Picture Perfect Read online

  PICTURE PERFECT

  Evangeline Anderson

  www.loose-id.com

  Warning

  This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id® e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  Picture Perfect

  Evangeline Anderson

  This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Published by

  Loose Id LLC

  870 Market St, Suite 1201

  San Francisco CA 94102-2907

  www.loose-id.com

  Copyright © November 2008 by Evangeline Anderson

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.

  ISBN 978-1-59632-846-4

  Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader

  Printed in the United States of America

  Editor: Barbara Marshall

  Cover Artist: April Martinez

  Chapter One

  “Will you get off my case, Kurt?” I demanded, whirling to face my annoying stepbrother. “For the last time, I know what I’m doing. I’ve been modeling for the past five years now, in case you haven’t noticed, and I think I’m qualified to pick my own assignments without you butting in.” I turned back to the mirror and continued brushing my long auburn hair in quick, jerky strokes, but I could still see him in the glass, standing over me and glowering. His inky black hair and deep blue eyes were almost as startling a contrast as my own deep red hair and pale green eyes, but his skin was a deep, natural tan and mine was fair in the extreme ‑‑ what they used to call a rose leaf complexion.

  Anyone who saw us together would know by our very different coloring that we weren’t really related. But that didn’t keep Kurt from acting like the annoying big brother he’d been to me for the five years since my mom and his dad had gotten married.

  He wanted to screen my dates and make sure I got home safe if I went out late, which was bad enough. But when he started to say where I could go and what modeling jobs I could take, well, that was crossing the line. And the thing was, I couldn’t tell if he was being overprotective because he really thought of us as related, or because of the unspoken tension that still plagued us despite both our attempts to ignore it.

  I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think my stepbrother was a good-looking guy. He was working his way through USF with a company called “College Hunks Hauling Junk,” and the heavy lifting he did getting rid of people’s old appliances and other useless items had left him with muscles on top of muscles. His features were sharp and his eyes were such a brilliant, deep blue that they made people look twice at him. Some of my girlfriends had even asked me if he wore colored contacts, but there was nothing fake about Kurt, which, I guess, was one of the most attractive things about him.

  I knew he thought I was pretty too, even though he’d never said anything. It was the way I caught him looking at me sometimes when he thought I wouldn’t notice and the awkward way we acted around each other if we had to be in close proximity for any reason. We never sat too close on the couch, for instance, because the electrical current that seemed to exist between us flared into life and made sitting still impossible for both of us. I could literally feel the tiny hairs along my arms rising, and my pussy always got uncomfortably hot and wet whenever I was close enough to him to feel the heat of his big body and smell his warm scent of leather and musk. I was pretty sure I affected him the same way, so we tried to keep some distance between us at all times. Sometimes, though, being close was unavoidable.

  Several times on family vacations we’d had to share a hotel room, which was bad enough, but we usually made the most of it. I took one bed and Kurt took the other, and we both changed separately in the bathroom, careful that no skin was exposed. I even slept in a full set of pajamas despite the heat. But on the last vacation, things had gone horribly awry when I walked in on him while he was taking a shower.

  I had just been swimming and had water in my ears, so I didn’t hear him humming or the spray of the water hitting the shower curtain. All I could think of was getting out of my wet bikini and into a nice warm bath because the lake I had been swimming in was freezing.

  Kurt wasn’t in the bedroom, so I had already taken off my green bikini top, baring my full breasts and tight nipples. I walked into the bathroom, toweling my hair and pulled back the shower curtain only to find my stepbrother naked in the shower with the steaming water streaming down his sculpted abs.

  It was agonizingly embarrassing, of course, especially considering the way I hadn’t been able to stop staring. I still blush when I remember the way I was rooted to the spot, my mouth half open ‑‑ and drooling no doubt ‑‑ as I looked him over, unable to tear my eyes away. His naked body was big and hard and glistening wet, and for the first time I could see his cock. It was long and thick, nestled against one of his muscular thighs like a sleeping snake.

  Kurt simply looked back at me, matching me stare for stare, not saying anything. His eyes had traveled over my face and then down, and suddenly, I remembered my topless state. I took a step back, clutching my blue and yellow beach towel to my chest and wishing I could hide in the clouds of steam escaping from the shower.

  “I-I’m so sorry,” I stuttered. “I just wanted a bath. I didn’t know…know you were in here.”

  Kurt still didn’t say anything. He didn’t ask me to leave, but he didn’t ask me to join him either ‑‑ as if I could. We shared the same last name, for God’s sake, and we weren’t living in hillbilly holler where such a relationship might be, if not condoned, then at least tolerated. Just because there was no real blood tie between us didn’t mean that getting hot and bothered about my stepbrother was in any way acceptable.

  Eventually, I regained enough control of my motor functions to stumble out of the steamy bathroom, feeling weak in the knees and wondering if it was possible to die of embarrassment. I spent the rest of the vacation avoiding my stepbrother assiduously and wishing he weren’t so good-looking and that I weren’t so weak. It was wrong to feel the way I did and I knew it, but there didn’t seem to be anything I could do about it.

  Even though Kurt and I had never mentioned the incident, it wasn’t long after that vacation that he moved out of the house and into an apartment of his own. I stayed at home, both grateful to have the house more to myself and sorry because I missed the big lug. When we could get around the sexual tension and the way he irritated me when he tried to run my life, Kurt and I actually had some pretty interesting conversations. He could be sweet and funny and tell dirty jokes that made me laugh until milk came out of my nose. It was only when he got too close or we accidentally touched that things got uncomfortable.

  It turned out that I didn’t have to worry about missing him too much, though. I was always running into him on the USF campus where he was a senior and I was a sophomore, and he came back home to visit almost every weekend. Supposedly, he came to see his dad, but it seemed like he always wound up spending time with me instead ‑‑ at a safe distance, that was.

  Of course, our parents had no idea what was going on under the surface of our