Hard: A Step-Brother Romance (2 page)

Ouch.
Zach shrugged it off.

“It shouldn’t
matter,” I said. “He’s dead, and the world didn’t stop turning. My life’s about
to change. And I won’t miss him at all.”

“Oh
yeah?” Zach slipped a napkin across the bar-top. “Then why are you crying?”

Damn
it. I didn’t mean for the tears to slip out. I turned away to dab my cheeks. I
hadn’t bothered with much makeup. Today was supposed to be the final fitting
for my gown, and afterwards I planned to head to the salon for my hair and makeup
before the rehearsal dinner. Whoops. I forgot to cancel the appointment.

Christ,
this was a mess.

I was
a mess.

“Sorry,”
I said. “Not my night.”

“How
can I make it better?”

“Wow,
you’re relentless.”

“I can’t
resist a good damsel in distress.”

I
waved a finger at him. “Let’s get one thing straight here, Mr. Hard.”

He
grinned. “Yes? Miss…?”

“Shay.”

“Yes,
Miss Shay?”

“I
am no damsel in distress. And you, sir, are no prince charming.”

“Never
said I was.” Two dangerously wholesome dimples framed Zach’s smile. “But I
might be the guy who’d tie you to the train tracks, if you’re into that sort of
thing.”

He
was a piece of work. He was a piece of something else too, but I decided to be
a lady and keep that particular insult clenched in my teeth.

“Unless
you’re packing a magic wand in those jeans—” I held a hand up before he dared
to comment. “And you can reverse time to give me back these last two days, I’m
not interested. So you can move along now,
Hard
.”

“And
leave you to drink alone in a time of mourning?” He ordered another round. “Not
gonna happen, Shay.”

He
said my name like he plucked the ice from my glass, sucked it over his tongue, then
lapped a path up my neck. He cast shivers in all the right places, and that was
absolutely nothing I should have imagined in the sweltering Atlanta evening.

“I’m
a big girl. I can handle myself.”

“Then
why don’t you keep me company instead?”

His
hands curled over his beer, large and strong. Whatever he did for a living wasn’t
what I planned to do with chalk, finger-paints, and a roomful of sticky first
graders.

The thick,
bulging muscles in his arms gave me goosebumps, and the tight t-shirt strapped
over his broad chest flaunted his perfect assets. He was every bit the Southern
treat that would tempt me in all the wrong ways. Guys like him would keep me
from transferring from Georgia State to NYU, like I planned to do for the past
two years.

Muscles
or not, those plans were on hold. Dad’s car accident complicated everything.

Zach
said nothing else. I let him tease me into the question.

“
Why
would you need company?” I asked.

“I
just got a letter about seeing some attorney. Legal stuff.”

I
eyed the coiling, barbed line of tattoos decorating his arm. The dark bands of
ink merged into a rippling American flag, peeking from under his sleeve.

“You
don’t seem the legal type,” I said.

“Nah,
not really.”

“So
what is your type?”

Zach’s
grin confirmed it for me. Apparently, he liked them young, quiet, and mocha.
Not
what I was asking. “What I mean is…you don’t seem like an attorney.”

“You
don’t think so?”

“No
way. You’re not a…” My voice trailed off. Uh-oh, was I staring at his muscles?
“You’re not a behind the desk sort of guy.”

“No,
ma’am. I’m military.”

No
wonder he was built. I swallowed and thought my tongue went with it.

“SEAL,
actually,” he said.

“Seal?”
My eyes widened. “Oh! A Navy SEAL?”

“Yeah.
On leave for a bit.” He took another swig. “Gotta take care of this legal
stuff. Deal with family. You know how it is.”

Oh, Charmer
was more than some cocksure college kid. Much, much more.

Damn
it, I wanted to just sit in the quiet for a while and feel sorry for myself. Somehow
I found the one guy who not only wanted to talk, he actually seemed to
understand. I sighed. The rest of my week was already trashed. No reason to not
ruin tonight as well. I flagged the bartender.

“Another
round,” I said. “No sense for us to hate our fathers alone.”

“I’ll
drink to that,” he said.

The
glasses clinked, celebrating our impending regrets.

Somehow,
I knew I’d learn one hell of a lesson from this mistake.

A
very
hard
lesson.

Jesus
fuck
.

Her
blouse unbuttoned.

Jesus
fuck
.

She
kicked off a shoe.

Jesus
fuck
.

Her
stockings were
thigh-highs
. The thin lace caressed her caramel legs,
dark and luxurious and stretching to her goddamned chin.

The
door crashed behind me. Behind us. Hell if I knew or cared.

Fuck
this was a
mistake.

My
apartment had more alcohol unpacked than clothes. Or furniture. Or anything. I
wasn’t planning on staying long.

