Mail Order Stepbrother (6 page)

Should that set off alarm bells?

No…the thing that made her bells ring was the fact that he didn’t kiss her. Didn’t even try. Was he waiting for her to make the first move? Did he want her to? It just seemed odd. She could feel how badly he wanted it, but he never even touched her, except that tender finger on her throat. She reached up and touched the spot, her heart skipping a beat as she remembered what it felt like.

She really liked him.

And that scared the crap out of her.

She tried not to think about it too much as she pulled into the private driveway outside her apartment. The neighbor had left his trash out on the sidewalk again. She walked around it, annoyed as she nearly slipped in something slimy.

She’d have to call management in the morning. Again.

She walked up the steps to her apartment door and unlocked it, sighing as she stepped inside and leaned back against the door. She kicked off her shoes, leaving them there beside the door so that whatever it was on the toe of her shoe would not be tracked over her recently steam cleaned carpets. Her laptop sat open on the coffee table. She thought about emailing Nash, but decided to wait and see if he texted her the next day.

It was possible she had misread the situation. Right?

She sighed again as she made her way across the living room to her bedroom. She was over analyzing everything. She always did. Every look, every smile, every moment of the evening would be examined and reexamined. Especially if he didn’t call or text or email or…something.

She reached behind her and began to unzip the back of her dress when someone pounded on her door. She looked over at it, as though she could see through the heavy wood to the other side, as though she could figure out who was there just by staring at the door. It was late. Her neighbor was a school teacher who often went to bed while the sun was still up. All her friends—mostly colleagues—knew better than to disturb her late at night because of the possibility that she would have an early surgery.

She crossed back to the door and slipped the deadbolt, but not the security chain.

Who even has a security chain anymore?
She’d asked her mother when she insisted on placing it there shortly after Melanie moved into the apartment.

Single women who live a thousand miles from home,
her mother had calmly answered.

Sometimes her mother was wiser than Melanie ever gave her credit for.

She pulled the door open the few inches the chain allowed and looked out onto the dark stoop. Nash stood there, his face a dark mask of something that made her wonder if she had misread everything about him tonight.

“I’m an idiot.” He leaned against the threshold, pressing his face as close to the crack in the door she had created as he could. “I never should have let you leave without a kiss.”

“How did you know where I live?”

He looked a little sheepish as he pulled back slightly. “I followed you.”

Melanie’s eyebrows rose. “You followed me?”

“I was standing there, listening to your car drive away, and I realized what a fool I’d been.” He leaned forward again, bracing himself against the door frame with the palm of his hand, his fingers long and slender, just inches from her face. “Look, I’ve had a lot of bad experiences with women over the past few years. And the moment I realized that I really wanted to meet you, I promised myself that I wouldn’t jump in too quickly. I would take it slowly, make sure you weren’t just another mistake.”

Melanie tried not to take offense. She had been thinking some of the same things early in their acquaintanceship. But, still, it felt wrong to hear it spoken out loud.

And he seemed to know it.

“I really like you, Melanie,” he said softly, his blue eyes washing over her like cream over berries. “I knew it early in our correspondence, but I told myself it wasn’t real, that you weren’t real. That this kind of thing allows for lies and tricks and that I shouldn’t get myself all worked up over nothing. But tonight…”

“I’m scared, too.”

His whole expression, the tension in his shoulders, everything about him that spoke to his concerns seemed to soften at her words.

“Can I come in?” He held up a hand in a mock Boy Scout salute. “I promise to leave the moment you ask me to.”

Melanie hesitated only an instant. She pushed the door and unhooked the security chain, allowing him to slip inside before she even managed to pull the door completely open. And then his hand was sliding around her waist and he was turning her, pressing her against the closing door.

He didn’t kiss her right away. He pressed a hand to her forehead, sliding her hair away from her face as she tilted her chin up toward him. His fingers played with a few soft curls along the side of her head, then brushed lightly against her cheek. His other hand was on her hip, and it, too, began to slide over the curve of her ass and up, finally tugging her against him.

