Rock Hard: A Stepbrother Romance (Extreme Sports Alphas) (5 page)

Earlier that day

I
slipped over the fence and watched as Becca kept walking back toward the house, mentally kicking myself for bringing her along on my little “hike.” She was going to get suspicious if I kept giving her bullshit answers to every question she had.

I turned and hurried out into the woods, moving faster than normal. I had to get to the van and then meet Thom for the drop, and although I had plenty of time, part of me wanted to put as much distance between Becca and me as fast as possible.

It wasn’t like she would follow me or anything. Even though she had grown up in Ridgewood and hiked the woods a thousand times, she still didn’t know the area like I did. As far as I could tell, she’d forgotten what it was like living out near the wilderness. She’d gone a little soft out at college.

But I hadn’t gone soft.

Far from it, over the last few years I had learned more about the woods than anyone I knew. For some reason it just came naturally to me. The world made sense when I was out moving through the trees, quietly tracking deer or following a path nobody else could see. It wasn’t exactly the same feeling I got when I was climbing, but it was close.

It took me a half hour of hard hiking to find my little van hideout. I pulled open the door and climbed in, shutting it behind me.

Home sweet home. Or at least, my home away from home. It was my safe haven from the world, the one place where I knew nobody would bother me. Becca was the only person I had ever shown it to, and it would probably stay that way for a long time.

I reached under the mess of wool and cotton blankets and felt the smooth package wrapped in brown paper. It was pretty large and weighed a ton. I jostled it slightly and heard the unmistakable sound of clattering pills.

The worried knot in my stomach finally unclenched and I let out a sigh of relief.

I hated leaving the stuff out in the van, but I couldn’t risk taking it home with me. I knew it was incredibly unlikely that a random hiker would find the van, let alone decide to steal everything from it, but still. It was a risk leaving it out in the open.

I covered the package back up and leaned against the back door. The memory of kissing Becca came back to me unbidden.

That fucking girl. She had no clue what she did to me, even though I was constantly telling her. I loved the way she walked, her hips swaying slightly, that nice ass full and thick. I wanted to grab her hips and press her up against a tree to fuck her brains out every time we talked.

I could feel my cock stiffen against my jeans. I unbuckled my belt and pulled them down, revealing my stiff shaft.

Becca. I wanted to make her come as many times as was humanly possible. I began to stroke myself, thinking about her body and what I’d do to it.

I wanted to press my tongue against her clit and hear her moan. I wanted her to beg me to fuck her as I continued to lick and suck her pussy, sliding one finger in and out of her.

I wanted her to say my name as I pulled her hair and rammed my dick deep. I wanted to feel the sweet wet warmth of her soaked-through pussy as she bucked back against my dick, riding me like she needed it more than anything.

I clenched my jaw as I moved my hand faster. I wanted to feel her body tense as an orgasm built and went rolling through her skull.

I wanted to feel her soft tits in my hands.

I wanted to make her toes curl and her eyes roll back.

I wanted to fuck my stepsister’s tight pussy roughly over and over, again and again.

The orgasm hit me hard and I came thinking about Becca’s body sweating underneath mine, writhing in pleasure as I filled her.

“Fuck,” I grunted softly. I grabbed a blanket and cleaned up the mess. “Look what you do to me,” I mumbled.

I really didn’t have time to be jerking off, but it wasn’t like I could take it back. She was such a distraction, a sweet fucking sexy distraction, but one I couldn’t afford. Not until I was free of Thom and the rest of those thugs.

I pulled my clothes back on and climbed out of the van, checking my watch. I could still be on time if I hurried. I grabbed the paper-wrapped package and slammed the door shut before setting off.

The meeting place wasn’t far, another mile or two. I had made this hike many, many times over the past few years, and never once because I actually wanted to. The old nervousness never went away.

I knew what kind of guys I was involved with. I knew the stakes, had seen them firsthand. Shit, I was knee deep in the fucking stakes.

