Stepbrother Backstage (The Hawthorne Brothers Book 3) (24 page)

“I promise it’s cooler than it sounds,” I say, palming my
new glass. “I basically just throw awesome parties for rich companies and get
paid for it.”

I notice that his body has edged a bit closer to mine. I can
feel the heat coming off his skin, radiating against me. What would it be like
to feel that warmth everywhere? To be encompassed by him. Swallowed up…

“That does sound cooler. For a city girl like you, that is,”
he grins, snapping my attention back to the present. “I’m not sure I’d be any
good at it.”

“City girl?!” I exclaim, giving him a playful shove…which
may or may not just be an excuse to lay my hands on that rock hard bicep of
his. My fingers come away practically aching for more.

“Well, aren’t you?” he shoots back, letting his arm rest
casually on the back of my bar stool. I can feel myself getting more
intoxicated by the second with the closeness of him. That plus the whiskey has
me feeling more awake, more engaged than I have in…years. With a man, at least.
And that’s counting the months-long relationship I just got out of. I can
barely even conjure up an image of Paul, with this guy sitting in front of me.
He’s like an eclipse, blocking out everything but himself in my eyes.

“I mean, I’m technically a city girl. Presently,” I smile at
him, “I’ve been living in Seattle since I finished college. But I grew up with
my family in Vermont.”

“A city girl
and
a dirty hippie then,” Cash says,
shaking his head, “Man, I sure know how to pick ‘em.”

“You’ve picked me, huh?” I reply, my voice dipping low in my
chest. “Picked me for what, exactly?”

Cash’s eyes flick up to meet mine before traveling down
along the length of my body. “From the way you’re talking,” he says, his own
voice going ragged around the edges with something that sounds a whole lot like
want, “It sounds like you’ve already got something in mind for us.”

“What, me?” I say with a grin, “I thought I was just a sweet
little girl.”

“I thought so too,” he says, letting his fingers trail down
my arm, “But I’m not afraid to admit when I get it wrong.”

A long, charged moment unfolds between us, and my eyes flick
down to his full lips. My head is swimming with wanting to taste him, but I
can’t tell whether he’s going to kiss me or not. Finally, the pressure gets to
me, and I break away to drain the rest of my glass.

“How about a couple beers?” I suggest.

“Sounds good to me,” Cash says, slipping an arm around my
waist. “Real good.”

Cash and I go on talking into the night, letting our
conversation wander wherever it likes. He tells me about the motorcycle repair
shop he owns nearby, the boxing gym he frequents in his free time, his love of
MMA and UFC. I, in turn, tell him more about the outrageous events I’ve
produced for work, my love of good coffee and literature, my inextinguishable
hiking habit that’s only grown stronger since moving to the Pacific Northwest.

We’re like two old friends who haven’t seen each other in
years. Well, two old friends who also would quite like to jump each others’
bones, that is. At least, that’s the vibe I’m getting from him. Could I be
wrong? I’ve never been very good at telling whether a guy is interested in me
or not. I usually need someone—i.e. Allie—to tell me when a dude is into me.
I’m just in the middle of a story about me and Allie in college when my loose
tongue gets the better of me.

“We were actually just hanging out earlier, me and Allie,” I
tell Cash, my knee brushing up against his as we commune over our beers, “I
swear, she’s like the little devil sitting on my shoulder, except my angel
always seems to be on a smoke break. She got me to agree to the most ridiculous
bet…”

“Oh yeah? What’s the bet?” Cash asks, a loose brown curl
tumbling across his forehead.

I clap both hands over my mouth, eyes going wide. “Oh nooo,”
I laugh, “No, no, no. I’m not telling.”

“Come on,” he presses, tugging me just a little closer,
“Tell me what the bet is, Porter.”

“No, no. I can’t,” I insist, busying myself with another
gulp of beer, “You’ll think it’s absolutely pathetic.”

“Well, now you
have
to tell me,” he grins. “I’ll be
the judge whether or not it’s pathetic.”

I throw up my hands, just tipsy enough to no longer give a
shit. It’s not like I’m ever going to see this guy again after tonight, right?

“Fine,” I say, looking him square in the eye, “Allie bet me
that I couldn’t bring myself to have one random hookup before my vacation is
over.”

Cash stares at me. “That’s it?” he asks.

“Well, yeah,” I tell him.

