Off Limits: A Stepbrother MMA Romance (22 page)

“What will I find
when I touch your pussy, Jewel?” So close, his fingers played next
to my panties, inches away from my throbbing, slippery sex. “Will
you be wet for me?” He brushed my upper thighs and I whimpered,
desperate, knowing what he’d discover, needing him to find it.
“Will your pussy be soaking wet and ready for me?”

Finally, he slipped his
fingers up and drew them along the lace strip of my panties. I
moaned, long and low in my throat.

Groaning, he dropped
his head against my shoulder. I could feel the heaving labor of his
breaths, the coiled tension ripping through him. “Wet,” he
hissed, almost to himself, as if he couldn’t believe the treasure
he had found. “So fucking wet.”

He tore aside my
panties, ripping them right off of me. They didn’t put up much
protest, they were the kind designed to reveal more than they
covered.

“Oh God,” he
exhaled heavy into my hair, his fingers along my pussy, searching,
moving, stroking, taking my juices and spreading it across my petals,
touching me as if I were the most perfect creation he’d ever felt.
“You’re so wet and bare. For me.” With a growl of possession,
he sank his thick finger up inside of me.

“Tuck!” I called
out as he penetrated me, up inside the walls of my sex. Eyes closed,
head back against the wall, I could feel every inch of his large
finger, slowly easing out, then back up again, building, stoking. I
parted my legs more, wanting this, needing this so much I didn’t
know if I could stand up if he weren’t holding me there, pinning me
against the wall.

“So wet, Jewel.” He
kept his rhythm, slowly working me in and out, then bringing his
thumb to my swollen clit, starting to caress it, stroke it, press
against it. I started working with him, moving my hips to take more
of him in. I wanted more, more friction, more pressure and I bucked
against his hand.

“You want more,
Jewel?” His whispered voice, so hot and forbidden, making me
drenched. I moaned with need.

“Tell me, Jewel.”
He stroked me, still so deliberate and controlled though I started to
feel frantic, desperate, wild. I couldn’t take much more of this,
my entire body on fire, enflamed by his touch. “Tell me you need
more.”

“More, Tuck!” I
cried out, bucking against his hand. “Please more, I need more!”

“Yes,” he hissed,
victorious, giving me my reward, two fingers plunged up deep inside
the walls of my pussy.

“Ah! Oh!” I moaned.
I’d never felt anything so good. Nothing I’d ever done to myself
had ever brought me this high, this hot and crazy. Yet even as I
nearly went insane he kept his rhythm, stroking me slowly, in and out
while I shook and shuddered and thrust against him.

“Who makes you wet,
Jewel?” he whispered, wicked, in my ear.

In the darkness of the
pool house, just the two of us, I could confess. “You, Tuck.” It
felt so good.

“Say it, Jewel.” He
kept stroking me, in and out with his huge fingers, his thumb on my
clit, swirling, teasing, heating me. “Let me hear you tell me.”

He wanted me to give
in, to confess it all and right then I needed to. I couldn’t hold
back any more. “You make me wet, Tuck.”

He growled with
satisfaction, ownership. “Yes, Jewel. I make you wet.” And he did
exactly what he said, fucking me with his fingers as he worked my
clit, over and over, relentless, now with more pressure, faster and
harder. Sounds came from my throat, needy and helpless, the heat
inside me pooling and building.

“You’re mine,
Jewel. Whether you want it or not.” Panting, twisting, writhing, I
knew what he said was true. I couldn’t deny it. “Feel my fingers
up inside of you,” he commanded and I obeyed, shuddering. It felt
so good with him owning me, fucking me with his fingers, taking me.

In a low, demanding
voice he instructed, “Think about how good it’s going to feel
when it’s my cock. You’re tight and I’m going to stretch you.
But you’re going to take me all in, aren’t you, Jewel?”

“Yes!” I screamed,
mad with it, unable to stand how crazy his words made me, how much I
wanted what he just described. He plunged his two fingers up inside
me as he spoke and I could feel myself at the edge, shuddering,
quivering, about to let everything go as he said, “I’m going to
fuck you deep with my cock.”

“Tuck!” I cried
out, so ready, whimpering with need.

“Now come all over my
fingers,” Tuck commanded.

