Off Limits: A Stepbrother MMA Romance (20 page)

“It won’t be!”
she cried. I wondered if she thought someone had called out ‘ready,
set, action’ and started filming. She was clearly going for an
Oscar with her performance.

“I’m not sure you
heard her correctly.” Jewel looked at me, deadpan. “We’re here
trying to commemorate the storming of a fortress that freed political
prisoners and launched the abolition of feudalism. How are we
supposed to do that without flowers?”

I spit out the water
I’d been drinking. That girl had a mouth on her. But all that
sarcasm sailed right over her mother’s head.

“I know,” Candice
agreed. “It’s a disaster.” She sniffed. “Unless,” she
looked up, tears streaming down her face, ready for her close up.
“Unless you two can help.”

“What do you want,
Mom?” Jewel had clearly been ready for this moment.

“Well.” Candice
sniffed again dramatically, but bravely drew herself up, marshaling
her strength. “The flowers are all going to be delivered at 2, but
I have to be at the salon at 1. If you two could take the lead on
setting out all the arrangements…”

“Wait, the flowers
are going to be delivered at 2?” Jewel asked, confused. “I
thought the florist cancelled?”

“Well, the flowers
are still being delivered. But the florist I hired to decorate and
arrange the poolside setting cancelled.”

That was what all this
fuss was about? “I can move around some flowers,” I said.

“You can?” Candice
rose up, joy glistening in her eyes. She was a real piece of work.

“We got it, Mom.”
Jewel rolled her eyes again and headed back into the house. My guess
was she could only take her mother in small doses. I got that.

“Two o’clock!”
Candice called after her. “They’ll give you a diagram.”

§

The flower arrangements
were no joke. Some stood almost as tall as me with huge reedy, spiky
things sprouting out from giant pots. I needed a dolly.

“A little to the
left.” Jewel had a map on a clipboard and was giving me directions.
But she was having a hard time with it because she kept laughing. The
plants were practically attacking me, leaves getting my eyes and
mouth as I tried to wheel them around.

“What the hell is
this shit?” I asked, trying to move my face to the side.

“It’s so perfect!”
Jewel collapsed laughing. “They’re so hideous.”

I grunted, setting the
pot down where I hoped it belonged. “She couldn’t have gone with
regular flowers?”

“Candice always needs
to make a splash.” We both stood and surveyed the monstrosity. It
looked like crap someone had gathered from the woods after a large
forest fire. I bet it had cost a fortune.

“Let’s go get
fifteen more!” Jewel declared, turning around and marching over to
the grand entrance of our Bel Air estate. It had a wide, circular
driveway, the kind designed to accommodate a few hundred party guests
and the required valets. The delivery vans had left all of the floral
arrangements out front. I’d figured some others would pitch in,
Candice had a full staff here setting things up, but everyone seemed
to have their marching orders complete with an army-commander style
organizer barking instructions through a microphone attached to a
headset. She clearly didn’t realize Jewel and I as Family of the
Manor. She started giving us orders, too, telling us to pick up the
pace and get this place organized like it was a matter of life and
death.

I’d seen this kind of
shit before, many, many times growing up, but it had always seemed
stupid to me. My father always found women who ate it up, though,
eager to throw his money around on lavish parties. And I guessed I
couldn’t get too high up on my horse. I’d made the most of plenty
of them, open bar, girls looking for a good time. I’d always been
happy to oblige.

I knew I could blow
this off. I didn’t have to do any manual labor for my new crazy
stepmother. But Jewel was another story. I wanted to spend some time
with her. So I put my shoulder to the wheel and hauled those
arrangements to the back, one after another, Jewel bossing me around.
She’d tell me to move it over an inch, no over there, fucking with
me. I let her do it, let her think she was in charge. I liked
watching her move, let her walk in front of me as we headed to the
front entrance. Her ass in yoga pants was a thing of beauty. I could
watch that TV channel for hours, the way her hips swayed, the soft
swell of her ass cheeks, perfectly round and inviting for a bite.

Once we moved on to the
smaller arrangements, I decided it was time to strip down. The L.A.
sun was out as usual, temp hitting the high 80s, and I’d worked up
a sweat. The t-shirt came off.

