by Nicole Snow
My dick thuds. I instantly think about popping the cork and splashing it all over her, licking expensive Dom or some shit off her tits, tasting it on her pussy, cooling her body with booze before I get between her thighs and burn her to cinders.
“Glass?” She smiles like an angel and gestures to the crystal glasses hanging off a rack. I grab two and follow her down the long deck stairs to the pool below, overlooking a perfect view of the sea in the distance.
A man could get used to fucking a chick out here. Damn if I'm not gonna try, sooner or later, even if I've got to drag her into the pool.
We flop down next to each other in these huge cabana chairs. I'm staring at her cleavage the whole time as she unscrews the cork and fills our glasses.
That sound of the wine flowing into the glass sounds too much like wet, hard sex, the noise we'd make together getting down and dirty.
“I'm sorry last night was so ridiculous,” she says. “I didn't know Evie would give you such a hard time, Chris. I don't blame you a bit for handling her like you did. I would've been just as pissed.”
“Stop, babe,” I growl, taking a long pull from my wine. It's smooth, good, warming. “I didn't come here for family therapy time, and I've got a feeling that's not why you reached out either. What's going on? Why call me back after you turned my ass outta your room last night?”
She looks into her glass, giving it a little swirl. “The night on the beach was a disaster. Something would've happened if you weren't my stepbrother, Chris, I'll be up front about it. But we can't do that now.”
Fuck that, I want to scream. You're wrong. We can do it all, and then some.
My hand burns to smash my wine glass next to the pool and march the fuck out, but that shy little look she's giving me causes my dick to hum fire. It's like she's intentionally feeding me lies I'm supposed to catch.
Maybe this chick is crazy, or just too damned stuck up to admit she wants a working boy in her bed. I've fucked rich girls before. Nobody as high class as Delia, maybe, but damn if I don't know how to handle 'em.
They always play coy. She's going over the line, but it feels like the same game. I crack a thin smile, gently set my glass down, and fold my arms.
“So, what, then? You're here for some brotherly loving?” I watch her do a double take, flustered as ever. “Brother love, I mean.”
“I've been just fine my whole life without any siblings,” she says. “I'm an only child, just like you. Mom divorced when I was in my teens, just walked out of our lives with another man. The stress was too much for her. I know this sounds crazy, but any family friction brings that feeling back. It hurts.”
I look the girl up and down seriously. Her eyes are honest, but I'm not joining the pity party just yet. As far as I'm concerned, nobody on earth needs to know about my old man and his fucked up last days with mom, much less this dark haired beauty who acts like she's out for a therapy hug one minute, and the roughest fuck of her life the next.
“I'm no stranger to family bullshit, Delia. Sorry it upsets you. Mom's always been a huge bitch, and she's got a lot of problems, falling off the screen and all. If she ever pushes you, push her right back. I don't know what she pulled to get your old man interested.”
She smiles sadly. “Probably desperate. He's been a mess since mom walked out, and he's taken a back seat with business the last couple years too, leaving him too much time to think. Time for trouble too, I guess.”
I finish my wine and grab the bottle, topping off our glasses. “I'd say I understand, but I'm not looking to be your shoulder to cry on, babe. Is that the only reason you want me here, or what?”
Maybe it's the booze in my system, but I'm done playing around. Uncle Sam taught me to be sharp and direct, to manage time and damage control like nobody's business. I want to get to the heart of why the fuck I'm here, and if she won't answer with words, or getting her lips on mine, I'm out.
I decided years ago there are three things I'll never do with any woman. Not after what happened to dad.
I don't do drama. I don't do therapy. And I definitely don't do love.
“I just want to know you, Chris. You're interesting. It's not every day a girl meets a Navy SEAL.” Delia looks up, her eyes softer, nervous. “There's this project coming up for my senior thesis in journalism. It's sent my stress levels through the roof, along with everything else going on in the family. I don't need an estranged stepbrother too, you know?”
