Man Up Stepbrother (3 page)

Great. Just fucking great. I'm finally making some headway with her and we have to run into her ex and his baby mama. I'm not sure what I should do. Do I give her time to compose herself in the bathroom? Or do I go in there after her?

"End it!" I hear the shithead raise his voice at the woman he's with. He's a real fucking winner.

"Can I get you anything else? Refills maybe?" The server's standing with her hands on the back of Allie's empty seat with a sweet smile. A smile I think is meant to warm and soften me up.

"No. Thanks. We're good," I answer, taking my eyes off the door to the ladies’ room.

Once I'm alone again, I look back. He’s standing by the door. He must be waiting. For Allie? Fuck that. This night just got a whole lot more interesting. I crack my knuckles before glancing behind me at the woman he's with. She's gone. Nowhere in sight. Bet she followed Allie into the ladies’ room.

Ah fuck. I don't mind getting down in the mud and slinging some around, but I don't want Allie to wrestle in any of the ugliness this can turn into. And seeing the other woman clearly hurt Allie. I stand and survey the restaurant before making my way over to the bathrooms.

There's only a table with two guys and a few stragglers at the counter placing their order. Standing just outside the out-cove to the bathroom, just beyond dickhead's sight, I listen to make sure there's no yelling or crashing coming from the ladies’ room. If there is, I'll just have to go in and break it up. I decide to get closer and move to the entrance of the doorway separating the bathrooms from the rest of the place when Allie walks out.

He grabs her arm.

My body tenses. I mean every fucking muscle in my body is taut and ready to fight. I'm a few steps away and struggle to control the urge to lunge at him. I want to knock him out. One blow to the nose. That's all I need.

Keep it together.

It's not my calming thoughts or teetering self-control that keeps me plastered to the spot I'm standing in. It's Allie herself. She's not breaking down in a puddle of tears, and she doesn't even look affected by him.

"Don't. Touch. Me." I see her swallow hard, but she's standing tall and her voice is strong. She looks like she's ready to spit nails.
Good girl.

"Can we talk for a minute. Please?" he asks. "It's been months and you haven't spoken to me. You haven't returned one message."

"Because I have nothing to say."

"Then you can listen. I have a lot I want to say." He's closing in on her and I want to force him back.

"It's not necessary. There's nothing I want to hear from you, so get back to your date and let me get back to mine."

My chest swells with pride. Not because she just referred to me as her date, but because of the strength and grace she just handled herself with. I smile and extend my hand to her, hoping she'll take it and perfectly fine if instead she ignores me and shakes her ass on by as she walks back to the table.

"Your date?" He turns, and it's like he just noticed me. Yeah, he's not
too
into himself.

Much to my delight, Allie grabs my hand as she keeps moving forward.

"Wait!" Dickhead follows us. "Where do I know you from?"

"Want to take this to go?" I ask Allie as if it's only her and me, and this asswipe didn't turn into an uninvited guest.

"The wedding." He snaps his fingers. "That's where I know you from. You're..." I swear I can smell the wood burning as he tries to piece this together. "You're her brother, aren't you?"

"What's it to you who I'm with? In case you forgot, you cheated on me and didn't even have the sense to use protection."

He runs his hand through his hair. "I made a mistake."

"A pretty huge mistake, and it cost you the right to have any say in my life. You don't get a say in who I date, or who I kiss, or who I sleep with. So walk away and forget you ever saw me."

"You're right. I lost my say. But shit, Allie, screwing your brother?"

"Stepbrother," she corrects.

"Either way, that's pretty fucking
wrong
."

"Alright." I say, getting back to my feet. She's been handling herself fine, and I could give a rat’s ass that he's insinuating that we have some sort of perverse relationship, but he's not backing off, and I'm not a pussy that's going to sit by and watch a woman get bullied.

"It's time to leave." My voice is calm, but my body is ready to brawl.

"Mind your business." He turns from me and reaches for Allie's arm.

Before he makes contact, I shoot my body between them, grab his wrist, and squeeze. "I said it's time to leave." I say it with a lot more authority so he understands there's no refusal. No negotiating. He doesn't have a fucking choice anymore.

"And what if I don't want to leave?"

"Then that pretty little thing you came with will be spending the rest of her night holding your hand in the ER."

