Defender: A Stepbrother Romance (10 page)

I’d never been so turned on. I wanted him so desperately that I couldn’t think of anything else. I reached for him again but again he pulled me away. And then he stepped back, making me whimper with disappointment. But then he turned me over and…
hell, yes!
—he slid inside of me from behind, and the angle forced him against places that had never been touched, places that were jumping for joy to finally join into the erotic game.

He buried himself as deep as he could, jerking against me hard enough that my thighs slammed against the front of the desk. He groaned as he leaned close to my shoulder, his mouth nibbling at the corners of my throat. And then he began to move, thrusting slow, but solidly, against me. Each thrust sent pulses of pleasure through my body, making everything tingle, everything explode with sensation. I closed my eyes and grabbed the edge of the desk, holding on for the ride of my life. And it was just that. His thrusts grew steadily, moving into a quick, hard pounding that made me want to scream. It’s amazing that I didn’t. I was so focused on the pleasure that they just got lodged in my throat until I couldn’t breathe.

That familiar tingle began before I would have thought possible, ringing through me so quickly that my knees went weak. If he hadn’t been holding me from behind, if he hadn’t been pressed so tightly against my ass, I might have fallen over.

Then I heard his groans, and the world went dark.

I
couldn’t catch
my breath. It was ridiculous, really, and I’d never lost control quite like that before. But hearing those words fall from Eden’s lips—
I so desperately had wanted you to kiss me
—drove me to a place I’d never been before. All those years I’d thought she walked away from me that night because she didn’t want me, that she was thinking all the things I wouldn’t let myself think, that it was wrong to want my stepsister, that it was incestuous somehow. I thought she saw me as some sort of dirty, sex-crazed fool.

So to hear her speak those words, even after so long, was like revealing that the past nine years had been some sort of lie. It cleared the roadblock that had kept me from the one woman I’d always wanted.

My breathing slowly settled. I slid back, causing Eden to moan. It was a beautiful sight, Eden spread out on that low table, her skin still flushed from her orgasm. The only thing that would make the sight better would be if she was laid out in my bed, her dark hair splayed out against my pillows. It was an image I’d had locked in the back of my mind for so much longer than I wanted to admit. I wanted it—no, I needed it—right then like I needed the air I was breathing, air that was scented by her, by her perfume, her skin, her sex.

I gathered her into my arms, and she came willingly, her muscles fluid. My knees were weak, so I’m not sure how I managed to stumble into the bedroom without hurting us both, but I did. And then she was on that hotel bed, and I was tugging the rest of her clothes from her body, melting when she smiled at me.

She grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled me down onto the bed with her. She sought my lips, and I let her steal them, tasting her like a poor man tasting caviar for the first time. She moved into me, pressing her near-naked body to mine.

I suddenly needed to be naked too, to feel my flesh against hers, and I tugged at my shirt. Seeing what I was doing, she began helping, undoing a few buttons, pulling at material that threatened to split under her more than desperate fingers. There was an urgency in her touch that suggested unrequited desire, despite how close we had already been. And that made me starting climbing those heights again.

Damn, this girl was made for me!

When I was inside her again, the urgency subsided a little. I ran my hands over the inside of her arms, enjoying the silkiness of her skin. My lips explored her neck, my teeth nibbling here and there until her moans rose to an octave. And then her breasts, undulating with every desperate gulp of air, her nipples so beautiful against the paleness of her skin. I drew one, then the other into my mouth, loving the feel of the puckered skin against my tongue.

Why had I always thought the rush to satisfaction was so much better than the path? This…I wanted it to last forever. I wanted to be inside of her forever. I wanted to feel the pleasure of her against me, I wanted to hear her moans, wanted to feel her body—so very alive—writhing against mine. I loved the way her lips swelled after they were well-kissed, the way her skin reddened when she was coming close to orgasm.

The only thing was…she wouldn’t look at me. I touched her jaw, drew her face back to mine, but her eyes were tightly closed as though she was lost in her own world, her own sexual fantasy. And that idea—that she was thinking of someone, or something, other than me—was unbearable.

“Look at me, Eden,” I whispered, my voice so hoarse I barely recognized it myself.

