Ain't Misbehaving (42 page)

“Keep away from me.” The note of fear told him she wasn’t playing games.

“I’ll get the light.”

“No! Just go, and I won’t tell anyone.”

He froze in the act of reaching for the light, his gut churning with acute apprehension. He knew that voice. Suddenly, all the new things he’d noticed about Marisa made sense.

With a sick and sinking sensation in his belly, he fumbled with the bedside lamp. Soft light bathed his room. He swore, low with feeling. “What are you doing here, Zoe?”

Instead of answering, she smoothed a lock of light brown hair off her face and stared at him with big, brown eyes. When her gaze dropped, he cursed again and reached for his trousers, rapidly stepping into them and forcing the zipper over his erection.

“Put on some clothes.” There was a distinct snap in his voice. Self-loathing sat heavily in the bottom of his gut. His mother and John would die of shock if they found out. They weren’t going to find out. He sure as hell wasn’t going to confess to his monumental cock-up. No pun intended.

“I’ll make coffee.” He strode from the room but couldn’t resist a last look at her. She caught him in the act, and he jerked as if touched with a hot poker. He cursed under his breath. Her curvy image was seared on his retinas for life.

Instead of making coffee, Matt padded across the terracotta tiles and headed straight for his liquor cupboard in the ultra-modern kitchen. He opened the door and pulled out the first bottle that came to hand. Whiskey. Unscrewing the cap, he drank straight from the bottle. The peaty flavor cut across his taste buds. He closed his eyes and swallowed. Mistake. Zoe’s sexy shape flashed in front of his eyes. He’d—Matt shuddered, still able to feel the warm, clinging flesh of her pussy.

“Do you grope every woman you find in your bed?”

“It’s my bed,” he snapped, his eyes flicking open. She wore his robe belted around her trim waist. Shit, he wasn’t the one in the wrong here. He was the innocent victim in this…debacle. “You were naked.”

“Because the airline lost my luggage.” She folded her arms across her chest. His eyes followed the move, noting that in the years since he’d last studied her closely, she’d filled out in a spectacular fashion. His cock jerked in displeasure, reminding Matt he required satisfaction. But that wasn’t going to happen. Not with this woman at any rate.

“Why did you leave your clothes all over the place?” he demanded, trying to wrest control of the interrogation from her.

“Do you have sex with all the naked women you find in your bed?” The tip of her tongue darted out to moisten the plump curve of her bottom lip. He followed the innocent move with avid attention. He’d forgotten how beautiful she was with her tangle of curls, a mixture of light brown and gold, hanging loose around her shoulders, her deep brown eyes, olive skin, and sexy, kissable lips. Wild child. He shook himself from the sensual spell, but his palms itched to touch, to explore.

“Matt?”

“What?”
Concentrate, dammit
. “I’m asking the questions here.”

She ignored him. “Touching me was no big deal. I’ve had sex before. I won’t tell tales.”

Matt realized his mouth had dropped open and snapped it shut. He had lost control of this situation the minute he’d realized he’d had his hands all over his stepsister. “I thought you were Marisa,” he snarled. “What the hell else was I meant to think when I arrived home to find a trail of clothes leading to my bedroom?”

“Marisa?” Her bottom lip quivered.

“My girlfriend.”

“Looks like she stood you up.” The hurt expression disappeared, replaced by an enigmatic one. An impish smile glinted in her eyes. “I’m going back to bed. You coming?”

Zoe wanted to laugh at the shock on Matt’s face. She shivered inwardly as pleasure surged in a molten rush to the achy spot between her legs. Her nipples were tight and crying out for attention. Tim, her childhood partner in crime and the only man she’d ever had sex with, had never made her feel like this with just a touch. Oh, they’d enjoyed their experimenting and remained close friends, but this… This was in a whole other league.

Her gaze slid over his naked chest, drifted up and down then settled on his biceps. “The Celtic tattoo is new. I like it.”

Matt didn’t answer, and she fought bubbling humor as she turned for his bedroom, putting an extra sashay in her steps. She’d never felt more feminine, more aware of her needs and power. In the bedroom, a secret smile curved her lips as she undid the robe and let it drop to the floor. She had loved him forever and instinctively knew what she felt wasn’t the love of a sister for a brother. It was more. Bigger. Now that she was here, she realized he was the reason she found every other man lacking.

Despite what people might say, there was no familial relationship between them. She was old enough now. Love between them wasn’t a sin. Nothing this beautiful could be a crime.

“You can’t—For God’s sake! Put some clothes on.” Matt had followed her, and now he looked as if he’d taken a bite from a sour apple.

“I always sleep in the nude.” She wanted to laugh so much her chest hurt. Then his gaze lit on her boobs and lingered. As he stared, her breasts prickled. The humor inside dropped away, replaced by growing lust. She trembled, sensual need winding her tight inside. With great daring, she gave into her need and stroked the palms of her hands across the taut peaks.

“Stop that,” he said. “God, I’ve fallen down a bloody rabbit hole. It’s the only explanation.”

The tide of red on his cheeks and the way he kept right on looking at her gave her hope. If he didn’t feel the same way, he would have swathed her with clothes from head to toe and consigned her to the couch. Instead, he stared, his gaze lingering on her curves and watching the glide of her hands.

“Don’t you ever pleasure yourself?” she murmured, going with instinct.

“Whoa!” He held his hands in front of him and backed up. “Too much information. You take the bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

She fingered her nipples until they were even harder, plucked at the tight nubs, teasing and driving her arousal higher. Through lowered lashes, she saw he studied every move despite his protests. Her hands glided lower, across her quivering belly. She traced a path to the curls protecting her sex and delved between her legs. A streak of pleasure greeted her touch. Already, her juices flowed, easing the way. Her finger skated across her clit and another wave of pleasure quick-stepped through her body. “Do you think I should shave or get waxed? Maybe trim a bit more than I have already? I hear sensitivity is increased when pubic hair is removed.”

“Zoe, you have to stop.”

She lifted weighted eyelids to stare at him, noticing his gaze kept drifting down to watch the stroke of her finger. He still looked gorgeous with a broad chest and muscles in all the right places. His blue eyes glittered while his short sable hair appeared charmingly ruffled. He’d looked pretty good in the buff too. No bandy legs or hidden gut for Matthew Cantrell.

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?”