Hard: A Step-Brother Romance (8 page)

Then
I did what every red-blooded American patriot would do.

I
tucked her under me, wrapped one hand in her hair while the other caressed her
cheek, and I lowered my lips to hers.

What
she squealed in protest silenced with the flick of my tongue against hers.
Shay’s full, perfect lips surrendered within moments, softening and nibbling
with the intensity of my kiss. I devoured her, worshiped her, and promised to
replicate every single flick, bite, and suck on her other, equally-deserving
areas.

I
wanted more than a kiss.

I
needed
more than a kiss.

Christ,
after everything I had gone through—the injuries and recoveries, dealing with
Mom’s bullshit, hiding her cocaine-induced death that the cops kept silent out of
respect for the family’s money—I deserved more than R&R. T&A was more
like it, and the only one I wanted to recuperate with was Shay.

She
warmed beneath me. I broke my hold on her lips to kiss the cocoa perfection of
her neck. I nibbled over the delicate hollow at the base of her throat.

She
had liked that before.

She
shivered.

She
still did.

Shay
hid nothing from me, not while she writhed in full-body shudders from just the
barest hint of my touch.

And I
planned to do much more than touch.

I
gripped her hips, hard and fierce, just like before. Her low purr surged my
blood to my cock, and I pressed that promise against her.

She
remembered that too.

Gasped.
Scowled.

Pushed?

“Get
off of me.”

Whoa
.

I
did as the lady commanded, backing away as she burst off the bed. She covered
her face, placing as much distance between her and my petty officer as she could.

“Easy.”
I raised my hands. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s
wrong
?” Shay’s voice shrilled. “What’s wrong is that we are
brother
and sister
.”

“Not…really.”
I shrugged. “Technically, I guess. Is it that big of a deal?”

Apparently
it mattered to her. “I can’t believe I kissed you.” She glanced down. “You
unbuttoned my
shirt
? How! When?”

I
wiggled my fingers, catching a glimpse of a lacey bra stacked with cocoa
secrets. “It’s a talent.”

“Oh
my
God
!” She turned to fix her blouse. “This absolutely, positively
can’t happen, Zach. It can’t. This is so wrong.”

“Calm
down.”

“We’re
family
.”

“And
we didn’t do anything.” My throbbing cock could attest to that. “We’re fine.
Look at us. Brother and sister. Perfectly legit. Not fucking.”

“Not
fucking. Right.”

I’d
come just from hearing her say the word. Damn it. I hoped the mansion had the
coldest goddamned water running through its pipes. I suffered in the purest
fantasy of the press of her lips, the tightness of her slit, and the perfect
breathy gasp of her excitement.

Shay
was worked up too, but not in the good way.

She
paced, biting a lip swollen from my kisses and twisting her fingers in the long
curls that deserved to be spread over a pillow, not tied within a low ponytail.
I rose from the bed. I didn’t know what hurt more—my head or my fucking cock. I
grabbed my shirt and duffle bag.

“Take
the room,” I said.

Shay
looked at me, still panting from the breathless excitement of what almost happened.

Should
have happened.

Goddamn
it.

“Really?”
She said.

“Yeah.
I don’t care where I crash. Take it.”

She
nodded, swallowing her victory with the grace of a champion. “Thank you.”

“Yeah,
enjoy it.” I tapped on the door frame, catching her eye with a sworn promise.
“But remember one thing.”

She
crossed her arms. “What’s that?”

I savored
her form one last time, searing it into a memory I’d have to use up later. “The
next time I step foot in this room, it’ll be cause you invited me. And then?” I
winked. “We won’t be getting much sleep.”

“
Your
call is important to us. Please stay on the line. Did you know you can do all
your billing by e-mail? Just log into your account via the login portal—
”

That
was it. I was done.

A
girl could only take so many automated operators before snapping. I’d chuck the
phone in the garbage disposal. I muted the call before shouting.

 “How
in the world am I supposed to
log in
when I called for
internet
setup!”

Two
hours
on hold just to get the internet switched into my name. The damn house was too
big for one router, so we had a system of three linked up with triangulated
signals and boosters and effects straight out of Star Trek. And we
still
couldn’t get anything to work because nothing had transferred to my name yet.

The ISP
was only the latest in the line of uncooperative customer service agents. The power
supplier was less than pleased by my father’s photocopied death certificate.
The gas company insinuated I lied because no one living in a thirty thousand
square foot mansion would be managing the transfer herself. And the municipality
reminded me of the nastygram in the mail. Apparently, my father built his brick
fence four inches too high and this somehow posed a threat to the township’s
development ordinance.