She turned into me and pressed her mouth to my throat. The heat of her breath, the velvetiness of her touch, drew a groan like none other from my lips. And that made her sigh, made her move her hips that much closer to mine.

She was pushing me over the edge.

“Please, baby,” I whispered. “Look at me.”

Something about my tone must have finally cut through the fog of passion in her mind. She lay back against the pillows and looked up at me, her eyes clouded with more than desire. There was such emotion in those expressive eyes, I would have been a fool to miss it all. But I wasn’t a fool.

I met her stare, and every thought in my soul was probably radiating in my eyes. Normally, I wouldn’t have been okay with that. I’m not a man who reveals his feelings easily. But I’d waited too long for that moment, for Eden.

She wrapped her long legs around me, squeezed her fingers against my flesh. And, for an instant, we were locked in an amazing moment where nothing else seemed to matter. When she began to come, her pinnacle sent me rushing toward my own, and once again, I couldn’t catch my breath.

I rolled onto my side when we were spent, and she matched my movements, curling up against my chest. Again, I wasn’t that kind of man. When I was done with a woman in my bed, I usually avoided the whole cuddling and talking thing. But I liked the way Eden felt in my arms.

She mumbled something against my chest, and the vibration of her words moved through me, but I didn’t hear a thing she said. I touched her forehead, urging her back.

“What?”

“Thank God for car accidents.”

I stared at her for an instant. And then I laughed harder than I had in years.

We lay there for a little while, both of us lost in our own thoughts. She rolled onto her side and pulled my arm under head, using it as a pillow as she ran her fingers slowly over mine. I did the same, losing myself in a pattern I repeatedly wrote on her ribs, allowing my fingertip to occasionally wander over the rounded edge of her breast.

“Do you think I’ll go to jail?” she asked suddenly.

“With me as your lawyer? No.”

“Seriously,” she said as though I was laughing again.

“Seriously.”

“I don’t even remember what happened that night. One minute, I was getting my keys from the valet, the next I woke up in the hospital and Daddy was telling me they had a blood alcohol test that said I was beyond drunk at the time of the accident.”

I kissed her temple lightly. “Do you think you might remember some things if I asked the right questions?”

“I don’t know.”

I ran my hand slowly down her side, my fingers playing over her hip. “Do you remember getting into the car?”

“I remember getting my keys from the valet. I remember the smell of my car.” She was quiet for a second. “I have a memory of pulling away from the curb in a hurry. I don’t remember why. Maybe I was just annoyed. Or maybe I saw that guy come out of the restaurant…”

“The bad blind date?”

“Yeah. Guy was a terrible bore. I don’t know what Jeannie must think of me to set me up with someone like that.”

“Jeannie. How come every bad thing that’s ever happened in your life has Jeannie’s fingerprints all over it?”

She chuckled even as she denied it. “Not everything.”

“Almost everything.”

“We’ve known each other since kindergarten. She’s my best friend.”

“She’s a harbinger of bad luck.” I tugged her closer against me. “Do you remember pulling into traffic?”

Eden closed her eyes, a deep sigh escaping. “I remember pulling away from the curb. And then…it’s just a jumble of images. A traffic light, my car radio…nothing specific.”

“Do you remember hitting your head?”

She reached up, almost instinctively, her fingers seeking the thin, red scar that ran from the right side of her forehead and disappeared deep into her hairline. Her eyes still closed, she was quiet for a long time. And then…

“I have this flash. But I don’t know…”

“Tell me.”

“I remember the light turning green. Then I remember my head snapping sideways.” She opened her eyes and looked at me. “But that’s not possible, right? If I hit him, I must have hit my head on the steering wheel.”

“The air bag deployed. While it’s still possible you hit your head on a piece of the steering wheel, or something near the dash, I think it’s more plausible your head snapped sideways and you hit your head on the door.”

“You think he hit me?” she asked, wonder in her voice.

“I think it’s entirely possible.”

And it made more sense, overall. The damage to her car was consistent with a side impact. The injury on her head, the bruises on the left side of her body. The fact that the police failed to take pictures of the front of the Bentley the police commissioner’s kid was driving. And why the kid was in handcuffs when the second officer arrived.

“Do you remember the cop at the hospital?”

