ROMANCE: BIKER ROMANCE: Valentine Biker (MC Alpha Male Pregnancy Romance) (New Adult Valentine Romance Short Stories) (116 page)

GIANNA

A Stepbrother Romance

By

Aubrey James

CHAPTER ONE

“Gianna, you have to!  When a hot guy orders you a shot, you have to take it,” the petite blonde Hitler named Krista ordered her.  Gianna sucked in a breath, and quickly threw back the questionable amber liquid.  It burned fire down her throat, but at least tasted like regular rum.  Although, after the dozen shots prior, she wasn’t sure she even had taste buds left.

Krista squealed and grabbed her arm.  “He’s watching you!”

Desperately hoping she wasn’t referring to the fifty-something tattooed gentleman that kept reappearing behind her, she slowly turned her head back towards the pool tables that Krista had nodded at. 

She quickly saw the beefy rugby player that she had been flirting with earlier.  She squinted at him, trying to pull everything back into focus.  All she could really see for certain was a crew cut, a nondescript face, and big shoulders.  Mentally shrugging, she admitted that he wasn’t bad looking.

“He’s kind of cute,” she acquiesced.

“He’s more than cute – he’s hot!  And Brandon says that he’s been on the lookout since he got dumped by Brandy after she decided to transfer to Minnesota.”  Krista seemed strangely excited that Rugby just had his heart torn out by some cheerleader with ambitious goals.

She made a motion to grab her mixed drink off the bar and head over.  At the same time, the guy she had been sitting next to went to grab his drink, and somehow they collided, tipping over both drinks on the lacquered bar top.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so s-sorry!”  Her mouth stumbling over the last word, Gianna looked into the most beautiful blue eyes she’d ever seen on a man.  They weren’t truly blue, she realized in the dim bar light.  They were actually like a turquoise.  Maybe a teal?  Whatever it was, she was instantly jealous.  Guys didn’t deserve eyes like those.

The undeserving hunk flashed her a white smile that just deepened the jealousy.  “Nah, it was my fault.  Richie over here  --“ pulling the guys collar that was sitting on his left at the bar in mock outrage – “just can’t hold his liquor.”

Richie seemed to be completely oblivious, still arguing with the bartender about whether or not that last play shouldn’t have been a foul.  His friend seemed to realize this, tossing her a sheepish smile.

“Here, let me buy you another.”  He stood, reached into his dark jeans, and pulled out a brown leather wallet.  He tossed down a twenty.  “What are you drinking?”

“Amaretto Sour.”

“Sounds good.  I’ll just get you that lemonade with a dash of amaretto then.”  He threw her a wink and she bit back a laugh.

“Hey, why fight it when you know it tastes so good?”  She threw him his wink right back and this time he threw his head back and laughed out loud.

“So, what you’re telling me is that I should be switching my drink of choice to that?  I’m pretty sure I haven’t had a drink that weak since I was fourteen and watered down my dad’s scotch,” he teased, quirking an attractively dark eyebrow.

This time she did laugh out loud.  “I’d like to see you try to keep down all the shots I’ve had to take tonight, while drinking an ‘actual’ drink, sir!”

He caught the bartender’s gaze and motioned at their two spilled drinks, and then the twenty on the counter.  He turned back towards her, this time leaning closer to talk into her ear.  It wasn’t really that loud, but when she got a whiff of his cologne and nearly started panting, she decided not to call him out on it.  “What’s the occasion?”

“Got the internship I’ve been wanting for like two years.  You?”

“Promoted.  And my friend here just got broken up with.  You single?”  He threw a glance over to Richie.  She pretended to study Richie dutifully.  He really wasn’t bad looking, more of a rocker type look.  But then again, her mystery man also had a sense of ‘bad boy’ about him.  They both had tattoos on their arms, but Richie had them all the way down to his knuckles.  Both of them had gauges in their ears, but Richie’s were at least double the size.  He was laughing at something the girl next to him and she saw the flash of a tongue ring.

“Hmmm, well he does have good hair,” she critiqued.

He laughed.  “He does indeed.  Carson, by the way.” 

He took her offered hand in his warm grip.  His hand seemed to dwarf hers, and her fingertips tingled with the contact.  “Gianna.”