I stood next to Jewel
as I did it and took my time peeling it off. I wanted her to take a
good, long look. Sure enough, after I balled it up and tossed it onto
a nearby bench, when I checked back in she was staring at me just the
way I liked, mouth slightly parted, eyes a bit glazed.

“You can touch, you
know. You don’t have to just look.” I flexed one of my biceps to
tease her and was rewarded with her eyes growing bigger as she bit
down on her lip.

But she tore her gaze
away. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she chided me, but her voice
sounded a little breathless.

“Are you going to
send me to detention?”

“What?”

“You sound like a
school teacher. You need to loosen up, relax, live a little.”

She rolled her eyes.
“Says the guy who’s never done anything but party.”

“I used to be that
way. Not anymore.”

She paused, looking at
me with those searching green eyes. “You have been working hard
this summer.”

“You think?” I’d
done nothing but work hard, morning, noon and night, training my body
and mind. No booze, no drugs, no sex, not even any late nights. I
sounded like Jewel.

We kept at it, moving
flowers, checking each other out, bickering. I could feel the tension
building between us like it always did.

“Can’t you put on a
shirt?” she fumed, exasperated, as I stretched in front of her like
a jungle cat.

“Why, is it bothering
you?” I gave her a wicked grin, my thumb looped at the elastic
waistband of my athletic shorts. So easy to ease down my hips. Her
eyes tracked down to my thumb and I could almost feel her thinking
the same thing.

But she whispered,
“No.”

“Then don’t worry
about it.”

The caterers arrived
and set up shop, building four separate serving stations. A couple of
the waitresses were eyeing me and I winked at them. Jewel gave a
disgusted groan.

“Jealous?” I asked.

“As if.”

“You don’t want me
looking at other girls. But you’ve barely been home all week.” I
toted yet another arrangement toward the pool deck. “Who’d you
stay with?” I finally asked the question I’d had on my mind. I
didn’t want it to be Mike.

“Why do you want to
know?” she threw back, cagey.

“Were you with
another guy?”

She huffed with
exasperation. “Like you’re not sleeping around with those… ring
girls.” She spat out the words.

I eased down a vase of
flowers and turned to her, stepping close so I could look straight in
her eyes. “I haven’t been with anyone all summer.”

She looked down and
fidgeted with the clipboard like she didn’t know what to do with
her fingers. I’d give her something to do. Her t-shirt clung to her
breasts, molding around her feminine curves and swells. I could smell
her, standing close, and it practically made me feel drunk.

“I was at my friend
Maria’s,” she whispered.

Murmuring low, I told
her, “there's only one girl I'm interested in.”

“Hey there!” One of
the waitresses came over to flirt. She smiled up at me, oblivious to
the fact that she was interrupting. “It’s so hot out.” She
fanned herself and openly admired my bare chest, glistening in the
sunlight. “I thought you might want something to cool off.” She
held up a Popsicle.

I took it from her.
“Thanks. Do you have one for Jewel, too?”

Her face fell and she
flicked a nasty look toward her competition. “Yeah, sure.” She
turned to go get one.

I turned my attention
back to Jewel. It hadn’t really ever left, and her eyes still
searched me, riveted. “Why have you stopped partying, Tuck?” She
looked like she was desperate to get to know me better. I hadn’t
felt that too much before. A lot of girls were desperate to get with
me, hang with my father’s fortune or bag a hot new MMA champ. But I
hadn’t met too many who really wanted to get to know me.

“I’m training to be
a pro fighter. I have to take that seriously.”

She nodded, her green
eyes taking me in, seeming to understand more than I was saying.

“And I needed to make
some changes,” I added. “Someone once told me I was a spoiled
rich daddy's boy.”

She flushed, tilting
her head down at the memory. She had been harsh.

“I needed to hear
it,” I reassured her.

The waitress brought
Jewel a Popsicle, practically shoving it into her hands.

“Thanks,” Jewel
said to her back as she’d already left.

In the hot July sun,
our pops began melting almost instantly. We started in on them,
licking and sucking. A trickle of red juice dribbled down Jewel’s
chin.

