Dirty Wicked Lust: A Stepbrother Romance (12 page)

His gaze was attentive, and adoring, his lips slightly parted except when he chose to bite down on his lip to fight back his urge to come deep inside me. If only I had that kind of will power!

Instead I came, suddenly, clenching and gasping, trembling and crying out, barking and braying as he did the same, one last giant thrust before the explosion filled me deep inside, warm, wet, and powerful as we quivered and quaked, connected in body and spirit.

I melted on top of him, coming once more as his thickness filled me with heat, quivering silently before our hands parted and I sank on top of him, our hearts pounding against one another’s as my breasts softly clung to his broad, wide chest.

His arms, so big and strong, wrapped around my back, tugging me close in a moment of intimacy far more passionate than our love making, or even the nearly two weeks leading up to it. More than anything he could have said or done to me, that simple act of hugging me tightly spoke volumes about how Ryan really felt about me, and as I returned it eagerly, I hoped I was saying the same back to him.

I sighed with contentment, a million fantasies fulfilled as I clung to that moment, not knowing–or caring–what might happen next.
Would we ever make love again? Would it ever be this good again? Would our parents arrive early–surprise–and spoil everything? Or was it already spoiled? Would Ryan recoil as he had that first night I enticed him, doubling back over himself, and retreating to his room to smoke bags and bags of pot while I fumed quietly in my room across the hall?

I had no idea. Seriously. I only knew that Ryan felt the same way about me as I did about him. Alive with the knowledge that what we’d just done was as dangerous as it was delicious.

I wanted more!

Chapter Fourteen

“Morning, Sunshine.”

I blinked my eyes open, soft morning light hidden behind clusters of palm trees and an overcast sky that allowed me to open my eyes without automatically squeezing them shut again. Ryan stood, clad in black baggies that clung low to his narrow hips and hung down to his knees.

He offered a cup of coffee, and sitting up to reach for it, I found my nakedness covered in a long, soft beach towel. I clasped it to my breasts with one hand, as if embarrassed by my nakedness, holding the coffee with the other. It was strong and hot, with just enough cream and sugar–to say nothing of caffeine–to rouse my spirits after our early morning fuck fest, and apparently, a night’s worth of sleeping it off on the same deck chair.

“Thanks,” I said, setting the coffee down as I reached for my bikini from the deck next to my chair.

“No problem,” he said, watching as the towel dropped away and I slid my bikini on. He seemed almost disappointed as I tied the straps in the back, then sighed with resignation and drifted toward the shallow end of the pool. “Fancy a swim?”

I chuckled, nodding and joining him, cup of coffee in hand as I sank to my knees into the cool, delicious water before sitting on the middle step to enjoy the view.

“I could think of worse ways to start the morning,” I murmured contentedly, watching Ryan’s powerful muscles as he strode deeper into the pool, sun caressing his flawless wet physique. “
Or
spend the night.”

He turned, leaning his hip against the pool deck and eyeing me carefully. “About that,” he said, tentatively, as I braced myself for the worst. “I just want to say that—”

“Ryan, please,” I blurted, interrupting him as I set my cup down on the deck behind me with a clatter and clack on the wet pool tile. “Please don’t say you regret what we did last night, because… because… my heart just couldn’t take it.”

He shook his head, eyes wide and hurt. “Never, Heather,” he professed, scolding me with his tone as well as his wounded gaze. “I don’t regret a second of what we… did. But you have to admit, it’s… unconventional. This relationship of ours, I mean.”

I nodded. “It’s more than just unconventional, Ryan,” I insisted. “It’s… special.”

He nodded, still glistening, as he stood waist-deep in the shallow end, damp baggies clinging to his young, virile crotch. “I agree, Heather. You’re a very special person—”

“I’m not fishing for compliments, Ryan,” I insisted, swishing my feet in the pool distractedly. “I’m serious. Last night wasn’t just about… sex. You’re special, you’re very… special… to me.”

“I want to believe that,” he murmured, looking away for a moment.

“How many more ways can I show you, bro?” I chuckled humorlessly, weary at the thought of jumping through even more hoops to convince Ryan that I was for real – that
this
was for real.

“That’s just it,” he chuckled, equally joylessly. “If we were just two random people, I wouldn’t say a word. It’s just that…”

“We’re not actually related,” I reminded him as his voice trailed off, no doubt searching for a way to let me down diplomatically.