Eden rolled onto her back, her eyes moving over the ceiling like the answer might be tucked into the old popcorn design. Then she focused on me, her hand brushing over my jaw.

“I remember Daddy saying that there had been a cop, that he had the results of the blood alcohol test. But that’s all.”

“That’s another thing. Did you ever see those test results? They seem to have disappeared from all the files.”

She shook her head. “Nope.”

I kissed the tip of her nose. “If you answer like that in court, they’ll laugh you out of there.”

“Then it’s a good thing we’re not in court.”

She rolled into me, and I suddenly forgot what it was we were talking about.

I
could hear
Crawford’s voice as I slowly surfaced back into the world of the awake. His voice—so deep and velvety—was like a lullaby that made me want to roll over, bury myself in his scent against the pillows. But it also made me curious. I wanted to know what was going on and who he was talking to.

I climbed out of bed and padded over to the master bathroom in the suite. Crawford had a light bathrobe hanging on the back of the door. When I finished my business, I slipped it on, loving the idea of something of his against my skin.

It was crazy. I’d known Crawford since…well, almost since I could remember. And I had such a crush on him when I was a teen. I thought it was just one of those things, something all teenage girls with a really hot stepbrother might go through. And then there was the whole fiasco with the kiss and the summer of the abortion. But when I saw him again…

My Dad would’ve flipped out if he knew where I was. He loved me and would probably give me just about anything I asked for. But Crawford and I… he wouldn’t understand. In his mind, we’re brother and sister just as if we’d been born from the same mother. In reality, there was no blood relationship, and I didn’t see anything wrong with it, but my Daddy was still a little old-fashioned.

And that thought was more than a little disturbing.

I dragged my fingers through my hair before slipping out into the living room. I hadn’t realized Crawford—who was fully dressed in a clean suit—wasn’t alone. But there was a beautiful girl sitting on the edge of the couch, her legs crossed in that sideways sort of way that some news reporters have where their legs aren’t really crossed, but laying on top of each other in an awkward sort of way. I always thought of it as a beauty queen style. She was wearing a short skirt and pale blouse, both of which were the faintest pink that made her caramel colored skin seem that much darker, that much more flawless.

Was it stupid of me to be standing there, wearing Crawford’s robe with jealousy storming through me?

I turned and went back into the bedroom, trying to move as quietly as possible so that the girl wouldn’t see me. But Crawford must have because he was suddenly behind me, grabbing my upper arm and turning me into him.

“Hey. I thought you were still asleep.”

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to disturb whatever’s going on out there.”

“We were just talking about your case. Kendra was just telling me that she—“

“Kendra? Is that her name?”

Crawford’s eyes darkened, and then he suddenly began to laugh. A rush of hot anger burst through me, and I yanked my arm away, turning into the room in search of a dress I last remember being in a heap beside the bed.

“You’re jealous,” Crawford said hotly against my ear, the hand that slid around my waist holding my dress.

“I’m not.”

“Sure you are. You think Kendra and I are out there doing…what, exactly? You must think I’m some sort of bastard if you think I’d really have sex with another woman while you’re lying in my bed.”

“I didn’t think you were having sex.”

“Then what?”

I shrugged. “She’s just beautiful.”

It was hard for me to say. As stupid as it sounded, I wanted to be the most beautiful woman in Crawford’s life. But seeing that woman—Kendra?—sitting in her beauty queen pose on the couch reminded me that he’s been living in a world where beautiful woman are a dime a dozen. She was in a class far beyond anything I could ever measure up to.

Crawford nuzzled against my neck. “She’s my personal assistant. If she’s beautiful I never really noticed it.”

“Liar.”

He chuckled again, but his hand was moving over my belly, sliding underneath the loosely tied belt of the bathrobe I was wearing. I closed my eyes and sighed, reaching back to pull his head closer to mine. All my jealous thoughts disappeared as he nuzzled my neck again, as his scent invaded my senses, as his hand found its way to a stiffened nipple.

“I love the feel of your body,” he whispered softly against my ear. “I love the way you sigh when I touch you. I love the smell of your hair, the taste of your lips, the ache being near you creates in my chest.”

I started to turn into him, my heart already pounding in anticipation of a kiss. But there was a pounding on the bedroom door just at that moment.

“Crawford?”

Even her voice was beautiful.

