Read Wild Child Online

Authors: Shelley Munro

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Short Stories & Anthologies, #Short Stories, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Romantic Comedy, #Two Hours or More (65-100 Pages), #Contemporary Fiction, #Single Authors

Wild Child (2 page)

BOOK: Wild Child
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Her finger circled her clitoris. The resulting jolt made her groan.

Matt blinked and seemed to shake himself. “I’m going. And you should stop. You’ll go blind if you touch yourself too much.”

She chuckled as he backed away. Was that desperation she heard? “Don’t think so. The optometrist said I had twenty-twenty vision. Besides, this is your fault. You started it. I don’t suppose you want to come and help me finish?” She waited, the tension in the room suddenly thick enough to hack at with an axe.

“You’re my sister!” His hands tightened to fists at his side and he edged in the direction of the door.

“Stepsister, if you want to be technical about it,” she corrected. “We aren’t related in any way.”

“Mum and John are worried about you. I’ll ring them and let them know you’re here.”

“Scared?” she taunted.

His reply came out in a mutter, but she thought she heard, “Hell, yeah.”

Zoe stretched like a sleepy kitten and watched his hurried retreat. She grinned. Coming to the Gold Coast was the best idea ever. All she needed to do was keep him off balance and her dreams might have a chance of coming true. She might actually catch him.

 

 

Chapter Two

 

 

Matt closed his bedroom door with a soft click when what he really wanted to do was slam it loud enough for every man, woman, and child in New Zealand to hear. It took every ounce of control he possessed to go against the instinct and rein in his temper.

His teeth gritted together so hard his jaw ached. All he could see in his mind’s eye was Zoe, with her hand between her legs, pleasuring herself. A violent tremble shook him. Walking away was the hardest thing he’d ever done.

He headed straight for the phone, knowing his mother was probably still awake and worrying.

“John? Yeah, it’s Matt. Zoe’s here. She’s just arrived.” He didn’t intend to go into details about a trail of clothes leading to their less than pure daughter. Only trouble lay in that direction. He cast a hard stare at the door to his bedroom. He wondered what Zoe was doing and groaned out loud.

“Matt, are you listening?” his stepfather asked.

He started and felt the rush of heat to his face. “Yeah. Sorry. I remembered something I needed to do at work.” Thank God they couldn’t see his expression right now.

“Matt? Zoe is with you?” His mother came on the other line.

“She’s here.” And how. The minx was lying in his bed having a party for one. His cock jerked insistently, and his traitorous brain suggested he should toss his scruples and join in the celebration.

“I don’t know what we’re going to do with her,” his stepfather murmured.

“She’s such a wild child,” his mother agreed. “I wonder where she gets that from?”

“Don’t start, Jenny,” his stepfather said in a hasty voice.

Matt grinned. Old discussion. A family joke, but it certainly seemed Zoe was taking after her father. Wild child. His smile died, replaced by a sliver of fear. His mother had said Zoe was running with a bad crowd at home. Shit, he hoped the drug scene hadn’t sucked her in with all the party pills, Ecstasy and other mood enhancers. Learning of her experiments with sex went way past his comfort zone as it was.

“So it’s all settled,” his mother said. “Zoe can stay with you for a month or so while she gets her head sorted out.”

“No!” Matt blurted in horror. God, she couldn’t stay with him. He’d never live to tell the tale. They’d kill each other—if they didn’t end up doing a horizontal tango first.

“Matt, I know it’s an imposition, but if she stays with you, it will set my mind at ease. You don’t want me to worry, do you?”

Matt cursed under his breath. Imposition.
Hell
.

“Besides, aren’t you working long hours at the moment?” his mother continued blithely. “You’ll hardly see each other, but you’ll be available if she needs you.”

“What about my love life?” Matt demanded.

“Matthew Gregory Cantrell,” his mother said in her best don’t-mess-with-me voice. “There will be no hanky panky while Zoe is there. Understood?”

“Now, Jenny. Matt’s an adult. You can’t make him give a promise like that. It’s his house.”
Stepdad to the rescue
.

His mother sighed in resignation, obviously realizing she had no right to impose such strictures on her adult son. “All right. But if you’re away from home overnight, make sure Zoe knows how to contact you. Okay?”

Matt’s shoulders slumped. He knew when he was beaten. They were right. With the hours he was working at the moment, their paths would barely cross. And the girlfriend thing wasn’t an issue since it was obvious Marisa was still sulking. “Zoe can stay for a while.”

He chatted a little longer before saying goodnight. Matt eyed the closed bedroom door again. A month would pass quickly, and he had plenty of work to keep him from stepping over the line.

