Stepbrother Soldier: A Forbidden Military Romance Novel by Emily Whittaker Read Free Book Online Page A

Christy. Just shut up. Your charmed little life…fuck, what
did you possibly think you could help me with? Just go back to your room and
work on your little fucking paper and your big stupid ideas of world peace and
goodwill for this whole fucked species,” Ashton said, turning back to me with
steely eyes.

 
    “My mother just died,” I said, baldly. “I know that’s not the same
but…I mean…my life isn’t so charmed, you know.”

 
    Ashton’s face softened. Not a lot, but enough for
me to notice. I saw my chance, and I took it.

 
    “I’m just saying, I know a little about how hard life can be. And you
can’t be happy just sitting in this room all day. And I’m here. I’m just down
the hall. Whenever you need, whatever need, you can just…just knock.”

 
    I let the offer stand in the silence of the room. Ashton picked up the
cigarette, which had been burning down to its butt, and squashed it out. The
quiet seemed heavy, eternal.

 
    “Did you know your mom used to send me your newspaper articles and
papers sometimes,” Ashton asked listlessly. I hadn’t known that.

 
    “Overseas?” I asked, surprised and curious. He
nodded, eyes on his lap.

 
    “I liked them. I liked…I liked knowing that you were home, safe, and
doing these things. That you could go to school and get educated and write
these…these nice things. Hopeful things. It helped. Knowing that I was there so
people like you could try and make sure no one would ever have to do what I was
doing again. I’d think, ‘Christy Starling is my stepsister, and she is going to
be president one day, and she’ll make the world a better place’. And it got me
through some long nights.”

 
    I was shocked. I hadn’t known that he read my articles, and I
certainly hadn’t known how highly he thought of them. Or me. I couldn’t think
of a single thing to say, even when he looked back up at me, his eyes wide and
soft and clear.

 
    “I should’ve written you more,” I said quietly, regretting all the
missed opportunities. Maybe if I had been a better stepsister, had made an
effort to keep up the friendship we’d started so long ago, we wouldn’t have to
have this conversation.

 
    “No, you were busy. You were busy making the world a better place
while I was just…” Ashton threw his hands up. “I was just fucking around in the
desert.”

 
    “But you…”

 
    “It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter now,” he said, shaking his head.
Impulsively, I reached out and grabbed his hand in mine, feeling the rough
skin, far too worn for someone his age. His hand jumped underneath mine at the
contact, but he didn’t pull it away. It felt warm, strong in mine. Our eyes
met, and it was like a channel was opened up between us. For the first time
since coming home, I felt like I could see the young man I’d known underneath
Ashton’s rough exterior.

 
    “It matters to me,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. And then,
suddenly, Ashton’s lips were on mine, and he was pressing against me, pushing
me down on the bed, his hands on my thighs. My mouth opened in surprise and I
felt the tip of his tongue tickling my own. I moaned as the sensation rocked
me, the slightest contact inciting a fiery rush inside me.

 
    Ashton’s hand flew to my hair, his fingers grasping at the strands,
our mouths now devouring each other, my body reacting while my mind was too
shocked to protest.

 
    Yes, this is what you want, my body said. No
what no no what is this, my mind stuttered. My hips rocked against the
mattress, my thighs inching open on their own, my pussy coming to life. He was
half-leaning on top of me, and I could feel that same hardness through his gym
shorts. This time, there was no mistaking it, and the thought of it only served
to confuse me further.

 
    Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. Ashton leapt off
me, turning his back and raising his hands to his face.

 
    “Just get out,