My Stepsis Wants A Facial! - Serena Sterling & Jimmy Bud

Serena got her looks from her mom, but now Mom’s latest husband brought a Spanish surprise into the house. Jimmy Bud—stepbrother by name only, six-pack by the gods—decided the guest room could be home for the whole summer. Serena stared at that sun-kissed guest long enough to make a decision: facial, ASAP. She fired off a one-line text: “Want to come on my face?” Three dots blinked, a door opened down the hall, and there he was, half-smile, half-hard already. “You serious?” She hooked two fingers in his belt, pulled him closer. “Dead serious. Door’s locked, lube’s on the nightstand, tongue still works if you want a preview.” Jimmy stopped thinking somewhere around the belt buckle. Clothes came off like they had somewhere better to be. Serena guided him down, mouth eager, hands bossy, riding the sort of reckless rhythm that knocks picture frames crooked. She switched positions like channels—knees on the headboard, bent over the dresser, legs over his shoulders—every angle a new dare. Sweat slicked skin; every slap of hips louder than the last. Jimmy’s breath went ragged, a telltale hitch right before he pulled out, straddled her chest, and painted her cheekbones, lashes, parted lips with thick ropes that dripped onto her tongue. Serena licked the corner of her mouth, grinned up at him, and said the only thing left to say: “Told you so.”