Forbidden: Ultimate Stepbrother Collection (4 page)

BOOK: Forbidden: Ultimate Stepbrother Collection
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Chapter 7

Luke

Chloe’s long nails dug into my shoulder as she braced herself against me. “Don’t ruin the heel,” she warned. “These shoes cost a thousand dollars.” Chloe had an annoying habit of putting a price tag on everything. She had not grown up with money. She’d been working as a receptionist in a doctor’s office when Mike met her. He was an aged, extremely wealthy widower, and Chloe had been one bad check away from a jail sentence. The match was magical for both of them. Although, the bleak reality of being married to a man in his late seventies had hit the wild thirty-year-old hard over the head. She’d quickly found other
hobbies
to keep her happily married, only none of those included Mike.

“She’s pretty, that
stepsister
of yours.” Chloe said the word stepsister with extra emphasis.

“Uh huh.” The shoe was free. I straightened and she kissed me.

My attention shot to the street. Her husband’s blue Mercedes was gone. “Where’s Mike?” The guy was kind of a stodgy old prick, but I didn’t need Chloe to be kissing me right in front of him.

She waved her long pink nails. “I told him to go home. He was too tired to go to the wake.” She wrapped her arms around my waist and smacked her body against mine. My gaze quickly went to the limo. McKenna had already climbed inside, and the car was pulling away from the curb. I’d seen McKenna standing alone by her mother’s grave looking so sad and vulnerable and alone. I couldn’t stop myself from walking over. My plan was to just lend a supporting arm around her shoulder, a relatively safe, non-committal gesture but then she’d turned into my arms. I could have held her there for the rest of the damn day. It felt right comforting her, holding her, and she seemed to have felt the same way. Until she looked up and realized it was me.

“I guess that means you’ll have to drive me to the ranch,” Chloe’s voice interrupted my thoughts.

“Yep, the jeep is down there. Can you make it without breaking a heel or your neck?”

Chloe blinked her long, fake lashes. “I think I might need you to carry me.”

“Seriously?” Any other time, I’d take a flirty invitation from Chloe and run with it. She was insatiable in the bedroom and worth every second of sneaking around and hiding from her gun wielding husband. But somehow, today, I didn’t have the enthusiasm for her.

Of course, from the look on her face, she had her mind set on me carrying her. I swept her into my arms. She rested her head against my shoulder as I carried her down the steep slope of grass. We climbed into the jeep. Before I could even start the motor, she was unzipping my pants.

“Shit, Chloe, we’re in a cemetery.”

“So? Don’t tell me you’ve never done it in a cemetery.” She leaned over to nibble my ear as her hand slid down the front of my pants. Her fingers wrapped around my cock, and I sucked in a breath.

“Yes,” I said with a hitch in my throat, caused by her thumb running over the tip of my cock, “but I was drunk at the time, and it was night. And I hadn’t just come from a damn funeral.” I took hold of her wrist. As I pulled her hand from inside my pants, I wondered if I was fucking crazy.

She leaned back hard against the seat with a pout. “Shit, I might as well have stayed with my husband.” She turned to me. “Is this about that little west coast tart that’s staying at the ranch? She’s very pretty. Don’t think I hadn’t noticed that you barely took your eyes off of her during the funeral.”

I didn’t respond. Shit, had it been that obvious?

“Well, Luke, answer me. Is she the reason you just pulled my hand out of your pants?” she asked angrily.

I turned up the radio to drown out this conversation. Chloe didn’t say another word the rest of the ride.

Chapter 8

McKenna

The front of the house resembled a luxury car sales lot. Gleaming paint jobs and ornate hood ornaments sparkled in the late afternoon sun. Inside, a mouthwatering feast had been laid out on the twenty-foot, polished mahogany dining table. As delicious as everything looked, my unexpected little breakdown and the long, slow ride in the back of the limo had left me with little appetite. John made a point of showing me the beautiful red strawberries that he knew were my favorite. I picked up a small plate and loaded it with berries and a dollop of the whipped cream to go with them. I grabbed a glass of wine and walked into the main room.

Once again, I found myself sitting amongst a crowd of well-dressed strangers. Many made a point of politely nodding or giving me a thoughtful look of sorrow, but that was the extent of my interaction with Mom’s friends.