He takes a minute to stare me down. That's fine. No way in hell I'm going to be the first to blink. I've got muscle, mass, and motivation on my side.

"Real fucking classy." He backs up and walks away, shaking his head.

I watch him slink back to his table. His dinner date is back and she looks pissed. If they're spending the night together, dude, better sleep with one eye open.

I glance at Allie to make sure she's okay, but her eyes won't meet mine. The reason why they broke up is no secret. Not after that confrontation. The bigger question I have for her is why she was with such a douche to begin with? Now's not the time to ask. Now's the time to keep her from dwelling on the pain he's caused her. Now's the time to make her forget.

"What do you say we go for a few drinks?" I want to cheer her up.

Allie shakes her head, still not looking at me. "That's not such a good idea." She looks down at her T-shirt and jeans. "I'm not dressed to go out, and in the frame of mind I'm in right now, if I drink, I'll end up doing something stupid. Something I'll regret."

"I think you're in the perfect frame of mind. And I won't let you out of my sight."

"Jagger, that's really nice of you, but--"

"No buts." I hold up my hand as if I'm making a solemn vow. "I give you my word, I'll make sure you get home safe and sound. And if you wake up in the morning with any regrets, you can drive my truck for a week."

The look of shock on her face gives away her surprise at my comment. "You'd really do that?"

"Hell yeah. But if that's what you're looking forward to, I can already tell you're going to be disappointed. I don't break promises. And no one drives my truck. You're going with me, and you'll be leaving with me. I guarantee it."

Her lips curl into a smile. "We'll see. Get a box for the pizza."

Chapter 4

Allie

Bouncing around in the front of Jagger's sleek black pick-up truck, I'm wondering what I was thinking when I agreed to this. Jagger thinks I'm worried about leaving with a random guy I'll meet tonight. I'm worried about leaving with Jagger.

The entire cab smells of him. A blend of his cologne and woodsy scent. Right now, the smell itself is intoxicating. Between that and the way the moonlight spills into the car and reflects off of him, I can pretty much guarantee we're going to be swapping cars. Because nothing spells regret like a night unleashed with Jagger.

I should've just said no. To everything. To the whole screwed-up, epic fail of a night. I didn't need to bail Jagger out. I didn't need to see Bailey and the bitch. Especially not with Jagger by my side.

"Told you the back roads would be more fun." Jagger throws a sideways glance at me.

"Fun? These aren't even real roads. They're dirt. Someone's probably going to come after us with a shotgun because this is private property."

He shrugs a shoulder. "The land belongs to the township. As long as we don't stop for any length of time in one place, no one is going to bother us."

"Oh. My. God! How do you know that?"

"What? You think this is my first time at this rodeo? By the time the police get here, we'll already be where we're going and no one will be the wiser."

"Jagger!" I squeal. "This really is private property? I was just joking about that."

He chuckles, and the sound reverberates inside the cramped quarters as I look out the windows for colorful flashing lights.

"I can't get arrested. I'm an interior decorator. People invite me into their house. It'll ruin the little bit of a reputation I've built up, and my father will kill me."

"You don't need to worry. If the police chase us, I'll outrun them."

"Seriously?"

Thoughts of opening the door and jumping out race through my mind, but I have no idea where the hell we are.

He laughs again, and I want to punch him in his pompous face. By the time we make it back on a main road, I hear the low whine of sirens in the distance.

"Told you."

Even though there are other cars on the road, my rattled nerves get the best of me. I'm trembling. Thank God I don't have a drink in my hand at the moment. If I did, it would be all over the leather interior of Jagger's truck. Would serve him right though after a stunt like that.

I welcome the silence that falls over us for the next few minutes. I guess if I want to find a bright side to the situation, at least for this short period of time, I'm not thinking about Bailey and Slut Face.

Jagger turns into a packed lot of cars. The Tavern is a large, solitary building in the middle of nowhere. I've passed it before but never considered going in. No one I knew hung out here, so I dismissed it. Actually, I thought it was probably an MC hangout. I'm not convinced it's not.

"Ready to go have some fun?" Jagger looks over with a wicked gleam in his eye.

"You're joking, right? Just take me back to my car so I can go home."

"I didn't think you'd want to get back on the dirt road so soon. If we turn around now, we'll probably cross paths with the police. But hey, if you want to finish out your Thursday night in the clink, who am I to say no?"

