlaine called out, “Hello? Brad?” Of course she’d be snooping over here if she heard a female voice.

  He quickly threw a dish towel over the burn mark on the counter and crossed the room to open the door. “Hello Mrs. V.” He gave her his most charming smile.

  She craned her head around the doorjamb to take in LuAnn, who was scrambling to clean up the spilled eggs. “Well, what is this?”

  “Mrs. V, this is my little sister, LuAnn. LuAnn, Mrs. V, my landlady. LuAnn is a student at Sarah Wharton, but she was having a hard time getting serious about her studies while living in the dorm, so our parents thought it would be best if she finished the last few weeks of the semester living with me.”

  Mrs. Verlaine gaped. “Your sister?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t see any resemblance.” She peered at LuAnn suspiciously.

  “No, she takes after her father and I take after my mother,” he said, which was not a lie. He laid what he hoped was another devastating grin on the nosy woman.

  “How long will she be here? There’s only one bedroom.” She glanced at the couch, which thankfully still sported a pillow and blanket from his night’s rest.

  “Just a month. I’m sleeping on the couch and letting her have the bedroom.”

  “Will I be washing her clothes, too?”

  “I will do the laundry,” LuAnn interjected. “Both of ours. It’s the least I can do.”

  “I see...well, you’ll be using extra water and electricity with two people.”

  “Oh, I doubt it will amount to much difference in your bill, but if it does, I’m sure you’ll inform me,” he said evenly.

  She craned her neck around for one more curious look, then withdrew. “Well, we’ll talk about it later, then.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He waited, looking at her with an impassive face until she backed out and turned around. “Have a nice weekend, Mrs. Verlaine.”

  “Thank you,” she said, but did not wish him the same.

  He shut the door and rolled his eyes.

  LuAnn picked up the frying pan and turned on the water in the sink, scrubbing it with a fierceness it didn’t deserve.

  He walked over and gently clasped her shoulders. “Thank you for making breakfast.”

  Her shoulders sagged. “I didn’t mean to burn the laminate. What do you think will happen?”

  “I’ll probably have to pay for it. It was an accident, mouse, I’m not mad.”

  “I’m sorry I made a mess.” Her eyes filled with tears.

  He smiled and touched her nose. She was being silly and he found it endearing. “You cleaned it up. It’s over. Are you going to try again, or are we eating toast for breakfast?”

  She swiped a tear with the back of her hand and squared her shoulders. “I’ll try again. Oh, wait,” she said, slumping. “You’re out of eggs.”

  He gave her a reassuring grin. “Toast it is, then. How about I make it while you get dressed?”

  “Yes, sir,” she said, sending a thrill of excitement straight to his cock. She looked so sweet in her nightgown with her head bowed in submission. He glanced at her breasts shifting underneath the thin fabric. Why were her nipples hard? He stepped back and allowed her to pass him before he did something stupid like pin her against the kitchen counter and screw her until she screamed.

  He made the toast, slathering on a thick layer of butter and jam and cutting them into little triangles, as if she was a small child. He set them at the table with a glass of milk. For some reason, he was getting into the caretaking role with her. When she came out, he held out her chair for her, smirking when she winced sitting down. He placed a napkin on her lap. She looked up at him, blushing.

  He shrugged and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “Eat up, sweetheart.”

  * * *

  Brad had her so mixed up and befuddled, she hardly remembered how to speak. The fact that he treated her like a child infuriated her...except that she rather enjoyed being the center of his attention. Had he really cut her toast into little squares? Did he think she was six years old?

  Her bottom still tingled from the swats he’d landed on it for swearing, so sitting on the hard wooden chair hurt her tender cheeks. She watched Brad’s tall, broad-shouldered figure as he moved about the kitchen, cleaning up the rest of her mess, and scrubbing the burn mark on the counter as he made his own toast. Just watching his muscular form and the chiseled lines of his jaw brought butterflies to her belly.

  It was odd to see a man so efficient in the kitchen, but she supposed he’d lived on his own for six years now. She wondered if he had girlfriends over much. Probably not, if that was how his landlady reacted to guests. That thought came as a distinct relief.

  When he finished buttering his toast, he plopped down across from her.

  “Why did you move away instead of staying with us during college?” She’d hated when he left, and then he hardly visited, staying away despite the fact that he only lived two hours away.

  “I’m not like Brian. I don’t kiss authority’s ass, and I don’t particularly like living under another man’s rule. Your dad wanted to help us, I know, but I couldn’t bear to be taken under his wing like Brian.” A muscle in his jaw tightened. “All the advice and admonishments—It just wasn’t my thing.”

  “You don’t like my dad, do you?”

  He chewed a bit of toast and swallowed before he spoke. “It’s not that. Yeah, I was mad at my mom for getting married after my dad died. But it wasn’t your pop’s fault. He makes her happy and he provides her with a good life, so I have no right to complain. I was still a kid when we moved in together, even though I thought I was a man.”