“Here, you’ve got—”
I reached out with a finger and swiped her skin, then brought the
sweet juice to my tongue. Her gaze fixed on my mouth, watching me
suck. Nearly in a trance, she brought out her tongue and licked,
sucking gently with a look in her eyes that got me instantly hard.
She wasn’t thinking about that pop any more. She was thinking about
licking and sucking me. I watched her take the Popsicle into her
mouth, swirl her tongue around it, then draw it in between her
perfect pink lips. Her eyes burned me with heat and more juice
traveled down at the corner of her mouth.

“Let me,” I
murmured, leaning down and bringing my tongue to her sweetness. Slow
and deliberate, I licked at the corner of her mouth. Her lips parted
instantly, inviting mine.

“Yo! Flowers!” The
Commander barked at us. “Keep it moving! There’s more to go!”
We broke apart, panting. For now. But that night, I’d come back for
more.

Jewel

The whisper-weight,
slippery silk of the dress hugged my skin, melting along every curve.
I’d taken a long, hot bath earlier that evening using salts and
rubbing my skin in leisurely circles with a loofah. Now it felt soft
and inviting to the touch.

I'd never worn anything
like this dress before. There wasn't much to it, just a simple tie at
the top. Backless, it dipped down low along the small of my back. A
light band of silk stretched across my rear, then ended shortly after
to reveal my long legs up to mid-thigh. The front had a V, dipping
low, revealing cleavage even though I wore no bra.

I’d bought the dress
on a whim and still couldn’t fully believe I’d done it, or that I
honestly planned to wear it out tonight, in public, to the party.
That afternoon I’d careened wildly down the freeway on the hunt for
something to wear. Thanks to my mother, I knew exactly where to go.
The boutique wasn't cheap, but their killer inventory plus a credit
card did the trick. I clearly wasn’t the first woman in L.A. who’d
showed up in their shop late on a Saturday afternoon, frantically
needing to look just right for a party that night. The salespeople
knew how to hook me up. They even had a salon next door, how’s that
for planning?

On impulse, I ducked
in. The dress left nothing to the imagination. I knew I couldn’t
wear my usual granny panties, so I’d bought a lacy whisper of a
thong. Twenty minutes later I walked out of the salon, feeling
naughty and somewhat shocked at what I’d done yet again. I’d gone
completely bare.

Who was this woman
before me in the mirror, the bombshell with the killer curves and red
hair? It must be the same sexpot who’d given a blowjob to a
Popsicle earlier that day. What the fuck was wrong with me? I was
acting crazy, as if I were in heat, completely worked up and
desperate for Tuck, his hands, his lips, his body.

I slipped into some
high-heeled sandals, also new that day, and decided to twist my hair
up into a jeweled clip. I let a few tendrils artfully escape down to
my bare shoulders. I could imagine Tuck reaching up and undoing it,
unbinding my hair and untying my dress.

But I looked in the
mirror and promised myself I wouldn't let anything happen between us
tonight. I wouldn't let him touch me. And I’d keep away from all
popsicles. Maybe I could find a cute guy to talk to? That would
occupy my time.

Plus, bonus, it might
make Tuck jealous. A wicked smile crept across my face. I wanted him
to want. I had to watch girls drool all over him all the time. Those
waitresses today had practically jumped him right in front of me.
Maybe it was time for a little payback? Tonight, I wanted him to
drool over me. I'd never felt this kind of power before. I’d tamped
it down, frightened of what it could do, but tonight I wanted to let
it out. I wanted to torture him the way he tortured me, let him yearn
and look but not touch.

I knew I was acting
crazy. Earlier that week I’d run away to Maria’s, crashing on her
couch to avoid even seeing him. Thankfully she had a million
roommates and no one even seemed to notice I was there. But now here
I was, fantasizing about making him want me, hoping he’d lose his
mind over seeing me in this dress. I see-sawed back and forth,
teetering hot and cold, right in the middle, four weeks into the
summer, four weeks left to go. I didn’t know what would happen
next.

Downstairs, when my mom
saw me she squealed. "You look so pretty!" I smiled, if a
little rueful. She’d waited twenty long years to say that to me.

"I went to that
boutique on Robertson. The one you showed me."