He groaned.

“We have a meeting with the prosecutor in a little over an hour,” he said as he gently pushed me away. “Go get dressed so that I might actually be able to put two thoughts together. Then I’ll take you home.”

“Getting rid of me?”

He just groaned again, catching me as I tried to walk past him to steal a kiss. And then he was gone, disappearing through the bedroom door to where she was. I climbed into the shower, unable to wipe away the smile that had fused itself to my face.

He wanted me. He’d made that pretty clear. And that made me feel like I was floating on a cloud. No one else had ever had the power to make me so angry, to make me so obsessed with a hurt, or make me feel so good with just a look. Crawford had always had that power over me. It was kind of nice to know that now that it went both ways.

“
S
o
…you brought your personal assistant with you,” I queried.

Crawford glanced at me, caution in his eyes. “She has family out here.”

“That’s convenient.”

“And she knows an accident reconstructionist I think might be able to help us prove you weren’t in the wrong.”

“How can he do that?”

He glanced at me again even as he expertly guided the car around a curve. “I think that kid hit you, not the other way around. And if that’s true, he can use the pictures of the accident scene and the damage on the cars to prove it.”

“And if he was at fault, he has to drop the civil suit, right? But how does that impact the DWI charge? I’ll still go to jail.”

“I’m working on that.”

I wanted to ask more, but Crawford had a tone that I knew better than to argue with. I sat back against the leather seat and sighed. I trusted Crawford. Everyone knew he was a brilliant lawyer. I had followed his career for nine years through news stories on the internet. I knew he’d won more cases than he lost. I knew he got a major technology executive off on a rape charge even though everyone was still convinced the guy did it. I knew he got another executive, some guy from Wall Street, off of a manslaughter charge. And I knew he’d taken the Texas bar to get an oil tycoon down in Houston off on an insider trading charge. There was no doubt in my mind that Crawford was a brilliant attorney.

But even the best attorneys lost a case every once in a while. I was deeply afraid that my case would be one of those.

As that thought floated through my mind, Crawford reached over and squeezed my thigh. I glanced at him and he was watching me. It was almost as though he knew exactly what I was thinking. I ran my palm over the back of his hand, pressing my fingers between his.

“Will you go to dinner with me tonight?”

I glanced at him, that goofy smile coming back. “Will I get to eat this time?”

He cocked his head slightly. “Not if you wear a dress like that one again.”

I blushed, not used to someone so openly admiring anything about me. But I liked it.

We pulled into my apartment complex—complex meaning a single building with three small apartments—a minute later. I wasn’t sure he had time to linger, but he got out and helped me out of the car, holding my hand as he led the way to my door. And then he tugged me into his arms, his lips warm on mine as he slowly, gently, kissed me goodbye.

“It’s going to be okay. I’m going to make this right for you.”

I pressed my face to his chest, sighing again. It would be just my luck to finally find a little happiness only to have it put on pause by a five-year jail sentence.

Crawford ran his hand over my back as I stepped out of the car, then pulled away, not looking back as he left.

An hour later, I was curled up on the couch in jeans with a good book when my father stuck his head in through the door. One of these days I’ll remember to lock-up my apartment.

“I heard Crawford’s back. I was wondering what’s going on with your case.”

I started to ask how he knew Crawford was in town, but realized I already knew. It’s such a small town. I’m sure the moment Crawford’s car pulled up to the building, half my neighbors—and anyone who saw him from the tiny grocery store across the street—was already on the phone with Dad.

“He’s meeting with the prosecutor as we speak,” I said, setting my book down and patting the couch beside me. “He says they want to set a trial date as soon as possible and he thinks it’s a good idea. He said he thinks we have a strong case.”

“That’s good, right?”

I shrugged. “I’m trusting Crawford.”

Dad slid his arm around me. “Crawford is a good man, Eden. He won’t let you go to jail if there’s anything he can do about it.”

“You’ve always be his strongest supporter.”

“He’s my son. I support him just as I do you.”

I turned my face away, hiding the weight that suddenly pulled my expression into something darker than he might have expected. What was Dad going to say when he found out that Crawford and I saw each other as more than siblings? What would he do when he learned that we were having sex?

I think that frightened me more than the thought of going to jail.