Hard Fought (A Stepbrother Warriors Novel) (2 page)

Chapter Two

I stare at him out of the corner of my eye as he pockets the
Givenchy products from the toiletries bag that Air France provides. He looks up
and catches me staring.

"Sorry," I say, turning to look out the window as
the buildings around Paris pull away as the plane rapidly ascends.

"I thought my mom would like them," he explains
over the engine. "My sister's too much of a tomboy."

"How old is she?"

"Nineteen last month."

"When was the last time you saw her?"

"Why?"

"Well, for girls, eighteen, nineteen...that's when you
start to really become a woman. Sorry. I mean, I'm sure she'll always be your
little sister. So?"

"Um, I saw her for a couple weeks almost a year ago. Or
last month, actually. It's been about a month." I raise my eyebrows at
him. "She saw me a month or so ago. That's what they told me. I wasn't
awake yet."

I blush. "Sorry. That was rude of me."

"No. Most people would have asked me a lot more
questions by now. Other questions. Not about my sister."

"I always wished I had a sister. Would have been nice
to have another woman in the house." I pause. "That's the moment when
most people start asking
me
questions." He just smiles like the
sphinx. "My brother's two years older than me. He's great, but...you
know..."

"A boy."

"Exactly." The plane levels out and the engines
quiet. At the front of the cabin, Luc hands out lunch menus.

"Going home for a visit? Or for good?"

I sigh. "I don't know. 'For good' sounds so final. But
I guess that's what I'm doing. Trying to make a fresh start of it, that kind of
thing."

"No drinking."

"No drinking, no—" I stop. I almost revealed my
no-more-men policy, but I'm giving myself until after this plane ride to enact
it. Thankfully, Luc stops at our row and hands us the menus. "I'll take
the steak salad, please."

"Same. Can't believe there's steak up here," he
adds to me as Luc leaves. "You should taste what passes for food in
economy."

"Oh, I know," I reply. He raises his eyebrows at
me, and it takes me a moment to catch on as to why. "How would I know? Is
that what you're thinking?" He shrugs. "You're a man of few words. I
don't know why that loosens my tongue, but it does..." I take a deep
breath. "Alright, I guess it's safe to tell you about this. It's not like
you're going to go run and tell my family...I left college a couple years ago
to follow a man to Europe. The relationship fell apart pretty quickly, but I
was too embarrassed to go crawling back to my father for help. So I lied and
said I'd gotten this wonderful job at an internet start-up that gives
micro-loans to abused women. I really laid it on thick, I know. They thought I
was living this fancy, successful life, but actually I've been working in a
bakery. I still managed to travel around Europe some when I had enough saved
up, though, so I have tasted the economy food. But after a couple years of
spinning my wheels...I didn't know where I was going. And Thanksgiving is this
week, and the thought of spending another one on the Continent just sounded so
depressing...so I dug out my old Amex, the one connected to my father's account
that's only for emergencies, and bought a plane ticket home."

"Maybe everyone should have to live below the poverty
line for a little while," he says quietly. "I'm sure it would change
some perspectives."

"Well, I don't want to have to knead another ball of
dough for the rest of my life. Though at least it gave me some exercise. There
aren't really any gyms in Paris, isn't that funny?"

"What's this thing?" he asks as his elbow bumps
against the edge of the console between us. He fumbles with it for a second
until I reach over and pull up on it.

"It's an individual movie screen, see? You can adjust
the height like this," I demonstrate, moving it up and down for him.

"They don't all play the same thing?" he asks,
looking around the cabin.

"No," I smile. "There's a menu. You get to
choose." He leans forward, pressing buttons. "You have fun. I'm going
to take a nap," I say, taking the sleep mask out of the toiletries bag.
"If Luc comes by, will you ask him to just leave the salad?"

"Who's Luc?"

"The flight attendant," I explain, settling back
into my seat and reaching for the lever to lean the chair back. I go all the way
flat and then loosen my seat belt a little, turning onto my side. I can never
fall asleep on my back.

"Sleep well," I hear him say as I pull the mask
over my eyes. I smile. I only got a few hours sleep last night, and I quickly
feel myself drift off.

When I wake up again, I drowsily reach for my mask and push
it up onto my forehead. I blink in confusion. I'm looking at a devastatingly
handsome man just a foot away from me. His eyes open.

"What time is it?" he asks groggily.

"I don't know."

