Step Brother: Off Limits (2 page)

“Sauternes. My favorite dessert wine.”

I knew the voice before I turned around. The French accent strong, the voice as sultry as the climate, I knew Marie was the source of the wine commentary. “
Bonjour
, Marie,” I said, using my extensive French vocabulary. I straightened, leaving the basket on the floor, one of the bottles of my recent selection still in hand. “This is sweet?” I asked.

“Oh, yes,” she purred. “Sauternes is sweet, rich, and a sensual delight, especially with some foie gras.”

Marie was trouble with a capital T. She never seemed dressed up, but she was always perfectly put together, petite, elegant, and stylish, from the careless twist of her hair up in a messy knot, to the full skirt that didn’t quite conceal her knees. She was beautiful, and she knew it.

“I was looking for a dry white. Guess I’ll put these back.”

“Oh, if you’ve never had Sauternes, it’s an experience you should have … at least once in your life.”

“I don’t really drink white wine,” I told her, picking up a paler colored white that I recognized as one Laura had enjoyed.

“What a pity. I thought you might join me for a glass of wine this evening around six o’clock. We can watch the fishing boats return to the village, and you can tell me all about Las Vegas.”

Her eyes sparkled with the prospect of hearing about Sin City, and her fresh-faced, tangible sensuality was just more than I could resist. I couldn’t wait for Tatum forever. At some point, I needed to move on.

“You’re on. I’ll meet you for a glass of wine.”

“If you like, we could even have dinner,” she said, not the least bit concerned about being too forward.

I’d been so caught up in all the angst over Tatum, I realized the prospect of simply having dinner and conversation with a beautiful woman sounded like heaven. “Dinner sounds wonderful. I’ll see you at six.”

Marie stood on her tiptoes and kissed both my cheeks. “Until then,” she said, spinning on her heel and treating me to a mesmerizing view of her swishing skirt as she left the store empty-handed. Beautiful, French, single, and interested. That was all I needed, at least for a few hours. I resolved to forget Tatum and enjoy the evening with Marie.

As I walked back to the house, I wondered what Tatum was doing right that minute. I did the math on the time difference and figured she was either at the gym or perhaps getting ready for work. The thought of her sweaty and tired at the gym didn’t help me in my desire to forget about her for a little while. The thought of her in the shower didn’t help much either. I wondered how her new job was going—if she’d started dating someone from her work, if she was working on any interesting cases. I hoped the pictures of the two of us in the rental car in Tahoe hadn’t caused her any problems at work, and I wished I could have been there to help her manage the fallout and deal with the inevitable questions our parents would have asked her.

I wanted to be there with her, but she wouldn’t let me. She’d completely shut me out, and I was tired of calling, only to get her voicemail. I’d tried. I really had. Short of physically following her around, there really wasn’t much more I could have done, and at some point, I was going to have to move on.

That was going to happen tonight. I was moving on with Marie. I didn’t expect her to be the love of my life, but I knew I could have a good time with her. I was ready for a little fun.

I begged off dinner with my dad, showered, drank a glass of wine, and headed down to the little cafe right on the beach. I’d thrown on broken-in jeans and a fitted black T-shirt. Every time I went out, my tattoos got a lot of attention, and I figured I might as well capitalize on what made me different from all the other guys in the village. I’d picked up lot of color at the beach, and I knew I looked good. I suspected Marie would agree.

She was waiting at the best table on the terrace, right at the corner, with a perfect view of the small fishing boats coming back to shore, fishermen folding nets and weighing their catches. I bent to kiss both her cheeks, and I could smell the slightest hint of musky perfume that made me wonder what she wore beneath the sheer white cotton dress. She smelled like sex, and she looked like perfection.

“You look lovely,” I said as I sat down next to her, our backs to the restaurant so we could watch the housewives and chefs who emerged the same time every day to haggle for fish fresh from the boat.

“
Merci
.” Her smile was enigmatic, sexy.

“Looks like we’ll have fish for dinner if we want it,” I said, pointing at Madame Roisset down at the water’s edge.

