Off Limits: A Stepbrother MMA Romance (6 page)

BOOK: Off Limits: A Stepbrother MMA Romance
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Our parents’ big
party was that night. It was going to be huge, epic as some of my
friends liked to say. They’d rented out some exclusive private club
and flown in people from all over the world. At least half the kids
I’d gone to prep school with would be there.

Getting ready, I felt
restless. Not like the buzz or anticipation you were supposed to feel
before going out. This shit was getting old. The champagne fountains,
the truckloads of caviar. I could cut loose and tear my way through
the place, see how many chicks I could fuck and how little I could
remember of it the next day. But I was getting tired of it.

The only thing that got
me going these days, really got my motor revved, was fighting. And
the more I got into MMA, the more I saw this whole scene through a
different lens. Most of the guys at the gym where I trained, the guys
I’d faced off with in the cage, they were tough as shit. They
weren’t playing around. What they’d survived growing up made my
daddy issues look like child’s play. They took fighting seriously.
They didn’t have a college degree, never mind a billionaire father
to fall back on. I tried to keep my background private, but they
knew. I was a rich kid. And they hated me for it, wanted to pound the
crap out of me just because.

I got it. Hell, I even
respected it. I felt the same way myself half the time. I knew I
didn’t deserve to win if I didn’t earn it. That’s a big part of
what appealed to me about MMA. It didn’t matter who your father
was, all that mattered was the fight you brought into the cage.

But that night I knew
what had to be done. I went to our parents’ big wedding celebration
party and played my part, smiled and shook hands. Every now and then
I’d catch glimpses of Jewel like a precious ruby slipping through
my fingers. She had on a red dress, nothing too scandalous, a scoop
neck, ending at the knee, but it was the way she filled it out. And
the way it hid more than it revealed. I couldn’t take my eyes off
of her.

After only a couple of
hours, I saw Jewel slip away. No one else seemed to notice. After
about fifteen minutes, I decided to follow. The idea of tormenting my
shy, nerdy stepsister seemed a hell of a lot more entertaining than
anything that party had to offer. I was a perverted fuck, messing
with my stepsister, I knew that, but I was just after a little fun.
It wasn’t like anything serious was going to go down. I knew she
was off limits.

I figured she’d
headed back to our penthouse and I was right. I got home and saw her
right away, her eyes closed as she relaxed in the hot tub. Naughty
girl, skipping out on the party. I liked that side of her, refusing
to do what was expected.

The light was on
outside on the roof deck, like a spotlight down on the hot tub. It
was a great big one, all redwood and jets, the steam heat making a
dramatic contrast against the background of city lights. I decided
what I felt like right then was a nice soak.

Back in my room I
pulled on some swim trunks. I knew Jewel well enough by then, if I
showed up and stripped down she’d be out of that tub before I could
count to ten. I wanted her to stick around.

“Tuck!” she
exclaimed, startled, as I opened the French doors.

“Skipping class?” I
teased her. “I like it.”

“What are you doing
home? Why aren’t you at the party?” Her eyes as big as saucers,
she started to rise out of the tub.

She was wearing a
bikini, a skimpy one. The tiny triangles plastered wet against her
breasts, barely big enough for her large, round globes. Fuck. I
froze, and not from the cold outside. I’d never seen her tits
before, not like this. I’d thought about them enough times,
remembered how her nipples had hardened at my touch. But these
luscious curves, she was beyond hot. She blew my fucking mind.

Realizing her
vulnerability, she slipped back down into the water, submerging her
body up to her neck. I couldn’t tell, but I’d bet money on it
that she was blushing. Her skin was so sensitive.

I slipped in, keeping a
respectful distance. She was so damn skittish. I had to be careful
not to frighten her off. She didn’t trust me as far as she could
throw me. And she shouldn’t.

“What are you doing
here?” she repeated, sounding annoyed.

“I didn’t feel like
staying.” I shrugged.

“How is New York
surviving?”

I liked that smart
mouth on her. I liked it when she used it to harass me. I’d like it
even better if she used it to do more than that.

“The city is shutting
down,” I confirmed.

“Flags at half-mast?”

“You know it.”