"Got tired just after you passed out," he says,
yawning.

"I forgot where I was for a second there," I
admit, pulling the lever on my seat so my chair moves back upright. "You
didn't watch anything?" I ask, glancing out of the small windows at the
clouds. It's tough to tell, but I'd guess it's late afternoon.

"Was going to watch one of those Avengers movies, but I
fell asleep."

"Oh, I haven't seen those."

"Want to watch?"

"What, together?"

"On our own screens."

"At the same time."

"Exactly."

"Alright," I acquiesce with a smile. I pull my
screen out of its hiding place and click to the right screen. I glance over at
him, and see his finger poised above the screen, waiting. I nod, and we both
tap at the same time. I pull my headphones out as the production company logos fly
onscreen, and then dig a blanket out of the seat pocket in front of me. Without
asking, I shake it out and pull it over both of our legs. I love it when men do
that, so I figure it probably works both ways.

I settle back, leaning slightly toward him. It's nice, this
feeling of coziness, and the butterflies in my stomach. Just two anonymous
people, watching a movie together hundreds of feet above the earth.

Chapter Three

"I liked it," I say with a smile as I pull my
earbuds out. "Not really sure about the guy with the arrows or Scarlett
Johansson...I mean, they don't have any superpowers. At least Iron Man's got
his suit."

"At the end of the day, if you had to choose one of
them to be saved by, you'd choose Thor, right? He's an actual god."

"Exactly. Followed by Captain America," I add.
"Or why doesn't Iron Man just make those other two suits like his? They'd
still be assassins, but they'd have suits," I add. letting my leg fall
against his under the blanket. I could feel the heat from his body throughout
the movie, and now my body is practically humming with desire. I feel like I
used to in high school, when my boyfriend at boarding school and I used to sit
in the common room and snuggle together while we watched TV.

"You know, it's strange. I don't even know your
name," he says, leaning over the console and resting his forearms on it as
he clasps his hands together.

"Why don't we keep it that way?" I murmur,
distracted by the sight of his huge hands, the knuckles covered in scars. He
cocks his head at me ever so slightly. I lean over the edge, letting my fingers
crawl inches away from his skin. "Like I said earlier, I'm going for a
clean start. When the plane touches down, that's the start of a new life for
me. But until then...why not take full advantage of our time together?"

The corners of his lips twitch, but again, I can't tell
exactly what he's thinking. The silence goes on for second after second as he
stares into my eyes, and I feel a knot of worry begin to form in my stomach.
Did I completely misread this situation?

"So after we land, we go our separate ways?" he
finally asks.

"Exactly," I reply.

"That sounds...perfect," he finally murmurs. His
eyes dart once toward the bathroom just behind our row. "Only thing is,
this bum leg has left me...somewhat less than acrobatic."

"Ah. Well, the size of the first class bathrooms makes
that a bit less of a problem," I reply with a smile.

"Everything's better up here," he says, and pauses
again. I hold my breath, though I try to maintain a cool, confident exterior.
"I'll meet you in there in two minutes."

I try not to seem too excited. "Perfect," I reply
instead with a coy smile. I reach into my purse and discreetly tuck a condom
into the sleeve of my cotton shirt. With a glance around to make sure that no
one's been watching us, I nonchalantly stand up and turn to the back of the
first class area where the bathrooms are. Most everyone else in the cabin seems
to be sleeping, as the flight is nearing its end and the sky outside is dark,
though there are a couple people toward the front illuminated by the glow of
video screens.

I let myself into the bathroom and then close the door
behind me, turning the lock. I quickly examine myself in the mirror: under-eye
bags a bit better after the nap, hair slightly greasy but fine...how's my
breath? I breathe into my hand and then turn on the faucet, leaning my mouth
under the stream of water and then gargling before spitting it back out.

I give a quick glance over my body. I might not have been
working out in a gym while in Paris, but I did walk everywhere. Had to,
considering how many pastries I was eating at the bakery. I wish I were wearing
cuter underwear beneath my yoga pants, but I didn't really consider the
possibility of a quickie on the plane.

There are two soft knocks at the door. I take a deep breath.
I'm regretting my decision to stop drinking at the beginning of the flight
rather than the end. A few vodka sodas would really take the edge of my
nervousness right now. In fact, I can't remember the last time I had a
one-night stand sober. The thought strikes me a bit funny, but I don't have
time to really turn it over in my mind. I reach forward and undo the lock, then
step back against the sink.