Looking at her warmly, he repeated it to her.  “Gianna.  I like that.  It suits you.”

She blushed, hoping in the ambient light he didn’t see it.

“Carson, we gotta go man!”  Richie suddenly turned towards them, eyeing up Gianna.  “Take her with!  Dave said that Green Sugar is playing at the Rowdy down the street.”

Carson looked at her, still holding her hand.  “Well?”

She glanced at Krista, who’d been suitably entertained by the bouncer sitting at the end of the bar.  “I can’t.  I’m here with the rest of my friends.”

“Alright, well then let me make an appearance over there for a few minutes, and then I’ll come back here.  Don’t.  Move.”  He placed his hand on the loops of her black skinny jeans and pushed her gently down onto the bar stool.  She could feel the heat through the material and she suppressed the urge to lean into him.

He started to walk away, grabbed at the elbow by Richie, but his shoulders faced her until he had to turn at the last second.

Ten minutes later, Krista saw one of her mortal enemies from their Dance Appreciation class, and forced Gianna to leave the bar.  Once they got into the taxi, she ended up passing out and Gianna had to take her home and make sure she was okay.

And only a small part of her wondered what would’ve happened if she’d been able to stay.

Liar, her smug subconscious whispered. 

CHAPTER TWO

6 months later…

“Anna, be careful of Highway 23.  Steve heard it was all tore up because of that new overpass going in.”

Gianna fought to roll her eyes.  Normally her childhood nickname ‘Anna’ didn’t bother her, but something about the way her mother was warning her made her feel like she was back in high school.  She had moved back temporarily while she finished out her internship and could get a permanent position at a clinic a little farther away from home.

Steve, her new step father, looked up from his newspaper.  “Take the interstate.  Few minutes out of the way, but better road conditions.

“And don’t forget that CJ is flying in at 7:20.  We should be home around 9.  Make sure you’re around to greet him.  It’s not every day you meet your only step brother!”

Ugh.  Step brother.  What an awful thing.  He hadn’t even gotten here and he was already ruining her life.  Their parents had decided that for the limited time they were both staying here, they could share a bathroom.

“Anna…”

“Yeah, Mom.  Got it.  9 pm.  I’ll be at home for my curfew.”  Gianna gave her mom a hug to soften the sarcasm.

The day flew by and before she knew it, she was pulling up to the house at 10 pm.  She saw the silver car in the driveway and let out a curse word she didn’t even knew that she had known.  Her mom was going to flip out.

She punched the code in the garage door and jogged inside.

“Mom, I’m home.  Sorry I’m l---“

She choked on her words.  Her mom and stepdad were relaxing in the living room, in their usual spots.  But in the overstuffed chair she normally occupied, there was…him. 

The guy from the bar.  The guy that had never really left her mind and continued to haunt her dreams.  Okay, that was maybe a little overdramatic, but she had thought about him.  Carson, her mind helped.

He was just as gorgeous as the first time they’d met.  This time he was dressed simply in a white t-shirt and jeans.  The only adornment he wore were the small gauges in his ears.

“Anna, good.  You’re finally home!  Never mind that you’re an hour late, but still.  Late is better than later.”  Her mother stood and pushed her to sit down on the footrest in front of his chair.  Her chair.  “Meet your stepbrother, CJ.”

“CJ,” she muttered absently.  Not Carson then?  Her mind stumbled and tried to reconfigure itself.

“Anna,” he responded, with just a hint of annoyance.  Oh, that was great.  He was annoyed?  She was the one that now had to share her home, with his annoying cologne and his annoying turquoise eyes and his super annoying pretty face.

She couldn’t remember what all happened in the next fifteen minutes, but somehow she got through the seemingly endless rigmarole of small talk and pleasantries, both of them pretending to have not known each other.  They listened to their parents list out the things they had in common (which were few, or nonexistent), the things that would now change, and the new rules of the house.  Obviously everyone was to remain clothed.  Her stepfather paid special attention to this one for Carson/CJ, so she supposed he had a habit about walking around naked. 

Her brain mentally shrugged.  If she looked that good, yeah, she’d probably never wear clothes again.

She agreed to the rest of the rules, glad that they didn’t really alter her existence except for sharing a bathroom and a floor.  Their parents didn’t seem to catch the lingering tension, the sexual frustration that was fairly tingling in the room.

