My Stepdad and Stepbrother Took Turns Breeding Me on the Plane Novel – Chapter 1 “No way that thing is airworthy,” I shot a look at my stepdad. “It looks like a oversized tin can that barely fits three people, let alone four. Please tell me you’re not seriously expecting me to ride shot-lap on Damon.” This was a far cry from the sleek private jet I’d been visualizing. Stepping inside, the layout was a joke: just two single seats bolted down tandem-style right behind the cockpit. I ping-ponged my gaze between my mom, my stepbrother Damon, and the microscopic aircraft. We were going to be packed in there like sardines. My stepdad let out a heavy sigh. “Look, it’s the only bird left in their hangar that can actually get off the ground.” Thanks to our bus showing up late, we’d blown right past our scheduled departure window, and some other high-roller had snatched up our original charter. “It’s either you get on board, or you enjoy spending the night solo at the terminal,” Damon chimed in.
He shifted his weight, crossing his arms over his chest while looking down his nose at me. I threw a daggers-sharp glare back at him. Honestly, the only thing keeping me from clocking him across the jaw was the intimidating flex of his stupidly jacked biceps. Damon had been an absolute menace ever since my mom married his old man two years ago. The guy practically held a PhD in pushing my buttons, and right now, he was totally thriving—acting all nonchalant like he wasn’t about to be crammed into this flying coffin with the rest of us. “Your brother’s right, sweetie. We don’t have a Plan B,” Mom interjected. “Quit dragging your feet.” Unbelievable. Even Mom was backing him up. I watched her squeeze past and claim the absolute back row. Dad slid directly into the pilot’s seat; he was the only one with a license, which was the whole reason we’d opted to fly private to this resort island in the first place. Which left exactly one open spot… I stared down at the lone seat in the middle row, dreading the brutal reality of the situation: I was going to have to sit on Damon’s lap.
To make matters worse, I was wearing a tiny sundress I’d specifically picked out for beach vibes. While I was still paralyzing myself with hesitation, Damon had already hopped in, claimed the seat, and clicked his belt shut. I looked back at Mom in a final, desperate plea for a lifeline. I made a move toward the back, but Mom put a hand out to block me. “The clearance is too low back here, honey. If you sit on me, the canopy won’t latch.” Right on cue, Damon leaned back, throwing me his trademark smirk with a cocked eyebrow. Seeing how visibly panicked I was, he literally spread his arms wide in a mock welcome. He never missed an opportunity to mess with my head. If the girls at our school could see what a massive jerk he actually was, I swear his fan club would evaporate overnight—no matter how much his face looked like it was sculpted by a Greek god. Grit-teething, I finally lowered myself onto his lap. It wasn’t what I bargained for. His thighs were rock-hard from years of varsity football, making the seating arrangement anything but cozy. Honestly, given the whole step-sibling dynamic, calling it “uncomfortable” was a massive understatement.
I would have gladly traded this for a cramped middle seat on a five-hour budget airline flight over ten minutes of this torture. Annoyed, I squirmed around trying to find some semblance of comfort, “accidentally” driving my elbow right into his midsection. The very next second, Damon’s heavy arm clamped firmly around my waist. A jolt went through me and I tried to bolt, but his grip was ironclad, pinning me down. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I hissed, twisting around to confront him. “Seatbelt duty,” he shrugged, completely unfazed. “Just making sure you don’t go airborne if we hit a pocket.” I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt. “Oh, my hero.” If the plane didn’t literally have a roof, I might have tried jumping out. “Alright, Lila, stop giving your brother a hard time,” Mom scolded from behind us. I opened my mouth to fire back, but Dad started flipping toggles on the dash. “Hold onto your hats, folks. Taking off.” The canopy sealed shut with a thud, and the entire frame began to rattle as the engine revved into high gear. As the roar peaked during our ascent, Damon leaned in close to my ear, his voice dropping. “You’re welcome, sis.” To cut through the engine’s scream, he had to crowd my personal space entirely, his face practically pressed against the crook of my neck.
His warm breath brushed over my bare skin, sending an involuntary shiver straight down my spine. I instinctively tried to shrink away, but the cabin was a closet and Damon’s arm was locked tight around me. Frustrated, I tried to plant another elbow in his ribs. Damon muttered a low curse under his breath, snapped his hand down, and grabbed both my wrists. He crossed my arms over my own stomach, pulling me flush against his solid chest and completely neutralizing me. Unbelievable. Damon had always been an arrogant asshole, but this caveman routine was new.