Stepbrother Studs_Zayn Read online

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  Stepbrother Studs: Zayn

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  MOXIE

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  High school senior, Moxie, agrees to be moral support for her friend, Patches, who is totally enamored with a college boy, so she says yes to a double date, even though she has to lie to her parents to do it.

  But Moxie wasn’t counting on lying about her age to get into an X-rated movie, and she definitely wasn’t counting on her date’s Roman hands and Russian fingers, or the fact that the pants she’s borrowed from Patches are several sizes too small. By the end of the night, Moxie finds herself in far more trouble than she bargained for!

  BOOK DESCRIPTION

  Linnie’s stepbrother, Zayn, is so hot that she just has to set him up with her best friend, Jess. The two of them have been dating for two years, but Jess isn’t happy because Zayn has signed an abstinence contract at church. The poor girl just wants to get laid, after all!

  When Jess suggests to Linnie that Zayn might be gay, that’s the last straw. Linnie decides to tell her stepbrother that Jess only wants one thing, and she’s just doing her best to tempt him into breaking his contract.

  But Zayn’s got a confession to make—the only reason he signed the contract was because he knew it would be easy to keep. He’s not gay—he’s just in love with a girl he can’t have.

  His own stepsister.

  Stepbrother Studs: Zayn

  By Selena Kitt

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  I met Zayn when we were both sixteen. He ended up standing next to me in choir—I was an alto, when all the rest of the girls were sopranos—and he told me I had a beautiful voice. I think that’s when I kind of melted and started warming toward him. Flattery really can get a boy anywhere, as our old pastor, Robert, used to say. The devil’s tongue.

  But I thought Zayn was sincere. And he was the only boy I’d ever really talked to—about real things. Spiritual things. Things that meant something, to both of us. He was an only child and so was I.

  My mother was the choir director at our church. Pastor Robert used to say, “Rita makes the angels take notice.” She was a soprano—a very high soprano—and when she sang, it really was like an angel. My voice was nothing in comparison and, being her daughter, it was hard to live up to. But Zayn told me he loved my voice even more than hers. He made me love singing.

  He made me love him.

  Maybe it was that devil’s tongue after all…

  We were singing when we first met Zayn and his dad.

  It was a couple days after Easter and I was helping my mother take down the decorations at the church. Pastor Robert had retired, and we knew the new pastor would arrive before the following Sunday.

  Mom told me the new pastor would think his parishioners were lazy if he came in and saw a bunch of old Easter decorations. So, we went around, taking down the Easter eggs the children’s groups had colored, sorting them by class, so the teachers could hand them back to the students. We were singing, “Peace Is Flowing Like a River,” as we worked and didn’t even hear Zayn and Pastor Dave come into the church.

  “What a beautiful song,” Pastor Dave said from behind us.

  My mother startled, holding her hand over her heart as she whirled around.

  I wasn’t as surprised—I’d seen them coming out of the corner of my eye, but had been too engrossed in getting a bit of tape off the glass to turn and see who was coming. There were more of us scattered around the church, taking down Easter decorations. They could have been anyone.

  But it was Zayn, along with the man who would become my stepfather.

  Pastor Dave stood there with a suitcase in one hand, his coat in the other. He was a handsome man with a winsome smile. His dark hair was curly, greying just a little at the temples. Zayn stood beside him in miniature, holding another suitcase. His hair was cut short, close-cropped, but he had the same smile, the same dimples. I thought he was cute.

  My mother held out her hand, once she was over her fright, and greeted them with a warm smile. “You must be Pastor Dave. Is this your son?”

  “Indeed.” There was that winsome smile that Pastor Dave used to sweep my mother off her feet. I didn’t notice then, but she flushed every time he was around. “This is Zayn. He likes baseball, he’s good at math, and he’s a fine servant of the Lord.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Zayn looked embarrassed by his father’s big introduction.

  Mom introduced us. “I’m Rita and this is my daughter, Melinda.”

  “Linnie.” I corrected her. I hated my full name and didn’t want the new pastor and his boy calling me by it.

  “Hello, Linnie.” Pastor Dave smiled at me. “Do you sing like an angel, too?”

  I shook my head, blushing. “She’s better than me.”

  “Nonsense.” My mother put an arm around my shoulder. “She’s the best girl out of all my altos.”

  It was like saying I was her favorite daughter—when I was her only daughter.

  “Welcome to our church,” I said, eager to change the subject. “What brings you to Michigan?”

  “I go where the Lord sends me, Linnie—and he’s sent me to your beautiful city and this beautiful church.” He turned completely around to look at the chapel. “It’s perfect. No need to change anything. And I do hope you’re the choir director, Rita, because I’m drafting you for the job if you’re not.”

  “I am.”

