me little by little.
Those electric sparks returned in no time. They radiated down to my toes and to the top of my head.
He bit my neck and then leaned into me.
“Hold on to the rail, honey,” he said.
I grabbed the rail as he came closer. I looked out on Paris at midnight. From the top of the Eiffel Tower.
And knew I was about to be fucked by my stepbrother. Fucked for the first time. Could it have been more horribly perfect?
His cock came to my entrance. The head throbbed on my sensitive lips. His hands anchored into my hips and tilted my waist back a little. The head pushed in, just enough to spread my little lips. He was so big.
“Is this what you want,” he asked.
“Yes, Jake.”
“Tell me Jules. Tell me how bad you want it.”
I felt horrible saying it. Felt like a dirty traitor. But I couldn’t stop myself.
“I want it Jake. I need your cock inside me. I need you to fuck me. Fuck my tight, little pussy. My sweet pussy that’s wanted only you since the day we met.”
“Beg for it Jules.”
“Please Jake. Please fuck me. I need your cock inside me. I need it now.”
* * * * *
CHAPTER ONE
I always dreamed of visiting Paris. You hear about how it’s the sexiest city in the world and, even if you totally believe it, it’s still just words. It’s still just words until you step foot out of your hotel and see the history in the graceful arches of Notre Dame, hear the buzz of passionate voices rise and fall, feel the uneven cobblestone streets underfoot, smell the freshly baked bread at every corner, and taste the pain au chocolat.
Oh, the pain au chocolat.
I never knew the gigantic hole in my life until I had my first pain au chocolat two days ago. Some French culinary wizard came up with the perfect combination of flaky crust and doughy inside mixed melted bit of chocolate inside.
We still had a few days of vacation left, but I already missed them. I missed them while eating them.
It was that bad.
I love food.
And I luuuuuv pain au chocolat.
Paris overwhelmed me. On its own, it would have been more than I could ingest.
But it wasn’t on its own.
He was here too.
Add him to the equation and the result was something that defied math. It was nature. That chemical signal that skirts right by your conscious thoughts and dives down into your gut.
Down into your panties.
My body vied with my good sense for control, for direction. It wanted to do things that I knew were wrong. Things I knew were immoral or unethical, or just bad somehow. But a growing part of me didn’t care. It felt. It wanted.
It wanted him .
Jacob MacCormack.
Or Jake, as he insisted family and friends call him.
My soon-to-be-stepbrother.
What messed up twist of fate made him so gorgeous, so hypnotic, and so my almost-stepbrother?
Figures.
Maybe I was destined to be a crazy, old cat lady. I loved cats. I could see that reality. I hadn’t had much interaction with the opposite sex in my exactly nineteen years. It was cool at first. Like I was saving myself for Mr. Right.
But the cool factor was wearing thin and crazy, cat lady approached.
At twenty-six, he was seven years older than me. But in the six months or so since our parents started dating, he immediately cast me in the role of baby sister. Like I was in diapers sucking my thumb. It really pissed me off.
Partly because I don’t need another older sibling. My sister Katherine was plenty bossy to go around. She left our home in Los Angeles two years ago to study in Barcelona. It was supposed to be a semester abroad thing. Then she met Raul and two years later, it looked like she might be there to stay.
I missed her. Terribly.
Not her bossy bullshit. By my sister.
I was happy she couldn’t make it to Paris though. I know that’s selfish, but I didn’t want her treating me like a baby around him . He didn’t need any encouragement in that regard.
It was like he took pleasure in pissing me off. I wouldn’t have cared, except that I