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Such a huge prick...
Tilly -
They call him The Donkey because of the size of his dick. I call him it because he’s a complete and total ass.
I hate Landon Maddox with a passion, and I haven’t even met him yet. Underwear model, star quarterback, arrogant, muscle-headed prick.
I never wanted a stepbrother in the first place, and now I have one that thinks he’s a God.
Seriously.
If his most famous asset isn’t beaming down at me from billboard posters all over the city, he’s spread across the front pages of every single newspaper, always for the wrong reasons.
Landon Maddox is everywhere I look, and now I have to spend the next seven days with him for real, squashed into a tiny cottage in the middle of nowhere.
I’m not even kidding. Family vacation with the man I spend my lifetime trying to avoid. Getting to know the enemy with nowhere left to escape.
That’s not the worse thing either.
Apparently there aren’t enough bedrooms for us all, which means The Donkey and I have to share.
Me and The Donkey in the same room together for a week? With that thing between his legs?
Now I know I’m definitely going to scream.
Landon -
There are two things I do better than anyone else on this planet, play football and please women, and right now I can’t do either of them.
One more front page headline that's not about football and my career is dead in the water.
As of now, I’m officially sworn off it.
Landon Maddox is out of the game.
No more late nights, no more bad behavior and definitely no more bed-hopping until Coach says I can prove otherwise.
This vacation was his idea.
One week in the middle of nowhere to keep myself out of trouble.
No cell phone signal, no distractions and absolutely nothing to tempt me.
Maybe it’s just what I need to take my mind off it.
I mean, what can possibly go wrong?
I’m here with my family after all.
Donkey is an 80,000 word secret baby, stepbrother sports romance light on the sports and heavy on the steam!
***
We can’t stay here. Not alone or together or whatever it is, we just can’t. It’s not that I don’t trust him either, it’s that I don’t trust myself. We are literally in the middle of nowhere and we are alone. Nobody can see us. Nobody can hear us. There’s probably not even a single thing alive in a half mile radius. The dead bird at the bottom of the garden is about as close as we’ll get. It’s a recipe for disaster, the perfect setting for something to happen. Something that I am bound to regret.
This is Landon fucking Maddox. This is the man that has been filling my scrapbooks and my teenage fantasies for as long as I realized they were even a thing. This is the number one prize douchebag that is on every other billboard poster across the country. This is The Donkey, my fucking stepbrother now too, and here I am alone with him. If I don’t do something about it, I’ll end up doing something I shouldn’t.
Donkey
A Stepbrother Sports Romance
Stephanie Brother
Prologue
Tilly
I can’t believe this is happening.
“All of us?”
“Of course all of us.”
“Him as well?”
“Who, him?”
“The Ass. Him.”
“Don’t call him that, Tilly, he’s your stepbrother.”
Stepbrother. It’s always been impossible to hear that word and believe it to be true. Landon fucking Maddox is now my stepbrother. The guy is a certified prick and I have to call him family.
“I don’t think I can.”
Star athlete, underwear model, arrogant as hell, loves himself too much to take seriously, one hundred percent womanizer. I definitely don’t want to be locked away for a week in the middle of nowhere listening to him go on and on about the string of women he’s bedded, or the amount of cocaine he’s snorted, or the vast sums of money he earns minute by minute. I don’t even know why he wants to come anyway. A family holiday in the middle of the countryside can’t be something that’s all that interesting for him.
“Honey, this is our first holiday together as a family. Landon’s managed to get time off especially and you haven’t even met him yet, so this is a perfect opportunity for you two to get to know each other.”
“You mean it’s the preseason, and he’s serving out a ban for the fight he got into at that club in New York.”
Mom gives me her glaring eyes.
“It was all over the news.”
I wish I were able to say that statement and sound convincing. I feel like in doing so I’ve already weakened my argument.
“That was a misunderstanding and Landon’s under a lot of pressure.”
Yeah, right. Trying to find a job in this climate, while having to live at home, that’s pressure. Throwing a football and taking your clothes off isn’t.
“Hasn’t he got better things to do?”
“Darling, anyone would think you didn’t want him to come. After years and years of complaining about being an only child - and don’t tell me you didn’t - I thought you’d finally be pleased to have someone you can call a brother. A famous one at that. Talented too.”
Mom’s waving her chopping knife at me provocatively. If she looked out over the top of her glasses any further they’d fall off her nose.
“Maybe he’ll let you sell one of his signed jerseys.”
Or his jockstrap. The thought makes me shudder.
“I’m nineteen years old, Mom, I’ve passed that phase.”
Mom gets married, and I have to put up with the consequences. It’s not easy seeing your stepbrother everywhere you go, every other billboard advert or metro station, every single magazine I flick through. There his is, The Donkey, perfect chest, hungry eyes, huge package just glaring down at me like he owns the world.
You’d have thought Mom was some kind of gold digger or something with the way things have turned out, but Marvin is a normal, down to earth, working class guy, absolutely nothing like his son. They met in Walmart of all places, and she didn’t know anything at all about his star studded, trouble-a-minute bad boy son, until she finally met him a year into their relationship and recognized him from one of his billboard posters. How embarrassing is that? Your future stepmother perving over your enormous bulge while flicking through Cosmopolitan. I mean, I know I’m on thin ice, but that’s definitely way worse than me doing it.
Mom’s cooking for Marvin tonight. Despite getting married, they’re not even living together yet, which I find both bizarre and comfortably reassuring. He’s coming over for dinner, which he does fairly often, after which he will either go back home or stay the night, depending on the day of the week. It’s a little odd, but I leave them to it. Marvin is way better for my mom that my real dad ever was, so as long as she’s happy, I’m happy too.
What I’m not happy about is the prospect of spending a week on lockdown so far into the countryside you can’t even get a cell phone signal.