“Ah!” I screamed
out and Tuck took his hand from my wrists and wrapped it, hard,
around my mouth so I could scream like I needed to, unleashed, wild
as my orgasm erupted, bursting out, exploding all through my body
like fireworks shooting electricity into every inch of me. I shook
and bucked and cried out his name again and again, coming onto his
fingers, shattering, melting, my juices trickling down my thighs and
covering his hand.

“Jewel,” he groaned
as my waves slowly started to subside. He brought his fingers away
from my quivering mound, drawing them up to his mouth. Sticky and
glistening with my juices, he sucked them into his luscious mouth,
tasting me as if I were the finest delicacy in the world.

“Jewel.” He brought
his forehead down to my own and we stood in the dark, panting. I felt
disembodied, unaware of anything but him, our heat, melting together.

In a quieter voice, not
teasing or tempting or commanding me now, but confessing, he
whispered, “You kill me.”

Tuck

Sunday brunch with the
parents. I sat there hulking and frustrated, grunting responses to
the few questions my father sent my way. Jewel sat at the end of the
table looking skittish and fragile and fucking perfect. I wanted to
wrap her in my arms, haul her upstairs and spend the rest of the day
tasting her, biting into her, licking her, coaxing out those same
noises she’d made last night in the pool house.

Our parents were
leaving again tomorrow. They’d be in New York, mostly the Hamptons.
Seeming to delight in their impulsiveness, they told us they weren’t
sure when they’d be back, maybe a week but it could be more or
could be less.

Fucking great. I wanted
them out of the house, obviously, but never knowing when they’d be
back? That wouldn’t work for what I had planned. I wanted Jewel
stripped naked for days on end, helpless underneath me as I ate her,
fucked her. I wanted her screaming out wild, no hand over her mouth
so I could hear every last gasp of her desire, every pant of need. We
were going to explode and I wanted it full throttle, nothing held
back.

But Monday and Tuesday,
even with our parents out of the house, Jewel did her avoidance
thing. She didn’t want to be alone with me and she was right. I was
prowling around the house like a hungry panther, ready to grab her
the second she let her guard down.

It pissed me off, her
avoiding me, but I’d seen it before. She’d pull away, but she’d
come back. She always did. She didn’t want to, but she needed this
as much as I did. Something this strong would not be denied.

Lucky for her, I wasn’t
around that often either. My big exhibition fight was in five days,
on Saturday night. I needed to focus, pour myself into training.

Wednesday morning I
found her in the kitchen, making her yogurt and berries. She wore
yoga tights and a jog bra, her hair piled up on top of her head. From
the way I’d seen her twist, I knew she was flexible. Her legs would
spread so wide for me. They could probably go right up over her head
while I fucked her hard.

Startled, the first
thing she said when she saw me was, “I was just heading out.”

“I have a fight
Saturday.” I hadn’t had a chance to invite her yet. I wanted her
by my side, before and after, and right out where I could see her by
the cage during it all.

“This Saturday?”
She turned around, eyes wide. “Is it the big one?” I nodded in
confirmation. “Are you OK? Have you been training for it this
week?”

“I’ve been training
for it all summer.” I gave her a crooked smile. She was pretty cute
when she let herself worry over me.

“What if our parents
get home before then? Will your dad try to stop you?”

“He doesn’t have a
clue.” I brushed off her concern. My first amateur MMA fight over a
year and a half ago I’d been nervous, looking over my shoulder,
somehow expecting my old man to come charging into the gym and call
the fight off. Since then I’d realized how off his radar this all
was. It was one thing if I started an underground fight club at
school. That threatened his world. This was a whole different planet
entirely, one in such a wildly remote orbit he didn’t even know it
existed.

“But doesn’t your
name ever come up? Like the last exhibition fight when you won?”

“Crusher won,” I
reminded her. “The Helmsworth name doesn’t come near the cage.”
I paused, giving her a smile. “My father wouldn’t hear of it.”
She smiled back at me. I don’t know why, but I felt like she got
me, the way no one ever had. Maybe no one else ever would.

Then she slipped out
the door to her marine mammals. And I pounded it out at the gym,
taking everything out on my sparring partners who wished like hell
they’d been matched up with another guy instead of me. My drive
knew no bounds.