Drake caught me looking a little lost and completely out of my element. Gentleman that he was, he strolled over to save me from my awkward state of looking completely out of place. Luke had driven to the funeral in his jeep, and I hadn’t seen him since he’d gone off to wrench the expensive shoe from the cemetery lawn. I was relieved. Even though we’d shared a few, rare congenial moments at the gravesite, I always felt even more out of place and awkward whenever he was around with his disconcerting green gaze, wry sense of humor and short temper.

“You couldn’t look more unhappy having to stand here in the center of my dad’s uppity friends,” Drake said.

“I really do feel out of place.” I took a sip of the wine. “Hmm, but this is delicious. Perhaps after a few more of these, I’ll find it easier to strike up a conversation. Of course, probably none of it will make sense because I’ll be buzzed. But what the hell.” I lifted the fluted glass. “Bottoms up.”

His eyes widened as I drained my glass. I winced as I swallowed the last gulp. “Guess I should have taken a breath between sips,” I said in a hoarse voice. I was a lightweight. It wouldn’t be long before I felt the effects of it. Which was exactly what I wanted. I grabbed another glass from a passing server’s tray.

I went to take a sip, but Drake caught my wrist. “You might want to take it a little slower.”

“Right.” I lifted the glass again and took another long drink.

Drake glanced around the crowded room. “I haven’t seen Luke. I wonder if he even made it back here.”

“I haven’t seen him since he walked off to help a brunette woman whose spiky heel got stuck in the graveyard lawn.” I had no idea why, but my words came out angrily.

“Brunette?” Drake asked. “Was she wearing a strand of rocks that looked as if they were weighing her down?”

“That’s the one.”

“That explains it,” Drake said, cryptically.

I stared up at him. “I guess you’re not going to explain why that
explains
it.” Shit, two glasses and my words were already sounding a little long and stretched out. Drake apparently noticed it too.

He smiled down at me. “Someone is really enjoying that wine.”

“It’s better than the drugstore box wine I usually drink.”

“I’ll bet it is,” he laughed.

I’d assured myself that I was relieved that Luke was noticeably absent, but at the same time, I couldn’t stop thinking about the annoying man, the green eyed man who had looked perfectly stunning in his black suit. A tiny bit of alcohol on an empty stomach and my mind went right to lascivious daydreams, only, I wasn’t cast in them. It was the woman with the heels. The beautiful brunette looked like the kind of trophy wife who would avoid contact with her rather wrinkled husband and go straight for a boy toy. And there just couldn’t be any choicer looking boy toy than Luke Maverick. From the way she’d called to him for help, and with the speed that he’d rushed off to help, it was highly likely they were having an affair. For a second I imagined what they might be up to. Luke seemed like the type who would be fierce and demanding in bed. For some stupid reason, my line of tawdry musings made me quite irritated. Not that I cared who my charmless stepbrother was sleeping with. It was none of my damn business after all. Even if she was a rather skeletal looking woman with her sharp, protruding shoulders and elbows.

A tall, nice looking guy, who I’d noticed earlier because of his piercing blue eyes and humongous pair of arms, joined our circle of two. He spoke to Drake but stared directly at me. “Maverick, how many times do I have to ask you to introduce me to this angel.”

Drake looked less than anxious to introduce us. “Cody, this is Linda’s daughter and, therefore, technically, my stepsister, McKenna.” Drake seemed to have a much easier time admitting that I was his stepsister than his younger, more opinionated, brother.

Cody’s hand shot out. “Pleased to meet you, McKenna. I understand you’re from California.”

“Nice to meet you. Yes, I’m from California.”

“Well, hell,” Cody said, “then the rumors about California girls being exceptionally hot are true. I’m going to be traveling there next month, and after meeting you, I’m more excited than ever about my trip.”

Drake winked discretely at me. “If you get to California and all the girls look like McKenna, then you let me know. I’ll be catching the next plane out.”

“If you two are through discussing McKenna as if she wasn’t standing right here.” I smiled into my glass and took a quick sip. “I guess by addressing myself in the third person, I’m doing the same.” I tossed back the rest of the wine. “If you men don’t mind, it’s getting a little close in here. I’m going to go out and sit on the swing in the rose garden.” I bowed politely and grabbed another glass of wine on my way out.

The afternoon sun was sitting low in the sky. The temperature had dropped some, but the humidity was still just as annoying as ever. I’d gotten used to my curls and not having to dry or flatiron my hair had been pretty damn nice. I sat on the gleaming white bench rocker and stared out at the ranch. It was a beautiful piece of property, more like a park than a private estate. It must have been grand growing up here. I couldn’t even imagine what it was like.

