Stepbrother UnSEALed (6 page)

“Don't. I didn't mean to sneak up on you, babe, but we gotta talk. Roll over.”

He doesn't ask me again. He keeps his hand tight across my mouth as he crashes into bed next to me, pulling me tight to his chest. His palm doesn't leave my lips until he feels my mouth completely shut.

As soon as he lets me go, I rip myself away and jump out of bed, staring at him in disbelief. The door's wide open now, and so is the screen.

“What the hell are you doing!?” It's a struggle to keep my voice low.

I watch him put a stern finger over his lips, and that infuriates me even more.

I want to scream bloody murder. Instead, I stomp over to the door he's just slipped through, and take a quick look out before shutting the screen.

“Seriously, what did you do? Climb a tree? Jump to my balcony from yours? Jesus, we're like twenty or thirty feet off the ground!”

He gives me a blank look and shrugs. “I had to talk to you after what happened down there tonight. Come sit,
sis.
”

His big hand pats the empty spot next to him. Snorting, I shake my head, feeling a strange rush of heat as the last word echoes in my ear. I'm not sure if
sis
is supposed to piss me off with its sarcasm, or remind me there's something broken in my head.

Crap. We really are brother and sister now, but it's not like it stops me from wanting to climb into his lap, spread my hands on his chest, and find out how tight he'll stretch me once he sinks between my legs.

The fire surging through my veins isn't just anger, even though it should be. It's what we had last night, the strange, contradictory need to feel this asshole's lips on mine.

This isn't me. I'm supposed to be the good girl, the level headed one, the
magna cum laude
career woman in the making. I never thought I'd be sweet talked by hard muscles, tattoos, and confidence bordering on insanity, but here I am.

Here
he
is, laying in my bed, doing – what, exactly?

I push away from him. I have to get his hands off me, clear my head.

“What do we have to talk about?” I sigh angrily. “Neither of us can change this. We screwed up last night, and now things are going to be awkward. If only I'd known you were
that
Christopher. My new stepbrother Christopher, instead of just a beach bum sharing the same name.”

“Ah, fuck.” He sits up, smiling and shaking his head. “It's
Chris.
Mom just uses the long form bullshit to make me sound like I fit in her world. In case you hadn't noticed, I don't. No way in hell. I'm just here as a courtesy because I can't stop thinking about how sweet your little clit burned on my thumb.”

Holy shit.
His green eyes shine when he says it, and I have to look away before my panties start on fire.

I can't let him win. I can't give in. This is crazy!

“Well, we certainly don't fit together, Chris. I can't help you there. Are you seriously staying here for awhile, or are you driving back to your base once you've sobered up?” I can smell the whiskey dripping off his breath.

It's amazing he didn't fall on the concrete below and kill himself when he made the jump. Maybe he has some secret SEAL gear I don't know about. Either way, I'm glad he smells drunk. It helps bury the intoxicating masculine scent I breathed last night, dreamed about, wanted so fucking badly to smell again.

“Bullshit. You're so coy, Delia. You still want me,” he says, bowing out his chest as he pushes his arm against my mattress and pops up. “Hell yeah, you do. I'd know that look on a woman anywhere. You really didn't know last night, did you?”

What?

My lip trembles as he walks toward me, and there's nowhere to run before his arms are around me again. “I don't know what you're talking about. Of
course
I didn't know about you last night! Do you think I'm some kind of psycho who really wants to fuck her own stepbrother?”

He chuckles, rich and smoky, vibrating through my body. “You tell me. Are you?”

His hands press against my spine, shooting down, smoothing the wrinkles in my dress. He captures my ass and squeezes it, so hard and swift I gasp, inadvertently throwing my hips into his.

“Goddamn, baby. You don't know what you've got in the trunk, do you? This is an ass men jerkoff to through a whole damned tour. This ass makes boys fight twice as hard in the field, whatever it takes to get home safe and tap it again.”

Hellfire shrieks in my veins. For the next few seconds, I'm a twisting, writhing mess in his hands, resisting the urge to grind into him like we did last night.

