BIG: (A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance) (24 page)

“I won’t give you up now. I can’t.” His eyes were wet in the dim light. “And no more tests of your loyalty. I promise.”

She slid her hands up the back of his neck and pulled his face down to hers. She needed to do something with this energy, these pounding waves of relief flooding her.

His eyes remained wide, wondrous, huge pools of hope and longing. She kissed him, taking him deep and massaging his tongue with her own, loving the feel of his groan in her mouth.

She ran her hands back down from his head, over his shoulders, down to his chest, brushing her fingertips beneath the hard ridge of his pecs. He trembled and she stroked down his sides to the elastic of his boxers, slipping her hands lower to ghost her palms around his cock and balls.

He was hard already, his kiss losing rhythm as she slipped her fingers up into the leg of his boxers to stroke lightly behind his balls. He gasped but parted his legs just a little more for her.

She drew the softest figure-eight on that spot, making him break off the kiss and drop his head all the way back, a soft cry erupting from his lips. Pulling her hand free, she snagged his boxers down to the floor, releasing him. She was already wet for him, but she returned her attention to that spot with her fingers, making him groan and writhe, twisting on the balls of his feet.

He took both her hands and pulled her back to the bed. He lay on his back, pulling her flat on top of him. She stayed that way for a moment, gripping his shoulders for leverage and shifting only her hips, loving the heat from his rigid pole under her soft belly.

Ric coasted his palms across her back, running his thumbs up and down her spine. She pushed back until his thigh pressed between her legs and moaned at the feel of all that warm, rigid muscle against her swelling clit.

She wanted to ride him.

Annalesa knelt up and pressed herself against the head of his cock, moving her hips in tiny circles.

“Oh... God!” His eyes rolled up as she slipped her fingers beneath the heavy length of his cock, lifting him against the wet crotch of her panties. His hands moved so fast, she didn’t know he’d torn her panties off until he tossed them.

His hands closed around her hips and she sank down onto him, taking him whole in one go, making his hips buck up beneath her as she tensed everything inside.

Annalesa leaned forward, putting all her weight into the grip she had on his wrists, pinning them to either side of him. Her hands couldn’t even wrap all the way around them, but she held him there.

And then she fucked him, hard, releasing all the anger of being kept on a knife’s edge of anxiety, reveling in the freedom of the new start they were on the verge of.

And he let her do that for a while, watching her with big, hungry eyes.

Then he started slamming his hips up in time, matching her rhythm. He put full power into his thrusts, making her feel deliciously tender inside. Each time she sank down, her clit grazed his pubic bone, and that made her even wetter.

Finally, he grabbed her hips—he’d only been letting her pin him to the bed. He escaped her hold in an instant. His hands guided her, rocking her back and forth on his cock now. He felt huge inside her like this and she cried out, hands on his chest to steady herself. He gave a low, guttural cry when her fingers grazed his nipples.

“Don’t do that,” he gasped.

“Why?”

“You’ll make me come.”

Annalesa squeezed his nipples between thumb and finger and he roared, every muscle in his arms and shoulders standing out as he pumped up into her. He came in a rutting series of jerks, the hot flush of his cum so deep inside her ratcheting up her own lust.

She didn’t stop, pumping hard and fast, making him moan beneath her as she approached her own climax. He grabbed her wrists, pulling her down into a long, moaning kiss as she ground her clit against his pubic bone.

Then his hands were on her ass, grinding her against him with all of his strength, a sensation she couldn’t even begin to comprehend, let alone describe. Her whole body seized as the pleasure of being fucked so hard pushed her to her peak.

As soon as she began to climax, Ric’s big, warm palms closed over her breasts. His little fingers stroked her sides as her nipples pressed hard into his palms. The sensation was so intense she screamed, throwing her head back as she came, her juices releasing in a rush that made Ric gasp.

The force of her orgasm left her wobbly and deliciously exhausted. She lowered herself onto his chest with Ric still inside.

She was sleepy by the time he gently pulled out and slotted himself behind her, scooping her against his front as he had done when they’d gone to bed a couple of hours ago.

This time he’d scooted down lower, his face against her neck instead of her head tucked beneath his chin. She could tell he wasn’t sleeping. He was absolutely still, but his breathing was too irregular. His lips brushed a bare spot at the back of her shoulder and he pressed his face against her.

That’s when she felt the tickle of moisture transferred from his cheek to her skin.
Tears.
He was crying silently. Part of her wanted to turn and take him into her arms, ask him if he was okay—but she knew he was trying to keep silent. Pride, maybe. She’d let him keep it.

