Mockingbird (A Stepbrother Romance) (19 page)

He's the only one not smiling. I start to frown too, then force myself to perk up when Mom turns to face me.

Please, don't hurt her. Not now. Please don't hurt my mother, I beg you.

From there it's a simple matter of going through the reception motions.

My unease grows by the instant. I watch this stranger dance with my mother to an Elvis CD playing on her old boombox.

Fools rush in, indeed.

I just need to get away from Apollo and get my mind off of all of this. Dinner first, then cake. That steamer tray full of gnocchi has my name all over it. Antonio's makes the best, the sauce thick with ricotta cheese and bits of sausage, all stewed together to perfection.

Then Apollo grabs my arm.

"We need to talk."

"No."

"Please. Diana please, just give me a few minutes. I'm begging you."

"Fine. Where?"

"Outside. Anywhere but here."

I slip away from the revelry and Apollo follows. I can feel his eyes on me, drinking me in, pulling me to him. I try to make myself full of cold fury directed at him, but I just can't. Sooner or later people are going to see us talking.

'This way."

I lead him through the back door and out behind the house. As soon as the door closes, I round on him.
 

"What is it? What do you want?"

"We need someplace more private."

"Not a chance in hell. You're lucky I went this far with you."

"Diana,
please.
You need to hear what I have to say. Please."

Damn him to hell.

"Fine," I sigh. "This way."

There's a path that leads away from the old house, towards the viewing pond. There's a bench and a stand of trees here, a perfect place to talk about whatever this is.

"You can't mean to make a play for me," I snap at him. "You’re my brother now. Stepbrother. Whatever."

He rubs at his eyes. Why is there a big bruise on his jaw? How did I not spot that before? I almost reach for it
 
but clutch my hands together instead.

"Say what you have to say, or I'm leaving."

"I'm not who you think I am. Neither of us is."

I blink a few times. "What the hell are you talking about."

"There is no easy way to say this, so I'm just going to say it. Are you listening?"

"Yes."

He tenses, drawing in a breath that doesn't come out. Something is happening here. I feel everything slowing down, the world thickening like oil in the cold. Something that's going to define the rest of my life is about to happen.

"My father and I are professional thieves. We're here to steal that Vermeer painting. The whole point of this is to get close to your mother so we can get the passcode and encryption key for the vault."

I snicker. Then I snort. Then I bust out laughing.

"Is this a joke? Do you think you can feed me some lame story so I'll forget what I…" I close my mouth and turn away.

"Diana please, listen to me. This is not a joke or a wild story or a prank. It's the truth, I swear on my mother's grave." His voice tightens. "Please."

When I turn back I see the wet in his eyes.

I haul off and slap him, hard. I throw my full body into it. When my hand connects to his jaw it snaps his head to the side and he stumbles. Then I do it again, knock him the other way. He falls to his knees.

"I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have let this happen. I should have done something sooner, but it was too late and… I couldn't. I couldn’t just use you and leave. I need you."

"Need me? Fuck you, Apollo. Do you think I believe this bullshit? Professional thieves? Do I look
stupid?"

"You… you don't believe…"

He rises to his feet so quick I jump back a step, stumble, almost fall, and he grabs my arms. His grip is like a pair of vices clamped on my wrists.

"Listen to me. What do you know about my father? About me? Think about all the times you asked me questions and I completely evaded them.
Think
, Diana. How long has he been on the donor list, do you know?"

"He's n-new," I choke out. Oh God, what if he's telling the truth?

"All the times you asked me about where I was from, how I grew up. We rehearsed fake stories but I couldn't make myself lie to you, so I just kept my fucking mouth shut instead. I wanted to tell you the truth. My father fucked my mother while he was doing a job, while he was stealing, and the condom broke."

He releases my wrists and points to himself. "Voila, me. When my mom got cancer and died he picked me up and started training me. He made me
like him
. That's why my first was a stripper. My first time was
almost
with an escort that lived with us in Prague. She was banging him, too, and offered to 'make me a man'. I've stolen so much shit, thrown so much money away on gambling and… and things, I don't even know where to start. I thought it was the only way. I thought we were robbing to the rich and giving to the poor, but the people that sent us here to steal that painting…" he trails off, scrubbing his hands in his hair and gritting his teeth.

"So it was a lie," I choke out. It feels like I swallowed a bag of cement. "It was all a lie, wasn't it? That was the plan. Get into my pants while they were in Vegas so you could rifle through my Mom's things and steal the codes for the vault. You
motherfucker
. I'm calling the police-"

"I didn't," he pleads, reaching for me. I just barely evade his grasp. "I didn't look, I didn't give him anything. I wanted to tell you the other day when you… when we were almost going to… I tried but I couldn't, he's my
father.
If we don't do this, they'll kill us."

"Very convenient. We'll find out if this is true when I go the head of security and get the police. The FBI, the CIA, the NSA, the FDA, I'm calling fucking everybody. I hope it's true and they put you two in prison forever, until you rot, you pig. It
 
was all a lie, wasn't it? Tell me? Tell me it was all a lie."

"It wasn't, just let me-"

"No."