She offers her hand. I'm not the touchy-feely kind, but hell if I'm passing on any opportunity to touch her again. I reach out, lace her little fingers through mine, and squeeze.
Inside, I'm already smiling because I've figured her out. She's lonely.
I can do lonely chicks, bring a little lightning into their lives, fill them with the hot, real connection that comes from being wrapped around all ten inches of me.
No, I'm not a total bastard. I'll hand out some sage advice, and mean it, even if all I care about is finding out how loud she screams when I'm pounding her ass against the nearest surface.
“It'll be okay, woman. You're a few years younger than me. This shit gets better when you figure out your life. Finish school. Find a good career. Leave this fancy carnival behind. My mom's nothing but drama with a facelift, and you can't be your dad's shoulder to cry on your whole damned life. You've gotta get out there and live.”
“It's not that simple for me, Chris. You've probably had more action and adventure in your pinky than I've had in my entire life.” The sadness in her eyes fades when she looks up, curiosity flickering in her big brown eyes. “What's it like out there? Take my mind off this crap. Tell me something about the SEALs.”
“The first rule about being a SEAL is you don't talk about what happens when you're a SEAL.” I give her a hard glare.
She slides off the chair and stands up, causing her plump tits to bounce. “Come on, Chris. There must be something you can tell me. I'm not a Russian spy or anything. I just want to know what it's like – how does it make you feel?”
I don't like her hovering over me, unless she's going to strip. My hand darts out and I grab her wrist, jerking her down. She crashes against my chest with a squeal, and my free hand reaches for her ass.
That sweet, plump, grabbable, fuckable ass!
She gasps when I squeeze her cheeks for what feels like the thousandth time without seeing it bare. And I'm still not fucking sick of it yet.
“You wanna play truth or dare? Is that what this crap's all about?”
She has to work hard to wiggle my hand off her rear. But she doesn't bolt up and run like before, settling against me, resting her head on my shoulder. I hear her breathe deep, pushing those gorgeous ripe tits flush against my hard muscle, exploding a primal spark inside me.
“Maybe I do, big brother. Like I said – I just want to know you. I don't care who you're running around killing or what you're blowing up over there. Do you like your job?”
I think seriously before answering. The little tease has got her thigh settled around my dick. There's no fucking way she can't feel how hard I am, how bad it hurts not to pull her legs apart and sink down into her, slamming her sweet cunt 'til I explode.
“I wouldn't be there if I didn't like it, babe. Somebody's gotta protect this country. It took me years to find structure, and the Navy's given me that. I don't give a shit what Evie thinks. There's nothing I'd rather be doing than drilling hard and hauling myself onto base whenever duty calls.”
“Hmmm,” she purrs, nuzzling her face on my shoulder before she looks up. “That's really noble. I've always respected military men.”
I roll my eyes. “We're not all prima donnas looking for constant praise. I don't need it from you. The free drinks down by the base are plenty thanks for me. I don't do this shit because I want my ego stroked.”
“Then why?” She lifts her head up and her cheeks are rose red. Thinking about all the blood hissing through her makes my dick harder, knowing how bad she wants me. “Isn't there a
nything else you'd rather do?”
“Playing warrior suits me. It's just like anything else – it's a role, a calling, and I've found mine. You don't walk away from that when it's pulled you in.” I'm tired of these questions, and I lift up my hand from her lower back, bringing it down on her ass.
She jumps at the short, searing spank, and then punches me playfully. “Hey! I didn't ask you to run your hands all over my body and treat me like another one of your beach sluts. Jesus, is that what you thought I was the other night?”
I don't answer her. She hasn't told me a damned thing yet, and there's no way I'm letting her know she's the hottest chick I've seen for several tours. I'm not giving her that power. I'm the one in control, all the time, no exceptions.
“It's my turn, Delia. You wanna play truth or dare? Fine.” I reach for her face and dig my fingers into her chin, just hard enough to tell her I'm not playing around. “How long has it been since you last fucked? Was he good?”
