Bad Boy's Baby (38 page)

She dropped the suitcase. “How dare you take the master bedroom!”

“What’s wrong with this bedroom?”

“It should be…this was my father’s house!”

I tilted my head. “And my mother’s.”

“Don’t you think I should have the master bedroom? This is
my
house, built with
my
father’s money.”

Was everything going to be such a fucking pissing contest with her? She wouldn’t give up until I slept in the yard.

I wouldn’t stop until I had her in the bed with me.

But we wouldn’t be sleeping.

“I thought you’d take the room down the hall,” I said. Did she even see the monstrosity her father specifically designed for her? Like a scene from fucking Narnia. “It has a better balcony.”

“I don’t want a balcony. I want the master bedroom. I want you gone. I want—” She groaned, frustrated. “I don’t know what to say to you! You’re making this more difficult than it needs to be. Are you that much of a child?”

“I’m not the one throwing a tantrum because she doesn’t want to share her things.”

She not-so-silently counted to ten. “Zach, don’t make this harder than it already is.”

“Gotta admit. I’ve never heard a pretty girl say that before.”

“I can’t believe this.” Shay paced the room. “I’ve been here for five minutes and already you’re being a monumental asshole.”

“I was sleeping.”

“I thought this could work. I thought you were serious when you said we’d share this place.”

“What did I do? I was
sleeping
.”

Shay wove her fingers through her thick, ebony curls.

“This is crazy. I don’t even
know
you—” She pointed a finger at me. “And if you say anything about
knowing
me in a biblical way Imma smack that smirk off your face.”

Challenge accepted.

“Come on.” I extended my arms. “Do you really think I’m some big, bad troublemaker out to rob you blind?”

“Maybe.”

“Do you think I’m some sexual fiend who will creep on you in the middle of the night?”

Her almond eyes flicked over me. “Probably.”

“Think I’m a dangerous, powerful man who will threaten your pretty little body?”

She stepped closer. Her voice lowered, her best attempt at sounding intimidating. “How would I know?”

Shay was within my arm’s reach. Entirely too close. I could have snatched her in my grasp and thrown her on the bed. If I had my way, I’d bury my face between her mocha legs and lick until I had my fill. She’d tasted like everything perfect—that first bite of summer ice-cream, cake batter straight from the spatula, a sip of forbidden alcohol before I turned twenty-one.

I remembered lapping up her honeyed desire, and it tortured my dreams every night. She was so unbelievably sweet I would have offered my half of the house just to
look
at that tight little pussy once more.

My jeans dug into my cock. It wasn’t the pressure I wanted. Shay licked her lips. She got flustered when she realized she was staring.

My growl reserved for her and her alone. “You know you have nothing to fear around me.”

“I’m sharing a house with a perfect stranger. It’s wise to be careful.”

“Then let me put your concerns to rest.” My smile wasn’t meant to charm her. It was as much of a warning as my throbbing cock allowed. “I’m not someone you run from. You’re gonna come to me. Just say the word, and I swear, not an inch of your beautiful body would regret climbing into my bed.”

“You’re one cocky son of a bitch.”

“When you have a cock like mine, you get to be a bastard.”

She didn’t argue. Couldn’t argue. She knew I was right. She remembered how it pounded within her, how every frantic thrust and deliberate slam was meant to earn a not-so-innocent mew from her trembling lips.

And that was the way it should have been. None of this
but you’ve been my step-brother for a couple days
bullshit. Not the territorial fear that somehow I conned her family out of millions.

It wasn’t sex between us. It was something addicting.

Life-affirming.

Ball-fucking-shattering.

And I knew she felt it too. She tried to shy away from me. She faced me only after building her defenses. I’d strip them as easily as her respectable little blouse and skirt.

She couldn’t fool me. I saw what she hid in her panty drawer. Beneath the conservative shirts and thigh-hugging skirts, Shay expressed herself with thongs, lace, and ribbons. Dozens of colors. A handful of designs.

Just waiting for the right man to lay her down, nip the elastic, and drag that silk over the dark paradise that crested between her legs.