  She’d thought he was a man, too. “You sure made things harder on yourself by insisting on working your own way through college.”

  He laid one of his lazy grins on her. “See that’s the part your old man never understood. I don’t mind hard work. I’d just rather work my tail off and be my own man than be under the thumb of someone else.”

  “But now you have a boss at the architecture firm who you have to please, right?”

  He looked chagrined. “I do. But I plan to open my own architecture firm as soon as I have enough experience. I definitely wasn’t made to do another man’s bidding.”

  She considered whether she was. She hadn’t given one whit about Mrs. McCormick’s rules when she’d lived in the dorm, but something about Brad made her want to do everything he asked. As if Brad knew her thoughts, his eyes swept over her face and down to her breasts with a predatory gaze. Her neck grew warm. What would Brad’s bidding be? She’d be living here under his rules, and he’d already made it clear what the consequences for disobedience would be. Her sex contracted, thinking about the bare-bottomed session over his knees and his threat to make her stand in the corner with her panties down.

  “Make me that list of your class times and schedule, because those will be the only times you’re allowed out of this apartment without special permission.”

  “You were serious about grounding me?”

  “Yes, young lady, I was.”

  “But, Brad, I can hardly get into any trouble staying here with you. Surely there’s no need…” she trailed off at his dark look.

  “You’re grounded. And you know what will happen if you defy me, don’t you?” He arched a brow.

  She swallowed hard. “Okay.”

  “And we’ll have to drive back to Sarah Wharton to pick up my bike.” He stood up and picked up her plate, as well as his.

  “I can get those,” she said, jumping up.

  He turned and gave her a lopsided grin. “Are you sure? I’m not certain I trust you in my kitchen anymore.”

  She snatched them away, wanting to prove her usefulness. She would cook and clean for him for the duration of her stay, just like a housewife. The idea cheered her. Playing house with Brad s
ounded like a delightful game.

  She washed the dishes while he cleaned up in the bathroom, and they headed out. He drove her car again, of course. It didn’t bother her, she rather liked sitting beside him, pretending they were on a date. As they drove, they passed a clearing where large tents and colorful carnival banners waved.

  Before she remembered to be a sophisticated young lady, she drew in a delighted gasp. “Look! A carnival!”

  Brad turned and grinned at her. “Do you like carnivals?”

  She nibbled her lip, wondering if she was acting too childish. Giving a nonchalant shrug, she said, “Well, they can be fun, you know, with the right people.”

  He laughed, and she suspected he saw through her. “Well, considering you’ve been so naughty, I shouldn’t indulge you, but if you spend the rest of the day studying, then tomorrow I’ll take you after church.”

  “Really? You’d take me yourself?” She beamed at him. “Can we go on your motorcycle?”

  He looked amused. “We’ll see. You have to behave yourself today, though, got it?”

  “I will. I will study all day, I promise.”

  He chucked her chin. “That’s my girl.”

  “You sound like my father.”

  He smirked. “Well, you’ve heard of in loco parentis? I’m in charge of you right now, which means I’m acting in place of your father. You’re welcome to call me Daddy-O.”

  She giggled. “Okay, Daddy.” It sounded wrong and right and somewhat naughty to call him that.

  * * *

  He didn’t know what had made him say it—the daddy thing just slipped out—but when the word came out of his lips, a dark thrill lit through him. LuAnn had always been off-limits, her status as sister made her untouchable, which only seemed to make the attraction between them stronger.

  True to her word, LuAnn studied all afternoon. She also insisted on making dinner, which consisted of chicken sandwiches, pickles and potato salad. He sat down to eat with her.

  “Thank you for making dinner, mouse.”

  She beamed. “I plan to earn my keep by cooking and cleaning.”

  He shoveled a bite of potato salad into his mouth and began to chew, then froze when his tooth struck a very crunchy potato.

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” he said, trying not to laugh.

  Brow furrowed, she took a bite. “Oh no,” she groaned. “What did I do wrong?”

  He spit the food into his napkin and smirked. “Did you boil the potatoes first?”

  She frowned, her face flushing. “You’re supposed to boil them?”

  “Yes, mouse.” He chuckled.

  Her shoulders sagged.

  “I guess I need to buy you the Betty Crocker cookbook that no household is without these days,” he said with a wink.

  She snatched his plate away and stomped to the kitchen. “You do not!” She scraped the potato salad off his plate and returned it, dropping it unceremoniously in front of him.

  He narrowed his eyes in warning. “Don’t be embarrassed. It was a simple mistake.”

  “Don’t tell me how to feel.”

  “Watch your tone, little girl.”

  She stomped on his toes with force enough to hurt them.

  “Uh-oh,” he said, scooting his chair back.

  She immediately retreated, probably suspecting his intent. He caught her wrist and pulled her forward, face down over his knees. She pounded on his legs. “Stop it! Let me up!”

