Crude: A Stepbrother Romance (2 page)

BOOK: Crude: A Stepbrother Romance
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She doesn’t stop my hand as I trails down her neck, and she kisses me harder when my fingers find her nipple hard and ready atop the swell of her breast. She moans when I slide my hand under, pushing under her bra to feel the warmth of her skin there and the pebbled hardness of her nipple.

When my hand slides lower, she tenses, but when I pause, she’s rocking her body against me, as if urging me on. She whimpers into my mouth, her tongue curling around mine as my fingers pull at the button of her jeans, and she moans when I slide the zipper down, one rivet at a time.
 

Her panties are lace at the top, and I can feel her shiver against me as I trace my fingers down stomach to the waistband.

“My dad...your mom…” She whispers suddenly, pulling away from my lips and biting hers nervously. I look towards the house, and even though it’s lit up downstairs, I know we’re hidden away back behind the pool house like this.

“We’re fine,” I say, sliding my fingertip across the waist of her panties; “Do you want me to stop?”

She looks up at me, her eyes blazing with something fierce and her lips slightly parted. She slowly shakes her head; “No.”

I’m pushing my fingers beneath then, sliding my whole hand under her panties to feel her bare and ready, feeling how burning hot and soaking wet she is for this the second I find her lips. She moans when I curl a finger into her, stroking at that spot just inside until she’s moaning into my lips again and again as she rocks her hips against me.
 

I drop my lips to her neck, sucking at the skin there and letting the sound of her sighs and her moans drift over me and drive me wilder and wilder, until I can barely stand it. I’m moving down her body, and it’s only then that I feel her start to freeze.

“You ok?”

“I-” I look up and see her staring at me wide-eyed, her lip between her teeth; “I’ve never, um-”

I grin; “Yeah, no, I got that.”

She blushes; “I-”

“I want to taste you, princess I want to slide my tongue into your pussy and lick the honey right out of you until you come against my face.”

I don’t say it to shock her or anything, it’s just the bare truth that comes tumbling totally unfiltered right out of me. Paige’s eyes go even wider, and for a second I think I may have just fucked this up by pushing too hard.

That is, until I see her tongue come out to slide over her lips as she slowly nods her head.

Oh fuck yes.

I’m pulling her jeans and her panties down her legs then, feeling her arch her hips to help me. Her skin is soft and glows in the moonlight as I run my lips up the inside of her thighs, teasing her and taking my time. I’m not trying to scare her, and I’m forcing myself to remember that this is about
her
and giving her this for the first time. My cock might be hard enough to cut diamonds inside my pants right now, but I’m doing everything I can to remember that this isn’t about me.

Because this is all about her, and showing her the things and making her feel what she’s never felt before.

She’s breathing heavily as my lips draw closer to her center, and she whimpers as they brush across the place where her thighs
almost
touch her pussy. She’s so wet that I can see it glistening in the moonlight, and the honeyed, sweet smell of her is more than I can take anymore.

She cries out when my tongue touches her there; her whole body going rigid and then melting into the lawn chair. She sighs contentedly, and moans as I drag my tongue up through her folds, curling it around her clit and making her whimper before dropping back to her opening and sliding it as deep as I can.

My hands tease over the skin of her thighs, tracing up her legs and pushing them up and over my shoulders. She writhes against me, making these sexy as fuck mewling sounds as I slowly tease her with my tongue. I’m dragging up through her wetness,
just
teasing her clit with the tip of my tongue on every stroke. I’m coaxing her higher and higher, never pushing her, never forcing it; just a long slow build until I can shatter her world with my tongue.

“You’re too good at this, you know,” She moans.

“At what.”

“Being bad.”

“You have
no
idea.”
 

What a DICK!

I can feel my heart practically jump out of my chest as I slam on the brakes, narrowly missing the motorcycle that cuts me off at the foot of my own driveway. The guy on the bike only slows down enough to flip me off though, before he roars off.

My pulse thumping a mile a minute, my hands tight on the steering wheel at their ten-and-two position, and my foot still jamming the brake pedal to the floor. But mostly I’m just
confused
as I watch in shock as the biker goes tearing up the driveway to my father’s estate.

Who the heck is that?

I mean, I know they say most accidents happen within a mile from home, but “the mailbox” is
kind of
pushing it! On top of that, there’s the embarrassment that, as totally cautious a driver as I normally am, I
know
I wasn’t paying attention back there.
 