The owner of the cafe we currently occupied, Madame Roisset made the walk to the water’s edge every day but Sunday. Her chef husband trusted no one else to select his fish, and her notorious bargaining skills were prime entertainment day in and day out. We watched, laughing, as she held a wriggling fish by its tail, her finger pointed in accusation at a fisherman. His tired expression told the story of the tirades he endured every evening when it came time for the tiny, stern cafe owner to purchase her fish.

I turned my attention back to Marie. “Wine?” I asked.

“Of course.”

I waved down the waiter—the same one I had every time I’d dined there—and ordered two glasses of red wine.

“Your French is improving,” Marie said, smiling through her long, dark lashes.

I shrugged. “I’m a little embarrassed at how little I’ve learned in a month. I should really try to pick up some more, but everyone here speaks such good English that I haven’t really had to learn much.”

Marie took the glass of wine from the waiter. “I could give you some private lessons, if you like.”

I couldn’t keep my gaze from traveling down her throat to the deep V of her dress, where I could see the curve of her breast. “Okay,” I said, trying to keep my cool. The fact that I hadn’t been with a woman since Tatum made it hard to control my desire. I needed a woman, and Marie was a perfect choice. “Let’s start tonight.”

We drank two glasses of wine before we even started dinner, and by the time we finished the bottle I ordered to go with the fish, I was feeling no pain. Tatum who? I was at least trying to put her out of my mind. We had after-dinner cocktails, and as Marie moved her chair closer to mine, between the sunset and her hand creeping up my thigh, I was ready to take her right on the table. I was sure she was deliberately giving me glimpses of her lace bra beneath her dress, and when she went to the ladies’ room, I could clearly see the outline of a skimpy thong. I couldn’t wait to get her out of it.

When she returned, I stood up, fueled by lust and wine, and took her face in my hands, kissing her in full view of everyone on the terrace. “Let’s go. Now.” I took her hand and pulled her with me, pointing out the money I’d left on the table when I caught the waiter’s eye.

As we rounded the corner to turn onto the street behind the cafe, I looked up and down the deserted lane, deciding to seize an opportunity. I pushed Marie up against the old stone wall along the sidewalk, and I stepped close. “I want you, Marie. I don’t care about language lessons. I want you out of those clothes and in bed.”

She smiled up at me in the dusk. “And you can have me.”

She pulled my face down and kissed me, and I couldn’t control myself. She wound her arms around my neck, and I wanted to lose myself in her body. I picked her up. She wrapped her legs around me, and I pushed her back against the wall, my erection straining at my jeans. I knew she could feel it. She muttered something in French, and I slid one hand in between our bodies to unbutton the top of her dress. I pushed the dress aside, and the sheer white cotton of her bra was a stark contrast against her deeply tanned skin. I could see her rose-colored nipple through the cotton, and I leaned down. I licked her through the bra, and her nipple hardened beneath the now transparent fabric. I watched her face as I fondled her, her head leaned back against the stone wall as I squeezed hard enough to make her cry out.

“Reed, take me here,” she whispered, and that was all I needed to hear.

I shifted my body against hers so I could slide a hand beneath her dress. I pushed aside her thong and slid one finger inside her, glad to discover she was wet and ready for me. All I could think about was burying my cock inside her, fucking her hard against the stone wall. She arched her back, moving to press her hips against my erection.

I knew we were in a gossipy small village, but I couldn’t stand it. I kept her pressed against the wall as I reached down to unbutton my jeans. “Marie, I’m going to fuck you. I’m going to fuck you in the street, and then I’m going to take you home and fuck you in your bed.”

She rattled something off in rapid French, but whatever she said, it sounded like she had no complaints about my plans. I looked at her, her dark hair clinging to the rough stone, her half-unbuttoned dress with the evidence of my mouth on her breast, the nipple slightly reddened through the wet cotton. I could smell her scent on my fingers as I reached up to pinch her nipple again, and I pulled my hard cock from my jeans, putting the head at her opening, the thong simply pushed aside. I was just about to bury myself deep inside her when a bright flash of light pulled me back to reality.

