Page 6 of Stalker Stepbrother

When she does notice me, it’s to criticize everything about me, including how I look—that I should dress up in a way that hides my big ass and thighs. She’s always been a pro at destroying whatever little self-esteem I have.

One time, I had a severe stomachache that I couldn't move. I was lying on the mattress in a fetal position. She took one look at me and said, "You need to get up. Being lazy won't get you anywhere. This is why you don’t fit in those jeans I bought you."

My presence no longer registered, and so that was how I thought of myself—unnoticeable, less than ordinary, invisible, not worthy of attention.

“I mean, look at me. I’m in my 50s and still having fun. You’re 20! You need to learn how to balance things. Burying your nose in a book every chance you get is not the way to live your life. Stop being boring, Callie. Loosen up a little.”

I’m clenching my pen so hard that I won’t be surprised if it breaks. The door creaks and I turn to find Callum leaning against the frame, arms crossed over his chest. He’s wearing dark gray sweatpants and black-t-shirt that hugs his biceps. He’s barefoot and with a five o’clock shadow, and I’ve never seen someone look this good without even trying.

“Is someone there, Callie? What are you looking at?” Mom says and her face almost fills the entire screen, as if she’s trying to see who’s here.

“Oh, uhm. It’s Callum.”

“He’s there? Let me talk to him.”

I’m about to tell her to do it next time since I still have several pages to go through, but Callum has quietly padded toward me. He sits on his haunches beside me, drapes an arm over the back of my chair, and nods to Mom. “Hey, Janis.”

“Hey! How’s Callie doing? Is she disturbing you? She can be a bit annoying with her music, but I hope you’re not kicking her out yet?” Mom chuckles like pulling your own daughter down is entertaining and amusing. Like I said, she’s a pro at this.

I don’t want to look at Callum and see him smiling at Mom’s comments, but I still see his reflection in the small pink mirror beside my laptop. Right now, he’s scowling at my mother, looking very intimidating.

“Your daughter is far from annoying, Janis. You would know that if you actually pay attention to her,” he says in a low voice that’s menacing but makes my apex throb.

“Oh no! That’s not what I meant at all! I was just joking! Of course, she’s amazing. I mean, I can…” Mom rambles on and on, but I no longer hear anything because Callum’s other hand is resting on my knee, massaging and tracing circles.

Are knees erogenous zones because I could swear I feel myself getting wet with this simple contact? I don’t even know if Callum’s doing it unintentionally, but my body is on fire. My breathing becomes ragged, and I’ve tuned out Mom so the only sound I hear is my pounding heart.

“Right,” Callum says, but it seems so far away.

I haven’t heard a single thing she said, but he’s nodding, grunting in acknowledgment, or giving one-word answers. Mom, bless her for her inability to notice things that don’t concern her, is giving us a tour of the yacht—something no one asked for.

Her screen is in dual-view mode, which allows us to view both the front and back camera lenses on her phone. She’s showing us the deck and whatever, but while my eyes are glued to the screen, Callum’s hand has inched its way under the hem of my dress.

I stifle a gasp and clench my fists, hoping Mom doesn’t notice the changes in my face. For some reason, I open my thighs, giving him access to almost all of me.

Callum has never been the friendly, chatty type, not even the night our parents dumped me on his doorstep. But he’s encouraging Mom to keep talking and show us everything that overly expensive yacht has to offer. And I know—I absolutely know—he’s not interested in any of those things.

His massive hand skims my inner thighs and stops just an inch away from my now-soaked panties.

“The chef is amazing! I don’t even know half of what he serves us but it’s divine! There’s freshly baked bread every morning. For the past two dinners, we’ve had a seafood platter and Wagyu steak. I swear I’m gonna end up at least ten pounds heavier before this tour ends!”

“Nice,” Callum says, eyes on the screen, but his pinkie finger is already sliding up and down my slit over my cotton panties.

I grip the armrests tightly and dig my heel into the carpet, gulping every moan and whimper that threatens to come out.

“You know what? How about you show us another day? Callie’s actually working on several papers from what I can see. Let’s let her work in peace,” Callum tells her. Without waiting for her response, he clicks the red button to end the video call.

The moment Mom’s face disappears on the screen, he swings my chair toward him and takes my mouth in a searing kiss that leaves both of us breathless. I’m clutching his broad shoulders, digging my nails into them.

When he pulls back, I whimper in annoyance. But he has other plans.

Still sitting on his heels, he opens my legs wider without taking his eyes off me. He hooks his finger into the waistband of my panties and slides it down my legs. He only lowers his gaze after he hikes up my dress, giving him a full view of my pussy.

“Fuck, Callie. You’re dripping wet already,” he growls. With his thumb, he parts my folds and rubs circles on my clit.

“Oh, god,” I gasp, head tilted back.

“Eyes here, baby girl. I want you to look at me while I eat you and make you come.”

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