Footsteps sounded behind me. Much to my chagrin, my attempt at solitude was ruined. Drake’s friend, Cody, had followed me out. He sat, uninvited, on the bench, and immediately, his long legs started pushing against the ground to rock the bench back and forth. It was a motion I would have enjoyed if my head and stomach hadn’t been swimming with wine.

“So, how long will you be in Texas?” he asked.

“Not sure yet.”

The swing lurched forward and back. “What are some good beaches to see in California?”

I sipped more wine deciding it was the only way to make this conversation less painful. “Depends on what you’re looking for.”

He shrugged, and the movement of his massive shoulders made the swing jar side to side as well as forward and back. My relaxing moment outside was turning into a wine induced Disneyland ride. “The usual, sand and water.”

“I meant is your priority good waves? Then try Laguna or Malibu. Or if your priority is bikinis and beautiful girls then try Huntington or Malibu. I guess you can’t go wrong if you head to Malibu. It’s a beautiful strip of coast.” I could almost hear the wine sloshing in my head as he rocked the bench back and forth. I put my hand on his thigh. “Stop, please. Unless you want to be the one stuck holding my hair when I puke, please stop.”

Just then, a tall figure stepped around in front of us. Luke stared pointedly down at my hand, which was still on Cody’s thigh. I yanked it up as if I’d touched a hot stove.

“Lukester,” Cody bellowed, “wondered where you’d gone off to.” He laughed. “Or should I say gotten off with?” Obviously a big fan of his own humor, Cody laughed again, managing to give the bench a good shake.

Luke wasn’t quite as amused. In fact, it seemed good ole, mean and assholey Luke had returned. I figured he wouldn’t be far behind the kinder, more charming version I’d met at the cemetery.

Cody seemed to fidget now under Luke’s harsh scowl. “I was just out here chatting with your pretty stepsister,” he said quickly. “She was telling me about California beaches,” Cody added unnecessarily. Luke’s unrelenting, cold green gaze had shifted over to me.

He stared straight at me as he spoke. “She’s not my stepsister. She’s Linda’s daughter.” His cold tone seemed to make the big man next to me uncomfortable, but I refused to be intimidated by the incredibly handsome and extremely annoying man in the black suit.

I smiled sweetly at Cody. “You’ll have to excuse him. Luke does not like me, and the notion of me being his stepsister leaves a bad taste in his mouth.” I peered up at Luke. He hadn’t shaved since he’d scraped his chin on the dirt, but I could still see his jaw clenching beneath the black stubble. I now offered him a sweet smile. “Isn’t that right,
stepbrother
?” I was pleased that I’d met his asshole behavior with some of my own but then I made the mistake of standing up. Apparently I’d downed more wine than I realized, and that, coupled with the wild amusement ride I’d just endured on the bench rocker, made my head spin like a tornado. I fell forward. Right into Luke’s arms. But not before I’d managed to once again spill the contents of my glass on him. Or more accurately his expensive suit.

He looked down at the wet stain, then lifted his gaze to mine. “I think you’ve had enough wine.”

I pulled back and nearly fell on my bottom. I was really sloshed. What a damn lightweight. “You can’t tell me what to do. You’re not my brother, after all.” I somehow managed to sidle past him and got my feet, but not necessarily my head, going in the direction of the barn. I didn’t hear anyone follow, and I was relieved. I just wanted everyone to leave me the hell alone.

Chapter 9

Luke

I knocked once, hard and loud. There was no response. I’d practiced my manners by knocking. She didn’t wake. I turned the knob and pushed the door open. The heavy curtains were still shut, and the room was dark.

McKenna looked ridiculously small in the giant four post bed with the mound of downy quilts piled on top of her. And she looked ridiculously hot with her long, wild curls spread over the pillow and the blush of last night’s wine still on her cheeks. She was out cold.

She mewled softly in her sleep, and her long lashes twittered as she stretched her thin arms out from the covers. The movement made the blanket slip down from her breasts, her naked breasts, her extremely perfect naked breasts. My cock reacted immediately.

My manners had finished after the first knock. I didn’t turn or look away. In fact, if I hadn’t been completely sure that it would earn me a hard slap across my face, I would have leaned down and pinched one of her taut, rose-colored nipples. That thought made my cock harden more. It seemed I’d had a perpetual hard-on since this girl had stepped onto Texas soil, and it also seemed that nothing was going to relive the ache.

