Dynomite: A Stepbrother Cowboy Romance (5 page)

The words just spewed from my mouth. I hate when I spew without thinking. It never comes out witty. “Fuck you, asswads!” Oh, yeah. That was going to show ’em.

But to my complete and utter shock, Sequoia busted free of me. He’d probably been used to taking a raft of shit from people. I know I was. Even back in Texas where I at least fit in with my clothes and my accent, I’d been harassed. Just for being “different.” What passed as “different” seemed to change from day to day. It was just something I could never bust free of. Sequoia’s difference was more obvious. He was a fucking blanket-ass. He could go, join the Army, come home a decorated hero, and still be a fucking blanket-ass. He must be permanently pissed off.

Sequoia whipped loose from my grip and flung himself at the fence where Willard was perched. “You fucking hillbilly!” he roared.

He was a pretty good athlete, I’ll have to hand him that, when he wasn’t lubricated. I’d seen him ride my rankest bronc for thirty seconds to the point of whiplash. In just one spring, Sequoia had leaped high enough to claw Willard completely off his fence. Sequoia clung to the fence’s rungs, one hand still on Willard’s boot as he toppled backward into the shit-encrusted alleyway behind him.

The scene wound up with Sequoia gripping Willard’s ankle with both hands as the redneck’s stupid head bonked against the shitty dirt. Sequoia was shrieking, “Motherfuck! Motherfuck! Motherfuck!” It was his rage as much as his fucking strength that kept him clinging to Willard’s foot. He was worked up into such a right fine conniption fit that he was almost blind. I wondered if he’d remember this later. I did nothing to stop him. Fact, I stood back and sunk my fingers into my jeans pockets. Blew my hair out of my eyes and probably grinned. My chute-fighting animal even seemed in agreement with me, bucking so high it seemed he aimed to catapult clean out of the chute.

I caught April’s eye again. She was looking down at us from her grandstand. It was hard to gauge her emotion. She looked frantic, I guess. Or angry. She looked from her dumbass boyfriend, dangling upside-down, to me, then back to the dumbass. Then back to me, as if I was somehow responsible.

April ran down the stairs to steam at me. “We need to talk.”

Shrugging, I clambered over the wall that separated the arena from the staging area. Sequoia was still shrieking like a man possessed, and the tough clowns were trying to pry him loose from the human ankle.

Everyone’s attention was fixed on them, so April and I snuck away to an aisle between sections of bleachers.

“Listen,” she hissed, fire in her eyes. “This has
got
to stop, this bizarre competition between you and Lawson. There is only one more week left of school so you don’t have to pretend to tolerate each other for much longer.”

I was aghast. “
What
fucking competition? First time I ever noticed that asshat was when he tried to run me off the road at your ranch. Hell, ‘tried’? He
did
run me off the fucking road, and it was just a miracle there weren’t no ditch there or I would’ve been parking it horizontally!”

She squeezed her eyes shut patiently. “I agree he shouldn’t have done that, and I have no idea why. For some reason he seems to feel a weird competition with you.” She looked at me with disgust. “Why, I have no frigging idea. You’re nowhere
near
the same level as him, socially, mentally, whatever.”

What the fuck was
that
supposed to mean? I pointed at the ground. “Yeah? Well
we
sure as hell were on the same
social
level the other night at the jailhouse. Maybe that’s what your little pig-faced boyfriend is pissed about. I was there sharing the glory of the jail cell with
you
and not him.”

I’d hit a nerve. She obviously hadn’t told him about that event yet. Maybe none of her friends had, either. “Never mind about that fucking horrible night, you asshole! If you run around telling anyone, I’ll…I’ll tell my father that you were selling heroin in Bumfuck, Texas and you’ll
never
be allowed to live or work on our land!”

I froze like a block of ice. How the fuck did
she
know that? I mean, I’d never
sold
H in Texas, of course the fuck not. Why would I? I didn’t need the money. But I’d
used
heroin in Texas. That’s why I’d been arrested, trying to buy a bag from a low-level spitter on a street corner.