If
only the brick could grind like my teeth. I’d wear it down in only a couple
nights.

I
checked the time. I was supposed to be back at the college in less than an hour
to deal with student teaching arrangements for the next semester. Since I was
living at the mansion, I had to finagle a new assignment, one closer to home
but out of my assigned school district.

That
didn’t make my advisor happy.

Music
pumped from the stairs. I stared over the kitchen counter as Zach strutted past
me to get another Gatorade from the fridge. I averted my eyes.

“Don’t
you ever wear a shirt?” I asked.

Zach
flexed as he drank. He showed off his perfect body, and it wasn’t an accident. Zach
loved nothing more than teasing me with the one temptation I wholeheartedly
denied.

I
hated that he had no shame about it. What he lacked in humility, he packed in
sheer, brute muscle. I never met a man more focused on fitness and strength
than him. It must have been a SEAL thing. I tried not to imagine him in the
gym.

Shirtless.
Lifting weights. Grunting.  Sweating.

“Like
what you see?” Zach offered me his dimpled grin.

Great.
I stared. I checked my chin for drool. No wetness there. Wish I could say the
same about other places.

I put
the phone on speakerphone while the company blared tinny music at me. I handed Zach
a glass before he took
another
drink directly from the milk carton.

“Please,”
I said. “That’s gross.”

His
eyes revealed him—an impish green that promised only trouble, aggravation, and another
night alone in bed, regretting ever sending him away.

“You’d
had worse,” he teased.

And
he’d never let me live it down. I wagged the glass. “You’re a guest, not a
puppy. I shouldn’t have to housebreak you.”

“I’d
love to see you get a collar on me.”

Nope.
Wasn’t playing. Too aggravated with the phone call. I groaned again.

“What’s
wrong?” He asked.

“Life.”

“Care
to be more specific?”

I
ended the call. Those were two hours I’d never recover. “I’ve gotta go to the
campus to rearrange my schedule, and I still haven’t sorted out the internet.”

Zach
shrugged. “I’ll do it.”

Yeah,
right. “I can do it when I get back.”

“Let
me. I live here too.”

I
arched an eyebrow.

He smirked.
“For a little bit. Or, until you beg me to stay.”

“Unlikely.”

He
crossed his arms. The muscles bulged. He didn’t even notice. “My mom was also on
the deed and utilities. I can handle this one. I’ll get your name on it too.”

I
didn’t have time to argue. Or the patience. Or the strength. Hanging near Zach
24/7 wore me down. He was sweet. He was charming.

And
he was the sexiest man I ever saw.

I
tried to keep the distance between us, but he knew just how to get under my
skin. It was better than under my sheets, but just barely. He liked teasing as much
as he liked fooling around, but it only wound me up. Zach had more control over
his urges than I did.

One good
fight and my suppressed emotions and memories would boil over. We’d have
another disastrous kiss.

Which
would lead to a
good
kiss.

And
then even more.

It couldn’t
happen. As far as I was concerned, Zach’s stay in the mansion was a business
arrangement.
Strictly
business until I got my trust and he shipped out
wherever they needed superheroes with egos bigger than the country they
defended.

“Okay,
fine.” I pointed the phone at him. “Make sure I’m listed as the primary
contact. I’ll be back in a couple hours after I fix my schedule. Don’t burn the
house down while I’m gone.”

“You
can count on me.”

He
mock saluted and then drank straight from the milk carton.

Damn
it, I nearly smiled. I escaped from the kitchen as quickly as I could without
looking suspicious.

Bad
idea. Very bad idea. Worst possible idea
.

I
repeated the words in a quick cadence. It didn’t help. I sought refuge in my
car and headed back to the campus. I tried not to think about Zach. I got to
the main gate before his grin popped into my head again.

Not
too bad for a first attempt. I made it half a mile, but it wasn’t enough. My
fingers curled over the steering wheel as I chastised myself. I’d have to try
harder.

“No
way,” I murmured. “You are not trying anything
Hard
. Not ever again.”

No
matter how much my idiotic body wanted it.

Step-brother.
Stealing your inheritance. Worst possible idea.

God,
he was a great kisser.

I
rolled onto campus a mess of nerves, stress, and a horrid combination of shame
and unfulfilled need.

The
few students taking their summer classes stared at my sleek Mercedes, but I
swore they glared at me, like they knew what I did. I checked to make sure I
didn’t wear a giant sign looped over my body, sandwich-board style.