A roar of laughter rises out of him, “How is that something
you even have to bet on?” he crows, “I say it doesn’t count as a vacation until
you have at least one random hookup!”

“Well ex
cuse
me,” I shoot back, “Looks like one of us
is a lot more prone to one night stands than the other.”

“What’s wrong with one night stands?” Cash asks, setting his
empty beer bottle down on the bar.

“Nothing… in theory,” I mutter, suddenly bashful. I barely
know this guy, but I already feel like there’s nothing I can hide from him.

“Wait, wait,” Cash says, spinning my bar stool around to
face his. “You
have
had a one night stand before, haven’t you?” His face
is mere inches from mine now, our legs interlocked between us. Between my buzz
and his proximity to me, I can barely put one word in front of another. But in
the end, I don’t have to. He can read the answer on my face, plain as day.

“You haven’t…” he goes on, an expression of amazement so
overwhelming, that it looks painful coming across his face.

“Got me,” I smile timidly. He leans back in his seat, just
looking at me. Self-consciousness washes over me, forcing me to avert my gaze.
“That doesn’t make me a zoo animal, so you can quit staring,” I mutter.

“Sorry. My bad,” he says, “I just can’t quite believe it.”

“No?” I reply, all stocked up on liquid courage. “Why’s
that?”

“Because you must have your pick of the litter, where guys
are concerned,” he says simply, “I mean…look at you.”

“Well, you would know what that’s like, huh?” I reply, so
pleased by the compliment that I don’t even mind blowing my spot.

“What, you like what you see?” he grins, pretending to
strike a pose for me.

“Obviously,” I laugh, resting my hand on his knee without
thinking…but definitely not rushing to move it anytime soon.

“So we agree about one thing,” he murmurs contemplatively,
letting his hand fall on top of mine, “We each think the other is sexy as
hell.”

“Is that what I said?!” I laugh, blushing.

“I may have embellished a little,” he replies, “But even
though we’re both attracted to each other, one of us is a lot more prone to one
night stands than the other, right? What to do…”

I feel my pulse quicken as he rubs his thumb against my
hand. Joking around about random hookups is one thing…but the fact remains that
I’ve never done anything like that before. I don’t have anything against
sleeping with someone outside of a relationship, but I also don’t know anything
about this guy. Other than the fact that the mere pressure of his hand against
mine is making me clench my thighs together, as pulses of desire ripple up
through my body.

“Wouldn’t that be something, if I knocked out my bet on the
first night…” I say, trying to sound breezy. But the raging lust twisting my
core rings out loud and clear through my voice.

“Is that what you want?” Cash asks, leaning into me as his
hand moves slowly higher on my thigh.

“I…Well…” I stammer, savoring the feel of his fingers
brushing against my thigh through the denim.

“You’re blushing,” he tells me, eyes gleaming with serious
want. Up and up his hand strays, moving closer to that throbbing place between
my legs. I have to swallow hard to keep from moaning, his hands feel so good on
me.

“No kidding, I’m blushing,” I breathe, “How are you not?”

“I’m just better at hiding it than you,” he smiles. But he sets
all joking aside the very next moment, stilling his hand just before it brushes
against my sex. “Listen Maddie,” he goes on, “I know we’ve been kidding around
all night, but if you’re not into this, or you’ve had too much to drink, or—”

“I haven’t,” I say hurriedly, “I mean, I am…into it.”

“I need you to be one hundred percent sure,” he says firmly,
lifting his hands away from my body, “Especially if you’ve never had a one-off
before. Hell, I’m not even sure if you could handle me, even just for a night.”

I laugh, though my body is crying out for his touch. “I’m
pretty sure I’d be able to handle you just fine, Hawthorne.”

“Maybe,” he shrugs, turning slightly away from me. “But I’m
telling you right now, pretty sure isn’t gonna cut it for me.”

He’s giving me an out. I can get up and walk away right now
if I want to, no strings, no hard feelings. And every other day of my life
leading up to this, with every other guy I’ve ever met, that’s exactly what I’d
do. But today, Cash is sitting in front of me. His scruffy, cut jaw pulsing as
he bites back his want of me. His hazel eyes burning with both need and the
restraint of it. His strong, expert hands resting resolutely on his knees, when
they should be exploring every inch of me.

“Fuck it,” I mutter fiercely, taking his sculpted face in my
hands and closing the space between us.

