My Street Fighting Stepbrother - Book 1 (Stepbrother Erotic Romance)
ok Drake, I told you not to worry about
it.”
     
    “Come on Beth, that ain’t right. At least take money
for gas, it’s almost 40 miles round trip.”
     
    I started to get annoyed. “Dammit Drake, I told you
not to worry about it! Now come here.”
     
    He pulled further back. “No, Beth. I promise you,
you don’t want to see me like this.”
     
    I placed my hand on his shoulder. “It’s ok. I do. I
want to help you.”
     
    He sighed a bit and reached over to the wall, with
his hand guarding the light switch. “You’ve got to promise me you
won’t freak out. I know you.”
     
    “I promise I wont.”
     
    He flipped the light switch and my eyes doubled in
size when I saw his face. His right eye was the size of a tennis
ball and sealed up tight, his lips were like two balloons ready to
burst with blood, and dark blue bruises covered the rest of his
face. Not a single shred of normal flesh remained. His white muscle
shirt was covered in droplets of blood. I could hardly recognize
him. Gone was his strong jawline and his near perfect smile. His
green eyes were filled with blood, his black hair matted to his
face. I noticed that as he moved he nursed his side. “Take of your
shirt; I need to see what they’ve done to you.”
     
    He groaned as he lifted his arms above his head, he
couldn’t do it himself. I pulled the shirt up from his waist and
over his head. There were huge contusions and bruises on his ribs,
stomach, and chest. “Jesus Christ Drake!” I could hardly see his
chiseled abs and perfectly formed chest under the damage. Even his
tattoos were hard to spot.
     
    He winced in pain. “I’ll be ok. I just need to
rest.”
     
    I didn’t agree. “We need to get you to the hospital
and file a report with the police. We can’t let whomever did this
to you get away with it. I won’t let them!”
     
    “No! No Doctors and no cops. I don’t want the hassle
or the expense. I can’t afford it. I’ll heal; I just need a few
days.”
     
    “A few days? You mean a few months! How are you
going to work like this, huh? Who’s going to watch Jackson? Have
you thought about that? I’ve got school to deal with. I can’t be
around here everyday, and even though I want to spend every moment
with my nephew it’s just not possible!”
     
    “I know,” he said. “I’m not trying to pick a fight.
Shit, you act like it’s my fault I got my ass kicked.”
     
    “I know. You’re right. I’m just trying to help.” I
hurried to the bathroom, turned on the bathtub’s faucet and plugged
up the drain. I pulled a bag of Epsom salts from under the bathroom
sink and emptied the entire bag into the pooling warm water,
swishing them around with my hands until they dissolved.
     
    Drake stumbled into the bathroom, bracing himself
against the walls. “What’s that for?”
     
    “It’ll make you feel better. Come on now, take off
your clothes and get in the tub.”
     
    He hesitated, almost as if he was shy.
     
    “Drake, I’ve seen it all before.”
     
    “Yea when I was sixteen,” he chuckled, but quickly
stopped as he grimaced in pain.
     
    “Can it really have changed all that much? Now come
on.” I turned off the faucet.
     
    He grimaced, unhooking his belt and pulling it
through the hoops of his jeans, and then unbuttoned his fly,
letting his pants fall to the ground. He pulled off his boxers and
then I saw his dick. Oh my, it had certainly changed. It was much,
much bigger than I remembered. I turned away quickly, my heart
racing.
     
    “I thought you’d seen it all before?” he said,
trying his best to smile through the pain as he stumbled into the
bath.
     
    “Yea, of course I have. It’s not a big deal, it’s
just a penis, right?”
     
    He smiled. “Right…”
     
    He laid back in the bath and slid backward until he
was submerged. The damage was even worse than I thought. His
knuckles were cracked open and bleeding, the water turning pink and
brown at the same time. He emerged from

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