But she had to do something. So she reached back and gently stroked his thigh, giving it a light squeeze, before she drifted off to sleep.

Annalesa switched down the treadmill to two miles an hour at the end of her run, glowing not just with sweat but pride. She’d racked up three miles in twenty-six minutes without wanting to fall off the machine and die. That was something.

After cooling down, she pulled the power-cord and held onto the balance bar while stepping off the machine. Her first week at the gym, she’d just yanked the stop-cord and marched right off the machine. Big mistake.

The next thing she knew, two big, brawny gym instructors—who acted like she’d broken all her limbs at the same time—were helping her off the floor. It took a lot of effort to keep them calling 112.

But that was six weeks ago, and she was beginning to live it down. The guys no longer hovered anxiously whenever she handled heavy weights, either.

She smiled at one of the instructors as she headed for the floor mats to do the last part of her workout—the core exercise set. It was her least favorite part of her routine as it mostly involved four agonizing versions of ‘the plank’, but she had music to make things go faster.

She was doing way better at them now, and still had feeling in her abs and arms when she finished off her final set of balance ball crunches. Annalesa stretched, flicked the sweat towel over her shoulder and grabbed her water bottle so she could hit the showers.

She loved her new gym. The vulnerability she’d felt for the first few days after the Ryan incident had mostly melted away. She’d progressed from morning jogs to Ric’s full work-out plan, and in a couple of weeks, she’d be starting one-on-one boxercise sessions as well.

Down in the changing rooms, she dumped her water bottle in the ‘empties’ basket, and chucked her sweat-towel down the chute. She caught sight of herself in the mirrors as she headed for her locker—right at the back, next to the showers—and for a moment didn’t really recognize herself. Her tone and shape were much improved.

She punched her locker combination into the keypad and stripped, cramming her gym gear back into her bag before locking up again and reaching for one of the complimentary towels stacked up by the shower room.

She caught her reflection again as she wrapped the towel around herself, wondering how vain it was to enjoy looking at the girl in the mirror, knowing it was her. Her collar bones were clearly defined, and the small muscles in her shoulders slid under the skin as she bunched and relaxed them.

She couldn’t hear anything in the changing rooms but the piped-in music. A quick glance around assured her she was alone, and she let the towel drop so she could see the results of all her hard work.

Full frontal, she was really happy. Her arms were toned, and her bust had risen as her pecs had gotten stronger. With the higher bust and the much stronger ab muscles, her body seemed longer—which made her look taller.

Best of all, the tiny belly she’d learned to disguise was gone and all those twisting exercises meant she had a nice little dip in her waist, giving her more of an hourglass shape.

From the side, things were even better. There was now a significant gap between her bust and waist size, and as she brought her arm up to wave, nothing wobbled.

She knew what Ric made of her evolving figure. She’d sent him photos every week, taken in a cropped tank and jeans—in case anyone got a hold of his phone—and his responses had become less restrained, far less brotherly.

The final one simply read
‘You’re driving me nuts!’

As great as his reactions were, the best thing was feeling so much better about herself. Fit. Strong. Ready for anything. She’d never taken fitness seriously before—she’d always had a ‘normal’ sort of body, not fat, but a little soft around the middle. Since Ric took it so seriously, she’d decided to give it a try. The benefits were, so far, definitely outweighing the bad points.

Grinning, she hit the showers.

The shampoo and conditioner provided were luxurious. She pressed her face up into the spray and rinsed, loving the feel of liquid silk between her fingers as she detangled.

The gym was fantastic, she’d decided. Yeah, it was expensive, but super-close to her apartment and it provided everything in work-out gear. She was home fifteen-minutes later—dressing included—but she could’ve made it in ten if she hadn’t indulged herself in a moment of childish joy kicking through a piles of autumn leaves.

Once back home, she switched on the Senseo coffee machine and turned her phone back on. It was one of the great things about being on more relaxed terms with Ric—she no longer felt the need to carry it everywhere and respond to all his messages as soon as possible.

He didn’t reply to things right away, so she didn’t either. She’d kept him waiting a full day once before responding to something, and the earth had not cracked open. His reply to her belated message was as friendly as ever. Things felt more balanced between them now. More equal. Her phone buzzed like a trapped wasp as email, Facebook and text message notifications bombarded her screen.

She dealt with David’s email messages first, delighted to see that he’d closed the deal on the apartment block purchase for a four-story Victorian building in the 16
th
Arrondissement. She sent back effusive thanks for all his hard work and made a calendar note to go online and find tickets for one of the bands he kept raving on about to surprise him.

She had one text from Ric, and for a moment, it startled her.

I’m going to kill Elsa.