* * * * *

“Wake up, sleepyhead.” Zoe held a steaming cup of coffee under Matt’s nose, moving it back and forth. On the odd occasion he had stayed in Auckland, he hadn’t coped with mornings. Didn’t look like that had changed. His hair was charmingly ruffled. Dark stubble covered his chin and there were shadows under his eyes. The leather couch looked comfy, yet guilt still assailed her for an instant before she forced it away. She had adult feelings for him. She was an adult. It was time to stop running.

She set the coffee aside and shook his bare shoulder.

“Hey,” he murmured in a husky voice. His arm curled around her neck, tugging her down on his chest.

A smirk curved her mouth. Nope, he hadn’t changed. He still took a long time to get going in the mornings, his brain needing a kick-start to warm up.

He nuzzled her neck and kissed a path across her jaw to her mouth. Her heart thudded erratically against her ribs as their lips connected. Her tummy quivered. No way was she about to act the outraged virgin when his sinful lips were finally nibbling hers. Quashing the traitorous thought that told her she was taking advantage, she decided to use every weapon in her arsenal to win this battle.

His tongue stroked across her lips, and she eagerly opened her mouth. Their tongues twirled together and the kiss quickly became sensual. Carnal.

Zoe sensed the exact moment he woke. His arms stiffened and his lips stopped moving. He shoved her away so quickly she fell off the cream couch to land on the floor. She stared at him in a reproachful manner, slowly climbed to her feet, and rubbed her butt. “That wasn’t very nice.”

“What the devil are you doing?”

“I brought you coffee.” She gestured at the coffee on the low, glass-topped table. “You were the one who grabbed me.” She turned a fraction to pick up the mug. The shirt she wore rode up to reveal the lower cheeks of her bare ass.

“Go put on a robe,” he snapped.

She suppressed a grin. Ooh, this was fun. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him so rattled. Apart from that one time when she’d kissed him after opening her birthday present. He’d gone as stiff as a garden rake. All of him. A giggle erupted.
Oops
. Bad timing. She wanted to show her new sophistication not remind him of her age.

“It’s too hot for a robe. I didn’t think you’d mind if I borrowed a T-shirt. Do you have any boxer shorts I can wear?”

Blue eyes wide, his gaze drifted up and down her body.

She straightened and stuck out her chest. A late bloomer, she’d done a lot of growing after he’d left New Zealand.

His gaze lingered on her breasts, and she wanted to crow out loud.
Gotcha!

“When you look at me like that, I can feel it right here.” She wantonly touched her breasts, delicately tracing across her fabric-covered nipples. “And down here.” She cupped her mound.

“Mum and John asked if it was okay for you to stay here with me.”

Her hand jerked from her body as though an icy-cold glass of water had struck her, cooling her skin too rapidly. Thinking about parents and Matt in the same sentence wasn’t going to help this relationship progress. That was part of the reason she’d come over to Australia to invade his territory.

“What did you say when they asked you to let me stay?” She watched him closely to catch every nuance of his expression.

He stood with a loud sigh. “I didn’t have any option. I said ‘yes’.”

“Ooh,” she squeaked, jumping up to rain kisses on his face. “Thank you.”

Matt jerked his face upward just as she moved in for another shower of kisses. Their lips collided. They both stilled, lips pursed and touching. Hungry. A groan escaped him. His arms came around her, and he pulled her flush with his body. His erection prodded her belly and frankly felt uncomfortable, but she wasn’t about to complain.

Oh, no. That would be silly.

Cupping her head, his mouth covered hers hungrily, as if he couldn’t get enough, and she gave into the kiss without a fight, parting her lips, letting the heady sensation swell and build inside until she felt breathless.

Pulling away abruptly, he muttered a curse. “Coffee. I’m not awake. Not responsible for my actions.”

Yeah, right.
Zoe hid her smirk. She had him running scared.

“I thought I’d get a job in one of the beachfront cafes. Are there any you’d recommend?” And she’d like to research her idea to open a coffee shop of her own.

“Try Broadbeach first,” he said, avoiding her eyes. He rubbed his hand across a bare chest. “I’m going to have a shower. The paper should be in the mailbox out front.” He paused and gave her bare legs a hard, disapproving stare. “Don’t go out there without putting on clothes.”

She watched him walk away without looking back. The bathroom door slammed, and he shot the lock.

“Well, damn,” she said, clicking her fingers. “I’ll have to go onto plan B.”

* * * * *

Matt thought about Zoe all day. He tried to concentrate on work, but she kept invading his head. He’d had his tongue halfway down her throat. He’d wanted to throw her down on the nearest flat surface and plunge between her legs.

His stepsister
.

He groaned with feeling. She was going to live in the same house for the next month. The woman had teasing down to an art. How the hell was he going to survive?