"I'm guessing you don't hear the word no a whole hell of a lot."

Jagger doesn't answer before getting out. I hesitate, still not certain I want to follow. Before I could make up my mind, Jagger opens my door and is waiting for me to move. When I don't, he extends his hand to help.

"There's no need to be jealous, sunshine. I came with you, and I'll be leaving with you. Not looking to give anyone else the chance to say no. But if it helps you any, I'm a whole lot more familiar with the word yes."

"You are such a pig-headed double ass!" I say, getting out of my seat and hopping off the side running board. My footing isn't perfect and I'm off balance. Jagger uses this as an excuse for his hands to grip my waist. I want him to pull me in against his chest, but he doesn't. He helps steady me and takes an extra-long moment to stare into my eyes.

"It's okay," he assures me. "Double ass or not, I'm here to catch you if you fall."

*

Country music pipes through the large open space inside. I look around, expecting there to be an open area for line dancing and bales of hay lining the walls. I'm not judging a book by its cover, but by the sound of the music. This isn't my usual scene, and my interest is piqued. There's no line dancing, nothing out of the ordinary. Just people sitting at tall round tables talking, while others are drinking and moving to the music like they would in any other bar. I'm not sure if I'm disappointed or relieved.

Through the dim lighting, Jagger leads the way over to the square bar in the middle of the room. I notice a small stage area against the wall on the other side of the bar. I don't see a drum set or enough mikes to indicate it's set up for a band, just one tall stool and a microphone stand.

"What's your poison?" Jagger leans in and speaks directly into my ear. The warmth of his breath sends shivers down my spine.

"Vodka and cranberry."

Jagger leans both hands on the bar as he places our order. When our drinks come, he clinks his beer bottle against my plastic cup. I throw back and empty half of my glass in one long swig. It burns going down. That's what I want. Something to burn through my memories and singe my heart. Just knock the beating freak right out of commission.

"Feel a little better?" Jagger asks, his brown eyes intense as they meet mine and pierce into me.

"Not even close," I answer before I down the second half and order another.

I watch Jagger cradle the drink in his hand. His fingers are wrapped around the long neck. He eyes the liquid and swirls it around before bringing the rim up to his lips.
How does he makes that look so damn sexy?
I wish I could trade places with that bottle and feel him caressing me the way he does his drink.

My second drink comes as I'm watching him stroke his thumb up and down the neck of the bottle. I imagine him stroking my neck with the same tenderness and finish my second drink faster than I devoured the first.

I was never a big drinker, not even in college, and when I did drink, I avoided the hard stuff. I stuck with beer because it was cheap and convenient. After tonight, those days are long gone. This is
so
much better than beer. My new go-to is vodka and cranberry because we haven't been here long and I'm feeling it already.
Or is it Jagger intoxicating me?

"Dance with me." I tug on Jagger's hand.

His eyes drop to the floor, and he looks adorable as he shakes his head. I can't tear my eyes away from him.

"How 'bout I stay here and watch while you dance?"

"You're into watching?" A host of dirty ideas race through my mind. "I don't take you for the type to sit back and watch. I'd put money on you being an active participant."

His top teeth rake over his bottom lip as he looks up at me through his lashes. Thick, dark lashes that veil the look of lust in his eyes. A look I've never seen from Jagger. Not for me, or Lexi. Not for anyone.

"No, sunshine. You got me." He grins and shakes his head. I'm still holding one of his hands, but I feel the other against my hip. Even though it's not direct contact and he still has a grip on the beer bottle, this contact burns through my clothes and brands me. "I'm an action guy all the way." He raises an eyebrow playfully. "Thing is, I'm not much into group activities. I perform best in private."

Is that…did he just proposition me?

I feel a surge of heat and need between my legs. Holy hell, what he does to me with those looks and his insinuations! I need to do something with my mouth before I kiss him. I reach for the bottle of beer he's nursing, purposely brushing my fingers against his. My skin buzzes from the contact. 

Once I have a hold on the bottle, he lets go. I'm disappointed, but his eyes are still glued to me. With my fingers gripped around the neck of the bottle like his were a moment ago, I lift it to my mouth. I wrap my lips around the rim and take a long swig of his drink, my eyes never breaking contact with his. His tongue peeks between his lips as he rolls the bottom one between his teeth.

