Hot For My New Stepbrother

Aurelia

In twenty years of living, I'd learned exactly what my life could and couldn't throw at me.

But my mother remarrying was never on that list.

Her marrying my bully's father? That felt less like fate and more like a cruel joke with teeth.

"No, Mum. You can't do this." My voice cracked before I could stop it. I stood there, my palms sweating, with my heart racing like it wanted to claw its way out of my chest.

"We're fine. We've always been fine. If this is about me, if you think I need some kind of father figure, then stop. I don't."

I hated the way I sounded. Desperate and small.

But the image in my head wouldn't leave me alone.

Chase Hunter.

Living with him, breathing the same air, sharing walls and one roof with him. The thought lodged between my ribs like a blade.

Chase wasn't just a bad memory from college, he was my worst one. A senior who had taken one look at me and decided I was his personal stress relief.

Every hallway, every lecture hall, every chance encounter had come with that same sharp smile, that same predatory calm, like he knew he could do whatever he wanted and get away with it.

Because he could.

Chase Hunter was rich. Untouchably rich. His father was one of the wealthiest men in the state, and money wrapped around that family like armor.

My mother's eyes hardened, the warmth draining out of them as she crossed her arms. "Who said I'm doing this because of you?"

The words hit harder than I expected.

"I'm doing this because of us," she continued, her tone sharp, practical and final. "We need stability. We need money. And Darlington Hunter has plenty of it." She paused, then added, cool and unflinching, "Think about what that kind of access can do for us."

I stared at her, my chest tight, a sinking feeling spreading through me.

My mother wasn't choosing love, she was choosing survival.

And in the process, she was tying my life to the one person I'd spent years trying to escape.

"Just because you want to live like the Real Housewives of New York doesn't mean you get to ruin my life, Mum! You can't-"

The slap came out of nowhere.

One second I was talking, the next her palm cracked against my cheek with a sharp, hollow sound. I didn't even see it coming.

My head snapped to the side. Pain bloomed hot and immediate in my cheek, and I tasted blood where my teeth sank into my tongue.

I swallowed hard, forcing the sob back down, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing me break.

The room rang with silence.

Her voice was like ice. "You don't have any say in this, Aurelia."

I slowly turned my head back, my cheek burning, my chest tight.

"Darlington has already proposed," she continued, each word precise and merciless. "And tomorrow, we're moving into his mansion."

Tomorrow. The word echoed in my skull like a death sentence.

I laughed, a short, hollow and almost hysterical sound. "Then you'll be moving in alone."

Her eyes flickered, just for a second.

"I'll find another apartment," I said, my voice shaking but firm. I ignored the sting on my skin, the ache in my chest. "I don't care where. I'll sleep on a couch if I have to."

Anything was better than that house. Anything was better than living under the same roof as Chase Hunter.

My mother burst into derisive laughter.

"You won't be finding anything," she said.

I frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She walked past me, calm as ever, and opened the drawer beneath the console table. When she straightened, she was holding a thin brown envelope.

My stomach dropped.

"I paid your tuition deposit this morning," she said lightly. "I transferred it directly from Darlington's account."

The air left my lungs.

"You needed my documents," she continued. "Your originals, birth certificate, academic records, they're all in the safe."

I took a step back. "You can't do that."

She tilted her head. "I already did."

Then she reached into the drawer again. And pulled out my father's watch.

No. The one thing I never let out of my sight. The leather strap was worn from years of use.

I could still remember how it felt on his wrist when he lifted me onto his shoulders. I hadn't realized I was holding my breath until my lungs started to burn.

My chest tightened painfully.

"You leave," she said calmly, curling her fingers around it, "and this stays."

I stared at her, my heart hammering, trapped between rage and panic.

She gave me a thin smile.

"You'll move into that house tomorrow, Aurelia," she said. "Or you forget about your education."

The room felt smaller, the walls pressing in on me.

I couldn't leave without my education. And I couldn't leave without the last thing my father ever gave me.

It hurt in a way I wasn't prepared for, that my own mother could do this to me. She hadn't always been like this.

Once, she'd been warm, protective, someone I trusted without thinking twice. Now, her hunger for wealth and recognition had hollowed her out, leaving behind someone I barely recognized.

I forced myself to breathe through the tightness in my chest. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to grab my things and run before she could stop me.

Instead, I swallowed it all.

"Fine," I said, my voice coming out quieter than I meant it to. "We'll move in tomorrow."