Alright. It was
on
.

I stepped closer and spoke in a threatening tone. “Why you got it out for me, bitch? You run around like a snobby broke horse, like the world’s your oyster, everything handed to you on a silver platter. You should know better. You should know how this works. You tell your daddy about the heroin, I tell the entire school about your prostitution arrest. See? Lose-lose. It’s a lose-lose situation, bitch.”

And all she could think of to say was, “Stop calling me a bitch. I’m not a damned bitch. But I’ll be fucked if I’m going to live under the same roof as a guy who keeps getting into fights with my boyfriend.”

“Hey Drummond!” a clown was shouting through the bleachers. “You’re on deck!”

Shit
. It was time for me to face my nemesis, that rank arm-jerker waiting for me in the chute.

I stepped closer to April. I needed to impress upon her the importance of
not
telling her daddy anything. I reached under her saucy little cowgirl hat and grabbed a handful of her lush, silken hair. It shocked me, really, how silken her hair was. Like a handful of, well, silk. I think her closeness shocked me. All ideas about what I wanted to do went out the window. Again, I wound up sounding stupid.
She must think I’m a real prize.

“Listen,
bitch
. You tell your daddy about that Texas incident, I’ll make you regret your birth.”

April leaned back with both hands gripping the edge of a bench. Again, her wide eyes were either filled with fear or loathing or both, and it occurred to me she might spit in my face again.

But then a weird thing happened.

Without me noticing, I’d shoved her forward and my crotch was pinning her crotch to the bleachers, too. And I was hard. At least, my cock was lengthening inside my jeans, expanding, filling with twisted, lusty blood.

While pressed against my stepsister’s cunt.

It was a fucking delicious thrill that raced through my balls, filling them with jizz in preparation for shooting all over her fucking lap. And she didn’t do a damned thing about it, just looked at me with those deer-in-the-headlights eyes, so I jabbed her with my tool. Just to let her know that I knew. And I was hard for a reason.

It wasn’t lust, it was power. Control. Domination.

I had a handful of her hair, so she couldn’t move her head. Now I was pinning her with my hips. And after years of wrangling calves to brand, I was nothing but a sheer, sinewy machine. She could not wriggle one tendon or twitch one muscle. Not while under my power.

“Oh yeah?” she said weakly. “What you gonna do? My daddy already knows about my arrest. He’s the one who got me off. Did
you
get it wiped from your record? I didn’t think so.”

No, I hadn’t. Luckily for me the California rodeo circuit turned a blind eye to shit like that. If they rejected every entrant who had an arrest record, there would be about three guys riding in events.

I rolled my cock slowly, salaciously. Breathing hard against her face, as though it’d taken me a huge effort to pin her. I rolled from one hip to the other, giving her the thrilling benefit of the entire length of my hard-on, from stem to stern. I rocked the head against her pubic bone, hard underneath her little jean skirt. I slid the entire shaft up the cleft between her pussy lips. I knew I was massaging her clit this way.

And I was nearly coming myself.

Her boobs were mashed against my chest. She wore a push-up bra anyway, and made no bones about displaying her titties between her knotted, checkered shirt. I spoke low and menacing. “Lawson Willard doesn’t know about your arrest, does he?”

A tough look came into her eyes. While she’d seemed almost complacent with my forced seduction, a shadow flitted over her eyes now.

She kneed me in the balls.

“I don’t want to see you
anywhere
around Hardscrabble, do you hear?” She hissed as I hopped from one foot to the other, zig-zagging between the bleachers.

Then she must’ve sprinted off like a gazelle, because next thing I knew two clowns were helping me to stand upright. Two idiots who normally wore enormous barrel pants and painted on gap-toothed grins were helping
me
.

Yeah. Things can change in the twinkling of an eye.

APRIL

T
he
nerve
of
that twisted fucker.