Thursday, dinnertime, I
came home to Jewel and a mousy little friend of hers cooking in the
kitchen. Like she thought another person there between us could keep
her safe.

“Hi!” Her friend
left a trail of drool out of her mouth as she stood there, marveling
over me, shirtless and sweaty from a workout. Jewel barely looked
around, annoyed at my presence. I’d see if I could get her
attention.

“Hey, how are you?”
I reached over and wrapped her friend’s hand in mine. “What’s
your name?”

She looked down where I
touched her as if she’d never seen hands before. She looked up.
“Huh?”

“What’s your name?”
I repeated, patient. She wore thick glasses and held her hair back
with barrettes, the kind you sometimes saw little kids wearing.

“Mu..fa..a.” Her
tongue seemed to be thick.

“Maria,” Jewel
snapped, stirring the pasta on the stove with vigor. “Her name’s
Maria. I think the sauce over here needs your attention, Maria.”

Maria paid her no mind.
Her eyes traveled down the length of my chest, making their way past
my pecs, down my abs to the v at my waistband. Poor thing, she didn’t
seem to know what had hit her.

“I’m Tuck,” I
offered, giving her a smile. Her eyes widened as she saw it, looking
shocked as if she hadn’t known I could do that, too. “How do you
know Jewel?”

“We work together,”
Jewel answered quickly. “Now don’t you have something you need to
go do, Tuck? Like put on a shirt?”

“No, he doesn’t
need to do that,” Maria answered, shaking her head slowly, rapt in
her admiration.

Later on after I’d
showered and, yes, put on a shirt, I headed back down and found Jewel
by herself, sitting poolside with a glass of sparkling water.

“Maria’s coming
back,” she warned me as I was about to sit next to her. “She’s
just in the bathroom.”

“She’ll be sorry
she missed me.”

“So full of
yourself.” She shook her head.

“What, am I wrong?”
She couldn’t deny it. “So are you coming to my fight Saturday?”

“Yes,” she
answered, suddenly sounding shy.

“I’ll have a car
take us over, five o’clock.”

“Really, together?”
She looked at me, surprised. I nodded.

“And how about
tomorrow night? Will you be around?”

She shrugged, so
casual. “I might go see a movie.”

“With Mike?” I
asked, tensing up.

“Maybe.”

Like hell she was.
“Tomorrow night, let’s play some poker, Jewel.” She looked up
at me and met my eyes, heat there the same as me.

Maria returned and
stumbled when she saw me. I gave her my seat and bid them good night.
I’d see Jewel tomorrow.

§

Friday night when I
came home she was in the pool. Swimming laps, looking sleek and
supple, her hair cascaded down around her, wet and long like a
freaking mermaid.

I stood at the side as
she came up for air.

“Oh!” She brought
her hand to her chest. “I didn’t see you come in!” She wore a
one-piece suit, I could see through the water. Of course she had a
one-piece. A sensible swimming tank had never looked so good. I could
see her breasts fill out the top, mashed together, her cleavage there
asking for my tongue.

“Poker, eight
o’clock,” I told her, leaving to go get cleaned up. I had a woman
to seduce tonight. She seemed to like me sweaty from a workout as
much as she did freshly shaven and in a tux, and I liked that about
her. But tonight I wanted to bring my A game, reel her in, work her
up until she was begging for me. She was a virgin, after all. I’d
claim her, take her, but I wanted to savor it. The end result would
be the same, but tonight I’d make her feel treasured, worshipped,
adored. I’d see if I couldn’t give her the best orgasm of her
life.

Eight o’clock I was
waiting for her down in the living room, shuffling the deck of cards.
She showed up, shy and pretty in a light t-shirt and yoga pants. I
liked how she’d clearly taken some time with her appearance, but
not too much, like she could still act casual. Like I hadn’t had my
fingers up inside of her making her come last weekend. I’d let her
play pretend. For now.

“Hey,” she said,
sitting down beside me on the couch. I could see her taking me in,
the crisp clean shirt, the fresh pair of jeans. I wasn’t dressed
for a black tie gala, but I’d cleaned up for her and she knew it. I
could smell her next to me, lavender and Jewel, her hair freshly
washed and curling down her shoulders in rich, auburn waves.

“Are you ready?” I
asked, shuffling again.