I lean forward, contemplating kissing his neck. Instead I whisper in his ear, "I think you're afraid your moves aren't all that," I challenge, hoping he'll take the bait. I want him out there on the dance floor with me. I want an excuse to press my tits against his chest and to grind up against him. I'm looking for a reason to feel his breath tickle my skin and his heat to cover me like a blanket.

He shakes his head with a smile, and the energy between us shifts. It's no longer a super charge of electricity. "No dice. But for the record, I'm all that and a bag of gold."

"Then come on." I tug again, but I can't move Jagger. It's like he's made of cement. The only way I'll get any give is if it's something he's willing to do. Seeing that I'm getting nowhere, I let his hand drop. "Fine. Order me another drink."

I back up onto the dance floor, keeping my eyes focused on him. He's talking to the female bartender as I move into the crowd, and it irks me. The give and take of the conversation is going on too long for a simple drink order.

There's a lot of back and forth, and she keeps smiling at him. Flirting. Bitch.

I feel a twinge of something twisting in my stomach. I'm not sure if it's from the alcohol or the bartender. But I want to go scratch her eyes out. I can't blame her for giving it a shot. Jagger is sweet on the eyes. So sweet at the moment I want to taste and lick him all over.

I want his attention back on me. All of it. And I'm going to get it.

I allow my hips to sway in time with the music. I feel his eyes on me. I look up and fall into those warm pools of chocolate. That's better. I smile at him, giving him my best come-and-get-me look. He doesn't move. His stare is so strong though, it's like his eyes have arms that just wrapped around and hugged me.

I take a break when Jagger holds a plastic cup out to me, signaling my drink is ready.

"Thanks," I say, taking a long sip.

"Maybe you should give the dancing a rest. Looks like you're working up a sweat out there," he says, allowing his eyes to fall from mine and trailing down my neck and then to my clinging T-shirt.

"No way." I challenge him with my stare, "I'm just getting started. Besides, this should help cool me off," I say, holding the plastic cup up and pressing it against my cheek, dragging it down the side of my face, down my neck to my chest.

"Sweetheart," he leans in and speaks right into my ear, making my insides quiver. "You keep that up and I might have to cool you down myself by taking you out of here, stripping you down under the moonlight, and rubbing ice all over your body."

Cool me down? The scene he set did nothing to cool me down. Instead the image ignited flames. Hot, burning flames inside me.

"Promises, promises. You want to get me out of my clothes, you have to dance with me first. Come on."

I don't try to pull him. Not by the hand anyway. I intend to tease him until he can't help but join me. Again, I back up into the crowd. This time I close my eyes and tune out everything but the sound of the music and the desire to feel Jagger's hands on me.

My body moves as if the music and I are one. My hands crawl up my sides and into my hair as my knees bend and my hips sway. I drop my head back as my hands start inching their way down the sides of my face and neck, until bingo! Strong, firm hands grip my waist from behind as I'm pulled against a warm, hard body.

I smile in celebration. I knew I could lure him over.

I open my eyes, feeling triumphant, and meet Jagger's penetrating stare. A scowl covers his face. His eyes are dark. Angry. The hands on my waist move up my sides and brush over my breasts. It's this moment my heart skips into a frenzied rhythm. Frozen in fear, I can't move. While I've been trying to tease and tempt Jagger, another man stole his invitation.

I turn to face the man I'm dancing with. I need to break away. Before I can make a move, he leans in, his mouth searching for mine. Turning my head, I avoid his lips and take a step back. He pulls me tight against him, holding me closer this time.

"Relax, sweetheart." 

My hands push against his chest and I arch my back as his lips drop to my neck just below my ear. He peppers kisses up toward my mouth. I can't push him off, can't squirm out of his hold. His lips feel like spiders crawling on my skin. Before they make contact with mine, I'm pulled away, out of his arms, and spun around.

My heart pounds furiously against my chest, fear and adrenaline having taken over. Jagger doesn't look at me, doesn't say anything. Still, I feel my body relax and let go of the insane tension I felt a breath ago in the grips of the stranger. 

"She's with me," Jagger growls, his eyes locked on the guy behind me. If I didn't know better, the look on Jagger's face would frighten me. It's downright menacing.

"Looks like she's on her own if you ask me."

"No one's asking."