At some point, she was able to draw herself away and head upstairs to the sanctity of her room.  Breathing in a huge sigh,   her mind whirled with all that this meant.  They were related, step brother and step sister.  She could no longer think about him in that way.

In what way, her mind questioned, running through her foggy brain all the positions, situations, and various degrees of undress that she’d already through about him since the moment she met him.

This was not good, she thought.

Carson’s mind still reeled.  Gianna was here.  In this house.  Upstairs, as a matter of fact.  Anna, he reminded himself.  Though he had no idea why her mother would prefer such a common name when she had such a beautiful one.  With his friends, he simply referred to her as “G”.  He had never wanted to give them evidence such a beautiful person existed by giving them such an exotic first name.  Although, he supposed some part of him had never really been sure if she’d really existed.  That night had been a blur.  And she had left.

He had waited around until bar time that night.  And several nights after that, just to see if she’d come back.  He’d never felt such an instant attraction, both to her body and to what he had felt in her soul.  She was something special, he was sure of that.

And now she was his stepsister.  Fate had been very cruel indeed.

The next morning they managed to miss each other completely.  He heard her get up much earlier than he would’ve expected, leave out the front door, and return only an hour later.  He assumed she must’ve went on a run.  He made a mental note of that fact, adding to the list of things he already liked about her.

He stayed in his room until he was sure she had left for her internship.  His job afforded him a lot of perks, one of which being that he got to choose his own hours and sometimes could work from home.

Hours turned into days which turned into weeks.  It was over a month letter when their parents announced they would be taking a family vacation.  Much to their chagrin, both Carson and Gianna resisted – Gianna for her internship and Carson because a cruise seemed like hell on a person who got disturbingly seasick.  Their parents looked at each other and seemed to give up the fight so fast he wondered if that’s what they had planned the whole time.

They packed and flew out a week after that, with strict house rules against drugs and strippers being in their house while they were away.  Carson had to admire them for that.  At least they’d finally realized the two of them were no longer teenagers.  They were of legal drinking age, beyond that even. 

Carson knew that his time was limited to a couple weeks left and he’d heard Gianna making plans of her own to move into a house with some friends.  He did feel bad that he seemed to be pushing her faster than she wanted to leave.  Her mother had mentioned that her plan was to stay at home the duration of the internship, which was another eight months.

That night, he noticed that she stayed out until bar time.  He had gone out for a few drinks himself but made it back a good hour before she had.

Around three, he heard a key scratching at the lock and laughter coming from outside his window.  He looked down and saw that she was struggling to get in the front door, and that a guy was pressed up close behind her.  Very close.  His fists started to clench and he forced himself to relax. 

She had every right to bring a guy home.  She was a grown woman, living in her parent’s house.  And when the parents are away, well, it made sense.

So he had resigned himself to a sleepless night, tortured by her moans with another man, but instead a few minutes later he heard raised voices again coming from outside.

“Brandon, I said stop it.”  He recognized her voice was strained, but still seemed pretty normal.  Maybe she was just teasing him?

The man murmured something in her ear, and nuzzled her.  Carson felt sick just watching it.  He couldn’t see her face, but she didn’t respond.

When the guy started to run hands along her body, she resisted.  “Brandon, I mean it.  I’m tired, and you’re drunk.”

This dude was not taking the hint.  He continued to feel her up, even pressing her against the doorway.  When Gianna started to struggled, he was already throwing on a pair of shorts.  When he saw the guy raise her arm in captivity and grind himself against her, he tore across the hallway and down the steps.  He threw open the deadbolt and pulled the door option in one motion.

He ripped the guy off her and shoved him until he fell down the three concrete front steps.  He landed hard and gracelessly.  Instead of letting him gain his footing, Carson fell on him with three hard punches to the face and one to the solar plexus when he fought to stand.  He gave him a solid kick that had Brandon groaning.  He heard Gianna calling from somewhere behind him, but didn’t register her existence until she started to pull on his arm.

“Carson, it’s fine.  He’s not even worth it.  I’m fine.  I’m okay.  I’m fine,” she kept repeating, soothing him with her low toned voice and her warm touch at his elbow.

