President Stepbrother...With Benefits: A Bad Boy Alpha Male Stepbrother Romance Read online

  "I know, dear. And we will in the future. Don't worry. Maybe you can take some time off when she's around. She's really a nice girl once you get to know her. It might do you some good, you know?"

  The last sentence is a jab at me. I can fucking tell. Telling me I need some fucking stability. Because the fucking newspapers are killing too many trees writing about the sluts I've banged.

  "Alright, I get it," I say, trying not to curse. I hang up the phone and toss it to Nadia.

  "I need to get to New York," I tell her. Nadia looks at me. "Dad's birthday party? You're still planning on attending?"

  "Of course I'm fucking going to my Dad's birthday party," I respond back, slightly pissed off. I don't know why. I'm fucking President of the United States. I should be on Cloud fucking 9. "I need to catch my plane."

  And that's when Secret Service comes in. They wait for nothing or nobody. The head agent walks up to me.

  "Excuse me, sir. My name is Agent Daniels. I'll be the head of your protection detail," he says. I introduce myself and then realize that's a dumb thing to do because I'm now the President of the United States.

  "Did I hear you correctly that you were headed to the airport?" he asks.

  I nod my head.

  "Right, you're going to miss your flight, sir," he tells me. I'm about to protest and tell him to fuck off when he looks at me. "But we can get Air Force One ready in half an hour if that’s okay."

  Air Force One?

  Maybe it'll be good to be President.

  I'm in the Presidential Motorcade heading towards Andrews Air Force base where I'll catch Air Force One to New York City. I’m a fucking rock star. I mentally think about all the different places I'm going to bang bitches in the months to come.

  Sure, there'll be a lot of work. Nadia is going on and on about that right now.

  "You really should do a press conference," she's telling me. "Let the country know that it's in good hands."

  "The country's fucked if they need me to tell them that," I tell her. Then I take a pause. "Besides, let this be the old Administration's night. Let them have their last moments and pack their shit before they go. I'll do a press conference from DC tomorrow evening once I land. In the meantime, tell them if they ask that I've gone to my father's birthday party. I got nothing to fucking hide."

  Nadia rolls her eyes at me but she writes it down. I have no idea how many press inquiries have been coming in but I'm thinking most everyone is still in a state of shock. They don't know what the fuck is going on. Hell, people are coming home and turning on the thirty minutes of news that they get each day. And giant letters are going to read that the President was caught giving his VP a blowjob. And that I took charge.

  Yeah, there might be some people moving to Canada.

  "We're going to have an image problem with you," Nadia is telling me.

  I look at her as if asking what the fuck she's talking about.

  She decides to explain. "You’ve made yourself a reputation. Different girl each night. Nightclubs. Partying. People don't want that in a President."

  "No," I agree with her. "He might end up giving blowjobs in The White House to his staff."

  "We need to find you a stabilizing influence. Someone to temper you," she says, rolling her eyes. I have a thought that she’s about to suggest herself and that’s one battle I do not want to fight right now. Before she can say anything, the car arrives next to the plane and I am out the fucking door.

  “We’re not done here, Austin!” Nadia calls out. But I’ve already started climbing the steps to the plane.

  I get to New York faster than I've thought possible and before I know it, I'm heading into Manhattan towards my parent’s brownstone on the Upper East Side. Ever hear about Manhattan traffic? Yeah, that doesn't exist for me anymore. I'm sitting wondering what the fuck just happened to me when I realize that I'm already at their house.

  Fuck. This island is pretty small when you're the fucking President of the United States.

  The party has already started by the time I get in and normally I’d just go to the bar and get a drink. But that doesn’t happen this time because everyone knows I’m coming in. If they didn’t hear the police sirens from the fucking motorcade, then they saw the Secret Service agents walk in and start scanning the crowd, looking around the house and then taking up positions near the exits.

  I walk in and it’s pretty subdued. People dressed up looking at me, as if I have two fucking heads or something.

  Dad comes up to me and shakes my hand. “Always knew how to make an entrance, son,” he says with a smile. Finally, I fucking smile and hug him back. Yeah, I know. Real manly.

  Next to Dad is my stepmom.

  “Hi, Mom,” I say and reach over and give her a hug. I don’t mind calling her Mom. Ever since my Mom died of the cancer, it’s always been Dad and me so I never really had a real mother and it feels good knowing I have one now.

  There’s a fucking hot blonde standing next to my stepmom and, while I’m hugging my stepmom, I notice the tight red dress that she’s wearing. The first thing I think about when I see her face is that it reminds me of a fucking angel. Just the right amount of cute, but with the capability to be slutty. Her skin is flawless and her eyes are ethereally fucking beautiful – doe like and large. Her legs are slender and she’s got fantastic fucking tits. If she turned around, I’d pop a fucking boner just looking at her ass. Which would be weird because I’m still hugging my stepmom.

  Once I disengage myself, my stepmom walks up to her. “Do you remember Ashley?” she asks me sweetly. Ashley gives me a grimace of a smile.

  Holy fuck. It’s going to be a long night.

  News Flash - Late February

  Breaking News Today.

  Hello, I’m Tristan Carnahan from the Nightly News.