Her face lit up instantly, satisfaction smoothing away every trace of tension. She smiled like she'd just won something she'd never doubted was hers.

"Good girl," she said.

Then her expression sharpened, the warmth vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. "Don't try anything funny."

She stepped closer, lowering her voice. "Chase is going to be your big brother, and Aurelia, if you try to cause trouble, if you try to ruin this for us, I will break you."

The words were calm. Measured. Terrifying.

"I may be your mother," she continued, her eyes hard and unwavering, "but don't mistake that for weakness. I won't hesitate to teach you a lesson if I have to. Do you understand?"

I nodded.

Not because I was afraid of her. But because I needed her to believe I was compliant.

Because sometimes, survival meant knowing when to bend and when to wait.

She turned away, her heels striking the floor as she walked off, each sharp click echoing through the house like a countdown.

Tomorrow, everything would change.

Throughout the night, sleep refused to come. I tossed and turned beneath the sheets, my mind replaying every moment Chase Hunter had made my college life unbearable.

The next day, a convoy of sleek black cars rolled up to our house.

Men in dark suits stepped out, efficient and silent, and suddenly our small, familiar space felt embarrassingly out of place.

The drive was long and quiet. My mother stared out the window like she was already rehearsing a new life, while I sat stiffly beside her, counting each mile like it was carrying me farther from safety.

When the gates of the Hunters' villa finally opened, my breath caught.

The place looked less like a home and more like a private resort. Vast white stone stretching beneath the sun, towering glass windows, manicured lawns so perfect they didn't look real, and fountains that glittered as the car rolled past them.

The vehicle curved along a wide driveway, crunching softly over pale gravel before coming to a smooth stop beneath an arched entrance. The doors opened immediately, as if the house itself had been waiting for us.

The escorts moved quickly, lifting our bags with practiced ease and disappearing inside. My mother followed them, already issuing instructions, already acting like she belonged.

I lingered. Curiosity or maybe dread pulled me away from the entrance. I wandered down a side corridor lined with glass until warm air and the faint scent of chlorine brushed against my skin.

The swimming pool lounge opened up before me, bright and expansive, sunlight dancing across the water's surface. For a brief second, I let myself forget why I was here.

Then I took one step forward and I slipped, and then I collided with solid, unyielding muscle. I froze.

A strong arm reached around my waist to steady me, and I froze.

Slowly, painfully, my gaze lifted.

Chase Hunter stood in front of me, shirtless, water trailing down his chest and clinging to his skin like it belonged there. His dark hair was damp, pushed back carelessly, droplets sliding from his jaw to his collarbone.

His eyes met mine and his expression darkened instantly. The faint curve of his mouth disappeared, replaced by a look of pure revulsion, hatred flaring in his frosty grey eyes like a sudden storm.

"You," he spat.

My stomach dropped. My worst nightmare had found me. And this time, there was nowhere to run.

Aurelia

Chase leaned down, his six-foot-five frame eclipsing everything behind him. His shoulders blocked the light, turning the air between us heavy and close.

My mouth went dry. When I licked my lips, his gaze followed the movement with unsettling precision.

I tried to step back., but I was too slow.

His hand closed around my throat, not tight enough to crush, but firm enough to warn. He drove me backward until my spine met the wall, the impact knocking the breath from my lungs.

"What are you doing on my property, Little Lamb?" he growled.

I met his stare instead of answering. My pulse thundered in my ears, but I refused to look away.

His fingers tightened around my throat, a calculated pressure meant to intimidate me.

I forced air into my lungs. "Let. Go."

His thigh shifted forward, caging me in, cutting off any easy escape.

The heat radiating from him was oppressive, a reminder of how easily he could overpower me, but my traitorous body leaned into his warmth, craving more.

"Careful," he said quietly, his voice rough. "Defiance is a dangerous habit."

Fear clawed at my chest, but I held my ground. If I gave him panic, he'd feed on it. If I gave him silence, he'd have to decide what to do next.

"We moved in, now let me go." I said, ignoring the way my heart was pounding wildly in my chest.

For a split second, shock cracked through his expression. His fingers loosened, just slightly.

"What the fuck?" he muttered, his grey eyes darkening as they narrowed. "Your mother tricked my father into proposing to her, didn't she?" He asked in a deep, feral baritone that sent shivers dancing on my skin.

I couldn't answer, his body was so close to mine that even breathing felt reckless. The slightest movement would cause my chest to brush his arm.