  That’s when I first noticed that Mom couldn’t stop smiling at the guy who would eventually become my stepdad. It was funny, because that’s when I noticed that Zayn, the boy who would eventually become my stepbrother, couldn’t stop smiling at me, either.

  My biological father fell down some stairs when I was seven and blew out his knee. Knee replacement surgery revealed bone cancer. He was gone before I was eight. Mom never remarried. She said the Lord would bring her the right man at the right time, if that was His will. Zayn’s mother was killed by a drunk driver who fell asleep behind the wheel and hit their mini-van head-on while she was heading to the bakery to get cookies for a church social. Zane had been a baby, a passenger in that
minivan, saved only by the will of God. Pastor Dave sought solace in the Lord and became such a passionate pastor that he didn’t have time to find someone new—until he met my mother.

  They were married within a year. Pastor Dave became “Dad” and Zayn became my same-age brother. He was awkward around me at first, sometimes tripping over his own feet or avoiding long conversations with me. We sang together in the choir and bonded over math homework. He helped me out quite a bit during our last two years of high school, and I repaid him by introducing him to Jess.

  Jess had been my best friend since our freshman year of high school. We didn’t go to the same church, but that didn’t matter. Jess and I were in choir together at school and only disagreed on one thing—sex.

  Abstinence was important to me. I’d even signed an abstinence contract our church gave out in our youth group. It wasn’t anything legally binding, of course. It was more of a pledge to Jesus and to ourselves to wait until we married the right person. Zayn signed one, too, and even held to it when he and Jess started dating. That was more than I could say for a lot of boys that went to our church.

  “I just don’t get it,” Jess said when I tried to explain the contract to her. “You make a pledge to not have sex until you’re married? Why? It’s not natural.”

  “What do you mean, it’s not natural?”

  “Sex is natural. It’s the most natural thing in the world.” Jess rolled over onto her belly on my bed, phone in hand, kicking her feet as she looked at me, where I sat doing homework at my desk. “Linnie—vaginas need penises.”

  I couldn’t help laughing at the seriousness of her tone. “Not until you’re married. Sex is meant to be saved for marriage.”

  “Says who?” Jess scoffed. We were seniors by then, ready to go out into the world. Sheep among the wolves. That’s what Pastor Dave—the man I now called “Dad”—would say. “Honestly, Linnie… we should be getting laid.”

  “Don’t be so…” I wrinkled my nose. “Crude.”

  “Sex is crude.” Jess sat up, cross-legged now, and I could see up her short skirt. I averted my eyes, blushing. “It’s crude and lewd and nude and… I can’t think of anything else that rhymes. But it’s hot. And it’s sex. You’re supposed to talk dirty and… and… fuck!”

  I gaped at her. “I don’t want sex like that.”

  “Why the heck not?” Jess grumbled, backing off from the obscenities. “I sure do. I want some big, hard co—er… penis—sliding inside me. God, I’m wet just thinking about it.”

  “Jess…” My tone held a warning, and I turned back to my math homework to hide my red face.

  “Linnie, come on.” She wasn’t letting it go. “You’re so pretty that you should be getting dick whenever you want it.”

  “I don’t want…” I cleared my throat. “Just any dick.”

  She hooted at my use of the word.

  “I want to wait for the right guy.”

  “Zayn’s the right guy for me.” Then Jess groaned, sounding pained, throwing herself dramatically down on the bed and putting her arm over her eyes. “Your brother is so hot, Linnie. I just gotta figure out a way to get into his pants.”

  I sighed.

  Jess and I repeated this conversation for months. I’d watched her and Zayn at school. She would hang all over him and show up in some outfit that showed off her legs or breasts. I noticed a lot of other boys, and even some girls, staring at her and making comments about her chest or her butt. I’d tell her to back off the slutty clothes and she’d show up in something even crazier the next day.

  Jess was always on her best behavior at our house, or at least that’s what Mom and Dad thought. Jess would show up in nice clothes that didn’t show off her body and was always polite and never did anything that would get her or Zayn in trouble.

  She’d wait for Mom and Dad to either leave the room or for them to look away for a moment and she’d squeeze Zayn’s thigh or lick his ear. Zayn would always push her hand away or shoot her a dirty look. He knew he’d be in serious trouble if our parents caught them.

  Jess got more aggressive after we all graduated high school. She knew Zayn was thinking about going into the military or to Grand Valley to play baseball, and she would be off to Michigan State by the fall. She was getting desperate, Zayn was getting annoyed, and I was stuck between my best friend and my brother.

  Jess and I were in the Arby’s drive-thru when the subject of her and Zayn having sex came up yet again as she ordered a large beef sandwich.

  “I wish your brother would give me his hot beef,” she lamented.

  I rolled my eyes. “Is that all you ever think about?”

  “Why shouldn’t I? Your brother has such a hot body, Linnie. All that baseball has done him good. I should be having sex with him and you should be having sex with Bud.”