  We bring you breaking news happening now.

  The world was shocked yesterday to see the President of the United States engaged in a sexual act with his Vice President in The White House. The act, caught on camera by dozens of tourists as well as news media was discovered when Congressman Austin Bain made his way to the White House for what is being described as a routine meeting on the recently passed legislation to remove the age barrier to holding the office of President.

  In the tumultuous several hours that followed, both the President and the Vice President submitted their resignations through their personal press offices, with the President holding a news conference shortly after.

  Asked about the act, the President cited the Bible, telling reporters that those who live in glass houses should not throw stones at others. When informed that such a passage was not in the Bible, the President asked the reporter if after what had just happened, people were really expecting that he was well-versed in the Bible.

  The First Lady has released a statement from her Press Office that she is planning on filing for divorce in the near future.

  The Presidential line of succession now falls to the Speaker of the House, Austin Bain. Mr. Bain is well-known in the social circles of the elite, having been photographed multiple times with different women. He has been linked to many famous supermodels, and was rumored to be Princess Georgina’s lover, who divorced from her husband this year. Last year, perhaps well known to Americans, Academy Award Winner Muriel Lawson used her acceptance speech to make an impassioned plea to Speaker Bain to return her phone calls.

  To date, there have been over 150 women who have suggested that they have had sexual relations with Austin Bain while he was Congressman. When asked if there was a romantic connection to any of the women by reporters, the only comment to come from the Speaker was, “Yes.”

  When asked which ones, the Speaker simply said, “All,” earning him the moniker, “Congressman Casanova” from the New York Post.

  Constitutional scholars have raised the point that the new President is only 27 years old. It will thus be determined during the Constitutional Convention in July whether President Bain will retain his office of
President, or be disqualified for someone older.

  4

  Ashley

  By the way people are standing at attention, you’d think we were greeting Jesus Christ – not Austin Bain - even if he is President of the United States of America.

  He enters the room with a confident strut, his head held high as if he owns everything and everyone. Which, by the way, is almost true. He’s the President! I’m still having a hard time thinking about it: how did Austin and President became two words that could be used in the same sentence? That cocky, arrogant jerk who preys on women, casually tossing them aside once he’s done with them – how did he end up becoming the most powerful man on the planet?

  I never got to meet him properly. Even though our parents married, he was nothing more than a name and a pretty face to me. Of course, when he made the climb to the House of Representatives, I started to get to know him. But that was a knowing that was only through the tabloids and never ending news pieces on him. Congressman Casanova. The man was a loose cannon, and he left a body count left and right wherever he went – as the former President could attest to.

  But now I guess it’s time to make up for all that. I always knew I would have to interact with him eventually – him being my stepbrother and all. I just never thought that it would happen in a room full of Secret Service agents.

  I take a deep breath as he hugs my mom, waiting for the inevitability of having to greet him. For a full second I’m actually not sure if I should call him Austin or Mr. President.

  Oh, and here comes my mom now.

  “Do you remember, Ashley?” She says as I try to produce my best smile, managing no more than a grimace. My heart is beating fast - he’s tall and… handsome. Hey, don’t judge me. If you were here, you’d know what I mean. Sure, I’ve seen him countless times on TV and on magazines, but having him right in front of me is a whole different thing. He cuts an imposing figure, his military honed muscles bulging under his shirt. Ice blue, but soulful eyes. Perfect hair. And his smile… With a roguish smile as that, no wonder he’s romancing women left and right.

  But he’s a first class asshole too, and I would do well to not forget that.

  He extends his hand towards me and I shake it feebly.

  “It’s been a while,” he says, his eyes never leaving my face. Somehow, I know that he has already eyed me up and down. The damn bastard can’t even control himself around his stepmother and sister.

  “It has,” I respond, a slight buzz in my chest as I feel his long fingers in my hand. “Long enough for you to start running the United States single-handedly.”

  “I see that my younger sister is an expert on political matters,” he says to my mother, then grinning at me; I immediately feel blood running to my face. My body is going rogue on me, and I can’t have that. Keep it together, Ashley. Remember who he is: the biggest goddamn asshole in the whole fucking country.

  “Probably more of an expert than you,” I manage to retort. “Mr. President,” I say, the words rolling off of my lips with careful mocking.

  “Oh, smart girl. She knows who I am!” He looks at my mother then, gently smiling. “It’s been great to see you, Mom.”

  Why the hell does this idiot even call my mother ‘mom’? She’s his stepmom! He’s probably just doing it to piss me off. The moment she turns around and joins my stepfather, Austin winks at me while he takes a good hard look at my figure. I can’t believe him!

  God, I just hope I’ve put enough makeup on so that my face doesn’t look like a cherry tomato. Just one hard look at me and my heart is already racing - why does he have to look so good? This asshole is just eye candy though, there’s nothing of substance underneath the surface.

  “You really are an idiot, Austin Bain,” I find myself saying. Damn, did I actually call the President an idiot? I know, he’s also my stepbrother but… even so.

  “A rich idiot,” he winks at me again, unabashed. “And also, I’m the President, so there’s that too.”