And I wasn't wearing a bra. My breasts were bare beneath the thin fabric of my dress, and I was acutely, humiliatingly aware of it.

"What's going on there, Chase?" a female voice cut in from behind him.

He released me immediately, stepping back as if I'd burned him. Space rushed in between us.

A girl about my age approached, water glistening on her skin, her long legs slick from the pool. So they'd been swimming together. Of course they had.

"Oh, nothing," Chase said easily, his mouth twisting into a sneer. "I was just helping my new stepsister find the garden house."

His eyes flicked to mine, sharp and knowing, a warning wrapped in mockery.

The girl lifted a brow but didn't comment.

"Alright then," she said lightly. "You promised you'd take me out on your new bike. I'm ready now, babe."

Before Chase turned away, he caught my arm, his fingers biting just enough to remind me he could do worse. He leaned down, his mouth close to my ear.

"Stay out of my way, Little Lamb," he murmured. "Or I'll be the big bad wolf who eats you."

His lips brushed the shell of my ear.

And to my horror, my fear fractured and twisted into something dangerously close to anticipation.

He let me go and walked away with her.

She didn't follow immediately. Instead, she lingered, studying me with open suspicion.

"He doesn't like you," she said bluntly. "So get that into your head and avoid him."

Her mouth twisted as she continued, each word edged with contempt.

"You might be his stepsister now, but to him? You're just the daughter of a money-hungry whore." She clicked her tongue before walking away to join Chase.

With unsteady legs, I made my way back to my mother. She was standing beside the man who would soon be my stepfather, Darlington Hunter.

He was an older, softened version of Chase. Same bone structure, same presence, but dulled by age and excess, his stomach straining slightly against his tailored shirt.

I wondered, not for the first time, what my mother saw in him. He had looks, yes. Money, definitely. But whatever else there was felt hollow.

"Aurelia," she said brightly when she noticed me, her hand sliding possessively over his chest, "say hello to your daddy."

The word made my stomach churn.

"He's not my daddy," I hissed.

Darlington chuckled, unbothered, as if I hadn't just stripped the word of any warmth it pretended to carry. He extended his hand toward me.

I ignored it.

My mother's stare drilled into my forehead, sharp and furious, but I didn't look away. Darlington simply let his hand fall.

"Nice to meet you, Aurelia," he said pleasantly. "Your mother has told me beautiful things about you."

When he smiled, two gold teeth flashed under the light.

I folded my arms. "Oh? I wish I could say the same."

My mother's eyes narrowed.

"She's just having one of her nonsense mood swings," she said quickly, laughing it off. "You know how girls are."

Darlington's phone rang before I could respond. He kissed my mother on the lips, then excused himself.

He hadn't taken more than five steps when my mother's arm swung.

I saw it coming. I didn't flinch when her palm connected with my cheek.

"I warned you, Aurelia," she snapped. "But you never listen. Stubborn. Just like your father."

"He'd be heartbroken," I said quietly, my face burning. "Watching you sell yourself to rich men."

Her hand clamped around my arm, twisting hard enough to make pain bloom.

"Don't forget," she said through clenched teeth, "I have all your papers. Misbehave, and I'll throw you out."

She released me and walked away as if nothing had happened.

I held the tears until she disappeared into the Hunters' gigantic mansion.

The roar of an engine shattered the moment.

I turned just in time to see Chase astride his bike, revving the engine. The machine gleamed beneath him, expensive, powerful, untouchable. Just like him.

Before he pulled the helmet on, our eyes locked.

His grey gaze hardened instantly, turning cold and unyielding. He lifted two fingers and dragged them slowly across his throat in a silent, mocking warning.

Beside him, his girlfriend hopped on the bike, her mouth set in a permanent scowl.

I watched as Chase sped off, his leather jacket snapping in the wind as he disappeared down the road.

I was in his world now.

And whether I wanted it or not, I would have to survive it.

I busied myself with unpacking until late into the night. I was halfway through my shower when the water abruptly died.

Then the lights went out.

A crack of thunder split the air, followed by lightning so close it rattled the walls. I flinched, pressing a hand to my chest as my heartbeat skidded out of rhythm.

There was a storm?

I stood there for several minutes, shivering beneath the dead spray, waiting for the lights to flicker back on. They didn't.

The cold crept in slowly, insistently, until my teeth began to chatter.

Blinded by darkness, I reached for my towel and wrapped it tightly around myself.