Funny she should
mention half-mast. In the hot water, watching her across the steaming
tub, her hair piled up on top with some wispy tendrils escaping down
framing her face, I wasn’t half-mast. My cock stood up at full
attention, thick, hard and ready to pound. And this wasn’t drunken
beer goggles. I had a light buzz going, but this was stone cold lust
gripping me hard where it hurt.

She settled back,
resting her head against the wood of the tub. She kept her chest
submerged, but I could see the strings tied up behind her neck.
They’d come apart so easy, just a flick of a finger.

“It’s not my suit,”
she mumbled. Clearly, she’d noticed where my attention was fixated.
A smile curled at my lips. “I didn’t bring a swimsuit,” she
explained. “I had to borrow one.”

“Let me guess,” I
asked, moving slightly closer toward her. Sometimes a predator had to
move so slowly the prey didn’t even notice the increasing danger.
“You have a one-piece suit.”

“Yes.” She giggled.
I loved that sound. She looked so cute when she laughed, all those
angry edges instantly melted.

“Is it black?”

“Navy blue.” She
laughed again.

“So, it’s not just
me you laugh at? You laugh at yourself, sometimes, too?”

“Oh, god, all the
time.”

“I haven’t seen
much of it.”

“Well, you haven’t
seen much of me.”

The words hung there
between us. I instantly thought of how I’d seen her last night.
When she’d watched me fuck another girl hard against a wall.

She cleared her throat,
seeming slightly agitated. Maybe that’s what she’d thought of as
well. “I heard you almost got kicked out of school,” she said.

Subject change. Good
one, too. I exhaled and leaned back against the side of the tub. If I
stretched my arms out I bet I could touch her fingers. But I didn’t,
not yet.

“Yeah, I started a
fight club.”

“Why did you do
that?”

I shrugged. “I wanted
to.”

“Of course.” She
rolled her eyes. “You do whatever you want.”

“Do you ever do what
you want?”

She met my direct gaze,
a bit startled. “What do you mean?”

“I mean do you ever
do what you want to do? Instead of what you’re supposed to do?”

“Oh, you’re making
fun of me for studying.”

“That’s part of
it.”

“Has it ever occurred
to you that I might like books?”

“And nothing else?”

She looked at me
angrily, her eyes flashing. I liked the fire in her.

I moved closer. “All
you do is study. Isn’t there anything else you like to do?” My
voice grew huskier as I drew closer. I could see her skin glowing
pink, rosy in the heat. The swell of her breasts rose and fell above
the surface of the water, her breathing agitated.

“I do other things
that I like,” she protested, not sounding too sure of herself.

“Like what?” The
closer I got, the closer I wanted to get. I could see the pulse
flutter in her throat. I wanted to lick it.

“Poker,” she
whispered, breathy.

“Poker?” I smiled.
That wasn’t what I expected.

“I like to play
poker.” She smiled back and it nearly killed me, the secret naughty
look in her eyes. She clearly thought poker showed she had a wild
side. I knew she had a wild side, all right. I wanted to set it
loose. I bet she had no idea how wild she could get.

“So you like to
gamble?” I asked, stretching my arm along the back of the tub. My
hand rested just behind her, not touching. Yet. She kept looking at
me with those luminous green eyes. “You like to take risks?” I
asked.

“When I play poker,”
she whispered.

Slowly, gently, I
brought my fingers up to graze a tendril of her wet hair. She didn’t
pull back. I pressed closer, the side of my thigh touching hers. She
sucked in her breath, but still didn’t move. The heat surrounded
us, the sound of the jets, the steam enclosing us in our own world.

“That’s good to
know.” I stroked her with my voice, low and soothing. Trailing my
finger down to her ear, I lightly traced the edge. She shivered at my
touch, her eyelids fluttering closed for a moment. “I wondered if
you always played it safe. Or if sometimes...” I dipped my hand
down to her throat, my thumb lightly stroking. She felt so good under
my fingers, so right even though I knew it was all wrong.

“Tuck, what are you
doing?” Her voice tense, her breath came in shallow pants.

“I’m just
wondering.” My fingers continued their hypnotic swirls, caressing
her skin. I could feel the struggle in her, her body melting into my
touch, her mind protesting wildly. Leaning close to her ear, I
whispered, “I’m wondering if you’re ever bad.”