My clit remembers what he did. It can't forget. Neither can my skin, my nipples, even the tips of my fingertips. They all remember the buzz that flowed through them as we touched, kissed, and stroked ourselves to bliss.

God, it's undeniable. My entire body wants another taste. I don't want to stop, and my hands involuntarily wrap around my neck.

His lips press to mine, crushing and hot and forbidden. I can't believe I'm kissing my stepbrother – my own fucking stepbrother!

That does it.

I jerk back, wiping his taste off, pretending I'm ten times more disgusted than I really am. His rough hands finally let go and he steps away with a growl.

“You gotta be shitting me. I really disgust you that much?”

My heart sinks. I didn't mean it like that. It was just a reaction, a reflex to get him off me, before we toppled into bed together and made the greatest mistake of our lives.

“Sorry. No, Chris, it's not like that. It's just...this is too much,” I say softly, voice cracking. “You know we can't do this. It's wrong. If only we could've been at their stupid wedding and objected when they took their vows, maybe this would all be different. But it's too late for that. We need to learn to live together without all this teasing, this fighting, this urge to...”

I can't say it. My cheeks go bright red. Adrenaline shocks my body, raw desire that
knows
exactly what's on the tip of my tongue.

“What – to fuck? Because that's what I want to do every goddamned minute I'm standing here with you. I can't keep my hands off you, babe. I'm dangerous.”

He sounds so cold. Jesus, is this what he's like when he's upset? I talk toward him cautiously, reaching for his shoulder, trying to soothe him. He's a total bastard, but maybe I hurt him more than I realized, struck something evil stirred up inside him by Evie's antics earlier tonight.

“It's going to be okay, Chris. This doesn't have to be weird or awkward. We can learn to
deal
, right? We made a big mistake last night, but it was an innocent one! Nobody knows. Nobody but you and me ever have to.”

Snarling, he shoves my arm away. It's so fast and sudden it scares me. I'm surprised it doesn't hurt. He rips the heavy balcony door open, stopping its momentum like it's nothing in his strong hand, before it crashes against the wall.

“I don't need your damned pity, and I sure as shit don't need your advice. You're right, it doesn't have to be like this. I'm getting the fuck back to base tomorrow so I don't have to stare at a chick all summer who's too afraid to fuck me. I've never had a problem getting pussy between tours. I want yours, but don't you ever think I
need
it.”

Ouch, ouch, ouch.

Every sentence bruising my ears stabs deep like hateful arrows. I can't think of anything else to say before he lets himself out.

Oh, shit. Not again! He's going to...

I rush forward, afraid he's going to slip and break his legs catapulting between our balconies. I push through the screen and call after him, but it's too late.

He's already jumped, hit the other side, and he hoists himself up. I watch his enormous body jump up over the stone banister like it's nothing. He lands safe like an Olympic gymnast, and he doesn't look back before he disappears inside his own room, completely ignoring me.

I retreat back to my bed and flop down, only after latching the balcony door this time. I want to beat the shit out of my pillow, but I don't. The noise would probably slip through our shared wall, and I can't stand the thought of the smug, broody bastard smiling at how bad he's pissed me off.

I hope to god he follows through on his threat to go back to his base. Evie setting up our summer rooms was a big fucking mistake.

After about an hour, I'm somewhere between rage and sleep, emotionally exhausted from the last twenty-four hours. My brain won't stop running through everything he's ever said to me.

The horny threats, the arrogance, the teasing, the attraction. Even the mundane details flash through my mind, everything I know about him, tiny bits and pieces. I feel like I still know nothing.

I've sworn to give Evie a chance for dad's sake, but I know she's bad news. I wonder what it was like growing up with her.

Are all his asshole, sexaholic tendencies just symptoms of the poison she's left him with?

I shake my head, trying to fit the pieces together. I shouldn't try. The best thing that can happen to us is distance – cold, clean space.

But it isn't so easy. Something about watching him go, leaving like this, shocks my heart worse than anything that's happened.

I'm worried for Chris. Worried for myself. Worried for dad.