Careful not to slip, I stepped out of the shower and into my new bedroom.

The tiles were slick beneath my feet, unfamiliar and unwelcoming.

Maybe my mother would know what had happened, whether this was just another inconvenience or something worse.

The hallway beyond my door was swallowed in black.

I stretched my hands out in front of me, my fingers brushing along the wall as I edged forward.

I couldn't even see my own hands. Every sound felt amplified, the distant rumble of thunder, the soft pad of my footsteps, the uneven rhythm of my breathing.

The sound of boots pounding the floor caused me to stop abruptly. Someone was coming, but I didn't know if the person was approaching behind me or ahead.

Shit. I was naked underneath this towel, and it was too dark to see who it was. I had to turn around.

The footsteps grew louder, closer. I couldn't just stand there like a scared little chicken, so I walked faster, heading back to my room.

Thunder cracked so hard and loud that it rattled the windows, a violent boom that seemed to shake the entire mansion.

I flinched, my heart slamming against my ribs, and in that split second of distraction, my bare foot slipped on the slick marble floor.

I stumbled forward, my arms flailing for balance that wasn't there.

Strong hands caught me, too late to stop the fall, but enough to twist us mid-air.

We crashed together onto the cold hallway floor, my back hitting the marble with a jolt that knocked the breath from my lungs.

My stupid towel unraveled in the chaos, slipping from my wet skin like a traitor.

For one endless heartbeat, everything was pure darkness.

Then the lights snapped back on, harsh and unforgiving, flooding the corridor in blinding white.

Chase Hunter was sprawled over me, his heavy body pinning mine to the floor, one muscular thigh wedged firmly between my legs.

Aurelia

His hands gripped my bare waist, his long fingers digging into my damp skin with bruising force, as if he'd meant to shove me away but couldn't quite bring himself to let go.

Water still clung to my body from the interrupted shower; droplets traced slow paths down my collarbone, over the curve of my breasts, disappearing beneath the press of his chest.

I was completely exposed, the towel tangled uselessly somewhere beneath us, and the shock of it burned hotter than any embarrassment I'd ever felt.

His dark hair was tousled, falling into those storm-grey eyes that were locked on mine with predatory intensity.

His breath came in sharp, uneven bursts against my lips. The heat rolling off him was overwhelming, chasing away the chill of the storm and replacing it with something far more dangerous.

For a moment, neither of us moved.

His gaze dropped, slowly and hungrily, raking over my naked chest, my parted thighs, the way his leg pressed intimately against me.

When his eyes flicked back to mine, the hatred was still there, sharp and vicious, but it was tangled now with raw, undeniable hunger.

His jaw clenched so tight I could hear the grind of his teeth.

"Get off me," I whispered, but my voice came out breathless, trembling.

My hands shoved at his chest, broad, hard, and scorching hot beneath the thin fabric of his black t-shirt, but he didn't budge.

Instead, his grip on my waist tightened, thumbs brushing the sensitive skin just below my ribs in a way that felt less like restraint and more like possession.

"You're in my house," he growled, voice low and rough, vibrating through me where our bodies touched. "Naked. And on my floor. Begging to be fucked, Little Lamb?"

The crude words hit like a slap, igniting fury and something darker, something that made my hips shift involuntarily against his thigh.

A spark of treacherous heat flared low in my belly, and I hated myself for it.

I arched up, trying to push him away, but the movement only brought my breasts flush against his chest, my nipples hardening at the friction.

A low, involuntary sound escaped my throat.

His eyes darkened impossibly further, pupils blown wide.

One hand slid up my side, stopping just beneath the swell of my breast, close enough that his knuckles grazed the underside, sending a jolt straight through me.

"Careful," he murmured, his full sensuous lips brushing the shell of my ear as thunder rolled again outside. "Keep moving like that, and I won't be gentle."

His hips rocked forward once, letting me feel exactly how hard he already was.

My breath caught, a helpless gasp that betrayed me completely.

And in that moment, pinned beneath my worst enemy, naked and shaking with a mix of terror and want I couldn't name, I realized the real danger wasn't the storm raging outside.

It was the one he'd just unleashed between us.

His mouth hovered a fraction from mine, his fierce eyes burning with promise and threat.

"I hate you, I hate you with every fibre of my being." he said in a throaty whisper, his hot breath fanning my face.

"I hate you thrice as much. I hate you with my body and soul." I told him without flinching.