“You believe me now?” I chuckled through a husky command. “You’ve got nothing to fear sharing a house with me.”

She licked her lips. “I have everything to fear.”

“Like what?”

“Like why you’re looking at me like that.”

She was lucky I was only looking. “You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever met.”

“At least in this port.”

“I’ve been around the world, baby. Searched high and low for a perfect face, perfect tits, perfect pussy.”

She arched her eyebrow. “Haven’t looked in the branches of the family tree then?”

“Climb in deep enough and no one would ever see us.”

“And that’s why I don’t trust you.”

I laughed. “No one said anything about trust. But don’t worry. I’m not coming after you.” I lured her closer with a smirk. “Not when you’ll come to me.”

“Unlikely. I’ll be too comfortable sleeping in
this
bed.”

“You want it?” I extended my arms. “Come and get it.”

She took the bait. Shay grabbed my hand and tugged, unsuccessfully pulling me from the bed. I resisted only enough to toss her off-balance. She tumbled forward, falling into my arms.

Then I did what every red-blooded American patriot would do.

I tucked her under me, wrapped one hand in her hair while the other caressed her cheek, and I lowered my lips to hers.

What she squealed in protest silenced with the flick of my tongue against hers. Shay’s full, perfect lips surrendered within moments, softening and nibbling with the intensity of my kiss. I devoured her, worshiped her, and promised to replicate every single flick, bite, and suck on her other, equally-deserving areas.

I wanted more than a kiss.

I
needed
more than a kiss.

Christ, after everything I had gone through—the injuries and recoveries, dealing with Mom’s bullshit, hiding her cocaine-induced death that the cops kept silent out of respect for the family’s money—I deserved more than R&R. T&A was more like it, and the only one I wanted to recuperate with was Shay.

She warmed beneath me. I broke my hold on her lips to kiss the cocoa perfection of her neck. I nibbled over the delicate hollow at the base of her throat.

She had liked that before.

She shivered.

She still did.

Shay hid nothing from me, not while she writhed in full-body shudders from just the barest hint of my touch.

And I planned to do much more than touch.

I gripped her hips, hard and fierce, just like before. Her low purr surged my blood to my cock, and I pressed that promise against her.

She remembered that too.

Gasped. Scowled.

Pushed?

“Get off of me.”

Whoa
.

I did as the lady commanded, backing away as she burst off the bed. She covered her face, placing as much distance between her and my petty officer as she could.

“Easy.” I raised my hands. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s
wrong
?” Shay’s voice shrilled. “What’s wrong is that we are
brother and sister
.”

“Not…really.” I shrugged. “Technically, I guess. Is it that big of a deal?”

Apparently it mattered to her. “I can’t believe I kissed you.” She glanced down. “You unbuttoned my
shirt
? How! When?”

I wiggled my fingers, catching a glimpse of a lacey bra stacked with cocoa secrets. “It’s a talent.”

“Oh my
God
!” She turned to fix her blouse. “This absolutely, positively can’t happen, Zach. It can’t. This is so wrong.”

“Calm down.”

“We’re
family
.”

“And we didn’t do anything.” My throbbing cock could attest to that. “We’re fine. Look at us. Brother and sister. Perfectly legit. Not fucking.”

“Not fucking. Right.”

I’d come just from hearing her say the word. Damn it. I hoped the mansion had the coldest goddamned water running through its pipes. I suffered in the purest fantasy of the press of her lips, the tightness of her slit, and the perfect breathy gasp of her excitement.

Shay was worked up too, but not in the good way.

She paced, biting a lip swollen from my kisses and twisting her fingers in the long curls that deserved to be spread over a pillow, not tied within a low ponytail. I rose from the bed. I didn’t know what hurt more—my head or my fucking cock. I grabbed my shirt and duffle bag.

“Take the room,” I said.

Shay looked at me, still panting from the breathless excitement of what almost happened.

Should have happened.

Goddamn
it.

“Really?” She said.