I turned and saw the very last thing I would have imagined. A photographer stood at the end of the lane, shooting photo after photo, and I knew exactly how bad the situation looked. My heart sank, and as I lowered Marie to the ground and buttoned up my jeans, my first thought was of Tatum.

I knew I shouldn’t do it, but I couldn’t resist. I clicked on the headline and waited for the story and photos to load.

“Rock Star’s Son Caught in Passionate Encounter.”

I looked around the lunch room to make sure no one else was looking my way as the pictures of Reed and a beautiful French woman filled my laptop’s screen. After the mess with the pictures in Tahoe, I certainly didn’t want to dredge up any more interest in my personal life. When I’d first returned to work after my disastrous attempt at a romantic getaway with my stepbrother and our newlywed parents, I could instantly tell who knew about the mortifying stories and pics that had been splashed all over the tabloids and celebrity gossip websites.

Knowing I just had to grit my teeth and tough it out, I told myself that at some point, the men in the office would stop picturing me half naked, sitting on top of Reed having sex in a rental car. I’d briefly considered quitting my job, but I’d worked too hard to get where I was. I’d landed a position at one of the top legal firms in Las Vegas, and I wasn’t going to let my temporary lack of judgment keep me from achieving my professional goals.

Garrett had let me hole up for a few days, drowning my sorrows in merlot and Häagen-Dazs, but he hadn’t let me slip too far into my antisocial pity party. He’d badgered me until I’d signed up for a new bootcamp class, and the sore muscles every morning let me know that while my personal life might be all fucked up, at least I was going to look good.

The article about Reed didn’t say much about the woman whose legs had been wrapped around him, but I did learn that he’d spent about a month in some little French seaside village. I was home trying to put the pieces of my life back together—dealing with daily bullshit from my dad and Reed’s mom—and he was lounging around in the sun and fucking French women.

I tried to tell myself that I wasn’t jealous and bitter, but I couldn’t make myself believe it.

My laptop chimed with an incoming email. I assumed it was work related, but I clicked on the mail icon and rolled my eyes when I saw it was from my stepmother.

Tatum, darling.
(Did she not realize how ridiculous she sounded?)
Donald and I are having a little cocktail hour tomorrow evening for a few of our biggest supporters, and we’d love it if you could attend and help us present a united front. Your welcome
(apparently, her grammar lessons didn’t extend to the written word)
to bring a suitable guest if you wish
(meaning someone other than her son),
and your father has also made arrangements for a very nice young man to provide you with some company if you prefer.
(What—did I need a male escort now?)
Please let us know if you can make it. Kisses
(gag),
Tina
.

Part of me wanted to send a scathing reply, but I knew in the long run I should just be nice. If my dad and Tina were an item for the long haul, I was going to have to deal with it, and being gracious was more likely to keep things civil. I dashed off a reply letting her know I’d be there solo and I was looking forward to seeing them both.

I felt like I needed a shower after I sent the message.

Looking at the picture of Reed and the French woman, I decided I also needed a spa day, or at least a few spa hours. I closed my laptop and went to see my boss. He’d acted a little odd when all the tabloid trash had come out, and while I still felt like he was mentally undressing me when we talked, he’d seemed really supportive of my father and his campaign. All I could figure was he saw some advantage to having the daughter of the mayor on his staff. Given the fact that I’d seriously been concerned about losing my job in the wake of the media attention, I was grateful he kept me on at all, even if he did have an ulterior motive.

I knocked on the open door and stuck my head inside. “Hey, Brad, you have a minute?”

“For you? Absolutely. Come in.”

I stepped just inside the door. “I’m ready for the depositions tomorrow morning for the Mirage lawsuit. My dad has an important event tomorrow, and I’m wondering if I can take a few hours off today to prepare for it.”

“Absolutely. You’ve done good work here, Tatum, and the partners all agree your father’s campaign could be great for business if it’s successful. Take the rest of the afternoon off, if you like.”

“Thanks, Brad. I appreciate it.” I turned to leave.

“Hey, Tatum, if you need company at any of these events, just let me know. I’d be happy to go with you, you know. I’m a networking pro.”

I fixed a smile on my face that I hoped looked sincere. “I appreciate the offer, and I’ll be sure to let you know.”