His eyes burned with a feral intensity that both warmed and chilled me, and then the lights flickered once more, plunging us back into darkness just as his lips crashed against mine.

Oh. My. God. Chase tasted like whiskey, sin and danger mixed together.

Then, without warning, he broke the kiss and moved away from me like I'd burned him.

"Go to your room now, little lamb, or I'll devour you to pieces."

I didn't need to be told. It was too dark to start trying to cover myself up. I ran with the towel tangled around my legs to my room. I wrenched the door open, got in and locked it behind him.

Chase Hunter kissed me. My new stepbrother. I shouldn't have gone out into the hallway. I shouldn't have kissed him back.

I was supposed to hate him. He'd made my life a living nightmare in school, and he'd threatened to continue from where he stopped. That was enough reason to hate him.

The next morning, I was picking at my breakfast when my mother decided to ruin what was left of my appetite.

"Aurelia, Chase will be driving you to campus today for your registration and orientation tour," she announced, all casual, like she was commenting on the weather instead of sentencing me to hell.

My fork clattered against the plate. "What?"

"You heard me." She didn't even glance up from her phone. "It'll be good for you two to bond."

Bond. Right. Like gluing dynamite to a lit match.

"I have the campus map on my phone," I said, forcing my voice steady even though my pulse was already spiking. "And I definitely don't need a babysitter. Especially not him."

She opened her mouth, probably to threaten me with the safe and my documents again, but right then Chase and Darlington strolled into the dining room like they owned the air itself. Which, technically, they kind of did.

"Speak of the devil," I muttered.

My mother shot me a glare sharp enough to cut glass.

"Chase, darling," she cooed, switching to full Stepford-wife mode, "I was just telling Aurelia you'd be kind enough to drive her to campus and show her around."

Chase froze mid-step, his grey eyes snapping to me like I'd personally offended him by existing.

His jaw tightened, and for a second I thought he might actually refuse.

But Darlington just chuckled, clapping his son on the shoulder. "Of course he will. Family helps family."

Family. The word tasted like bile.

I shoved my chair back and stood. "I'll be leaving now."

"Aurelia," my mother warned through gritted teeth, "be a good girl and greet your daddy properly."

I sucked in a slow breath, turned to Darlington with the fakest smile I could muster, and said in the sweetest, most sarcastic tone, "Good morning, Daddy Dearest. Hope you slept well on all that inherited money."

Then I turned on my heel and stormed out before anyone could stop me.

My face was still burning when I hit the kitchen. I yanked open the massive Sub-Zero fridge, bending down to grab my water bottle from the bottom shelf.

The cold air kissed my bare legs (ugh, stupid short sundress, but it was hot as hell outside) and I was so focused on not screaming that I didn't hear him come in.

Not until his hard body pressed against me from behind.

One second I was alone, the next Chase was there, chest to my back, hips pinning mine against the open fridge door.

The sudden heat of him made every inch of my skin ignite. His hand slid around my waist, fingers splaying possessively over my stomach, pulling me tighter against him while his other hand curled lightly around my throat from behind.

I froze, water bottle forgotten, breath trapped in my lungs.

His lips brushed the shell of my ear, his voice low and dangerous, dripping with venom and something darker. "What silly little game are you and your gold-digging mother playing, Little Lamb?"

I tried to twist away, but his grip only tightened, my waist locked in his iron grip, my throat held in a warning squeeze that made my pulse thunder against his palm.

"I know all about it," he growled, breath hot against my neck. "How she fluttered her lashes and got my father to pay your tuition. How she's sinking her claws into our money, one bill at a time. You think we're that easy? You think you can waltz in here, play innocent, and bleed us dry?"

His fingers flexed around my throat, not choking, just reminding me how easily he could. The pressure sent a reckless shiver racing down my spine, pooling low and treacherous between my thighs.

"You're both the same," he whispered, lips grazing my skin. "Greedy. Desperate. But you?"

His hand on my waist slid lower, thumb tracing the edge of my dress hem, teasing the bare skin of my thigh. "You're worse. Prancing around my house half-naked, begging for attention with that tight little body."

I swallowed hard, the movement pressing my throat harder into his grip. "Let go of me."

He laughed huskily. "Oh, I will. For now. But listen close, Little Lamb." His hips rolled forward once, letting me feel every hard inch of him pressed against my ass. "Step out of line, just once, and I'll devour you. Piece by fucking piece. I'll ruin you so completely you'll feel me for weeks."

Little did he know that I was already ruined.