Come
see the amazing brother-fucker. Gaze upon the most regretted life decision
since the twerking Miley Cyrus!

I
kept my head down and blouse buttoned, trying to look as non-sexual deviant-y as
possible. Of course, that meant every hound from the dining hall to the
education building tried their luck. But
baby
didn’t sound as good
coming from the twiggy idiots playing ultimate Frisbee in the middle of the admissions
hall. I ducked below a wobbly pass and burst into my advisor’s office.

Professor
Sweeten was anything but sweet. She graded on favorites, changed editions of
the textbook every year so the incoming students couldn’t buy used books, and
hated anyone who ever disagreed with her opinions. Granting her tenure was like
giving the devil the keys to the church and wondering why the collection plate was
empty. And cracked. And covered in sulfur.

“Good
afternoon, Professor Sweeten.” I gave her my best smile. “Thank you for meeting
with me. How are you—”

“What
do you want?”

She couldn’t
even bother to raise her wrinkled head to look me in the eye. She hacked—a
smoker’s wheeze that sounded like it might have hurt, bless her shriveled
heart.

“Um…I
emailed earlier this week and asked if it were possible to change assignments
for my student teaching position in the fall—”

“Oh,
you
.” She pushed the plastic frame of her glasses low on her nose and
glanced at me. “I remember you. May Franklin.”

“Shay.”

“Right.
You listen to me young lady. In any other circumstances with any other students,
the answer would be a crystal clear N-O. Is that understood? You are assigned
where you’re assigned. If you were a real teacher, this would be your
job
.
You would be expected to move if you wanted to earn your salary and put food on
your table. That’s what being an
adult
means.”

Oh,
she was lucky I wore my heels or I would have thrown down right in her office.

“Yes,
ma’am,” I said.

“I
don’t care who your father is. Was.”

That
made two of us. “What does he have to do with this?”

Professor
Sweeten scoffed. “Hard to deny a student’s request when her father donated
enough money to build a new wing for the library. You can have your
reassignment. The best charter school in Buckhead is a dream job to those who
earn
the opportunity. Fortunately, with just the click of a pen, it’s yours.
Congratulations
.”

“Excuse
me?”

“Pay
attention, Miss Franklin. You may think you can waltz in here and buy your way
into whatever position you want, but that’s not how my class works.”

She was
kidding. She
had
to be. Anger prickled at my temples, but the
indignation hadn’t hit my mouth yet.

Yet
.

Professor
Sweeten tossed the reassignment form to me. “By the end of this semester,
you’ll be lucky if you can afford a passing grade.”

I
folded the paper and tucked it neatly into my purse. “With all due respect,
ma’am, you haven’t seen the size of my bank account.”

I
didn’t let her speak and slammed the door behind me. Her bookshelves rattled,
and I could only hope I entombed her with her educational ethics books.

How
dare she?

How
dare anyone insinuate that I was
buying
my way through school?

So
my father bought my car. So he paid outright for my tuition. So he ensured I
had enough for books and the best meal plans and other amenities.

I
sunk into the leather interior of my Mercedes. The HD display lit up under my
fingertips.

The car
had air-conditioned seats.

I
banged my head against the wheel. I knew what it looked like, but I wasn’t
buying
my way through life. I worked my butt off!

Still,
it was going to be hard to convince
anyone
while I sipped a
mai tai
from the comforts of a resort-styled infinity pool overlooking my tennis courts
and gardens. Not impossible, but the golden spoon in my mouth garbled my defense.

Damn
it.

At
least I had the reassignment, though a two-hour commute would have been Momma’s
way of telling me to take my lumps before the lord himself started flipping
tables in my kitchen.

I couldn’t
worry about the gig or Professor Sweeten. I still had enough time this afternoon
to wrestle with Dad’s investment portfolio. The stocks transferred smoothly but
the retirement funds needed a bit of finagling. I had no idea what I was doing
with any of it.

Suddenly,
lounging in the pool all afternoon didn’t sound so bad.
If
Zach didn’t
steal it. The man was a literal seal and spent most of his time swimming laps.
If he could keep to one side of the resort-styled pool, he might have been good
company. As much as it pained me to say it, he had been fun so far.

Zach
could reach the top shelves in the kitchen for the popcorn. And he didn’t mind
binge watching entire seasons of shows at once on Netflix. He also killed a house
centipede for me, which should have canonized him as a goddamned saint.

He
hadn’t made a pass at me. Hadn’t tried to kiss me. And he let me hold the
remote.