Mine: A Stepbrother Romance: (With bonus novel Bossy!) (17 page)

We shuck our harnesses, and I tear off my shirt. Liz backs away. Her eyes devour me, but she’s nervous. Good.

“They’ll come looking for us.” Her voice is breathy and unsure.

My lips curl up into a wolfish smile. “Not right away. Potential tragedy makes for good TV.”

“You planned this?”

I don’t know if she even notices that I’m stalking her. She just keeps moving away until her back hits the tree. Her fingers go to the trunk, and her lips part as I kick off my shoes.

“I might have suggested it.”

“But... what if I didn’t win?”

Fuck, she’s beautiful. Liz’s face is flushed, and when I slip my hand under her shirt and stroke her bare skin, she can’t hide the way her eyes smolder and she presses into my touch. Her chest rises and falls, breasts straining against her shirt.

“How could you lose?” I’d picked that challenge myself. Unless one of the other women turned out to be a serious diver, it seemed a sure thing.

Liz turns her head away. “Things happen. The show isn’t always fair.”

My lips brush over her neck, and she moves a hand to my stomach. Her touch is hesitant at first, then she strokes over my abs, her fingers dipping just under the waistband of my shorts.

“I don’t care about the fucking show.” I grab the bottom of her shirt and pull it up over her head. “Do you want this?”

Her eyes are wide, stunned. “What?”

“It’s not a trick question,” I bite out. “If I could, I’d give you a bed. Candles and flowers. Whatever the fuck you wanted. But maybe this is better. This is where it started.”

“I don’t want candles and flowers,” she whispers.

“Then what do you want?”

“You.”

For now, that’s good enough. Burning with need, I tear my shorts and underwear down in one motion, pleased at her gasp when my cock bounces free. I’m so hard it fucking hurts, and I only get harder as she pulls down her shorts and unhooks the scrap of lace passing as her bra. I’m still going to kick Danny’s ass, but I can’t fault his taste.

Growing up with everything—materially speaking at least—I’ve never lacked for women. It’s not ego, it’s just reality. Surround someone with enough privilege and there will always be people looking to let some of it rub off on them.

I’m no saint. I’ve played in those waters.

This is better. This is
her.

Slipping a condom out of the pocket of my shorts, I tear it open.

Liz grabs my wrist. “You came prepared.” Her voice is low, throaty and sexy as fuck.

“After our swim? Wasn’t taking chances.” I laugh, but she cuts it off by wrapping her hand around my cock, and I hiss in pleasure. “Turn around,” I growl.

Chewing her lip with a nervousness that belies the heat in her eyes, she turns and braces against the huge trunk of the tree, her rounded ass pointed right at me. With a tug, I shove down her bikini bottoms, my cock throbbing at the way they cling to her moist folds.

Fuck, I want her so bad.

I roll on the condom and trace my fingers through her wetness. She sighs and presses into my hand, trying to get what she needs. Fuck foreplay, there’s time for that later. Right now it’s not what either of us wants.

She looks over her shoulder, face soft and eyes slightly unfocused with lust. “Do it.”

I don’t need to hear begging. I’m way beyond ready. Nudging my throbbing cock against her softness, I push forward. My hands wrap around her waist, and I drive deep.

Her satisfied groan is music to my ears. She’s wrapped around me like a glove, her heartbeat and the encouraging squeeze of her body driving me crazy with need. With one hand, I trace her spine, admiring the line of her back, her graceful shoulders, her long, straightened hair as it sways with our rocking.

Long legs spread, innocent little white sneakers still on her feet, and taking my cock like she needs it to live.

She’s so fucking sexy.

The way she pushes back at me, the way her soft body squirms beneath me, the sound of her throaty breaths as I hammer into her and the desperate twist of her hips as she seeks her own pleasure, they all combine to strip away my well-practiced control.

With a shuddering groan, I push deep as the muscles in my ass tighten. Everything I am floods into her, filling the condom until it seems like it should burst.

She moans pitifully as I reluctantly pull out. “No...”

“Trust me. I’m going to take care of you.” Taking her in my arms, I flip her around and press her against the tree. I lean in and she lifts her head to meet me. As our lips mash together, I run my hands over her body, exploring her, getting to know every inch of her smooth skin. Her hands find me, roaming over my arms and chest, leaving burning hot trails everywhere they touch.

