Off Limits: A Stepbrother MMA Romance (21 page)

"You did!?"
She gasped and looked at me with light shining in her eyes. "Oh,
Jewel! Let's go shopping together!"

My poor mom, she seemed
like she’d been dying to ask me that question. I must have
disappointed her so many times. I’d never really thought of things
from her perspective. I wondered if sometimes she felt like I shut
her out.

But just as I was about
to suggest “how about tomorrow?” she was off again greeting some
guests. There went our moment of mother/daughter bonding. Time to
network!

But I didn’t stand
around playing my tiny violin of self-pity for long. It was hard to
do that when you felt like a princess at the ball. Everyone smiled at
me. Waiters came up to offer me champagne. Gone was the invisible
nerd I always felt like, and in her place stood a siren.

A movie-star-handsome
guy in a tuxedo sauntered over to me.

"Where have you
been all my life, beautiful?" he asked, charm dripping off of
him with his blond hair, blue eyes and a cleft in his chin.

I threw back my head
and laughed. "Does that line actually work?"

He laughed. "I
don't know. You tell me. How am I doing?"

I smiled at him. He was
pretty cute in a sunny sort of way. Nothing compared to the sexy dark
storm clouds that raged around Tuck. But still, what did that 70s
rock song say? If you can’t be with the one you love, honey, love
the one you’re with.

He chatted me up,
amiable and engaging, asking me where I went to school and how long
I’d done yoga. He went to school at USC, which shocked me…not. It
seemed like the magnet school for every rich kid in L.A. This guy
screamed rich kid, which normally annoyed me but he was pretty good
at making me feel like everything I said was enchanting and
hilarious. And I couldn't help but notice the way his eyes kept
flickering over my body, admiring me.

"Fuck off,
Chapin." I knew who’d growled out those words without having
to turn around. My body shivered from his nearness, with
anticipation.

"Well, if it isn't
Mr. Personality." The blond guy turned and clapped Tuck on the
back. I turned to look and could no longer breathe. He was wearing a
tux. It reminded me of the first time I'd seen him. I remembered him
standing there at the party, his bowtie untied and dangling to the
side, a few buttons of his crisp white dress shirt undone. Tonight he
looked impeccable, all of that raw power buttoned into a perfectly
tailored tux, the beast tamed. But I still saw it there, lurking just
beneath the surface, so potent and carnal. It made me want to rip
that tux right off of him.

"Where have you
been hiding yourself, dude?" the blond guy asked. It figured his
name was Chapin. Seeing the two of them standing together, I had to
revise my earlier assessment. Chapin wasn't all that hot. Next to
Tuck, he looked like a pretty, done up mannequin. Tuck towered over
him, every inch real, rugged, raw man.

Chapin continued, the
only one of us talking while Tuck and I feasted on each other with
our eyes. "I didn't even know you were in town."

I wondered if Tuck had
been hiding out from some of the people he used to hang out with. I
guess he had to if he was really trying to make a change. I couldn't
see Chapin hanging out down at the gym.

"How do you two
know each other?" I asked.

"School,"
Tuck said. Burning hot, he took all of me in. I’d never understood
the meaning of the phrase ‘undressing me with his eyes’ before.
Now I got it.

"Tuck and I were
at boarding school together for about six months. Until he got kicked
out." Leaning in closer toward me, Chapin added in a
conspiratorial whisper, "watch out for this guy. He's a brawler.
You're much safer with me. I'm a lover not a fighter."

"Back off,"
Tuck growled. He meant it. Chapin backed off, stepping away from me
with his hands up as if pleading no contest. He had a smile on his
face, but I knew he meant the retreat. "Settle down, dude."
Nodding at me but looking at Tuck, he asked, “Where have you been
hiding this one?"

“Fuck off," Tuck
said, still fixated on me. "She's my stepsister."

Chapin burst out with a
loud laugh. "Well, fuck me. I wish my father would marry me one
of those."

I shot him a nasty
look, but he continued, undeterred. "Listen, babe. You want to
escape from this tiger here, you let me know. A few of us are heading
out to a club later on after this. You should join."

Tuck took a step toward
him, just one step but Chapin jolted as if he’d been smacked.
Trying to regain his suave demeanor, he gave Tuck a mock salute and
me a wink as he headed back into the throng of partygoers.

