Alpha's Baby:A Secret Baby Romance(4)

By: Lauren Landish



We all waited with bated breath.

“Well?” Hanna demanded impatiently. “Who is it?”

Veronica tore her eyes away from the paper and my heart began to pound as her gaze centered on me like a hawk. “Bella James.”





Chapter 2





Stefan





I could never understand my attraction to my stepsister. Sure, she was hot, but so were many other girls around my age. I guess there was something very special about Bella. Maybe it was her sparkling green eyes, her sensual mouth, or her long, flowing, dark brown hair that always seemed to blow in the wind behind her like a banner. Or maybe it was the way she looked at me or the way she said my name softly that seemed to say that she wanted me.

Whatever the case, I found myself slowly falling in love with her over the years. It’d started in high school when one day, I just noticed that more than being my stepsister and best friend, she was a very beautiful girl too.

It was hard not letting my true feelings show whenever she was close. Not to mention the excitement that plagued me whenever we were in the same room. Sometimes, I would have to excuse myself to keep her from seeing my boner.

Because of this hypersensitivity to her presence, physical contact with her became incredibly difficult. It was at this time that I began to avoid her. My hormones were raging out of control and I feared that if I continued being in her presence, something awful would happen.

Eventually, I got a girlfriend, a pretty girl named Mindy. Mindy was pretty hot, with blonde hair, blue eyes, and big tits. Still, whenever I was with her, I could only fantasize about Bella and her pretty face.

Our relationship didn’t last long. I found myself quickly losing interest in Mindy. She just couldn't compare to my stepsister’s beauty, and she was quite the airhead.

That’s when I went on a dating spree, looking for someone who could make me forget about my desire for Bella. At the time, I was a very popular guy in high school, being a star athlete and all, and there was no shortage of girls that wanted me.

I’d bring them home, fuck ‘em, and then leave them when I got tired of them. I know it sounds shitty, but I was looking to fill a hole inside me. I couldn’t have Bella, so I needed to continually release that pent-up sexual frustration that she caused.

This was about the time when Bella began to treat me like utter shit, and I assumed it was because of all the girls I was bringing back home. She was probably thinking I was such a misogynistic douchebag.

From a certain point of view, she was right, but I wasn’t trying to be a douche. I wanted badly to tell her that I was doing it for the benefit of us both, on the grounds of our being stepbrother and stepsister. Our relationship could never be, and the quicker I could get over her, the better. And with each girl, I prayed that she would be the one who could make me forget Bella. Each time, it didn’t happen, and I was left frustrated as, just at the moment of climax, it was Bella’s face I saw in my mind, regardless of who was in bed with me. It was shitty for me to use them like that, but I can’t change it now.

Soon, I began to feel her hatred of me was for the best. It kept me away from her and reinforced the idea that we couldn’t be together.

Once it was time to go off to college, I knew that I would finally kick my secret obsession of Bella. Just like in high school, I’d be popular at college and would be able to fuck as many hot chicks as I wanted. I was happy because I’d finally be able to forget about Bella’s pretty face and gorgeous body.

Boy, was I wrong.



“Fuck ‘em up, Craig!” yelled someone within the rowdy crowd.

“Yeah, Craig! Don’t let that pussy upstart beat you!” yelled another.

Drowning out the taunts of my brothers, I growled as a line of sweat rolled down the side of my face, the veins standing out on my forearm. I refused to be baited, though I would have been happy to show those punks what a real ‘pussy’ was if I weren’t so engaged in defeating my opponent.

After all, I didn’t run three miles every day and work out in the gym five days a week for nothing.

At six-foot-two, I was built like a superhero with well-defined muscles all over my body. I was born an athlete, a star player. And like any star player, I was in it to win.

“Shit,” my opponent, Craig Parker, growled, sweat lining his face as we grappled with each other. Shirtless and covered with a sheen of perspiration, we were sitting at a table in the middle of the Alpha Gamma living room, engaged in a fierce arm-wrestling match. I had the upper hand, with Craig’s arm almost touching the table.

Craig was a worthy opponent, with muscles almost as well-defined as mine. But he lacked mental focus, and that was a weakness that I exploited to perfection. Victory begins in the mind, and I knew I had Craig beat there.

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