“Not by blood,” he murmured. “I know that. It’s just…”

“Weird?” I said. “Plenty of couples are weird. It’s no big deal.”

He winced, and I wondered if it was at the word
couples
. I decided to quit while I was ahead, hearing him out before digging my own grave instead.

“It’s kind of a big deal,” he insisted, pausing before continuing. “So… I want you to know that, whatever I say right now, it goes without saying that I care about you. A lot.”

My throat clenched with the admission. “Me too, Ryan,” I said, finding his eyes wide but distant a few feet away. “Last night was… more than just some kind of wicked lust for me.”

He nodded. “Me too, Heather. But I’m worried about what might happen next.”

“Next?” I teased, spreading my thighs gently, if provocatively, beneath the surface of the water. “You mean after I finish my coffee and you wriggle out of those luscious black baggies?”

He snorted, shaking his head. “You’re a piece of work, Heather.”

“You’re a piece of art, Ryan,” I mused, feeling so hot and bothered it was a miracle the pool water that covered me from the waist down wasn’t already boiling. “Seriously, if you could see what I’m looking at, you’d know why I can’t stop thinking of what we did and when we can do it again.”

“I think the same thing every time I look at you,” he confessed, making no move to actually do anything about it. “Which is more often than you think. But it’s not us I’m worried about. Our parents get home in a few days. Your mom. My dad. What… I mean… how do we keep this up?”

My heart swelled with relief that he wasn’t entirely breaking it off. More like, finding a way to keep it on the down low. “From what I experienced last night, Ryan,” I purred, just as eager to keep what we were doing from prying eyes. “You’ll never have a problem keeping it up—”

“I’m serious,” he growled, shoving a wave of water at me only half-playfully as I felt it embrace my skin. “We have to talk about this, now, before they get back from their cruise, or we’ll never find a solution.”

“Why do we have to ‘solve’ anything?” I asked, perhaps naively. “I mean why can’t we just keep doing what we’re doing?”

“Oh, sure,” he snorted. “We should keep fucking on deck chairs at four AM? Or flirting around the breakfast table? Or shopping for squeak free mattresses for our rooms? Or skulking around in the hallway every morning, trying to race back to our rooms before our parents get up?”

I shrugged. “Why not?”

“Because it’s rude, that’s why.”

“But if we’re doing it anyway,” I reasoned, letting it lie there just like that.

“I just,” he said, struggling to find the words. “Either we do it right or we shouldn’t be doing it at all. I think we both know we shouldn’t be doing it at all.”

“Quit complaining!” I snorted, splashing water his way. “Are we doing this or not?”

He sighed, deflated, sagging against the pool deck at his side. “I can’t see a scenario where I’m not fucking you, Heather.”

I nodded, brightening, but still couldn’t understand why he was so persistent. “Why do you care what our parents think anyway, Ryan? You barely talk to your father, and you’ve only known my mom for a few days.”

He shrugged. “In the Marines we were taught to respect our elders, even if we don’t necessarily agree with them. Do you want to shove it in your mom’s face that I’m fucking her daughter?”

“No,” I said, blushing slightly at the thought of what my mom might think if she’d caught Ryan and I last night, or even caught wind of our illicit relationship. “But what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, will it?”

“But is it right if we have to sneak around to do it?” Ryan asked, waving his hands dramatically. “I mean, if this was normal, would we even be having this conversation?”

“I dunno, dude,” I murmured. “My mom’s weird about who I date to begin with. I mean, you’re twenty-five. Even if you weren’t my stepbrother, she might not want me to date you because of our age difference. You have tattoos. She might not want me to date you because of that. Look at me. I smoke, I drink, I curse, I sleep around. Would your father want
you
do date
me
?”

Ryan shrugged. “Probably not,” he confessed.

“So,” I countered, “is us being related because our parents fell in love any different than you and I having all those other differences?”

He bit his lip and shook his head. “Maybe I’m over thinking all this.”

“Ya think?” I blurted, the clouds overhead parting and the sun coming out, warming my belly as I lay stretched out on top of the pool stairs and making Ryan’s hairless torso way too sexy for my own good.