The other distractions of the day go tumbling through my head as I frown and start to follow the biker up the curving wooded drive to the main house. The dull, nagging whine in my head about my father wanting to have an “important talk” with me after my piano lessons today about Amanda, the woman he’s been seeing, comes thudding back to the forefront. Amanda, the mysterious woman I’ve only met once, even if I know they’ve been dating for more than six months now. And whatever, it’s fine that he’s dating. Heck, a guy like my dad
should
have been back in the field the day after my mom took off, the way she did.

So yeah, my dad dating is
fine
, but there’s something weird about dating the widow of one of his top foremen that’s a little weird. And a little
classless
, if you ask me.

But whatever.

At the top of the drive, it’s my turn to stick my finger out the window and flip off the guy on the bike, who’s now kicking back the stand and swinging his leg back over it. I slam the car into park and yank the keys out as I step out into the dry Texas heat.

Alright mister, you and I are gonna have word-

Oh
.

The guy’s back is to me as he shrugs his leather jacket off, and slips the helmet off his head. His hand comes up as he stretches, the fingers raking through his short dark hair and the sleeve of his white t-shirt straining tight over the defined muscles of his bicep. A half-sleeve of tattoos curves around that arm, swirling around those muscles, and I find myself blushing a little as I
stare
.

He’s ignoring me and my brake-screeching driveway entrance, his back still to me as he turns his head just a bit to bring a pack of cigarettes up to his mouth and draw one out with his lips. His very perfect, very sexy lips there on his very perfect,
very
defined jaw.

Um, wow.

I’m taking a step forward when two things happen. At the top of the curving stone steps, the front door to the house opens and my dad steps out with a blonde woman on his arm.
 

And then the mysterious and sexy biker in my driveway turns around, looks right at me, and suddenly starts grinning.

Oh you have got to be kidding me
.

Stranger? Well, yes, but not really. Because I know him. Well, I’ve at least had the displeasure of
meeting him

He’s the boy from the open mic songwriters show the night before last at the Music Hall. The show I most certainly wasn’t supposed to be at, and the show my father thinks I was at Megan’s house studying during. The open mic show where I don’t play the Mozart and the Tchaikovsky from my lessons, I play and sing
my own
songs.

Oh my God, what is HE
doing here?!

He’s the boy who loudly shushed his buddies when they started to cat-call me on stage. The boy who met me right off the stage with a grin and a look that promised all
sorts
of bad decisions and offered to buy me a drink. A drink I, of course, declined seeing as I’m underage. The boy who leaned close and asked when I was playing next as he ran his finger through a stray lock of my wild red hair and tucked it behind me ear. The boy who had me absolutely tongue-tied and hanging off of his words until…well, until he got
quite
crude with them and I marched away, wishing I’d slapped him.

And of course, the boy who’s been in my thoughts ever since then, in ways he definitely shouldn’t be, because he’s so obviously
trouble
.

And here he is grinning at me and lighting a cigarette next to his motorcycle in my father’s driveway.

Seriously,
what
is happening here?

My dad beams at me as he walks down the stairs with the woman I now recognize as Amanda, my dad’s girlfriend. Somewhere in my head, an alarm bell starts to go off quietly.

“Ah, good! You’re both here!”

The alarm bell is joined by a second, and they start to get louder.

“Paige,” He smiles widely at me; “You remember Amanda. Well, we were going to wait, but we’ve got some
very
exciting news for you.” He looks towards Mr. Trouble; “Both of you!”

The wailing of the alarm bells starts to crescendo inside my head.

“Paige,
this
is Knox, Amanda’s son.”

The driveway starts to spin under my feet as the warning bells reach a cacophony, and my dad and Amanda are just standing there smiling.

“Knox already heard, but Paige, we wanted to be here together to tell you that Amanda and I have decided-”

Oh please no, please God don’t say it-

“We’ve decided to get married this fall!”

The world goes silent, and it’s in slow motion as my jaw drops and I turn to stare in horror at the dangerous, tattooed, muscled bad-boy standing there grinning at me.

“So Paige, meet Knox, your new stepbrother.”

My tongue turns to lead in my mouth and I just stand there
staring
at him in shock as the takes the cigarette out of his mouth, crosses those lean muscle arms over his chest and just grins at me. His eyes roam quite freely over my body as he opens those perfectly devilish lips; “Well, well,
well
.”

Oh this is not good.

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