The edge taken off, I take time to enjoy. For long moments, we lose ourselves in our kiss while we explore each other. Cupping one of her breasts in my hand, I dip down to suck on her hard nipple, while her fingers wrap around my already recovering cock. As she strokes me, I release her nipple with a wet pop and trail kisses up her chest, across her shoulder, up her neck and nip her earlobe.

“I’ve wanted to do this since I saw you on the plane.”

She laughs, interrupted briefly by what sounds almost like a hiccup when I slip a finger between her legs. “I thought you were a creepy stalker.”

I push against her. “I’m hurt. I was a
sexy
stalker.”

She groans. “Hey! You had help from a makeup team for
your
disguise.”

“Doesn’t matter. Now you’re going to pay.”

Her eyes are wide, watching me with a mix of lust and humor. “Pay?”

“Absolutely.” I drop to my knees and grip the backs of her thighs to hold her open. “I’m going to make you come so hard it hurts.”

“H
unter!” I barely manage to croak it out before his mouth closes over my clit and a finger slides into me.

No fantasy could’ve prepared me for this.

His broad tongue slicks against my swollen flesh, and his fingers grip my thighs, forcing me to spread for him. I look down and he glances up, his beautiful blue eyes laughing at my shock. Heat pulses into every inch of my body. Wrapping my fingers into his wind tousled hair, I pull him closer.

“Oh, God. Don’t stop. Whatever you do, don’t stop.” My words come out breathlessly, barely formed. When he replies, I can’t even make it out. The vibrations just add to the amazing sensations he’s already giving me and his breath rushing past my clit fires off little electric shocks.

Deep inside, a tidal wave of pleasure pulses through me. It rises and falls, coming back bigger and stronger each time until it fills me to completion.

“Please.” I pull him against me harder, my nails digging into his scalp, but he doesn’t budge. “Hunter!”

Pleasure so sharp it hurts has my muscles tight and my back arched. The hot, wet tip of his tongue flicks over my clit and he drives deep with his fingers.

It’s enough.

I cry out as my thighs lock around his head and I explode into a million pieces with Hunter at the very center of the beautiful destruction.

Noises I barely recognize come out of my throat. The tree digs into my back, but I don’t care. He doesn’t stop, licking, kissing and sucking until I scream out a second time.

As I come down, his attention is so overwhelming it’s almost painful. My hands slowly untangle from his hair. He pulls back, making a show of licking his fingers that makes my cheeks burn, even after all that we’ve already done.

“Stop it.” I push him away playfully.

He falls back with a giant, wet grin on his face. “Do you really mean that?”

I can’t help but grin back. “For now.”

“Just saying. I could go again.”

I try to imagine. “I’m pretty sure that would kill me. What, do you do pushups on that tongue or something?”

He shrugs. “Got to keep it in shape somehow.”

Hunter tugs his shorts back on and stretches out on the grass, an arm crossed over his eyes. I pull my clothes on quickly, wrinkling my nose at the bra and shoving it into my pocket. There’s an ache between my legs that I’m going to be feeling all day, and I love it.

He’s beautiful. Honest-to-God beautiful.

I kneel beside him, gently tracing one of the designs, an intricate pattern of jagged edges and arcing lines that stretches across his side. He’s such a contradiction. Smart but silly. Tough but cultured. He doesn’t fit neatly into any of the boxes I try to put him in. He’s just Hunter. My one time stepbrother, and sometimes friend.

Now my lover.

“The first one I got to piss off my mother’s family.” His arm still covers his face.

“Hm?” My fingers stop, and I put a palm over the tattoo.

“When Dad sent me to England for boarding school, it was only because they demanded it or they’d cut off the money until I was old enough to handle it on my own. Growing up in the States, and then here with an American stepmother, they wanted me to get a
proper education
. Not my mother—she didn’t care—but her parents. They’re still holding out hope that I’ll be a proper grandson.”

“You can’t be a proper grandson with a tattoo?”

He smirks. “The joke was on me. They didn’t really mind. It didn’t show under a suit, and their posh friends’ daughters were quite impressed. I suppose I could’ve gotten an American flag tattooed on my forehead, but that seemed like overkill.”