“Maybe,” he began, swirling one large, tender hand in the water beside his waist absently. “Maybe we should tell them, huh?”

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. “Bad. Fucking. Idea. Bro,” I intoned, dead serious as I realized that if this was going to work at all, I was going to have to take the lead and find the right words to make Ryan realize that, yes, he was over thinking all of this—by a long shot. “Just, trust me on this. We’ll figure out a way to work this out so that we get what we want without hurting our parents’ feelings, okay?”

He nodded, seeming unconvinced. “Jeez! Don’t worry about it, okay? We’re two smart, motivated people who obviously care for our parents. Whatever happens, whenever it happens, we’ll find a way so that nobody gets hurt. That way, we’re all happy.”

Ryan inched closer, his cock thick in the water as he rose from it with every step. “Heather, you don’t understand. If I can’t keep my hands off you while our parents are away—I won’t be able to when they’re back, either.”

“You think it’s gonna be easy for me, hot shot?” I asked, my eyes roving intently over his muscular, masculine physique and wanting nothing more than to cover his mouth so he’d quit talking and start doing what he did best. “But we’ve got to find a way to make ourselves happy without freaking our parents out.”

He sighed, pausing just long enough in his mental gymnastics to scope me out. I figured it was now or never if I was ever going to make the most of my overactive vagina —or Ryan’s fat cock.

“Besides,” I sighed, reaching up to deftly tug at the back of my bikini top so that it slid from my shoulders and across my breasts, to fall into the pool with a dramatic plop. “We’ve got three whole days of nonstop fucking to figure it out.”

He looked at me then,
really
looked at me, and smirked knowingly as he tugged, gently, at the string that held his clingy black baggies up. It gave just as easily as my bikini strap, and just as quickly, his bathing suit slithered down his narrow hips, releasing his fat, curved cock as we both looked down, admiring it.

“Well then,” he said, stroking his cock with a sexiness that nearly made me come just watching him. “What the fuck are we waiting for,
Sis
?”

Chapter Fifteen

“I have to say,” Mom said a few days later, watching Ryan hand me a glass of orange juice across the kitchen table, the very picture of a perfect gentleman. “You two must have really bonded while we were away.”

I nearly spit out my juice. If Mom only knew the only real bond we’d formed was at the joint of our crotches, night, day and every moment in between, she might not be so quick to compliment her new stepson.

“I knew they would,” Jerry said knowingly, looking dignified, if claustrophobic, in his favorite blue three-piece suit— the one at least a size too small for him. “I think us going away for those two weeks was the best thing we could have done to secure this union as a real, honest to goodness family.”

I risked a glance at Ryan, peering back at me cautiously beneath a faded red ball cap that hid his eyes – even when he rolled them. He was playing it cool, but I could see the beginnings of that charming crooked smile play across his thick lips.

“Ryan?” his father asked, freezing the beginning of the smile in place. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

Ryan nodded. “I suppose it’s only natural for step siblings to take a little time to get used to each other, Dad.”

“I’ve never had a brother before,” I chimed in, watching Jerry peer at me momentarily. I got the sense from Ryan’s millionaire father that he only respected power, and from the way he treated the rest of us, he was the only one at the breakfast table who had–or even deserved–any of it. “I guess I didn’t know what to expect.”

“Now you do?” Jerry asked, never one to settle for the easy answer.

I shrugged, wondering how cocky and superior he’d be acting if he knew what his son had done to me on top of the very breakfast table we were sitting at only hours before he arrived home.

“I’m getting a better idea of what it’s like, yes,” I said, peering back at him defiantly. Jerry nodded begrudgingly before returning to butter his toast, a task I’m sure he’d prefer my mother do for him –which I’m surprised she didn’t.

“Well,” Jerry huffed before shoving half a slice of buttered toast in his mouth. “Don’t get too familiar. A little sibling rivalry can be good from time to time. Keeps things interesting they say.”

I nodded, nudging Ryan’s toe under the table.

“Yup,” I murmured around a mouthful of frosted mini wheat-ums. “Things sure have been interesting around here while you two were away…”

Jerry ignored me, Mom fake smiled, and Ryan nearly broke my shin bone tapping my leg under the table. “What?” I mouthed when neither one of our parents were looking. He merely scowled, peering down at his uneaten slice of grapefruit.