I kicked the side of the bed with my boot.

She gasped and shot up to sitting. The blankets dropped down to her waist. Her mass of hair was a giant pile of untamed golden curls. She blinked into the mostly dark room in complete confusion. Then her gaze landed on me, and she drew in an audible breath. She pulled the blankets up over her breasts.

“Well, that’s disappointing,” I drawled. “They are even perkier looking in the morning. And I have to say, seeing them naked did not disappoint.”

She swept some of the rogue curls back off her face. Her lips were full and pouty and mad. “What the hell are you doing in here? And why are you watching me sleep?” She pressed her hand to her forehead. “And why is someone playing the bongo drums in my head?”

“I’m not watching you sleep. I’m waking you. Put on some jeans and proper shoes. I’m going to teach you how to ride.”

“Ride what?” she asked.

I sighed. “Hell, Slick, don’t sit there buck naked in that big fucking bed and ask a question like that.”

Her face lit up like a little girl’s. What a fucking inconsistency it was with the naked body beneath the blanket. “Ride a horse? Holy shit. I think you just cured my hangover. What should I wear that you, with your high moral standards, would consider appropriate?”

“A suit of armor,” I muttered wryly. The comment stemmed from the realization that the only way McKenna could look anything less than completely fuckable was for her to suit up in armor. Even then, I’d probably just be obsessing about what was under the metal plates.

She laughed at my comment, completely misconstruing the meaning. “You’re not going to put me on that black horse I saw you ride the other day, are you?”

“Nope, I think we’ll start with a little tamer mount.” I headed to the door. “Meet you at the stables.”

***

Ranger was a plodding, easy-going gelding, perfect for a beginner. I wasn’t completely sure what my motives were other than I’d obviously put on my best asshole impression for McKenna, and now she hated me for it. I couldn’t stomach the idea that she hated me. The attitude I’d given her was strictly out of self-defense.

I was putting Ranger in the crossties when I heard light footsteps in the barn aisle. She’d pulled on some skin tight jeans and a t-shirt. Not exactly a suit of armor. She’d swept her hair up in a ponytail but some of the curls had already broken free. They framed her face with golden waves, as if it needed framing. It was already a damn picture.

A bright white smile broke out on her face as she hurried over to Ranger. “Is this my horse?” She patted his neck. “I love paint horses. They remind me of the old west.”

“Ranger is a good confidence builder. He rarely does stupid things. Note the word
rarely
. Every horse does something unexpected and silly given the right set of circumstances.”

I dropped the crossties and slid on the horse’s bridle. McKenna watched the whole thing with keen interest. Her excitement about going for a ride was fucking adorable. “All right, Slick, I’ll let you lead him out of the barn. We’re going into that same round pen you saw me get bounced around in. Ranger likes to keep all his feet on the ground, sometimes even more than he should, so you won’t have to worry about getting bucked off.”

Once we were outside, I pointed to the stirrup. She grabbed the edge of the saddle, stretched her long leg up and pushed her foot in.

“Take hold of the reins, and I’ll give you a little boost up.”

She reached up and hung in that awkward position of a rider with one foot unnaturally high in the stirrup while the other was still on the ground. I moved behind her. A second earlier, it had been an innocent enough idea to give her a hand up, but suddenly, I was just inches from her. Her shiny hair was swept up and away from the back of her creamy neck. I temporarily lost focus as I visualized myself running a trail of kisses along that neck. A fragrance that was somewhere between fresh lemons and a field of lavender drifted off her silky skin. I closed my eyes briefly to absorb her scent, her intoxicating scent.

“Uh, that push up?” Her voice woke me from my fleeting fantasy, a fantasy that included a field of lavender and her naked body.

“Yep, here goes. Now, remember to stop in the middle. I’ve seen people swing right past the saddle to land on the other side.”

The sound of her lyrical laugh coupled with my hand on her bottom, giving her a lift up, brought back another round of erotic visions. This was going to be harder than I thought. I’d started the morning convinced that I had enough grip on myself to take her out for a riding lesson. But now, the reality of just how badly I wanted McKenna was like a slap in the face.

She smiled proudly down from the saddle. “Pretty good, huh? I guess now I just have to learn how to make him move.”

Her enthusiasm for the lesson forced me to focus. I’d started this, and I needed to follow through like a gentleman. Gentleman, fuck, I was going to deserve sainthood after this.

BOOK: Forbidden: Ultimate Stepbrother Collection
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