“And the rest?” I stroke his colorful shoulder. This was more than a single act of rebellion.

“Vanity, mostly. If I looked tough, I felt tough. Working out and getting the ink was part of my screw-’em-all phase.”

“Did you?” I chew my lip, annoyed that I’m nervous about asking. “Screw them all?”

He lowers his arm. “
All
would be a logistical nightmare, but enough. Is that a problem? It’s been a while, and I’m tested regularly.”

The practical, straightforward words are a shock even though they shouldn’t be. I knew he hadn’t been some angsty virgin, pining for my love, but thinking of him out there just... fucking other girls. It hurts. “No.”

Hunter props himself up on his elbows. “No, seriously. Don’t lie to me. You can’t tell me you’ve been saving yourself for me all these years. I think I’d have noticed.”

“I said no, okay? Drop it.” I might be lying, but I need time to process what’s happened.

He doesn’t give it to me. “Whatever’s going on with us now has nothing to do with who we’ve fucked.”

“I know that! I’m not seventeen anymore.” I stand up and wipe my hands off on my shorts, turning away.

“Seventeen...” His voice trails off. “New York City?”

My silence is enough to convince him he’s on the right track.

Hunter jumps up and grabs my arm, spinning me around. “Don’t just throw shit like that at me and walk away. Ten years is a long fucking time. If we can’t talk about it, we might as well say ‘thanks for the fuck’ now and call it a day.”

“You think I don’t know that? My ten have been
really fucking long,
” I yell. “I know you’re super-hot and crazy rich. I know you didn’t save yourself for me and it would be idiotic not to realize women probably throw themselves at you all the time. That doesn’t mean I like to hear about it. Or that it was fun to watch, because
I did
.” His eyebrows scrunch up in confusion. “I was seventeen, and my life was turning to shit, and remembering you and this place was all I had to hold onto. You didn’t wait for me, but I waited for you.”

“Liz—”

“No, you asked for it. You get to hear it. I know it wasn’t smart. I’m not a kid anymore. I even knew back then, but in my dreams you would walk back into my life, and it would be good again. You’d make it all better, and we’d... gah,” I throw up my arms. “I don’t even know. It was supposed to be romantic and perfect and a million things it was never going to be. But then you showed up with
her.
”

Hunter snorts. I can see he’s trying not to laugh, but he is. “Nina?”

“
Nina,
” I growl.

“Nina is Danny’s cousin. We dated for like, thirty seconds.”

“Yeah, well. Too bad I was there for a couple of them.”

He tugs me over to Giant Bob and crouches down. Brushing away dirt and leaves, some old scratches come into view. “Liz, I was barely nineteen and an idiot. That was probably a month before I got my first tattoo. The last thing I wanted was to look like a loser in front of you.”

I blink my burning eyes and sniff. “Me?”

“Yes, you.” He lets go of my arm, and smooths a hand over my cheek. “Do you remember carving these?”

It’s our initials, after all these years. The tree didn’t forget, and neither did I. “Of course.”

“I would’ve loved to be your first. Fuck, just thinking about it makes me want to go kick whoever’s ass it was, but honestly? It would’ve been a giant fucking mess. You probably would’ve hated me after a week and I would’ve screwed it up royally. At least now we might stand a chance.”

Clear blue eyes meet my own fake green ones. He’s an open book, and I’m still an imposter. I know I can’t go through with anything that would hurt him, but I don’t know how to get out of this mess without that happening.

My heart never stood a chance.

L
eis? I’m supposed to give them fucking leis?

They are aware this isn’t Hawaii, right?

The remaining six women stand on the beach in a half circle, with Blaze and me opposite them. Surrounding us are large tiki torches planted in the sand, holding the tropical night at a distance. At least they skipped the hula dancers.

I pull at the collar of my neatly pressed, white dress shirt, uncomfortable. Both because of the over-starched collar and because this is the last big elimination, the choice is entirely up to me.

Blaze steps forward. “Ladies, our weeks together have been decadent, exciting and romantic. You’ve all had your chance to make an impression on our bachelor. Some more than others,” he adds with a wink. “But this isn’t about rowing, or wrestling, or diving. It’s about love. Tonight we’ll find out who has managed to catch Hunter’s eye, and who will be leaving us.”