“Tuck!” She sounded
distraught, tormented, but she didn’t move away. She stayed where
she was, pressed next to me. My cock strained at my swim trucks, hard
and ready. She was so fucking hot. I felt out of my mind watching
her, touching her but still so innocently. I wanted more.

“Last night, in the
hallway,” I whispered into her ear. Slowly I moved lower along the
creamy skin at the top of her chest, close to the rise and swell of
her breast. Close, but not touching.

“I caught you
watching,” I whispered. She shivered under my fingers, and it
wasn’t because she was cold, not in the hot tub.

Slowly, gently, I
brought my hand down to cup the large swell of her breast. “You
know you want it.”

Her knee came up hard
and sharp, right into my balls.

“What that fuck?” I
gasped as soon as I could. Doubled over in pain, I even missed
checking her out as she climbed out of the hot tub. By the time I
looked up she had a huge towel wrapped around her like a fucking
mummy.

“You arrogant
bastard!” she screamed. “Don’t you ever fucking touch me
again!”

OK, this wasn’t how
I’d seen tonight unfolding. Hand still cupping my aching balls, I
looked up straight into her bright, fierce fury. It felt blinding. I
fought the urge to shield my eyes as if from the sun.

“What are you doing?”
she yelled. “I’m your stepsister! You’re disgusting! I’m not
some skank. I’m onto you.”

She was onto me? “What
is this, a crime drama? Do you think I’m a criminal?”

“No, I think you’re
a player. You take nothing seriously. You fuck women like it’s your
job and you drink like a goddamn fish.”

“Guilty as charged.”
I smiled up at her, projecting more confidence than I felt. But,
really, she should tell me something I didn’t know.

“You’re nothing but
a spoiled little daddy’s boy!”

Oh. That sucked. “Well,
you’re an uptight, repressed bitch.” The words flew out of my
mouth before I’d thought them through.

“What was that you
said?” She brought her hand up to her ear as if she were having
trouble hearing. “It’s hard to hear you with that silver spoon in
your mouth.”

“Said the girl with
the stick up her ass.”

She stared down at me,
hating me with every bone in her body. Why did I still want to bite
her lower lip, hear her gasp and then lick her with my tongue?

“You’re pathetic,”
she spat out. The door opened and closed in a flash, Jewel’s
towel-wrapped body disappearing into the darkness of the penthouse
before I could think of a comeback.

There really wasn’t
one.

She’d called me a
player and an arrogant asshole and I’d laughed and let it roll
right off my back.

But daddy’s boy? That
one cut deep. Because I knew who wrote my tuition checks, who funded
my playboy lifestyle. I knew whose monthly bank account deposits kept
me going in the style to which I was accustomed.

She knew it, too. And
deep down, I knew she was right.

Sometimes life took a
turn and you weren’t fully aware of it. You might make a choice or
a decision and only realize later on what had happened, how you just
changed the shape of the rest of your life.

This wasn’t one of
those moments. This was one of the times when you knew.

I knew I was deciding
something big. I was going to make some changes. I was going to sort
my shit out. It would take time. I had to get a plan in place and
then I had to follow it, ruthless in my execution.

But right then and
there, my balls aching because of Jewel in more than one way, I
decided I’d do it. Enough was enough. It was time to take charge
and go after exactly what I wanted. All of it.

CHAPTER 5

Jewel

“Forget something?”
My stepbrother Tuck stepped into the garage behind me. I looked up
from where I stood at my car about to open the door. Shirtless and
huge in all his muscled glory, he scowled at me like a total prick.

“No, I’m fine.” I
exhaled. Patience. I needed patience. Summer had only just begun and
he was already driving me crazy. I had no idea how I was going to
make it through the next eight weeks. Eight weeks living with Tuck.
The universe was playing a cruel joke and I was not laughing.

This was supposed to be
an amazing summer. I’d finished up my sophomore year and landed the
internship of my dreams at the Marine Mammal Center in L.A. Each
summer they only accepted ten biology majors across the country and
I’d been one of them. I would never have dreamed of living at my
stepfather’s house in Bel Air if I hadn’t had that opportunity.
Unpaid opportunity.

BOOK: Off Limits: A Stepbrother MMA Romance
9.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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