No winky, no smiley, no context. She blinked, not quite knowing where to start with that, but then another text came through.

Not really. But I might lock her up and swallow the key.

That was a little less sinister. Annalesa fired back a response.
Why?

Waiting for an explanation, she booted up her laptop and opened her contacts folder. She wanted to make a sub-list of all the contractors who’d turned out to be reliable and a good value in their work on the first property she’d bought, so she could get them to do a quote for the second building—and her gallery. Some of the guys on David’s initial list had been a complete bust. Contractors were very hit-and-miss it seemed.

Her phone buzzed and she grinned down at the incoming text from Ric.

Dad’s bought out what’s left of Jon Church’s firm. Jon and Marie are looking at homes in Bergen and Elsa’s come out here to help them find something.

Well, that was nice. Wasn’t it? Annalesa shrugged.

This doesn’t explain why you’re plotting Elsa’s doom.

She needs doom because Jon and Marie brought grand-baby Church with them, and Elsa just dumped him in my lap! AT WORK! An hour before a meeting!

Annalesa suspected Elsa was trying to evolve his soft side to counter-balance Arensen’s ongoing warrior influence.

Aww, cute!

Not cute, Inconvenient! I’m expected to watch him and give him dinner. Hell, I’ll see what Henrik’s up to. Delegation. That’s the ticket.

Giggling, she went to turn the coffee machine back on, having forgotten all about it, and when she sat back down with fresh coffee, she had another message.

Will you come to Bergen?

She smiled, liking the idea of seeing the Rykers’ Norwegian family home again. She’d stayed at the Trondheim apartment near the Ryker Arms compound a couple of times when she was in her early teens, but the place had a stark, masculine, under-decorated feel about it. She’d never felt relaxed there, whereas the Bergen House was more like a three-up, four-down Scandinavian palace overlooking the Fjord. Just standing on the back deck with the wind in her hair made her feel like a shield maiden.
And she couldn’t wait to see Ric—especially now she was
looking
more like shield maiden.

Name your dates,
she texted back.

Knowing he probably wouldn’t get back in touch until he’d actually made all the arrangements, she put her phone to one side and opened her to-do list for the gallery. She’d had the property fully surveyed, but needed to get the heating and insulation installed.

Ten minutes on Google and four calls got her the name of a guy who’d worked in other galleries. Another two calls later, she’d arranged for her friend at the Louvre to do a walk-through of the property and give her a list of environmental controls. She rubbed her hands gleefully, glowing at the way it all seemed to be coming together.

Feeling too lazy to cook, she grabbed her jacket and got dinner from the deli three doors down—a Greek salad with a stack of blinis and a pot of red pepper and goat cheese tapenade. By the time she’d gone back upstairs and had finished eating, Ric’s email had come through.

The usual paperwork was attached for her to print out, and it looked like she’d be with him for quite a few days. At the bottom of the email, he’d written ‘itinerary classified—no questions!’ Weirdly, she didn’t feel too nervous. Before she could reply, he’d texted again.

Details get to you?

Yeah, I’ll clear the dates. Can’t wait! And no, no questions. See? This is me not asking questions. To prove it, I’ll ask you a really innocent one.

There was a pause.
Yeees?

She chuckled at his wary response.
How was dinner with baby Church?

Mostly airborne :( Two shirts in the trash right now.

What happened to Henrik helping out?

Henrik is as intelligent as he is insubordinate. He ran away the moment I explained his ‘mission’.

Annalesa laughed until her ribs hurt at the thought of Ric trying to play alpha male with a wide-eyed baby entirely resistant to instructions or authority. Then it occurred to her that she might get sucked into baby-care during her visit, which wiped the smile right off her face.

This ‘classified itinerary’... does it involve Baby Church?

No way. I can promise you that.

Okay, so that was something. She tried to get him to open up a little.

Can I have a hint? Just a little one? So I can pack the right stuff?

Fine—ONE hint. It’s for my birthday. And pack light. I’ll handle all the clothing at this end.

Yes! Maybe that meant no clothing at all!

Then she frowned, texting,
Your birthday’s in March!

Yep.

It’s September. That’s as far from March as you can get. Are we operating off some kind of unique Ricardian calendar? Or is this like a belated thing? Or a birthday in advance because you know you’ll be away for the next one? And are you planning another of your surprises?

Hey, what happened to no questions? ;)

She grinned at his playfulness and put her work stuff away, determined to catch up on some of her TV watching to take her mind off fantasies about peeling thermal layers off him. Four episodes of
Blue Bloods
later, both her brain and TV set threatened to go into idle mode and she turned it off. She checked her phone before going to bed, and saw another message from Ric.