I need to know. I've got a feeling she's going through one helluva dry spell, and if I find out what truly makes her tick, I'll have her panties in my fist by sundown.
She laughs and starts shaking her head like mad, slapping my arm. I don't let go. Don't let up.
I stroke her jaw softly with my thumb, reminding her of all the things I can do to her clit. Hell, her whole body, if only she'd stop talking, stuff the bullshit head games, and get me naked.
“Come on. Who's asking who classified information now?”
She twists her face away from me. The girl's gone a whole new shade of red, blushing like a sunburn, just like a –
No fucking way. She can't be.
I run my hand along her cheek, pushing her gently, forcing her to look at me before I ask. “Are you telling me you're a virgin? You've never been with a guy before?”
She opens her mouth, and her words catch in her throat. Shit.
I push her off me. I need to get room, get oxygen, before my dick or my heart give out. I'm not sure which one it'll be first – guilt and crazy lust start storming in my system, so hard it rattles my bones.
“Fuck, Delia, what're you doing here? You want to fuck me, don't you?” She's bunched up on the cabana chair, staring at me while I'm pacing in front of her, trying to process this ludicrous shit.
“I'm just...having a little fun. That's all. Really, Chris, I don't see what the big deal is. I do want to know you, and I don't mind flirting around.”
“Flirting?” I snort, shaking my head. “Flirting doesn't include having your stepbrother's hand on your ass, ready to tear your panties off. You know, I started thinking maybe it was possible, as fucked up as it is. Now, I know I can't fuck you. No way in hell.”
I start to walk toward the edge of the pool, wondering if I'm too drunk to drive out of this sideshow. Yeah, I sure as shit am – sis and me sucked down most of the bottle. It's amazing how fast booze flows when words are gushing too.
“Jesus, Chris! It's just a little drunken fun. Can't you see I'm trying to fucking open up? And maybe find out if we can at least be friends?”
“I don't need more friends,” I snap. “Not friends I grab ass with. Not friends I want to lock lips with, leaving my marks on their skin. I don't need any friends who aren't going to turn into fuck buddies – and we don't have a chance. There's no way I'm gonna be your first fuck. I'm not screwing up your head and leaving you with the lifelong knowledge that the first man you spread your legs for was your own fucking stepbrother.”
“Screwing up? Screwing up?!” She's got fire on her lips when she runs after me, digging her nails into my shoulder. “What do you think happened the other night? We were so close, Chris. You can't deny it. You're the first man who ever got his hands down there. Do I look screwed up to you? Well?”
Crazy confirmed.
Fucking shit. I don't know how to answer that without breaking her heart.
“We didn't know. It was a mistake, nothing more. Now, you'll agree this truth and dare shit's a bad idea, and I need to get the hell out of here before we piss ourselves off more. Sorry it's gotta be like this, Delia. There's somebody in this town for you out there. Good luck.”
I get about ten steps away when I hear her scream.
“I'm not the one who needs it! Just go ahead and run, you fucking coward. You're right – this was a mistake.” Tears are streaming down her hot red cheeks now, and her arm flaps erratically, hurling her empty wine glass at me.
It shatters on the pool deck with a loud echo.
Coward, huh? If she were a dude, I'd already have her on the ground, one hand on her throat and the other in a fist, knocking teeth out.
She's upset, I remind myself. She's just my stupid, naïve stepsister. One more spitfire who caused my cock to ache, even if she's a little better at it than most.
Nothing more.
I walk away, and this time I don't stop. I'm sober enough to run up the long staircase without breaking my damned neck, and that's all I do before I slam the door to my room.
I need to sleep this bullshit off. In the morning, before she's up, I'll be gone, taking my last look at this insufferable mansion forever. This time, there's nothing that'll bring me back.
I can fuck chicks with a little crazy. I can fuck my own stepsister too, especially when she's hot and willing and wanting.
But I can't fuck my virgin stepsis, no matter how bad every dark, primal urge inside me wants to mount her like no other man ever will. Even I have limits.
