Page 72 of The Stepbrother 2: Noah
“Creed, I'm sorry,” I whispered, and it came out cracked, barely a sound at all. “I don’t know how to fix this.”
She folded her arms under her chest and shrugged.
Something in me snapped. She was treating me like I’d purposely shut her out. I thought if anybody understood me it would be Creed.
My voice dropped low. “Creed, if you don’t speak now, I’llmakeyou talk.”
She lifted her chin, her eyes flashed with anger and pain that almost broke me. And for a split second, we just stared each other down, both too stubborn to break, both too bruised to bend. The silence between us felt like it had a pulse, something alive, something dangerous.
I closed the space between us, my anger was irrational, but it was all I could feel in that moment. My hands reached out, grabbing her chin, forcing her to look at me. "Why won't you talk to me?" My hand dropped to her neck. A small whine escaped her mouth. More tears glistened in her eyes. Watching her cry was painful as much as it was beautiful. My dick started growing hard. We hadn’t had sex in weeks. “Kiss me,” I demanded. She looked indignant before turning her face away. Before I even considered what I was doing, my hand shot out.
I gripped a handful of her hair, she dropped to the ground trying to get away and dug her nails into my hand, but she didn’t utter a word or make a sound. I dragged her across the floor like a rag doll, hefting her up and bending her over the table. I splayed my hand over her back, forcing her down. She tried to swing at me, kicked backward at me. I smashed her head into the wood table, not enough to hurt, just enough so she knew I was in charge, and she couldn’t defy me. It took the fight out of her. I grinded myself against her round ass, tracing her hip with my free hand.
“Don’t want to talk. You don’t want to kiss me. I can make you do both,” I growled.
She’d already showered for bed so was only wearing a T-shirt and pantie. Her shirt had risen above the curve of her ass. I pushed her thong to the side. She whimpered in syllables that sounded vaguely consensual. I slid my straightened fingers in,then in and out of her slick core, stretching her. I let her head go and brought my hand down on her ass cheek. She whimpered softly. A scarlet handprint began to appear across the fine, smooth skin of her ass. I did it again. I wanted to bruise her. I really needed to let out my frustration.
I kept my fingers working inside of her. She was so wet already and getting wetter. She moved with me. I wanted to feel her wrapped around me. I snatched my finger out of her, replacing it with my dick. I was so angry I wanted to fuck her until she couldn’t take it. It was better than her not talking to me on purpose. I pounded into her hard enough for her knees to go weak. I felt her cumming around me, milking me. The first words she uttered to me were “pull out.” She urged, wasn't on birth control yet.
My balls drew tight at the thought of another baby.
I pushed deeper, fucked her deeper, and exploded. Maybe a new baby would be the tether I needed. Feeling her spasm and squeeze around me lets me know she wants my cum. We came together, claw at the table.
When I was done I grabbed her, made her stand and face me. I shoved my tongue into her mouth, she kissed me back on instinct, but then there was pain as she sank her teeth sank into my tongue. I let her go.
She glared at me "Fuck you, Noah." she screamed before shoving past me.
I tittered, let my words follow her out of the kitchen "I made you talk, didnt I?" I laughed harder.
I preferred Creed’s anger to her indifference. For the first time in a while I felt better.
Creed-
I stretched toward the ceiling and shifted my position in bed while Floetry played softly in the background and rain poured down in sheets outside. I felt restless. My mind wandered to thoughts of my daughter, of Noah, and of my new pregnancy—which I hadn’t yet told Noah about. I knew I’d eventually have to go home, but I just wasn’t ready. Now that Noah was better and my daughter was safe with her grandfather, her cousin DJ, and Duke the dog in the wilds of Alaska for a while, I didn’t feel the urgency the be better than I was feeling. It was a relief not to have to think about, fix, or save everybody and everything.
After Maine’s passing, my momma getting stabbed, and Tiffany being killed, I hadn’t slowed down. The past year had been the hardest of my life, but now Momma was healing. She was walking again, albeit with a limp, and sometimes her words slurred, but you couldn’t tell her she wasn’t back to her old self. Of course, she and Daddy were back together—who hadn’t seen that coming? After Noah went silent on me, I thought we were heading in the same direction as Momma and Daddy. Separated but still acting married. But we worked it out through counseling. Once everything felt stable again, I realized I just needed a few quiet moments. I hadn’t had one since the day I was dragged to the altar. I was tired. Noah knew where I was, but I’d asked for some time to myself, just to unpack.
Getting up, I dragged my feet to the bathroom, then to the kitchen for a glass of water. My phone started ringing. I knew it was Noah—he sometimes called just to talk—but I wasn’t in the mood. Ignoring the first couple of call, I got curious when he kept trying. By the fourth ring, I gave in. Why was he being sopersistent? Out of sheer curiosity, I went back to the living room, grabbed my phone from the coffee table, and picked up.
“Hello?”
“Creed, you need to come home. There's a package here for Jason,” Noah said, his voice tense, almost too calm.
I frowned, as if he could see me through the phone. “A package? Why would a package come to our house for Jason? We haven’t even seen or heard from him in almost a year. What is it?” I questioned.
“You need to see it to believe it,” he insisted.
I dragged my fingers through my hair. “Is this some ploy to get me home?” I asked, trying to keep my tone flat.
“I would love for you to be here, but I swear, I was going to give you your space. This needs your immediate attention,” he replied, and something in his tone caught my attention. My heart started to race. I quickly hung up and dressed, then drove home.
On the way, I called Tempest to cancel our plans to watchPoetic Justicetogether. We were just going to watch over the phone, but it was better than nothing. With her in Florida and me in Georgia, both of us with kids and husbands, we didn’t get to spend time like we used to. Neither of us could get away often, so it was disappointing. Atlanta traffic was worse than usual, giving me way too much time to think about what the package could be. By the time I got home, my nerves were shot. I barely put the car in park before jumping out.
When I stepped into my home for the first time in weeks, the sight in front of me brought everything to a standstill. Noah was cradling a baby, a tiny baby that wasn’t mine. Why was heholding a three year old? My mind immediately jumped to the worst conclusion—that my husband, like my father had brought home a baby for me to raise, and if that was true, I’d kill him dead.
Noah must have read my mind because he shook his head. “She’s not mine.” He walked over and handed me an envelope. I opened it and read:
"Creed, I'm sorry to do this to you, but Jason won’t listen and isn’t fit. Even after a DNA test he’s been denying her. I can’t keep her. Akane, your niece, should be with family even if it isn’t her father. Love, Ana."
