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Forbidden: Her British Stepbrother Book 1
Published on 1-12-2016 Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance
He's her first. He's her everything. He's her . . . stepbrother.
Kat has always been a good girl. She studies hard and never stays out too late. But when sitting in a pub on her birthday, she realizes she's a nineteen-year-old virgin who's never really lived. And she wants tonight to be the night that changes.
Then she sees him walk in. He's tall, dark, handsome, and straight out of her deepest fantasies. His voice makes her knees feel weak, and when he smiles, she imagines him doing wicked things to her in bed. From the look in his eyes, she knows he's imagining it too. So when he asks if he can walk her home, she hears herself whisper yes . . .
Forbidden: Her British Stepbrother is a short novel and the first in a three part serial series Her British Stepbrother by National Bestselling author, Lauren Smith.
“What can I get you?”
Mr. Tall and Sexy shifted slightly, allowing Kat to slip into the space next to him, their shoulders and arms touching as she answered.
“I’ll have a pint of Nelson’s Revenge, please.”
The stranger next to her chuckled. “Are you sure about that?” he asked. “That’s a stiff drink and likely to bring tears to your eyes.” There was a hint of teasing in his tone, and Kat couldn’t resist responding.
“I’m sure. Besides, I’m more likely to start crying at the sight of a butterfly than a stout ale.” She laughed, then realized what’d she said and blushed.
The man angled his body toward her, propping one arm on the counter as he stared down at her.
“Butterflies make you cry? What on earth for? Don’t tell me you’re afraid of them.” Humor heated those blue-green eyes of his, and she felt an answering heat sweep through her body.
“I…well, it’s silly really…” She hedged. She didn’t normally open up to people, let alone strange, beautiful men in pubs. But there was something about the way he was watching her, his intense focus on her and his interest in what she was saying, that gave her courage to continue.
“I used to live in Texas with my dad, and we saw monarch butterflies when they migrated. But now with their habitats dying out, I rarely see them. When I do get lucky and one flies past me, it’s beautiful…and sad.” She shrugged her shoulders, glancing away. “I know that sounds silly.”
“Not at all,” he murmured softly. “No sillier than how I feel when I look at stained glass windows. It’s the same for me, that mixture of melancholy and beauty. It’s not often I meet someone else who thinks about things like that.” His intense scrutiny tore her in two directions, between the need to squirm and to go very still.
The man possessed an overpowering, seductive and masculine presence. She caught the scent of pine and something clean and crisp that sparked her other senses to life. It encompassed her like some dark spell, leaving her with a desperate need to stay close to him. The things those girls had whispered about him came rushing back…“bad reputation”…“god in bed”…Whoever he was didn’t matter, she just wanted him. Wanted to curl her arms around his neck and get as close to him as possible.
“I think about that stuff all the time,” she said, unable to tear her gaze away from his.
He lifted his glass to his lips and sipped. It wasn’t ale he was drinking but something else, a dark, warm gold color, probably Scotch. She realized she must have been staring at his mouth when he licked his lips and spoke again.
“Keep staring at me like that and I’m liable to kiss you.”
Desire and hunger lit up his eyes, heating the strange mixture of blue and green. It almost made her forget that she was talking to a stranger. It really was possible to lose yourself in someone’s eyes. Maybe the poets weren’t wrong about love at first sight. She didn’t love this man, but she was…captivated by him, which felt like love, in a strange sort of way. The lightness of her head, the wobbly knees, the fascination with him.
“There’s nothing stopping you from kissing me,” she breathed. Her heart was pounding against her ribs as excitement skittered through her. Would he accept the challenge and kiss her?
His eyes softened, but there was a dangerous glint to his expression, one that warned her that if he kissed her…it wouldn’t be chaste, wouldn’t be sweet. It would be the sort of kiss that made a girl forget where she was and moan helplessly for more.
They were mere inches apart now…When had she leaned into him? Somehow she had shifted closer, fixated on his mouth, the full sensual lips. The bit of the cider ale she’d been drinking earlier made her thoughts a bit muddy. Well, all but one thought.
I want him to kiss me. If he won’t, I’ll kiss him first.
Before she let herself think better of it, she seized the chance to be reckless and rocked up on her tiptoes, curling her fingers into the lapels of his coat as she kissed him. Hard. It was wild, the way she let go and just gave herself into kissing him. Her own sexy stranger…
His hands gripped her waist, fingers digging in slightly, making tingles of excitement shoot down her spine, clear to her toes. His lips were soft and warm, moving against hers hungrily. When he angled his face, he caressed her lips with his tongue. The startling, erotic feel of it had her mouth parting, and he thrust inside.
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