Hard Rock Stepbrothers The Complete Series (2 page)

“Ah, perfect,” he said, reaching in for something. “He doesn’t have cherries, but…” His gaze glued to her pert nipples, showing through her bra and white tank top.

Mickie’s throat went dry when he held up the can of whipped cream. She held up her hands. “Look, Shane, I’m suppose to make sure you behave, not make out with you.”

He flashed a sideways smile at her and took a step closer. “Oh, come on, sis.”

Her eyes glued to the way his stone wash jeans clung to his muscular thighs. Her nipples tingled harder when he slowly swept his tongue over his bottom lip while staring at her breasts. Mickie’s body always betrayed her will when she was near Shane or Hunter.

“We can’t.” She swallowed when he took her hand again. “You’re my stepbrother.”

Shane shrugged and pulled the cap off the cream with his teeth. “So what? We aren’t related. We’ve had this argument before.” He shook the can and his eyes never left hers.

The hand around her wrist shot out lightning quick, molding to the generous curve of her butt. Through her cargo shorts, he dug his fingers into her cheek and urged her against him.

“Still…” She bit her lip, felt her face flush hotter from the blatant lust in his stare. “We probably shouldn’t.”

He aimed the can downward and pulled the neck of her tank top open. Before she could free herself, he squirted a thick spiral of gooey, white whipped cream between her ample cleavage.

He shook his head and tried to pull off a boy-next-door expression. It wasn’t working. “Geez, now someone’s gonna have to lick that all up for you.”

Before she could stop him, he buried his nose between her breasts and began lapping up the sweet mess he’d made. One hand continued to massage her full, firm ass while the other splayed across the center of her back, pinning her against him.

She moaned when he peeled back one of the lacy cups of her bra and tongued a nipple. Soon the rounded globes were free of the filmy fabric. He lavished both breasts with attention, sucking and squeezing after he yanked her tank top lower. That shirt was ruined, she thought. The neckline would be all stretched to hell, but she didn’t really care at the moment.

He pushed her into the counter while sliding his hands up her sides, feeling her every curve with eager fingers. Before planting a hungry kiss on her lips, he tugged her tank top over her head, smearing the left over cream up her neck. Once her heavy, teardrop breasts were bare, he dipped his head and sucked the remaining cream from her neck and clavicle.

She sighed and gripped at his shoulders as he did so, tilting her head back to give him better access to her sticky sweet skin.

She shouldn’t be doing this. Not with Shane. Not now. Dad expected her to be the responsible one, but responsible thoughts flew out the window as her stepbrother’s teeth tugged on a nipple.

However, it wouldn’t be the first time she’d found herself in this position with one of the twins. She pushed the memory away for now, thought about stopping Shane, but then his tongue slid between her lips while his hand slipped down the front of her shorts.

No, this was wrong. So very wrong.

But why did it feel so right?

Her hand slid under his t-shirt. She enjoyed the ripple of muscle beneath her fingers, stopping at his nipples to lazily play with them. He suckled her lips until she sighed, urging her damp labia apart with two fingers as he did so.

They slid down to the floor in a tangle of lips, teeth, and arms. Not long after the cool lino touched her thighs, she and Shane writhed naked atop it.

He reached up and grabbed the whipped cream from the counter. Then he kneeled between her legs, can poised in his hand as he flashed a grin.

“Hmmmm…” he said, lowering the perforated tip of the can to her belly button. “If I accidentally squirt cream here…”

He pushed the tip and cool, frothy cream kissed her skin. She gasped at its chilly touch this time, so close to her heated sex. He drew a whipped cream circle around her navel in little whorls that tickled terribly. She squirmed as he squirted cream lower, now tracing it in a line toward her mound.

“Someone’s gonna have to lick that up too,” he said, poking his tongue out at her.

He urged his knee closer to her wet sex, making her spread her legs wider. When she did so, he dipped two fingers between her slit, parting it and commenting on how wet she was already. Cold cream sprayed from the can and touched the line of fuzzy hair running down the center of her mound. She gasped again and met his glittering eyes, filled with such hot desire she had to look away quickly.

Then he held her trickling pussy lips apart while he placed the tip of the can against her clit. The rough tip lightly scratched her extra sensitive skin and made her hips buck upward. Her clit throbbed as he squirted more gooey whiteness over it before moving lower.