Brandon just moaned on the ground.  Carson gave him a half hearted kick, then grabbed his collar and pulled him up until his face was inches away.  “Do not ever touch her again.  In fact, don’t even look at her, you piece of shit.”

Gianna heard his words and was stunned to hear the emotion and warning dripping from his tone.  The Carson she had seen over the past few weeks was definitely not a man of emotion.  He didn’t let anything get to him.  He was a laissez-faire type personality.  This new side of him was dangerous, and sexy as hell.

Step brother, her subconscious reminded her.  He was off limits.  Definitely off limits.

She tugged at him again, this time successfully disengaged the two alpha males.  She let Brandon lie there in pain without offer to help.  He was a jerk, and Gianna would’ve been forced to drastic measures had Carson not come down here.

She pulled Carson inside the front door, and threw the latch.  She tugged him up the stairs while he was in some sort of a daze.  She kept pulling until she got him into their bathroom.  She did a quick recount on his injuries, but short of his bruised and blood stained knuckles, she didn’t think Brandon had even landed a punch.  He still seemed phased out though, so she decided serious measures needed to be taken.

She pushed him, clothes and all, into the shower and then turned it on.  He didn’t say anything, just shivered and looked back at her.  A few minutes later, she took pity on him, and turned the dial to warm.  The steam started to rise and both their faces grew flush.

“Are you okay,” he asked softly, eyes searching hers.

“Carson, I’m fine.  Really,” she urged him.  This new version of Carson was throwing her off her game.  She had never expected such fire out of him.  And she didn’t know why she had brought it out in him.  Was it possible he felt this connection too?

“G, if I hadn’t been there…”  His eyes lost focus and she knew he was recognizing all the things that could’ve happened to a female of her size with a guy like Brandon.  She placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed gently, the water streaming down her arms and pooling on the tiled floor.

“Hey, don’t even think about that.  You were here.  Everything is fine.  I would’ve fought back, but I’m glad I had you there to do it for me.”  She smiled, “My knuckles wouldn’t have held up as well as yours did.”

Carson let out a choked laugh and looked down at the knuckles in question.  She knew he saw what she saw – the soft skin with squared pink nails.  Definitely not the hands of the bruiser that he had just proved to be.

They both stood there for what seemed like forever, letting the water slide onto the floor unheeded, the warmth pouring over top of him, drenching his clothes and his body.

He pulled out of it first, seeming to realize their positions.  “I’m sorry, I’m getting you all wet.”

They both froze with the unintended sexual reference.  They stuttered over top of each other, while Gianna pulled away and got him a towel.  He exited the shower in a graceful leap over the pooled water, throwing the extra towel on top of it to soak up the excess.

Gianna walked away, shaken and disturbed, and not in anyway because of Brandon.  She walked back to her room.  She kicked the door closed, hoping that Carson wouldn’t follow her through because at this point, she didn’t think she had the willpower to say no.

When she heard his footsteps travel down the hallway into his room, she let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.  And yet, an odd, deeply disturbed, part of her had wished that he would come in.  Anything to realize this tension that felt like her whole body was tied in knots every time he came near.

She pulled off the wine colored silk camisole top she had been wearing, and peeled off the skintight black denim.  Throwing her jewelry on the table, she headed over to her walk-in closet.  There were a group of shirts hanging on the wire racks, waiting to be put back.  She had put away all but the last one.  When she reached for it, she realized in an instant it wasn’t hers.  She didn’t wear tee shirts, not this big, and not this worn.

She pulled it out and looked at it in the light.  It definitely wasn’t her step fathers, so it had to be his.  She brought it close to her face and breathed in.  Even through the detergent smell, she could still detect his cologne.  She groaned.  It wasn’t fair that he had to be so good looking and smell so damn good.

Making a rash decision that was undoubtedly stupid, she threw his tee shirt on over her black lace bra and panties.  It came down to her upper thighs, and she wrapped her arms around herself, trapping in his scent.

She climbed into her bed, pulling the covers up to her chin.  Partly because of the alcohol, but more because of thoughts of him, she knew she was in for a sleepless night.  Sure enough, every time she tossed and turned, she got puffs of cologne from his tee shirt.  It tormented and aroused her until all she could think about was his body in the shirt.