Page 2 of My Italian Stepbrother

“You’re from Scanno?” I ask as we walk into the kitchen.

“My mother was, but she moved to the states when she was pregnant with me,” she replies.

No wonder my father loves her so much. She’s a beautiful Italian woman who makes gnocchi from scratch. I smile at her and make my way to my room to unpack the few belongings I have and get into a fresh change of clothes.

I sit down on my bed and look around the now-foreign room. I hadn’t been here since I was in my early twenties when I moved out. Unfortunately, in order to leave jail, I had to agree to move back in with my family. I love them, and it’s not the end of the world, but I also like my privacy.

My body relaxes when my head hits the plush pillow, and I can’t help but fall asleep.

* * *

The soundof the shower running wakes me up. I can feel the humidity from the steam creeping under the door with a light clean smell, like something flowery and fresh. Who’s in my bathroom? There are four other bathrooms in this house, and mine isn’t even the nicest one. I look out the windows and see that the sun’s beginning to set. I must have fallen asleep for an hour or so.

I walk to the bathroom door and knock. After not hearing a response, I push the door open slightly to see who’s in my room. I stop in my tracks, my heart slamming into my ribcage.

How could I have forgotten? The bathroom in my room is adjoined to the one next door. Brie must be staying in that room. That’s the only reason I could think of to explain why she’s in my bathroom and using my shower.

The images I’ve been seeing all afternoon once again resurface. I should close the door and pretend like I didn’t see anything. Like I wasn’t staring at her naked silhouette through the steamy glass shower door. But damn, she’s sexy. With clothes on, she’s drop dead gorgeous, but fully naked, she’s something else entirely.

My pants are growing tighter while she washes her body, her hands caressing her curves the way I want mine to. All I want is to step into that shower with her and press her body against the wall while I–

That’s my new sister. I tear my eyes away from the shower and quietly close the door, looking down at my pants with a sigh. Rubbing my hands across my face, I groan internally and shake my head.

Living with Brie is going to be harder than I thought—literally.

2

BRIE

Seeing him in person for the first time was surreal. I’d researched him online when my mom told me she was marrying Enio, and all they told me was that Benito was in prison. I had to make sure he wasn’t some crazy pervert or homicidal maniac. The jury is still out on the latter. Seeing him and knowing he went to jail for murder sent my mind spiraling.

Surprisingly, I feel comfortable around him. Well, I feel a little more than comfortable, but he’s my stepbrother now, and any feelings I have about his appearance will have to stop. He’s just so handsome. I was kind of taken aback when I saw him outside of the prison. He’s tall and very muscular. He walked out in jeans and a way too-tight white t-shirt, and looked like a 1950s greaser. I mean who wouldn’t find that attractive?

And when he hugged me...

I felt his hand touch my butt a little. I knew it wasn’t on purpose. He probably just overestimated where to put his hands? Either way, I’m not exactly complaining. He looked really good for a 38-year-old convict.

It didn’t hurt that he kept staring at me practically the entire drive back home. I saw him in the reflection on my window, staring at my breasts. I never really know what to do with male attention, so I ignore it, even though I could feel myself getting kind of excited at the idea of it.

I step into the shower to wash up before dinner, and I can’t help but think about Benito in his room on the other side of the door. His dark brown eyes looking me up and down, the way his body felt when he embraced me. What the hell am I even thinking? These thoughts are inappropriate for so many reasons. He’s almost twice my age. He was convicted of murder. And oh, he’s my stepbrother.

I don’t think of other men I meet like this, so why can’t I get a grip with him?

“Dinner in ten!” Mom yells up the stairs just as I turn the faucet off.

I quickly try to towel dry my hair and put it in a long braid before getting dressed for dinner. The dress I wore to pick Benito up was one of my favorites, and I adore that style of clothes, but I figure it’s best not to wear such revealing clothes around him right now. If he stares at me like he did earlier again, it might complicate things.

I start walking downstairs wearing a skirt and a nice sweater, tossing my long braid over my shoulder. Benito is already at the table, sitting next to Enio. We make eye contact when I walk into the room, and my heart skips a beat.

Still, he looks like a greaser, but now he’s wearing a long sleeve henley shirt with the top buttons undone. I wonder if he’s gotten buffer in prison? The shirt is tight enough around his chest and arms to see the outlines of his muscles. I can just make out a few tattoos on his chest, and I can’t help but imagine what they must look like without the shirt on.

This is going to be more complicated than I thought.

I take my usual spot at the table, which happens to be right next to him, and smile at everyone. My mom is carrying in the food and reaching to the center of the table to set it all down. Out of habit, I stand and reach over the wide table to help her with some of the food and plates.

As I sit back down, I notice that Benito is staring at my legs. I’m suddenly aware of how short this skirt is and how when I reached over the table, he probably had a good view. When I look down, I see that my skirt is slightly hitched from the movement and a good portion of my thighs are showing, which must be what Benito’s focused on. Instead of reaching down and lowering it to keep him from staring, I choose to ignore it.

I can’t deny that some part of me enjoys feeling his eyes on me. I know it’s wrong because we’re family now, but I never feel like this around anyone. I’ve never been drunk before, but I imagine it feels kind of similar. My head feels light, and the blood rushes to my cheeks. It’s dizzying and intoxicating. I know it’s bad for me, but I don’t want to stop.

---