  A rush of heat went to my face when she said it. Bud was one of Zayn’s baseball teammates. It was the first I heard anything about him being attracted to me.

  “Bud? Why Bud?”

  Jess looked surprised. “Haven’t you noticed how he always perks up whenever you’re around? He asks me about you all the time, and he flat-out told me you have the best ass he’s ever seen.”

  I squirmed in the passenger seat of Jess’s car. I had no idea how to react or what to think. “That’s…nice, I guess… but Bud’s not my type.”

  “Thank God.” Jess handed the drive-thru attendant her money. “I was beginning to think you either didn’t have a type or were secretly into girls. Who is your type? Chad Trotter? You two are always cracking jokes in choir.”

  “Chad’s gay.”

  Jess almost dropped her sandwich as the girl at the window handed it to her. “Chad Trotter’s gay?”

  “I can’t believe I knew this and you didn’t. It’s not like he hides it.”

  Jess pulled the car into a spot so she could eat. “So… who’s your type?”

  “I haven’t thought about it.”

  “You’re a liar.”

  “God will lead me to the right man.”

  “But haven’t you ever imagined what he might look like?”

  She had me there. “I suppose so.”

  Jess laughed. “I knew it. Who is he?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know if he’s one particular guy. Somebody who loves the Lord, for one. Someone who knows He’s led him to me. Someone handsome and quiet. Brown eyes, strong hands and arms that he could use to build us a house. Maybe a little bit of a beard.”

  “So… someone like Zayn.”

  Muscles in my neck twitched when she said it. “Wh… what?”

  “You pretty much just described Zayn.” Jess grinned at me and took another bite of her sandwich, chewing thoughtfully. Then, she exclaimed, “Holy crap! Linnie, do you have a crush on your stepbrother?”

  My stomach did a flip-flop. “Heavens, no! Why on Earth would you think that I wanted to…to…” I couldn’t finish the sentence or even the thought. It was disgusting, immoral, and just plain wrong. It was so wrong that I didn’t want to think about it.

  But Jess wouldn’t let it go.

  “I wouldn’t blame you if you did.” She licked Arby’s sauce off her lips. “He’s a dream. Those brown eyes are sweeter than chocolate. And he knows how to work that strong, silent vibe. I just wish he wasn’t so uptight. He barely even kissed me at prom. Everyone else gets laid after prom, but not me.”

  I shrugged again. “I didn’t either.”

  “You didn’t even go to prom because you hadn’t met the ‘right guy’.” Jess rolled her eyes. Then she smirked. “Although Bud would’ve wined, dined, and sixty-nined you, if you’d gone with him.”

  “Why didn’t he say anything?”

  “Who knows? I’m more curious now about whether or not Zayn knows you have a crush on him.”

  “I do not have a crush on my brother!”

  The words came out a lot stronger than I had intended.

  “Okay, okay. I’m just messing with you,” Jess said.


  “It’s not funny,” I said. “It’s not funny at all. It’s disgusting. It’s wrong. It’s wrong, wrong, wrong.”

  “All right, all right. You’ve convinced me.”

  I looked out the window as she crumpled the paper from her finished sandwich and put the car into gear. She headed toward my house and things got quiet. Houses whizzed by, but I wasn’t focused on the scenery. She was right—the idea that I had a crush on Zayn had messed with me. The idea had my heart beating so fast, I had to take several deep breaths to keep calm. It was a ridiculous idea. An insane idea.

  Why would Jess say that, anyway? Zayn was her guy. Didn’t it make her jealous, to think about him being with someone else? If he was mine, I thought, it would drive me crazy to think about him with another girl.

  “The sex will be great after you and Zayn get married,” I said softly out the window, breaking the silence. “You’ll be glad you waited.”

  Jess looked over at me like I’d just grown a unicorn horn. “Who says I’m going to marry him?”

  Now I was the confused one.

  I blinked at her. “You’ve been dating for almost two years.”

  “So?”

  “He… he likes you, Jess.”

  “Maybe.” She snorted. “But not enough to get busy with me. How am I supposed to marry someone if I don’t know if they’re good in bed or not? Sex is a huge part of marriage, Linnie. Bad sex can ruin a marriage. So can no sex at all. I’m not getting anything from Zayn now. How do I know he’ll be interested even after we’re married?”

  “Of course, he will.” I gave her a puzzled look. Was she crazy? “He’s just standing by his abstinence contract.”

  “We’re back to that again.” Jess sighed. “It’s a great excuse for him to not have sex with me, isn’t it?”

  “It’s not about that.” I frowned as she turned down my street. I couldn’t figure out how to explain it to her. She didn’t go to our church—didn’t go to any church—and it didn’t make any sense to her, the idea of abstinence. I think, for a long time, she took it as a challenge. Now, she was just getting tired of it. I wondered if she was going to break up with Zayn.