They were bad people. That was putting it simply. But when my mom got sick, I had to figure out a way to make extra money. Rock climbing wasn’t going to do it. Even if I won every single contest on the West Coast, I’d still barely be able to make a dent on her medical bills.

Thom gave me an opportunity to provide for her. I hated what I had to do, but it was the best money around. I happened to have the knowledge and the skills required, and his employers paid very, very well.

That is, they paid very well unless you fell down a ditch and lost their supply. Then you’d be in debt to them, working twice as much to pay it off.

I crested the rise and saw Thom’s car parked in the small clearing up ahead. I clenched my jaw and resolved myself.
Just another drop-off
, I thought.
I’ve done this plenty of times
.

As I moved down the hill and through the trees, I saw Thom and another guy I didn’t recognize climb out of the car. I moved slowly into the clearing, looking at them warily. Thom waved, looking friendly enough, but the stranger’s expression remained blank.

He was about my height, around six three, and muscular. His neck was thick and covered in tattoos. I knew instantly what kind of man he was, and wondered why the fuck Thom would need to bring him to a simple exchange.

“Hey, Climber,” Thom called.

“Thom. Who’s your friend?”

Thom’s face fell for a second as he glanced at the man. “Climber, this is Jacques.”

The man nodded. “Call me Jay,” he said, his French Canadian accent thick.

“Okay, Jay. I’m Reid. Some people call me Climber.”

He didn’t respond.

“Jay is taking over some distribution down in this area,” Thom said, looking uncomfortable.

“Am I going to be dealing with him now?”

“No, still me. He just wanted to come along and see how this worked.”

I looked at him. His dark brown eyes gazed back at me almost lazily. His heavy leather jacket could have easily concealed a gun, and he made me incredibly uneasy. I guessed he probably had that effect on most people, and cultivated it.

“This is pretty much it,” I said, holding the package out.

Thom took it and tore the paper open. “Climber is our best mule.”

“Don’t call me a fucking mule.”

Jay looked at me curiously. “Is that not what you are?”

“I may be running shit for you guys across the border, but I’m not a mule.” Thom opened the box and began to sort through the bottles, making sure everything was there. “Plus,” I continued, “I’m out as soon as we’re square.”

“As soon as we’re square,” Jay repeated.

“He lost a package. Now he’s paying that off,” Thom cut in.

“Lost a package. I thought he was the best?”

“Accidents happen.” Thom gave me a look.

I stared at Jay. “Almost died that day. I’m making it right.”

He looked back at me, his eyes flat. He didn’t respond and I felt a chill run down my spine.

Thom finished going through the pills. “It’s all here. Vicodin, Percocet, OxyContin, even some Demerol. Only the finest prescription pain meds Canada has to offer.”

Jay motioned for the package and Thom handed it over.

“Am I done here?” I asked.

“Almost,” Jay said. He began to go through the pills while Thom watched, looking uncomfortable.

In all the time I had worked with Thom, I had never seen him look so anxious. We had people come on drops with us before, but Jay was clearly someone different, someone important.

Someone dangerous.

“All good,” he grunted, handing the package back to Thom.

“Great. Well, pleasure as always. See you later,” Thom said to me.

“Wait,” Jay grunted. Thom looked up, surprised. “We have new deal.” Jay gave me a long look, and then said, “You’re going to make runs once a week until debt is paid.”

I blinked at him. “Are you fucking crazy? Twice a month is dangerous enough.”

“Once a week. We meet here again next Monday for the drop.”

“How is that even going to work? Is there enough supply up north?”

“There’s supply. They know you’re coming.”

I clenched my jaw. Making the hike up across the Canadian border wasn’t an easy trip, although I had mastered it over the past few years. It still took at least a day to get up there and another day to get back, with one night camping out in the woods.

How was I going to explain to my parents why I was disappearing for two days every single week? Every other week was bad enough, but I made it work by varying my schedule. I didn’t have enough excuses to make any more variations in my normal routine.