Her back arched deeper as the thick coolness spread between her heated, seeping lips. Her pussy pulsed, growing wetter. Soon after, a warm tongue licked a path through the fluffy cloud of cream between her legs. Then it eagerly lapped up the puff of cream atop her clit.

The sensation flowed out from her pelvis, making her limbs feel like she’d immersed herself in a warm bath. She relaxed. No, she melted.

His tongue poked deep inside her, curling and stroking her cunt walls. She let out a long “Ohhhh,” of satisfaction.

His tongue slowly glided from within her, wriggling up the length of her soaking slit before he pressed it to her clit once more. Fingers teased her throbbing opening and she groaned when two slipped inside her. They stroked her cervix while he sucked her clit deep into his mouth. He flit his tongue over the sensitive bud as he did so.

Orgasm shivered through her, making her gasp. She reached down and clutched at his strong shoulders, digging her short nails into his honey colored flesh. Intense sensation flooded her pelvis, flowed out and made her limbs tremble, her skin tingle. She let out a shrill cry when she finished coming.

Moments later the front door slammed. A shout of “Damn it, Shane, why do you always leave your shit in my way?” interrupted their passion.

Mickie locked gazes with Shane. He flashed her a smirk then poked his head above the island they lay behind.

“Hey Hunter!” He waved and Mickie wilted.

“What the hell are you doing over there?”

The sound of Hunter’s voice drawing closer made Mickie scramble for her clothes as quietly as possible. But that bastard Shane locked a hand on her hip and kept her still. She squirmed, trying to free herself from his grip as she grasped for the hem of her tank top, sprawled on the floor only inches from her fingers.

She dug her nails into the soft, tender flesh of Shane’s inner thigh. He let out a yelp and dropped back beneath the island, letting his grip on her lessen as he did so.

“What the…?” came Hunter’s voice again.

Then her other stepbrother was standing in the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest as he cast a disapproving look between them both. Mickie froze on her knees in mid-reach for her tank top.

In many ways, Hunter was the exact opposite of his twin brother. Both were jaw-dropping handsome, in good shape. Both sported tattoos, although Hunter had fewer, and only one on his left bicep was slightly visible. Whereas Shane had a full left sleeve of tribal intertwined with images that held personal significance. An ouroboros peeked out from between stark black swirls. A wizard was inked just above his elbow, embedded in the wall of a melting castle.

Hunter’s hair was cut shorter, done in gelled spikes. His face was a far more serious mask of disapproval, compared to his brother’s impish ear to ear smile.

Shane snatched up his underwear and Hunter spoke again. His glare, full of quiet anger, zoned in on Mickie when he said, “What, fucking one of us wasn’t enough for you? And Dad thinks you’re the responsible one.”

Shane’s grin became a frown of confusion. He glanced from Mickie to his brother. “What’re you talking about?”

“Ask Mickie.” Hunter gave a bitter scoff before walking away, toward his bedroom.

Shane shot her a questioning glance.

Mickie sighed, felt her face flush. She yanked on her tank top and reached for her underwear. “We’ll talk about it another time,” she murmured, then quickly shimmied into her panties and shorts before she left the kitchen to talk to Hunter.

Shane followed after her. “Wait! What’s wrong with—”

She panicked as he drew nearer, fearing a confrontation between her twin stepbrothers. So Mickie slammed Hunter’s door in Shane’s face. She received a disgruntled “Hey!” from the other side, then Shane pounded on the wood. For good measure, she locked it.

Taking a deep breath, she faced Hunter. He’d been rummaging through one of his dresser drawers, but when he saw she wasn’t leaving he stopped, folded his arms over his t-shirt clad chest, and stared her down.

“Please don’t tell him,” she whispered. “At least, not right now. It’ll only complicate things more—”

He snorted in disgust. “Yeah, let’s protect Shane. Keep the truth from the precious little rock star. He’s so fragile.” He shook his head and stalked over to his bed, flopping down atop it. “But it’s no big deal I just caught you fucking him. It’s just Hunter, so who cares?”

She tried to swallow down her shame and guilt. “You know it’s not like that.” She walked over to the bed and sat on the edge. “I made a mistake, let Shane get to me just now …” She sighed. “Just like I did with you four years ago.”

He sat up. His frown deepened. “Oh, so I was a mistake?”

