Ruined By My Stepbrother

Day two; personal stripper

The moment the car door closed, we both sank into silence.

I stared out the window, refusing to look at him as he drove through the silent streets.

But he broke the silence. And the question he asked completely threw me off guard.

“Have you had dinner?”

I blinked, turning sharply to him.

“What?”

“Did you eat dinner?” He repeated, eyes still on the road. “Or are you planning to faint dramatically halfway through tonight and blame me for it?”

I rolled my eyes. “Why do you care?”

He paused for a moment, then replied.

“Because you might annoy me less when you’re not starving.”

I let out a short laugh before I could stop myself.

“Wow. Romantic.”

He didn’t respond to that.

“You haven't answered my question.” He said. “Have you eaten?”

“Yes.” I nodded. “I had dinner at the cafe with a friend.”

He didn't question any further until we got to his penthouse.

***

Unlike yesterday, we used his study today.

I wasn’t expecting it to look like a library. But it did. Books lined the shelves from wall to wall, neat and heavy with silence, and the whole room carried that familiar scent of Kayden.

He was already sitting on the desk when I walked in, one hand around a glass of his drink, the other resting loosely beside a bottle of barely touched champagne.

“This is beautiful,” I said quietly, my eyes moving across the room, taking it in like it might disappear if I blinked too long.

Without saying much, he poured champagne into a second flute and held it out toward me.

I looked at it for a second, hesitation sitting heavy in my chest.

“C’mon,” he scoffed lightly, like he already knew my thoughts. “I didn’t poison it.”

I walked closer, my heels clicking softly against the floor in the quiet, and took the glass from him. Not because I trusted him completely, but because my throat felt too dry to refuse.

I took a long gulp, then reached for the bottle of champagne myself and topped up my glass. He watched me the entire time, silent, and when I finally filled it to the brim, I sat beside him and started sipping slowly.

“You really are something else,” he whispered, his eyes still fixed on the city outside, like the words were meant more for the night than for me.

We were both facing the windows now. The lights in the study were off, so the city glow poured in and softened everything, turning the room into something almost unreal. From up here, the world below looked distant.

“Don’t underestimate me,” I said with a lazy shrug, taking another slow sip before placing the glass down beside his.

“So,” I wiped my mouth and stood, turning slightly toward him. “What’s on today’s itinerary?”

He set his glass down and leaned back on his hands, propped against the desk, completely relaxed like he had nowhere else to be. “Surprise me.”

I rolled my eyes at that. Of course he would say something like that, like I was supposed to read his mind for something he was also paying for.

“Fine,” I muttered, already scanning the room for something to work with. My eyes moved around the study, searching for a speaker or music system. If tonight was going to go the way I planned, then it had to be music, slow build, something that kept things easy between us for now.

Noticing my searching glance, he finally spoke again.

“What do you need?”

“A music player.”

He jumped down from the desk.

“Lemme go and get one,” he said, already turning away. He strode to the door and disappeared out of the room.

I stayed where I was and let out a slow breath, pulling in the quiet around me. I knew what tonight was leading to. I was about to strip for him. It didn’t make me nervous. I had done it before, too many times back at that club for it to feel unfamiliar.

Minutes later, he came back in, holding a small MP3 player in his hand.

“Got it,” he said, lifting it slightly. In his other hand was a pack of cigarettes, held loosely.

He handed the player to me, and I connected it to my phone without a word. When the music came on, I picked my favorite song and let it fill the room.

He sat back on the desk again, still not lighting the cigarette, just turning it between his fingers. His eyes stayed on me, steady and patient, like he already knew what was coming.

I shrugged off my coat, revealing the same outfit he had given me the day before, and I saw it immediately in his gaze, that shift, sharp and hungry, like I had already pulled him in without moving closer.

The song was slow, slipping under my skin and settling there. I closed my eyes for a moment, letting it take over, feeling it pulse through my chest before I opened them again.

Then I started to move.

There was no pole, no stage, just the space between us, so I used what I knew, the kind of dance I did in private rooms when there was only one person watching.

I bit down lightly on my finger and held his gaze, then let it trail down my chest slowly. When I reached my breasts, I cupped them with deliberate ease, moving my hips in a slow, controlled circle, letting the music guide every motion.

Then I turned so my back faced him and wobbled my hips, twerking just enough to make the skirt cling and outline my shape.

When I turned back, I caught the reaction immediately. His arousal was visible beneath his trousers.

I didn’t stop.

I dropped lower into a rubber-leg move, flowing into a floor routine, my head tilted back as the music wrapped around me. A soft moan slipped out of me on purpose, and I arched slightly, one hand cupping my breasts while the other dragged through my hair and pushed it back from my face.

When I looked at him again, his gaze had changed completely. Darker now, like he wanted to devour me with his eyes.

I stood up and cat-walked toward him slowly, letting each step land steady and deliberate. My head tilted slightly as I looked at him, my gaze sliding over his face while I moved closer, unhurried. I could already feel the heat building low in my stomach, stubborn and hard to ignore, especially with the way he was looking at me like that.

Even if I hated him, there was no denying it, he was dangerously attractive.

“You’re unbelievable, Dolly,” he groaned, his hand tightening around my waist as I got closer.

“I know,” I replied calmly, reaching for the cigarette beside him. I placed it between my lips and flicked the lighter on, the small flame flaring between us for a second before it caught. The light reflected in his eyes, and I felt his grip on my waist tighten a little more.

“I didn’t think you’d be this good, Dolly,” he said, watching me closely as I took a slow drag.

I leaned in slightly and exhaled the smoke right into his space. “That’s why I’m Dolly,” I said, voice low. “I’m always good at what I do.”

Before he could respond, I pressed the cigarette between his lips, then shifted closer, my fingers already moving to his shirt. I started unbuttoning it slowly, my movements steady, controlled, like I wasn’t in any rush at all.

One thing I had learned when I started stripping was simple, I never let emotions get in the way of work. Even if I hated the person to the core. A client paid for a service, and it was my job to make sure he left satisfied.