When he did kiss her, it was a soft, lingering kiss, the kind that touches your soul and leaves you aching for more. She laid her hand on his shoulder, her fingers drawn to the thick hair at the base of his neck, playing with it even as she drew him closer to her, as she made every effort to deepen the kiss. She wanted everything he had to offer, wanted to give him all she had, wanted him to want to come back, to want to know all she could give to him.

All she could think about was how badly she wanted him.

Was it crazy to want to be with a man so soon after meeting him? But again, she told herself it wasn’t really that fast. They had been talking for nearly a month.

She moved closer to him, opened to him even before he asked. He didn’t seem to mind. He responded with the same heat that was pouring through her. It was like she broke some reserve inside of him. The gentleness changed. It didn’t disappear completely, but it became less about showing her what a gentleman he could be and more about fulfilling desire without physically injuring anyone.

He pushed her back against the door as he bent slightly, slipping his hand under the hem of her dress. His hand moved with deliberation, sliding up until he found the bottom edge of the thin, wisp of material that Victoria’s Secret called panties. They dissolved with the slightest pressure—twenty dollar panties torn and useless—replaced by the palm of his hand as it moved roughly over her ass, his fingers searching out places that hadn’t been touched in a long time.

Melanie bent her knee, offering him free access to those places. He groaned against her mouth as his fingers sought—and quickly found—the sweet center they’d been looking for. Melanie returned his groan even as her own hands went on a hot search. She loved the stretch and flex of his muscles, loved the way they seemed to vibrate with power along his shoulders, his back, over the hardness of his ribs.

Her fingers sought and found the expensive leather of his belt, tugging even as the skirt of her dress found its way up around her waist. And then he was gone, dropped to his knees as his mouth searched for another set of lips. He made her wait, however, his hot mouth moving over her thigh and down to the curve of her knee, his lips and tongue exploring the length of one leg, then the other. When he finally came back to her pot of honey, she thought she might go insane just at the heat of his breath.

How could she have lived more than twenty-five years and not felt something this exquisitely pleasurable?

She lifted one leg, wrapped it around his shoulders, and buried her fingers in his hair. Her moans came quicker, faster, with her quick puffs of breath. Words she never thought she would utter, even in the safety of her own mind, began to roll from between her lips. Muttered words of need, words that encouraged him as much as they would have shocked her if her mind wasn’t so pickled with need.

She could feel an orgasm coming. She was familiar with that feeling, as any woman who has known a man—or a really good vibrator—does. But this…nothing about Nash’s touch was like what had come before.

She had heard women talk about the ultimate orgasm before. Melanie had always laughed at them. She was a doctor and understood how the body worked. It was a basic function.

But there was nothing basic about this.

Her vision began to darken around the edges as her belly tightened, as her clit swelled inside his mouth. Then…it was like a bomb went off in her lower belly, the blast radiating all through her body, causing her nerves to become overstimulated, sending all kinds of crazy signals to her brain. She couldn’t breathe for a minute, couldn’t see, couldn’t hear for the ringing that filled her ears. The strength went out of her knees, her bones turned to mush. She fell in a heap in front of him, her back scraping against something sharp and painful on the door, but her nerves were still so confused that she didn’t really feel it at first.

Nash smiled, amusement dancing in his eyes as he gathered her into his arms.

“Was it good for you?” he whispered in her ear as he lifted her like she weighed no more than a feather and began to make his way toward the open bedroom door. She wondered for a minute if he was serious. That’s how messed up her frazzled mind was.

He unzipped the back of her dress as he set her on the edge of the bed, but he didn’t pull it from her body. Instead, he stepped back and shed his suit jacket, his eyes never leaving hers as he untucked his shirt and began to unbutton it. Melanie bit her lip, so eager to see what was underneath that her nerve shattering orgasm was forgotten. The shirt hit the carpet, quickly followed by the thin, stark white undershirt beneath it.