And I
wasn’t planning on fucking the most beautiful woman I had ever seen on an
unmade bed. She deserved better than a ratty comforter and wet bath towel
thrown over the footboard.

She
didn’t care.

Christ,
this woman
.

I
tangled my fingers in thick, jet-black waves of absolute elegance. Her
lips—full and puffy and abso-
fucking
-lutely perfect to suck my
cock—devoured me. She kissed like she hadn’t been kissed in years.

Who
in their right mind wouldn’t kiss this woman?

And
what asshole would proposition her to his apartment knowing who she was, what
she was dealing with?

This
asshole.

I
pretended that I was a guy who saw what he wanted. Tasted what tempted him in
the nibbling pulse of her lips. I needed more than just a couple kisses
goodnight and a tug in the shower to relieve the beast such a beauty awakened.
In reality, this mistake would fuck me over quicker than I could say
on your
knees.

I had
two choices.

Be a
gentleman…which I wasn’t. Tell her to pull that silky strip of cloth back over
the most beautiful and softest pussy I had ever seen. Button my pants. Shake
her hand and walk to her car.

Or
.

I could
do what came naturally.

Fucking
her was the easier decision. It was also the wrong decision, but it wasn’t like
I followed anyone’s orders anymore. I was my own man.

And
this man wanted a woman.

I
pushed her on my bed, spread her lovely midnight legs apart, and I feasted on a
pussy so wet and hot I considered grabbing my dive gear and sinking in as deep
as I possibly could.

Volcanic.

That’s
what Shay was.

A
goddamned volcano all molten and ready to blow. A goddess slickening to be
taken. A demand waiting to be filled.

This
woman deserved candlelight and champagne and some sort of twinkly-ass music to
serenade her while I licked every inch of her delicious slit from top to bottom
and back again.

Jesus
Christ
, what was I doing?

And why
did it get me so goddamned
hard
?

“Zach,
oh God.”

And
now her arms were up. She stretched out completely on the bed, spread her legs,
and fucking surrendered to my lapping tongue. Her breasts puffed—perfectly
round and delicious and desperate to be sucked. She wasn’t a super thin woman,
but that got me harder. Curves. Hips. Tits. And god, that ass.

The
things I could do to that ass.

Blood
pounded in my ears. I was damn surprised any of it got away from my cock. I
gripped myself, shamelessly tugging at the thickening length as I savored every
bit of her honeyed wetness offered from a perfect slit.

I
had to take it.

I
had to feel it.

My
tongue wasn’t enough to properly sate a woman who begged—cried out my name and
begged
—for
more attention. With aching and deliberate care, I licked my hand, teased her
slit, and pushed a single finger within a heat more delicious and unreal than
any pussy I ever had the pleasure to claim for my own.

“More!”
Shay gasped.

Who was
I to argue with the lady?

Then
again…

She
would hate me for this.

Fucking
hell, Shay was going to skin me alive.

It wasn’t
fair. This woman redefined passion and lust. She had a pussy tight enough to cut
off the blood flow to my finger. I never wanted anyone more than her, and she was
the worst possible woman for me to fuck. Christ, I couldn’t catch a break.

It
didn’t stop me from jerking my cock harder.

Once
she realized who I was, this woman would kill me in two ways.

First
she’d squeeze my cock off in her perfect, velvet vice.

Then,
when she was spent and sweaty from my pounding and I could properly introduce
myself, she’d rip my head off.  That wouldn’t feel as nice as her tightness.

I
should have stopped. I knew better. But how often would a man get the
opportunity to fuck a goddess? I’d be an idiot to miss out, even if it ended
with a black eye. Hell, I lived every day like it was my last before my
accident. Now that I survived death and flicked off the reaper with two proud middle
fingers, I wasn’t letting anything stop me from enjoying life—certainly not
this crisis of conscience.

Besides,
the lady was in obvious agony. It’d be cruel to pull away from her when she
needed me the most. Her lips trembled my name, her delicate little slit wetted
over my hand, and, damn if she hadn’t wound tighter than a parachute waiting to
be deployed.

I could
either retreat or dive in headfirst.

I
chose the latter.

My
finger inched in deeper. She bucked up to meet it. Her beautiful body tensed,
waiting in shivering bliss for that moment when I’d let her shudder around me.
I took pride in my piloting. No one crashed under my command.

Except
me.

But
I was ignoring that headache while the sexiest woman in existence writhed
beneath my body.

I
teased her, twisting my fingers and testing a tightness so perfect it was a sin.
She dug into the mattress and moaned. Her coo was a beautiful sound. After
months of closed blinds and soundproof headphones, I’d listen to Shay repeat my
name with breathless excitement for an entire night.