“Yeah. I don’t care where I crash. Take it.”

She nodded, swallowing her victory with the grace of a champion. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, enjoy it.” I tapped on the door frame, catching her eye with a sworn promise. “But remember one thing.”

She crossed her arms. “What’s that?”

I savored her form one last time, searing it into a memory I’d have to use up later. “The next time I step foot in this room, it’ll be cause you invited me. And then?” I winked. “We won’t be getting much sleep.”

Chapter Eight - Shay

“
Your call is important to us. Please stay on the line. Did you know you can do all your billing by e-mail? Just log into your account via the login portal—
”

That was it. I was done.

A girl could only take so many automated operators before snapping. I’d chuck the phone in the garbage disposal. I muted the call before shouting.

 “How in the world am I supposed to
log in
when I called for
internet setup!”

Two
hours
on hold just to get the internet switched into my name. The damn house was too big for one router, so we had a system of three linked up with triangulated signals and boosters and effects straight out of Star Trek. And we
still
couldn’t get anything to work because nothing had transferred to my name yet.

The ISP was only the latest in the line of uncooperative customer service agents. The power supplier was less than pleased by my father’s photocopied death certificate. The gas company insinuated I lied because no one living in a thirty thousand square foot mansion would be managing the transfer herself. And the municipality reminded me of the nastygram in the mail. Apparently, my father built his brick fence four inches too high and this somehow posed a threat to the township’s development ordinance.

If only the brick could grind like my teeth. I’d wear it down in only a couple nights.

I checked the time. I was supposed to be back at the college in less than an hour to deal with student teaching arrangements for the next semester. Since I was living at the mansion, I had to finagle a new assignment, one closer to home but out of my assigned school district.

That didn’t make my advisor happy.

Music pumped from the stairs. I stared over the kitchen counter as Zach strutted past me to get another Gatorade from the fridge. I averted my eyes.

“Don’t you ever wear a shirt?” I asked.

Zach flexed as he drank. He showed off his perfect body, and it wasn’t an accident. Zach loved nothing more than teasing me with the one temptation I wholeheartedly denied.

I hated that he had no shame about it. What he lacked in humility, he packed in sheer, brute muscle. I never met a man more focused on fitness and strength than him. It must have been a SEAL thing. I tried not to imagine him in the gym.

Shirtless. Lifting weights. Grunting.  Sweating.

“Like what you see?” Zach offered me his dimpled grin.

Great. I stared. I checked my chin for drool. No wetness there. Wish I could say the same about other places.

I put the phone on speakerphone while the company blared tinny music at me. I handed Zach a glass before he took
another
drink directly from the milk carton.

“Please,” I said. “That’s gross.”

His eyes revealed him—an impish green that promised only trouble, aggravation, and another night alone in bed, regretting ever sending him away.

“You’d had worse,” he teased.

And he’d never let me live it down. I wagged the glass. “You’re a guest, not a puppy. I shouldn’t have to housebreak you.”

“I’d love to see you get a collar on me.”

Nope. Wasn’t playing. Too aggravated with the phone call. I groaned again.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“Life.”

“Care to be more specific?”

I ended the call. Those were two hours I’d never recover. “I’ve gotta go to the campus to rearrange my schedule, and I still haven’t sorted out the internet.”

Zach shrugged. “I’ll do it.”

Yeah, right. “I can do it when I get back.”

“Let me. I live here too.”

I arched an eyebrow.

He smirked. “For a little bit. Or, until you beg me to stay.”

“Unlikely.”

He crossed his arms. The muscles bulged. He didn’t even notice. “My mom was also on the deed and utilities. I can handle this one. I’ll get your name on it too.”

I didn’t have time to argue. Or the patience. Or the strength. Hanging near Zach 24/7 wore me down. He was sweet. He was charming.

And he was the sexiest man I ever saw.

I tried to keep the distance between us, but he knew just how to get under my skin. It was better than under my sheets, but just barely. He liked teasing as much as he liked fooling around, but it only wound me up. Zach had more control over his urges than I did.