Hmm…it was well worth waiting for.

She climbed to her feet and moved up close to him, sliding her hand slowly over his chest, running her fingertips through the thin wisps of hair between his well-defined pecs, and then down, finding the matching patch of hair that began just below his navel. He touched the back of her hand, pressing her palm to his flesh for a moment before letting go, before tugging at the straps of her dress for a little quid pro quo. She blushed as her breasts fell from the built-in bra of the dress, stepping back slightly so that the black material could shimmy down the length of her body and reveal her full nakedness beneath.

She wasn’t sure what she expected. She knew what she didn’t want him to say, or do. She didn’t want laughter. She didn’t want him to grab his jacket and walk away. And she didn’t want him to tell her how much her body disgusted him.

Funny how the mind always goes to the negative.

Of course, he didn’t react that way. But what he did do was better than that nerve shattering orgasm.

Almost.

He let his eyes move slowly over every inch of her, so slowly that she began to feel a little unsure of herself. Then he stepped into her, pushing her gently back against the bed.

“So beautiful,” he whispered as he captured her lips again, his hands exploring even as she fell backward onto the mattress. “I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you right now.”

The urgency was back in his hands, the way he pulled her into position underneath him. She could feel him struggling with his belt, the stubborn thing making him break their kiss momentarily. She could see then that his hands were shaking. Such beautiful, slender fingers, so steady and strong all through dinner. But now they were shaking. It was that which proved to her that none of this was an act for him, that he sincerely meant all he had said.

And that settled the anxiety in her chest, replacing it with a calm that could only be compared with the calm that came over her when a difficult surgery was going well.

She pushed him over, quickly switching positions with him. She managed to get his belt undone with a quick pull, attacking the zipper that held his slacks in place. He tried to grab her wrist, intent on taking control again. But she was ready to stop being the docile partner she’d been up to this point. She wanted to offer him a modicum of the pleasure he had given her.

Melanie pressed her hand into his pants, wrapping her fist around his cock with pressure that made him cry out. She released him and ran her hand deep inside of his pants, his boxer briefs, exploring his length, the soft, roundness of his balls. He groaned as she cupped one side in her hand and lightly squeezed, and again when she repeated the same movement on the other side.

“You have to stop,” he grunted, sitting up and grabbing her upper arms, pulling her into him. He captured her lips again, a deep sigh slipping her lips as she welcomed him. He lifted her, pulling her into his lap. She willingly straddled his hips, reaching down between her own legs to push away the troublesome material still covering his cock. He moved his hips upward as she gripped him, pumping himself through her first. Then he was pushing her hand away, guiding himself inside of her.

It had been too long. She had to adjust her position several times to find one that was comfortable. But once she did, once her body adjusted to the invasion of his Nash, once he began to roll his hips in a slow motion that caused him to bounce off places she hadn’t even known existed…there were no words. Pleasure became a life force all its own, growing and taking over inside of her, dictating her movements. She pressed her hands to the tops of his shoulders and began her own rocking motion, taking over their rhythm until every roll, every thrust made another nerve come to life deep inside of her.

That tightness—the tingle that told her an orgasm was coming—overcame her sooner than she expected. After the last…she hadn’t been sure she could experience such intensity again. But it was coming, rushing over her as her movements changed, her breathing changed, pushing her to an edge she had never visited before, but knew she wanted to jump over again and again.

He grabbed her hips and rolled her over, tugging her legs high up on his body as he braced himself on his hands and began a new rhythm. She cried out as her orgasm began, her fingernails digging themselves into his back as she pulled him closer, as she tried to hold him still deep inside of her. But he wasn’t done. He continued to thrust even as his own movements became frenzied, as his own breathing became something close to hyperventilating. Waves of pleasure washed over her, growing so intense that it was almost painful as he continued to move inside her. And then he cried out, and then he was still, the heat of his orgasm rushing inside of her as he pressed himself as deep as he could get.