He steps inside and snorts as he looks around. "You
weren't kidding." He closes and locks the door behind him, leaning heavily
on his left leg. I swallow hard.  Standing next to him for the first time,
I can see how far he towers over me. He must be as tall as my brother, nearly
six foot three or four. "There's actually space in here for a lot of
things," he says musingly as he steps forward until he's just inches away
from me. "But since we should probably make this fast..."

His arm flies out and snakes around my waist. He pulls me
against him hard, taking my breath away. I look up at him wide-eyed, feeling my
heartbeat pounding. My breasts pillow against his chest, covered in a
long-sleeved army green shirt. I freeze. I haven't felt this turned on in ages.

"Having second thoughts?" he asks with that
infuriatingly hard-to-read expression.

I smile and slide my hand across his broad thigh and over
his hardening cock. "Nope. You?"

His answer is to lean down and cover my mouth with his. I
melt into him as our lips open at the same time and our tongues explore against
each other. His mouth tastes like mint, but his scent up close is smoky, like
charred wood. I'd love to take my time, but he was right about the need for
speed.

I grudgingly pull away and whip my shirt over my head. He
looks momentarily surprised and then grins. He must not have noticed before
that I wasn't wearing a bra, which I stubbornly refuse to do on flights longer
than a couple hours. He wraps one arm back around my waist and palms my right breast
in his other one. My head sags back as he gently twists my nipple, and I gasp
as he takes it in his mouth with a firm suck.

I reach out my hands and push his shirt up to the bottom of
his pecs, running my hands over his etched abdominal muscles. He can't be
bothered to stop his tongue action on my breasts long enough to take off his
shirt, and I'm certainly not going to force the issue. Leaving the shirt
halfway off, I move my hands down to his fly, tugging the zipper down and
reaching inside his boxer shorts. I'm not surprised to find that the size of
his cock more than matches the rest of his body. I wrap my hand firmly around
it, moving up and down as I pull it out of his pants.

He releases my breast and takes my chin in his hand, holding
my face as he kisses me again. I open my mouth completely to him, wet with
desire as he uses his other hand to pull my pants and underwear down to just
below my ass. Just as suddenly as he pulled me toward him, he now turns me
around, pressing my thighs up against the counter holding the sink.

He places his hands on the sides of my waist and then draws
them upward along the sides of my ribs. I look up to the wide mirror above the
sink and see that he's watching me. My lips part as he moves his hands under my
armpits and keeps going, pulling my arms up and out. As his hands reach mine,
he presses mine against the mirror. I leave them there, knowing that's what he
wants me to do.

His hands move back down. I watch as he spreads his fingers
across my breasts and then down over my stomach. I realize I'm shaking with
desire as he presses his cock up against my bare ass. The fingers of his right
hand move into my thin sliver of pubic hair and part my lips. I moan as he
slips a finger over my aching, wet clit. Oh fuck, I could come right now.

Reading my reaction, his eyes flicker over to the condom,
sitting on the edge of the sink where I left it. He picks it up and tears it
open with his teeth with an animalistic grunt. I'm practically panting now, my
whole body thrumming with the desire for completion.

 His hands reappear at my hips, grasping them firmly
and tilting them upward slightly. I arch my back and feel his tip pressing at
my opening. I wince as he thrusts inside me. Damn, he must be the biggest I've
ever had. He slows down, eyes glued on my facial expression in the mirror. I
relax my muscles around his length, but now I'm trembling. He eases back out
and then slowly presses back in. I bite my lip to hold back a moan. He's
stretching me so far open, and the feeling is so exquisite that I'm not sure
how much more I can take.

He moves one hand around and sinks a finger back against my
clit. My body almost crumples as he flicks it back and forth and simultaneously
draws his hips back and thrusts in again. I force myself to keep my hands on
the mirror, wanting to feel more and more even though I'm already overwhelmed
with pleasure.

He begins to pump inside me faster. My mouth drops open as
my awareness of everything else but the feel of him inside me and against me
falls away. It's just him and me, moving together, building...my pleasure
spikes suddenly, launching me into an orgasm. My hands fist against the mirror
as I struggle to keep my cries quiet. I hear him grunt behind me as he releases
himself at the same time, our bodies pressing against each other a few more
times as we eke out every last moment of the experience.