If Evie turned him into the man he is, an ego-filled jackass who thinks he's got the world on his shoulders because he's in the SEALs, what will she do to my dad before this train wreck of a marriage withers?

Hell, how am I supposed to get anything done on my summer thesis now? Professor Thosser won't stop breathing down my neck. He's going to expect at least an outline in another two weeks, and I'm gobsmacked for ideas,
good ideas
that could make or break my whole future.

Something about the last thing Chris said echoes in my head.
I've never had a problem getting pussy between tours.

Just what was he doing overseas before coming home? Had he killed people, blown things up, watched as his own men died?

He's a rare breed. A modern day warrior living a life I can't imagine. I'm not sure why I want to, but I do.

Then it hits me. I bolt up out of bed, walk over to my desk where I've got my laptop, and open it. I search through articles, and it doesn't take long to find it.

The big raid in Kirkuk. It was all over the news in May, and we talked about it in my international politics class before the final.

US special forces took out several brutal terrorists, but they'd also gotten in the middle of an Iranian operation sneaking across the Iraqi border on their way out. Iran and the United States exchanged fire for the first time in decades. When the dust settled, there were three servicemen killed – probably SEALs – and the wreckage of several high tech gliders was revealed to the world for the first time.

It almost caused a war. A SEAL Team was definitely involved in the raid, and the military held it close to their chest, deflecting the media's attention to the war threat, which diminished after the US and Iran came to terms.

I stared at the words and maps on my screen, pushing a lump down my throat. Chris couldn't have been involved...right?

The timeline fit. So did his attitude, foul tempered and dark, assuming this wasn't just the norm for him.

My heart starts racing, and I reach up, rubbing my eyes. He'll never talk – not willingly, anyway. But I don't need to know every dirty, gritty, classified detail of what happened in the three way firefight with the terrorists and Iran.

My greedy little heart skips another beat. I feel like the biggest bitch in the world for wanting to base a paper off my asshole SEAL stepbrother, but what else am I supposed to do when the universe has dropped a goldmine in my lap? Assuming it doesn't land me in his first, I mean.

It's all right in front of me. A story that'll knock the Professor's socks off. All I have to do is dig.

I tell myself I have limits. I won't compromise his privacy or national security, no, but I can't ignore all the crazy possibilities here. I pull up a blank document and begin typing furiously, the start of my emotional study in SEAL psychology.

I'm chewing my lip, tasting the last of his kiss lingering on my skin. I need to get closer to him, have to feel whatever he's feeling in life.

We don't need to be best friends. We have to stop short of being lovers. What if I just
pretend
to like him?

Virgin or not, I know how to flirt. Marnie and my other friends always told me I was cute, and I don't think it was just his own horndog desires that nearly brought him to his knees last night.

It seems insane on the surface, yeah, but there's a chance it'll also get me what I want, what I need to finish my degree with every door in the world wide open.

A few minutes later, and it's all worked out. I'm going to apologize to Chris tomorrow and beg him to stay in our house this summer.

If I can get him to agree to that, I know it won't take much to pull more out of him. We'll play truth or dare. No, I'm not disciplined like a SEAL, but I'm confident I can control myself.

I'll smile sweetly, tell him anything he wants, maybe even make out if it gets me more, brings me deeper into his life.

I won't whore myself out. I'll stop short of doing anything crazy – he's my freaking stepbrother!

I don't care how hot he is, or how wet his filthy mouth gets me sometimes. I know I can resist.

Pushing him away tonight tells me I can keep control. I'll stop him before he goes too far. If he gets pissed and goes running to his floozies, I won't get jealous.

It's hard, but it isn't impossible. I'm on target, and a strange kinda confidence tears through my veins.

I'm going to strip  him down, turn his secrets into something beautiful to share with the world.

This bad boy and all his mysteries are mine. It's only a few hot summer weeks. If I can walk the tightrope without letting him catch on, or find his way into my bed, I'll never have issues saying no to a man again.

I drift off to sleep wearing a wicked smile. Chris and I should've been fucking right now, if Evie hadn't hooked up with my dad, but I'm done spilling tears over what might've been.