Mickie slapped her forehead and hated herself for her poor choice of words. “Ugh… Hunter, look, I’m sticking my foot in my mouth all over the place. I’m sorry. I’m really really sorry. For what you just saw. For what I just said.”

“Sure.” Hunter shrugged and avoided her eyes. His face and body were tense with anger. Then before he could continue, his cell phone rang. He seemed relieved for the interruption, snatching it up and answering quickly as he moved to the other end of the bedroom.

He spoke in hushed tones, and she bit her lip as she watched him. Hunter was the calmer of the two twins, and also the shy one. He wasn’t the lothario his brother was, mostly due to his withdrawn nature. Hunter didn’t see himself as some gorgeous stud. Whereas Shane was confident about his sexual nature, Hunter tried to downplay his. Mickie could relate to Hunter’s quiet, reserved disposition more, but she admitted she’d always been intrigued by her rock star brother’s flash and swagger.

But it had been Hunter, four years ago, who’d seduced her first. No, she’d seduced him as much as he had her. She had been as willing a participant as him.

It was the night of Hunter’s grad. He’d decided against the prom, saying it just wasn’t his thing. But after a beer and a spliff she’d smuggled from their dad’s secret stash, he’d revealed he didn’t ask anyone to go. He just couldn’t work up the courage. So Mickie had pulled him off the floor and told him she’d go with him.

“You can’t miss your prom, Hunter,” she’d told him, and she’d fished his old tux out of his closet. The last time he’d worn it was to the wedding of his dad and her mom, when he was fifteen.

“It’s a little tight,” he’d said, frowning at the way the jacket molded to his biceps.

Mickie hadn’t complained. It’s snugness outline the curve of his pecs nicely, showed off the way his waist tapered into a muscular ass and sculpted thighs.

“It looks fine,” she’d told him, but they never made it to his graduation dance. He’d asked her for a dance after she changed into a slinky red slip dress, stole a kiss, and they’d ended up in the same position as she and Shane, only there had been no one to stop their party.

Hunter pushed END on his phone and gave her a brief look with those icy blue eyes. They still glimmered with anger. “I have to go.” He brushed past her and unlocked the door. “Someone needs me.”

***

Sally Rollins, Hunter’s patrol partner, waited for him behind an abandoned Shop Easy. She said she’d found something big on her slimy bastard boyfriend, Trent Farrow. He was also an RCMP officer, and he treated Sally like shit, which pissed Hunter off to no end. But Sally wouldn’t leave him yet because she was afraid it would jeopardize their investigation. Hunter had countered she was jeopardizing her health by staying with Trent. But she said if she skipped out on him now he’d be watching her big time.

And since her and Hunter’s investigation of Trent was not official, she didn’t want to risk him discovering their off-the-clock observations. Because if Trent did, he’d turn them over to the police chief without so much as a backward glance. Then he’d skip town and move his cocaine operation. Still, Hunter wished she could get away from the asshole.

She slid in the front seat of his black Intrepid and he asked, “What’ve you got on Trent?”

“First, coffee.” She handed him a steaming paper cup from Tim Hortons.

He noticed the ugly, purple bruise on her wrist when she did so. Hunter touched it gently and gave her a look of concern. “You’ve got to get away from that asshole.”

Sally sighed and stared through the dusty windshield. “Yes, I know, Hunter. We’ve discussed this before.” Her lips drew in a thin, pale line when she paused. “Soon as we bust Trent I get outta there.”

He shook his head, put his coffee in the cup holder on the side of the driver’s side door. “You can’t wait that long. For chrissakes, he’s hurting you again.” His hand brushed over her cheek and she finally looked at him.

“Once we bust his ass, he’ll never touch me again.” She smiled and folded her hand over his. Then she grabbed her bag from the floor of the car and pulled out a plastic baggie. “And we’ll be able to nail him much sooner than we thought.”

Hunter took the baggie she held up and inspected the fine, white powder inside. It wasn’t much, but it was definitely enough to nab somebody on a minor possession charge.

“There’s a lot more where that came from,” Sally told him as she took a manila folder out of her purse. She opened it up and showed Hunter the paperwork. Apparently Sally’s corrupt cop boyfriend owned another house near the outskirts of the city, in a rural area that was sparsely populated. “He’s using it as a warehouse to store the coke. I found boxes full of cat shaped piggy banks, only they aren’t piggy banks at all, if you get my meaning.”