I can't leave poison and serious heartbreak in her head the minute after I'm spent. And I can't let her greedy little nails dig me deeper, trying to pull me into some fucked up, impossible relationship, the kind I know she'll want after I've burned the feel of my dick into her brain for life.
5
Over a Ledge (Delia)
I played with fire, and I got burned.
The whole idea was stupid. Idiotic. Devastating.
It takes me a long time to head upstairs, telling a servant to sweep up the broken glass on the way in. I take a long, hot shower, and then I settle down in front of my computer, desperate for a new idea.
There's a new message from the prof. He's needling me about my thesis again, telling me I'd better move and give him some meat. He says the SEAL idea I barely mentioned to him sounds good.
My stomach forms knots. I close the laptop and crash for the night, hating my fucking life.
I just need to get away. There's a fog wrapped around my body and soul. Travel always helps clear it.
Dad has airline perks for the entire family. I can take first class anywhere, and I'm strongly tempted to hop the red eye up to Washington or even Alaska for a week, explore the parks there and forget all about my infuriating stepbrother.
But I can't seriously think about it yet. Not while the asshole is still in this house, teasing me with the SEAL stuff and his own wicked good looks.
What the hell's wrong with him, anyway? I'd have never gone all the way, but if I did, shouldn't most guys want a virgin? I can't understand why he thinks I'll lose my mind.
He's so damned full of himself. Maybe they all are, but especially this badass warrior I'm cursed to share a wall with now.
I can't believe he thinks I'll be obsessed with him forever if I temporarily lose my mind and let him between my legs.
Hell, Marnie barely remembers who she slept with her first time in our freshmen year, and it hasn't slowed her down a bit from poaching more hotties.
I can't sleep. I'm tossing and turning all night, and by about four o'clock, I'm sitting on my bed, listening through the quiet house for any sound of him stirring.
He's gotten me restless, desperate to prove him wrong, to prove to myself how much I don't need him.
It's about thirty minutes later when I hear him getting up to dress.
I wait until his door clicks open before I race to mine. Jumping out into the hall right ahead of him, he stops in his tracks, staring at me like I'm a ghost.
“What?” he gr
owls, holding the heavy bag with all the military gear he always carried around over his shoulder.
“I'm not done with you yet,” I snap, pushing my hands against his chest. “I don't care if you never want me. You made your point loud and clear. I won't tease you anymore.”
“Good. Then kindly get out of my way, sis.” Something about the way he says it sends shivers up my spine.
“No, wait!” I grab his arm as he tries to walk past, and he doesn't stop until my feet are practically dragging on the floor. “Don't go. I still want to know you, Chris. As a friend, I mean, as a brother. No more sexy stuff. No more awkwardness. Please. It doesn't have to be like this.”
He shakes me off, more vigorously this time. I don't follow him. He stops at the stairs and looks back at me, shaking his head.
“Look, girl, I don't know what your issues are, but get 'em sorted the fuck out. It's not my job to help with that. I'm your stepbrother in name only. You're sweet, and you've got a body boys will kill for, but you've got some serious abandonment shit going on. Fix it, get yourself a boyfriend, and maybe I'll be in touch.”
My heart pumps brimstone. I want to race after him and throw myself at him, even though I know how fucking insane that is, tackling a Navy SEAL.
Instead, I force my feet to stay rooted to the floor, listening as he tromps down the stairs and slams the door.
Great.
I'm alone, I'm sexless, and the man who was supposed to give me my knockout thesis just walked out the door.
It's early afternoon when there's a slap at my door. I wake up, rub my eyes, wondering why these screwed up sleep schedules always cause so much grog.
“Yeah?” I pop my bedroom door open and Evie pushes her way inside, smiling like a Cheshire cat.
“Jesus, you're home early, aren't you? What happened to the weekend getaway?”
“Your father and I decided we had more important business here,” she says, flashing me a wink. “He was here last night, wasn't he?”
I try to play dumb until she looks at me sharply, his name written in her eyes. Chris.