There I was, trying to tell him to back off from my boyfriend, to stop getting into it with him, to stop goading him. It was pretty easy to goad Lawson Willard, though, truth be told. He’d been known to throw me around from time to time, usually while drinking heavily.

Suddenly Dyno was practically assaulting me through my fucking clothes!

What kind of twisted pervert
was
he? For one, we were stepsiblings! My father had married his wasted mother, for better or worse, although I wondered if “Dyno” knew about the prenup agreement she’d signed. Yeah, I’d seen it in the ranch office where I worked. Seems my dad didn’t trust Miss Skyy Vodka and her ability to move easily from rancher to rancher, apparently sucking really good dick the whole way.

There’d been a lot more drinking since Mrs. Grey Goose had moved her trashy redneck ass in. My dad had never been a big drinker, but suddenly he was sending his man out to Costco for those big bottles of vodka. And he was drinking the drinks himself. Vodka mixed with OJ, cranberry, Sierra Mist, you name it. It was almost embarrassing to think Lawson saw the empties around the back of the house when he picked me up, overflowing the recycling bin.

And maybe I contributed a little bit to the trash, too. When stressed or PMSing, I took a few fingers’ worth of vodka from their bottles. It was just to tide me over until I could properly mourn my mother without some lush moving into my house. I was going to knock it off the second I got accepted into one of the schools I’d been waitlisted at.

Dyno or whatever he called himself, he could
imagine
he was better than me, and he had me by the short hairs when it came to telling Lawson about my arrest. Lawson might be a good ol’ boy, but he liked his women pure as the Arctic snow. A typical male hypocrite.

I was actually surprised when Dyno admitted to the heroin thing. It was just a vague rumor I’d heard. I didn’t know any details about it. A fluttery thrill had gripped me when he pinned me to the wooden seat with the power of his pelvis. I don’t know if that was his intention when he grabbed me by the hair. But he slid an enormously long and fat penis directly against my mound, and suddenly I knew what Olivia meant when she pretended to know why he was called “Dynomite.”

That fucking Olivia.
She loved taunting me with stories of Dyno’s prowess. He was definitely hitting on her. I’d even heard him tell her suggestively, “Sit on my lap and move your hips.” Of course, she hadn’t. We were in Spanish class, for Christ sake. But he’d said it in Spanish—
Sientate en mis piernas y mueve tus caderas
, I will never forget that sentence as long as I live—and while he said it
to
Olivia, I swear his eyes were flickering over mine.

Anyway, that’s what I meant when I said Olivia was a slut. Flirting with the newest bad boy in school while Kemp was a few rows away! And she was the one who started the whole rivalry between Dyno and Lawson by ogling Dyno in the backseat that day when Lawson picked me up for school.

Yeah, I’d noticed. It wasn’t until Olivia made those predatory remarks that Lawson got all agitated and competitive. Oh, some new guy was smoking hot? Lawson would see about
that
. And I was jealous because here was a rivalry that
had nothing to do with me
. Lawson wasn’t jealous because Dyno was hitting on me. He was jealous because
Olivia thought Dyno was hot
.

Why did this asshole rile me up so heavily? Here he was, pressing his long and thick tool against the very core of me, while my boyfriend lay possibly with a broken neck literally in a pile of shit!

So I kneed him, of course I did.

It was a hugely satisfying direct hit to the ol’ ball sac.

He even went “
oomph
” and doubled over as all the air was sucked from his lungs. I would’ve laughed if I’d had time to. He’d called me a bitch, he’d threatened my safety and reputation, and probably worst of all, he thought women were interchangeable snatches! As if one second he could eye-fuck Olivia even though she had a damned boyfriend, then the next second he could be pressing his throbbing hard-on against me!

I’d show him a thing or two.

“I don’t want to see you
anywhere
around Hardscrabble!” I shrieked, before sprinting off to my friends.

The last thing I saw was the hilarious sight of Mr. Asshole “Dynomite” Drummond clutching his balls, his giant erection fading fast, punctured like a basketball. He had a sour look on his face, like he was sucking on a lemon. I was pleased.