  “Quiet down, mouse, or you’ll have Mrs. V over here to witness your spanking. I don’t think you’d like that, would you?”

  “Stop it,” she repeated, although she did lower her voice.

  He flipped her long poodle skirt up her back. “I will not tolerate tantrums or disrespect while you’re in my household,” he said. “And I rather enjoy spanking you, mouse, so you’d be wise to be remember it.” Since he’d done it once, he went straight to pulling her panties down, ignoring her hand flailing behind to cover her delightful rump. He began to spank her fast and hard, punishing her flesh with firm slaps. Right side, left side, middle, he alternated his target each time. Setting up a steady rhythm as she bucked and writhed on his lap. His cock grew hard at the sight of her.

  “Ow...please!” she squeaked.

  He kept at it, even though his hand stung.

  Her wiggling caused her hips to rub against his hardened cock, tormenting him with the sensation. He brought his hand down on the back of her thigh, four times in the exact same place and she howled between clenched teeth. He gave the other side the same treatment. “That was very naughty, mouse.”

  “Sor-ry!” she wailed. “Please stop.”

  He didn’t want to stop. It felt too good to apply his palm to her perfect ass, turning her milky white skin to pink.

  “Please?” she begged, kicking her legs.

  Like the night before, he saw evidence of her arousal on the glossy lips of her sex. The urge to touch her there sent a wave of feverish heat pouring through his body. He stopped spanking and closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath.

  “I’m sorry,” she gasped again. “Please.”

  He opened his eyes again, finding control. Running his hand over her warmed cheeks, he caressed her curves. “Naughty girls will be punished, mouse.” Of their own accord, his fingers brushed the outer lips of her sex.

  She went still.

  He circled her bottom again, once more allowing one of his fingers to brush her feminine charms.

  Her legs fell open.

  His breath stalled in his chest. He circled again, this time taking his middle finger slowly and deliberately up the slit of her pussy. Her nectar coated his finger, the slickness making his cock jerk to be inside her.

  A small sound came out of her mouth—something like a moan.

  He needed to stop this right away, before he did something even more inappropriate. Lifting her up, he stood her between his knees. Remembering her panties were still tangled around her thighs, he hiked up her skirt, getting a glimpse of her silky thatch of curls and the frontal view of her pussy. He pulled her panties up and held her thighs, under the skirt. He liked the sensation of her bare skin under his fingers. He stroked down her legs and back up again.

  Her knees trembled but she held still for him, her eyes wide and focused on his face. “I’m sorry,” she murmured again.

  He forced himself to drop his hands. “It’s over, mouse,” he said. “Let’s eat this nice dinner you made us.”

  She blushed and tugged at her sweater set, straightening imaginary wrinkles.

  He stood and brushed away the tears on her cheeks. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her in for an embrace and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “Cooking will get easier, I promise. This way you’ll be all ready for a husband when the time comes.” He said it lightly, but the words stuck in his throat like glue. The idea of her marrying made him close his hands into tight balls. No man would be good enough for LuAnn or treat her the way she deserved to be treated.

  * * *

  LuAnn sat wearing her pillbox hat and white gloves between Brian and Brad at church the next day, proud to be with the pair of handsome, broad-shouldered men. They both would be considered fine catches in their own right. Brian was the serious lawyer who hardly ever emerged from his work. He had the same blue eyes and dark wavy hair as Brad, but their personalities were completely different. Brad was carefree and easygoing while Brian played everything straight as a pin.

  She hadn’t been to her stepbrothers’ church before, either attending the campus chapel or driving home for the weekend and worshipping there.

  She received a number of curious looks, and a few nasty ones from some eligible young women who must have considered her to be a threat. After the service, a few of them came over. Brad rested his hand at her low back, a gesture which surprised her.

  “Hello, Brad,” said a young woman with red hair and a ponytail so high it looked like an antenna sticking out of the top of her head. Sh
e batted her eyelashes in a simpering fashion that made LuAnn want to shove her into the closest mud puddle.

  “Hi, Becky.” Brad played it cool, leaning forward to offer his cheek for a kiss without disengaging his hand from LuAnn’s back.

  Becky stared at LuAnn pointedly.

  “This is LuAnn,” he said.

  She waited for him to add my kid sister, or my little sister, but to her satisfaction, he didn’t. Maybe he wanted Becky to think they were a couple because he didn’t want to court her interest. Well, she would be a willing party to any such deception.

  She glanced at Brian, who smiled at a pretty blonde. “That’s Sally,” Brad said in an undertone. He had leaned his head toward hers so they both looked together. It also served to snub Becky, as she clearly wasn’t part of the conversation. “Brian is sweet on her. I expect they’ll be engaged before the end of summer.”

  She smiled, both happy to see Brian in love and delighting in the closeness and shared secret with Brad.

  Becky sniffed and flounced away.

  “Ex-girlfriend of yours?”

  “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.”