Tuck stepped toward me
again. "You are not going out with him."

I clutched my drink in
my hands and swallowed nervously. I knew I should protest against his
insane possessiveness, his jealous male staking-a-claim bullshit. But
down between my thighs he made my sex throb and my panties grow wet,
at least the tiny scrap of lace I had on that passed for panties.

"What are you
wearing?" Tuck looked at me like he wanted to rip my dress off
with his teeth. My breathing quickened and my chest rose and fell
under his hungry gaze. "You're not wearing a bra."

This was too much. We
were in the middle of a crowded party, filled with friends of our
parents. He looked like he was about to throw me down and fuck me
beside the punch bowl.

“Excuse me, I’ve
got to… I need some air,” I managed, brushing past him. I felt
unsteady in my high heels. I never wore them, but somehow I figured
I’d feel unsteady even in my bare feet. Tuck knocked me right off
my equilibrium.

He didn’t follow me,
but I could still feel his eyes on me as I walked.

My mom had hung the
French flag from the 20-foot ceiling in the main hallway of the
house. It made me snort. We were as French as a French fry. I’d
never understood her.

But she did know how to
throw a party. Stepping out into the night air, the back yard and
pool area had been transformed into a fairyland. Little white lights
hung everywhere, a string quartet played, even the ridiculous large
twisted arrangements looked cool in the evening light, as if they’d
been bewitched. I had to laugh, remembering Tuck getting eaten alive
by the spiky leaves and reeds. He’d been a good sport to help out
like that. The spoiled brat I’d met in New York wouldn’t have
done it.

Was he really trying to
change? He seemed so sincere that afternoon, basically telling me I’d
been right when I’d told him he was a spoiled rich daddy's boy. It
still made me cringe. I could be pretty cold. Right now I felt so
confused, such a mixture of hot and cold. Wasn’t that what always
caused crazy storms? I could picture a weatherman predicting with a
big map of me—over here we have the cold front of the past, but
coming in fast it’s hot, hot, hot. You know what that means, folks.
Head out to buy your canned goods and batteries. We’re in for a big
one.

I didn’t know what
made sense anymore. I’d had such a clear understanding of right and
wrong when I was growing up. Books good, boys bad. That had gotten me
to 20 pretty well. I didn’t think it would serve me well for the
rest of my life, though. At some point, I had to let down my guard,
take a risk. How had Tuck put it? Live a little.

“Jewel!” A friend
of my mom’s recognized me and came over to give me a hug, ask how
things were going. We chatted for a few minutes before I felt a
familiar blond, smiling presence. Chapin had come back for seconds.

“Are we safe?” he
joked, taking my arm and drawing me toward the shadows near the pool
house.

“I doubt it,” I
answered honestly. Tuck never let up, relentless.

“We should get out of
here.” He brushed back a strand of my hair, then caught it between
his fingers. “I have the craziest feeling that your hair color is
real.”

I laughed again. He was
like the froth on top of a latte, tickling my nose. Nothing as
satisfying as the actual drink, but fun nonetheless. “It’s real,”
I confirmed.

“You might be the
only girl in L.A. who can say that.” He paused and seemed to
consider the statement for a moment. “Or at least the only one who
can say it and be telling the truth.”

I laughed and he smiled
at me. I had to admit, he did have the charming smile down pat. “So
you want to head out?” he pressed. “A bunch of people are heading
to this new club downtown. Or we could drive down to my family’s
place in Malibu. We have a house right on the beach. I’d love to
show it to you.” He trailed a finger down my shoulder and I thought
about how funny it was the way rich L.A. guys flirted, trying to lure
you in with the proximity of their parents’ real estate to the
ocean.

“Back the fuck off,”
Tuck growled from the shadows.

Chapin rolled his eyes
but complied. “The guard dog’s back.”

Tuck didn’t say
anything else. He didn’t have to. He just stepped closer, his fists
tight as if prepared for a fight. Chapin gave me a look. “Another
night, gorgeous.”

“In your fucking
dreams,” Tuck retorted.

“You are one
fucked-up dude,” Chapin shot back as he retreated. “You realize
she’s your stepsister, right?”