After checking his watch, he decided he might as well head home for all the good he was doing for his client. He stuffed papers in his briefcase and downloaded the work he’d done on the budget so far to a flash drive. Maybe he’d be able to work at home on his laptop.

Fifteen minutes later, he parked the car in the driveway, grabbed his briefcase, and strode inside.

The sun still shone overhead and the tang of salt wafted on the sea breeze. A gull wheeled lazily overhead, riding the air currents. Perhaps a swim would rid him of the headache threatening to expand and squeeze his brain like a vise.

He paused inside the front door to stare around his dining room and lounge and into the kitchen. The tiled floor was clear of clothes as were the cream couch and matching chairs. Not a single dish littered the sleek glass coffee table or the sparkling marble counter in the kitchen. The house was silent. That could be a good omen.

Or not.

He wondered where she was before cursing under his breath. Damn, he had to stop this stupid mooning after her. They could not become involved. No matter how much his bloody libido demanded otherwise.

After setting his leather briefcase on the wooden table to the left of the couch, he stepped into his bedroom. A quick glance confirmed she wasn’t hiding, intending to jump out and pinch his butt, or worse.

The bed was tidied, the navy blue duvet cover smooth without a wrinkle to bear witness to her presence. The top of the dresser bore discarded change, a business card, the accountancy magazine he’d brought home to read, and a clothes brush. A faint trace of lemon polish scented the room, courtesy of the recent housemaid service. He’d have thought Zoe was a figment of his imagination except it was hard to miss the battered black and red backpack lying on the floor on the far side of the bed. Her luggage had obviously turned up.

Sighing, he pulled his swim shorts off a shelf in his walk-in wardrobe and stripped off shoes and socks, the short-sleeved business shirt, and black trousers he’d worn for work. Clothed in his swim shorts, he grabbed a towel from the bathroom cupboard and left the house via the double French doors in the front.

Matt took a deep breath and crossed the lawn to open the wooden gate leading to the beach. The easy access to the sea was one of the reasons he’d purchased this house. Worth every cent he’d paid for it.

A feminine laugh dragged his attention to the right. A group of young men surrounded a single woman. His jaw tensed. His gut tightened. It looked as if Zoe had met every lifesaver from the surf club down the beach. Bronzed men, not much older than Zoe, surrounded her, practically fencing her in. Matt crossed the sand separating them in three giant steps.

“Zoe.”

The men turned as one and collectively took a step back.

“Matt.” Exasperation dripped from his name. “You’re scaring them.”

He wanted to do more than alarm them. Zoe was… Damn, she wasn’t his. She was his stepsister. He mentally consigned her to the correct slot.

“Is this your boyfriend?” one asked.

“Yeah,” she said with a naughty twinkle in her eyes.

Matt stared for the scant moment it took her to climb sinuously to her feet. Then he gaped. Zoe… Hell, she was sin incarnate with that luscious, curvy body. He was instantly aroused and thinking of sex—hard, plunging strokes that filled both him and his partner with drugging pleasure. He eyed the young men with a hard-edged stare and saw they, too, had their tongues practically hanging out. One turned to him with obvious envy on his face.

Then, she was in his arms, her voluptuous breasts brushing his chest, her lips clinging to his.

“You’re home early,” she murmured in a throaty, come-to-bed voice.

“Yeah.” Hell, every drop of blood in his body zapped south. He was having trouble thinking. This was Zoe and he wanted…

“Are you going for a swim? Can I come? Thanks for the job-hunting tips,” she added, sending a smile to the lifesavers. When Matt stood in stupor, she grasped him by the hand and tugged him to the water.

“Don’t forget to swim between the flags,” one of the men called.

Zoe waved acknowledgement before concentrating her dazzling white smile on him. With her light brown hair loose around her shoulders, the silver hoops in her ears, and the tiny red bikini, she looked like a modern-day gypsy girl. And he wanted her bad. Bad enough to overcome his personal scruples. Their parents’ censure. He thought about that for an instant and acknowledged his answer wasn’t a simple one. It was a maybe.

Sighing, he waded into the water, the surge of incoming breakers stalling his getaway. A splash at his side told him the minx was keeping up with him without difficulty. He’d forgotten her love of the water. He snorted, the sound a derisive one. A high school swimming champion, she could probably outlast him.

A wave hit him mid-chest and almost knocked him off his feet. She grabbed his arm and hauled him upright. The next one struck almost straight away, bumping their bodies together. From chest to groin, they were plastered against each other. He groaned and lowered his head to kiss her almost before the thought formed. Damn his scruples. For once, he was going to swim with the flow.

BOOK: Wild Child
10.82Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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