  Soon the other guests whisk him away from me: everybody wants to exchange pleasantries with the President, it seems. It’s still unreal for me to call him that… Sure, his dad had money, but I never expected for him climb so far in the world: between going to Afghanistan, becoming a billionaire, Speaker of the House, and now President, it’s hard to actually get a grasp on who he is. Powerful, wealthy, playboy. Now that’s a dangerous combination.

  Oh, and don’t forget the fact the he’s only 27. He’s not some old balding guy with a paunch that has grinded his way into the White House. While most guys his age are still trying to figure out what to do with their lives, Austin has already forged a legacy. Where can he even go from here?

  I chit chat with some of the guests - at least with the ones polite enough to ask me about what I do - but overall nobody cares about the President’s stepsister. I get it, I really do. And I know it’s not only because he has the title. When Austin is in the room, he owns it.

  I know, it might be hard for you to accept that a guy like him has become the President. But if you were here, you’d see. It almost sounds logical.

  I linger by the bar during most of the party’s duration, sipping margaritas and wishing I could sit and talk with my stepbrother again. Like some lovesick teenage girl, I wait for him to come and just have a drink with me. Why am I feeling like this? I hate his guts, and still I can’t wait for the next opportunity to spar verbally with him! Why do I even want to? He’s nothing like me and a complete opposite of everything I believe in!

  Of course, he stays too busy to come back my way. I wonder if I went too far with the hostility and maybe he’s avoiding me. I wasn’t thinking of my career, I realize – but my own feelings on the man – and now my chance to ask for a pardon might be gone. Before the night’s over, he heads out to only God knows where with his security tailing him, only bothering to say his goodbyes to my mom and his dad.

  Now, this might be my brain playing a trick on me, but I actually think that he winked at me on the way out.

  God, why am I even thinking of this? I order one more margarita, hoping that it will help clear my head.

  I find myself smiling - my stepbrother is the President. Yes, this is the world I live in now. The whole world is really going down the drain.

  I’m brought back to reality from bizarro world by the quiet buzz of my cellphone. I grab it, and see an unlisted number. I hang up. A moment later, it starts to ring again. Sighing, I pick it up and put it to my ear.

  “Hello?” I say.

  “Ms. Draper, please hold for the President,” an operator’s professional voice informs me.

  I roll my eyes. This is typical for my stepbrother, I imagine.

  A moment later, my call is connected.

  “Ashley,” Austin’s voice comes out of the phone. “Sorry, they took my phone when I got this job a few hours ago. Said it was a security risk. But I wanted to talk to you.”

  Okay. I’ll be honest. I haven’t heard that one before.

  Austin continues. “Listen. Dinner?”

  Is he asking me to dinner? I’m silent the entire time as he continues. “The White House. My treat. What you say, Ash?”

  Okay, hold on. Has this really happened? Has Austin really invited me to have dinner with him? And why the hell am I more anxious about seeing him again than I am about pushing the Oliver Trask issue? I’m a professional, damn it!

  I take a deep breath. I’m a professional indeed - it’s time to act like it.

  “I’d love that, Austin,” I say with as much fake sweetness I can muster – hoping it hides my racing heart. Should I apologize for teasing him?

  “Great. Let’s say Friday? That gives you a week,” he asks.

  Is this a date? Who has dinner on a Friday on a non-date?

  “That’s fine. Friday is perfect.”

  Austin tells me how much he’s looking forward to it. Then he hangs up.

  I sigh. I haven’t dated in a long time. I mean, Jake just broke up with me t
his week after 6 months of dating. But it’s kind of hard to reject being asked out by the President of the United States.

  But then again, that’s only if this was a date. And it can’t be. Not with my stepbrother.

  Right?

  “Alright, just relax, Ashley. It’s going to be fine. You can do this,” Carl says - always confident and positive. I sigh into the phone, trying to remain upbeat. I’m on my way to the White House right now, about to have dinner with Austin. Ahem, President Austin. I’m being professional about it, remember? My goal here is to get him to sign a pardon to Trask - there’s a lot on the line, and I can’t fail.

  “I know. Let’s hope he signs off on it.”

  “He will, Ash. I trust you. You’ll get it done.”

  “Yeah. Thank you, Carl. I mean it.” The taxi stops right in front of the main entrance to the White House. I’ve never been here so I actually don’t know where do I have to go. “Alright, gotta run. Will talk to you later!”

  I end the call and pay the driver, stepping out into the chill Washington air. I cross the street, and seeing a security officer on the entrance I move towards him. He looks at me with one raised eyebrow, probably taking me for a journalist. I don’t blame him - I can only imagine the avalanche of reporters and paparazzi hitting the place after Austin got sworn in.

  “Ashley Draper, I’m here to meet Aus -- the President.”

  He squints his eyes at me.

  “ID?”

  I take it out of my wallet and, after looking intensively at it, he grabs the radio on his belt and mumbles something into it. Someone answers him and, in a heartbeat, his grimace turns into a polite smile.

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Draper. It’s been a very complicated day.” I nod at him, almost pitying for spending the whole day in the cold while dealing with relentless journalists, tourists and what have you. “Someone’s coming here to guide you inside.”