In the second that it takes for me to bring my mouth to his,
he’s raced up to meet me in the moment. He catches my lips in his, as I open my
mouth to him. The full firmness of his lips nearly takes my breath away. I wrap
my arms behind his neck, steadying myself against him, as his tongue glides
against mine. The taste of him dances across my tongue, and I’m drunker off him
in a second, than I’ve managed to get all night. I take his bottom lip between
my teeth, biting gently down. A low, soft groan rumbles at the very core of
him, so deep that I can feel it where we connect at the mouth.

“How’s that for one hundred percent sure?” I breathe,
pulling back to train my blue eyes on him.

“Yeah. That’ll do,” he growls, his arms circling my slender
waist.

It’s only then, that I notice the catcalls rising up from
the back of the bar. The group of bikers clustered around the pool table
started cheering us on as we locked lips, and they have all kinds of dirty
suggestions as to what we should do now.

“We seem to have an audience,” I murmur.

“I’m not sure I should drive back to my place, after this
many rounds…” Cash says, gritting his teeth. “But dammit, I’ll carry you back
if I have to.”

I let my hands trail down his body, unthinking. They run
over the firm panes of his chest, the perfect line of abs, and onward.
Suddenly, I feel my fingertips brush against a staggering new development. I
glance down, eyes widening as I take in the bulging length, threatening to tear
straight through his jeans. That does it.

“I’m staying at the motel next door,” I breathe, eyes locked
on his.

“Why the hell didn’t you say so?” he breathes, his voice
husky with lust.

I stand up from my barstool, barely able to remain upright
from the throbbing between my legs. As casually as possible, I lace my fingers
through Cash’s and pull him to standing. He plays along with my nonchalance,
draping an arm across my shoulders as we turn to go. As the bikers start
roaring their approval, we glance in unison over our shoulders and each give
them the finger with our free hands. Our synchronized bird-flipping makes us
whip around to face each other, smiling like a couple of lunatics. If our
bodies are already this synced up, that bodes pretty well for the rest of the
evening.

The second the bar door swings shut behind us, Cash’s
powerful hands grab hold of my hips. He swings me around and presses me up
against the brick wall of the bar, kissing me hard as he holds me pinned there.
I gasp as he shifts his hips, letting me feel his rigid cock right against my
aching slit. Our tongues tangle as I bury my fingers in his thick, dark curls.
The brick is rough against my bare shoulders, but I couldn’t give less of a
damn.

“Goddammit…”
Cash rasps,
brushing a lock of hair away from my face as he looks down at me in the red
neon light. “I’ve wanted to do that from the second I laid eyes on you.”

“Really?” I breathe, “Could’ve fooled me.”

“Like I said, I know how to hide things better than you,” he
smiles, running his hands down my sides as he brings his lips to my neck.

I let my head fall back against the brick as he kisses
deeply along my throat, dizzy with needing to feel more of him.

“Come on, Hawthorne,” I urge with a grin, breaking away
across the gravel, “Before the crazy motel biddy sees us.”

“I’m not even gonna ask what the hell you’re talking about,”
Cash says, taking off after me across the lot.

I dash out ahead of him, feeling for the world like I’m
sixteen years old again. How can something so illicit feel so light, so easy?
Cash catches up to me in no time, ducking down and scooping me into a fireman’s
carry.

“Cash!” I cry out, “What—?”

“Army training. What can I tell you?” he laughs, racing
toward the motel. “This pretty damn near feels like a life or death situation,
after all…”

He skids to a stop just outside my door and sets me upright
as I fumble for my keycard. I can barely get the thing in, my hands are
trembling so hard. But the second that lock clicks open, we tumble through the
doorway and slam it shut on the rest of the world. Our hands find each other’s
bodies in the near pitch-blackness, lifting off layers of clothing as we
stagger across the unfamiliar room.

I feel my feet go out from under me as I trip over my huge
suitcase. The bed rises up to meet me as I fall, bringing Cash down on top of
me. We laugh through kissing at the slapstick moment, but soon the only sound I
can make is a low, shuddering moan. I fall back against the mattress, wearing
nothing but my panties as Cash kneels over me. That same neon glow flashes
against his bare skin, illuminating every perfectly cut muscle. Every line of
ink. And as he tugs down his black briefs, I finally catch a glimpse of his staggering,
irresistible cock.