And
I planned to do just that.

My
shirt was already off. Shay said nothing about the scars, but I knew she got
off on them. The injury fucked up a tattoo that cost five grand, but at least
the stitches were out and the medics shoved everything in me that belonged
inside me. I leaned over Shay, capturing her perfect lips in another kiss.

She
went right for the scars.

Gentle
touches. Strokes. Always the same. It wasn’t just my muscles. She didn’t care how
many knots I could tie underwater with a single breath of air or how many missions
I led. It was the scars.

The
fucking scars.

I
hated the jagged purple streaks.

Women
couldn’t get enough of them.

It
didn’t make me tough. It made me worthless. I shoved her hands away and bound
them over her head in my grip. She liked that too.

Only
got my cock harder.

“Zach…I
don’t normally do this with strangers,” Shay whispered. “Actually…I
never
do this.”

She
wore a pencil skirt and librarian glasses. Shay looked every bit the part of a
repressed schoolgirl and
Christ
if her tight little slit didn’t prove my
gut instinct about her.

But I
wasn’t about to admit that I did these sorts of things with women less
deserving than her. I grinned.

“Are
you being a bad girl?”

Her
almond eyes flashed with a cocoa darkness. “What? You aren’t a bad boy?”

“Baby,
I’m the worst.”

“Prove
it.”

This
woman. This
goddamned woman.

I reached
over the nightstand and shuffled through the drawer, pulling my fingers from
her greedy little pussy. She groaned in my absence.

“I
got something better for you,” I promised.

Her
quirked smile teased me. “Something
hard
?”

For
her? I was about ready to split my damn skin. I peeled the rubber over my cock
and positioned her legs around me. She arched as I sucked against her breast,
tasting the offering, as rich as chocolate and as soft as silk.

She
might have hated me tomorrow.

But damn
it, she would love me tonight.

With
one fluid motion, I sunk my cock into the hottest, wettest,
tightest
pussy I ever had the privilege of taking. A full stroke. A single, punishing
thrust that stole her breath and pinched her eyes shut against the invasion of
her lifetime.

She
moaned and welcomed me deeper. If I had it my way, I’d never fucking pull out
of her again.

Shay
tensed, offering more of that sweet, perfect temptation between her legs. I
happily obliged, withdrawing only to tease myself with her mind-numbing
tightness. Shay’s wanting pussy clenched and tormented my cock. I bottomed out
in her with an inch to spare. No way was I denying me or her that pleasure. I’d
cram that last bit in her even if I had to spun her around and bury myself in
her sweetness all night.

Not
a bad thought.

She
agreed.

I
rested over her, tangling my hands in her hair, tasting her kiss, watching as
every fucking thrust pushed her body into the bed. Her breasts slammed against
her. I’d rut her until they hit her damn chin. But Shay grabbed them instead.
Held them.

Offered
them.

I
bit her nipple just as her pussy clamped against me.

And
the world imploded.

Her
cries fueled me. Her twisting, aching,
heating
body. Again and again, wave
after wave of her heat gripping me, pumping me, testing the very limits of my
willpower.

Christ,
I was only human. I had no idea what kind of blessed angel this woman was, but
it didn’t matter. I was going to lose myself inside her six ways from Sunday
and never regret a moment of the biggest mistake of my life.

I
gripped her hips, pulling her even closer. Everything in me tingled, tightened,
and for a single, blissful second, the headache faded.

Shay
bucked.

I
might have died there. I’d survived conditioning, combat diving, land warfare
training, and two tours of the most dangerous places in the Middle East, and
now my heart would give out while fucking the most beautiful woman in the
goddamned world.

I
grunted. Shay gripped me. Her voice purred my name.

I
emptied in her, tensing in utter delight.

Three
hard thrusts, a mew of delirious pleasure from her, and I rolled away before
our heat caught me on fire.

I
peeled off the condom and threw it to the floor. Shay panted beside me.

She
tossed an arm over her face. It hid her eyes but not her smile.

“Guess
I know why they call you
Hard
,” she said.

My
cock jerked at the sound of her purr. She was a damn siren. I’d explode if she
just whispered something dirty in my ear.

“Ain’t
seen nothing yet, baby.”

“SEALs
do have endurance, don’t they?”

That
we did. I reached back into the nightstand and ripped another wrapper with my
teeth.

“You
want some more?” I asked.

Shay
pushed herself up, looking me over with a quirked eyebrow, bitten lip, and
exposed, slickening pussy. She shoved me onto the bed and jerked my cock before
grabbing the rubber.

Then
she straddled me, rubbing my cock along the dark petals that teased me with her
promise. She bobbed only on the head, groaning as I stretched her with the
first few inches of my length.