I brought my hands to
my face in embarrassment. He knew. He could tell there was something
between us. First the event planner lady earlier this day, yelling at
us to get back to work. Now his school buddy naming it, calling it
out in the open. We had to stop this.

“Leave me alone,” I
whispered and started to move away.

He caught me by the arm
and his touch awakened every sense. My mind had drifted while Chapin
had touched me moments ago, but with Tuck every wiring, every
thought, every impulse zeroed in exactly where the heat of his flesh
met my own. What was this between us? It felt like a dark, wicked
magic, lacing its grip around my body and mind.

“He’s an asshole,
Jewel.”

“I could have made
that call.”

“Let me guess, he
asked you to go to his beach house?”

“So what if he did?
Weren’t you telling me to cut loose? Live a little?”

“Not with him.”

“Tuck!” I threw my
hands up in frustration and pulled away, angry at him and angry at
myself for all the crazy pushes and pulls I had inside of me. “I’m
not yours!” He didn’t get to boss me around. He was right, I
needed to start finding my own voice, making my own choices not so
bound up with fear. I hadn’t wanted to go off with Chapin, not
really, but Tuck didn’t get to make that decision for me.

His strong hand wrapped
around my arm again and before I knew what was happening he pulled me
into the pool house. Door shut, lights off, only a dim glimmer from
the twinkling party lights shone through the window. We were alone in
the dark.

He had me up against
the wall in seconds flat, pinning my wrists over my head like I’d
imagined him doing so many times. The way I’d seen him fuck in New
York. He trapped me, dominant, holding me there so he could do
anything he wanted. In the dark, quiet room away from the party all I
could hear was our breathing, heavy, together.

I twisted under his
grip. “Tuck, don’t.” He tightened his hold on me with one hand,
but drew down the other, caressing my skin, so much exposed, down my
arm, the side of my breast. I shivered under his touch.

“The thing is, Jewel,
when you wear silk…” So soft, liquid heat, he caressed the side
of my breast lightly with the back of his hand. I didn’t know how
he could touch me so gently, so whisper light, all that power held
back. It made me want more.

“You reveal so much,”
he continued, stroking the silk now, making me feel the slippery
fabric against my skin. “And when you wear no bra under that silk…”
Slowly he traced the lower swell of my breasts. “I can see how much
you want me, Jewel.”

Panting, I looked down
and saw my nipples, hard and peaked and needy pushing against the
silk. Undeniable, unmistakable arousal. Transfixed, I watched him
draw closer, teasing me, stroking and gently kneading my breasts in
his hands, still not touching my nipples. I needed him to touch them.

“When I touch you the
way you want, will you say no? Or will you make one of those moans
that drives me crazy?” Finally, his fingers at my aching tips, he
rolled my nipples between his thick fingers. I swear I could feel his
rough callouses through the thin, slippery silk. It shot right down
to my pussy, slick heat building in me there, readying for him. With
a sudden twist, he pinched my nipple, hard. Lips parted, I tried to
bite back a moan but I couldn’t. It felt so wicked, so surprising,
hot and intense. As soon as he did it, he stopped, back to stroking,
gentle, coaxing. I cooed under his touch, melting into him.

“That’s it, Jewel.
Show me how you feel.” He kept speaking as he trailed a burning
path down my silk dress, down my stomach, to my thighs. “Show me
what you want. What you need.”

With my last few shreds
of sanity, I managed, “we shouldn’t do this. Someone might see
us. ”

“No? I shouldn’t do
this?” Up between my bare legs now, he teased my inner thighs,
stroking, petting.

“We could get
caught,” I whispered but I couldn’t think any more, I could only
feel the shuddering heat building in me, the sweep of his fingers.
The way he trapped my wrists I couldn’t stop him, couldn’t push
him away and it liberated me, freed me to close my eyes and need.
Nothing existed but him, his fingers, his hot mouth down on my neck,
licking my throat.

“Do you want me,
Jewel?” With his teeth he bit me lightly, in the hollow of my
throat. I cried out in a painful burst of pleasure. “Or do you wish
you were with Chapin?”

“No!” I couldn’t
help saying, of course not, of course I didn’t want to be with him.
All I could think about was Tuck, when I touched myself, when I
daydreamed and fantasized, which I seemed to do all the time now.