“You’re putting me in a bad spot,” I said.

“We know. But Jay here, he knows what he’s doing,” Thom said, trying to play the peacekeeper.

“You’re the best, no?” Jay said, staring at me. “You want to get out of this debt?”

“Yes,” I said through my teeth.

“Then do these runs. Don’t complain again.”

I wanted to break his jaw then and there. As the anger flowed through me, I realized that I wasn’t afraid of him at all. Yeah, he creeped me out, but that didn’t mean I would hesitate to smash his arrogant face.

But I needed to pay back my debts. It had been too long since I last devoted myself to climbing, and the urge to get back on the walls was getting too powerful to ignore. Now that my mom was better and the bills were down to a manageable level, I didn’t need the cash as badly anymore.

It was a big risk, but I’d be out.

“Fine,” I said. “But don’t call me a mule.”

He smiled, a sick, twisted, and creepy smile. “Very good. You’re very good, Climber.”

“Great. It’s settled. See you next Monday, Climber,” Thom said.

I watched as Jay climbed back into the car, smiling to himself. Thom gave me an apologetic look.
You piece of shit, you better have a good explanation for this
, I thought as he started the engine and drove off.

As soon as they were gone, I turned back and headed toward home. The sun was low in the sky, and I knew I had to hurry if I wanted to make it in time for dinner.

But I was nervous. Things were changing, and I didn’t know why. As far as I knew, everything had been going smoothly, aside for that one missed drop. But Jay showing up out of nowhere meant things were in motion that I knew nothing about.

And one run a week was going to be hard, really hard. I was going to have to push myself further than I ever had before. I almost died once trying to get the drugs across the border. I wasn’t trying to do that again.

Sometimes, late at night, I still dreamed about that fall.

It was getting dark, but I had to keep pushing. The cold was sapping into every corner of my body, tightening my muscles, making my breath come looser. I was already behind schedule and I needed to hurry if I was going to make it home on time.

The package was snug in my pack. I picked my way carefully through the trees, walking fast but not quite jogging. I was still an hour or two from home, but I didn’t want to stop and make camp.

Suddenly, I heard a twig snap nearby. I looked over in that direction, distracted.

It happened so fast. One second I was moving through the low snow, looking for whatever animal had made the sound, and the next I was tumbling head over heels.

I wasn’t sure how I missed the ravine, but I had. Luckily, the hill I fell down wasn’t too steep. Still, my pack went flying. It broke open, snapping the pill bottles and sending the white specks into the clean snow. I wasn’t worried about that yet, though, as I slammed into a tree at the base of the hill.

The wind whipped out of me and pain lanced through my ribs and my wrist. I lay there, breathing deeply and blinking.

I was fucking lucky to be alive.

After a few minutes of making sure nothing was broken or bleeding, I hurried off to find my pack.

The horror when I saw that the pill cases were broken and the pills had scattered filled every inch of me. I tried to find as many as I could, but they were gone, lost in the white snow, scattered across the hill.

I limped back home, broken, bruised, and worried.

Thom and his handlers had been pissed when I showed up empty-handed. That was supposed to have been my last run. Mom had gone into remission and the bills were mostly paid off. Between Jack and whatever I could scrape up, we’d be fine.

Instead, I was on the hook for more runs.

I sighed, catching sight of the smoke rolling lazily from the house’s chimney. My parents believed all the money was coming from climbing competitions, or at least that’s what I had said. Part of them had to know that I was doing something else.

But they didn’t ask questions. They didn’t want to know.

It was better that way. It was better they didn’t know the truth, that I was risking my life and my freedom. That I was smuggling prescription pain drugs for asshole thugs just to pay off my mom’s crushing medical bills.

As I moved over the fence and walked back toward the house, I hoped they never found out. I didn’t want to see the disappointed look on my mom’s face.

I had to get out. Five more runs.

Five more weeks.