I turn on my heels and stride towards the house. He throws himself at my feet, locks his arms around my waist and presses his face into my back.

"It wasn't. It was all true. I've never
felt
anything for anyone before. Not like you. I love you, Diana. I want to be with you, but I can't.
 
No matter what happens I have to go. You'll be in danger if I try to stay, one way or another. I'm so sorry. Please don't hate me. Please."

"I…"

I hate you.
Say it!

I turn around and shove him back and tumble on top of him in the grass, under a tree. He pulls me to him and our lips meet in the deepest kiss we've ever shared, full of loss and hunger and desire.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I can't fix this. I can't make it right."

I silence him with another kiss, and another, and another. We can't do this here. Someone could see us.

It's too late. It's
going
to happen.

He grasps my shoulders, gingerly, and pushes me back, pulling me away from him. I try to kiss him anyway but he's too strong.

"We can't. Please. I can't stay with you. I can't be with you."

"Shut up," I snap at him, and wriggle out of his grasp to fall on him again, wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him hard.

His fingers find my hair. His other hand slides up my leg, under the hem of my dress. Just his touch on the outside of my thigh sends a spasm of heat flaring through my body.

I get up, tug his hand. He rises to his feet and I pull him along away from the path, where someone could see us. Behind the park bench, back, into the trees. There he seizes me by the waist and
 
pushes me up against the tree, driving my legs apart, around him, crushing against me, surrounding me, possessing me. It's the other way around. He's
mine
. The passion is here. This is my passion. I feel like this moment is the only reason I've existed at all. My future is in his arms.

"Did you ever hurt anybody," I murmur, so close our breath is one.

"No. Never hurt anybody. Never stole from anybody who couldn't afford it."

"What changed? Why us?"

"Dad got in deep. I didn't know. Bad people have something over him. I can't fix this, Diana. I have to go. It's the only way you can stay safe…"

"You're not getting rid of me that easily. You don't get to rip my heart out. I won't allow it."

"I don't want to. I want to stay with you here, or wherever you want to go. I want to be like everybody out there. I want to wake up next to the same person every day. I want to have a family, a life, something to leave behind me. I'm sick of lying to everyone I meet. I never realized it until I met you."

I all but jump on him. He sinks to his knees with me, then onto his back, always kissing me back, hard. I kneel, straddling him, hike up my dress and shove my underwear down, fall on him and wriggle my way out of them. I almost tear at his clothes, freeing him from his pants and boxers, feel his shaft in my hand, and savor the look of dull shock on his face.

You'd think it was his first time.

I wince as I take him inside me. I thought it would be easier than this. I quiver and slow, and let go of his shaft as his length enters me. He grabs my waist, trying to slow me, but I hunch forward, shift a little until it becomes more comfortable, and slide down, ignoring the sting I feel until I'm sitting in his lap, his cock full inside me. I sit up a little and feel it shift and groan softly, and he rests his hand on my cheek. I grasp his wrist and rub his palm against my skin, and roll my hips, shifting him inside me. I can feel him tense up, trying to hold back.

Oh my God.

"Are you okay? Does it hurt?"

His voice is strangely innocent, full of awe and wonder, like his expression. I spread open his shirt as he pulls down the top of my dress and tugs my bra straps loose. The cups slide down my stomach and he grasps my breasts in his hands, running his thumb along the sensitive skin under them as I writhe on top of him. It feels so good, so
right
to have him inside me. I rest my weight on his hands and he lowers me down on top of him, wraps his arms around me, and holds me still as he begins to thrust into me from underneath, breathing hard in my hair.

I learn quickly. If I tilt my hips just the right way, roll them a little. This is different from anything I've ever felt. I swear I can feel his heart, his pulse racing through my body and mine racing through his. It's more than a physical connection, we're one, somehow. I feel tears on my cheek and he kisses them away and sits up, driving deeper inside me. He puts his hand on the small of my back and guides my movements as I ride him, my head propped on his shoulder. I can feel his body tensing. I squeeze his hips with my legs and whisper in his ear.

"Get me on my back and fuck me."

All at once I'm on my back, my legs locked around him. He cradles my head with his hand and drives into me hard, almost until it hurts, but not quite, like he
knows
. I dig my fingers into his hair and slide my other arm under his shirt, around his back, feeling his whole body rolling with energy as his cock surges inside me, sending shooters of pleasure curling down my limbs. My toes curl and I feel a rush of air as my left shoe pops right off my foot. He sucks on my neck as he fucks me, urged on by the motion of my hips, my nails digging into his back and raking his scalp.

His breath grows quick, pained, his body tightening. I forget everything but the aching pleasure spreading through my body, a special, luscious agony that coils in my muscles until it feels like they'll break, tightens in my stomach until I can't breathe for all the air I suck into my lungs, until there is no release even in crying out and
then
, it happens. It rolls through my body like I've been thrown into the ocean, shivers and shocks and
 
spiraling shooters of pleasure that rocket from my sex to my scalp as my toes curl and my nails dig into him, and he cries out. His moans rumble in my ear, a pleasure all their own, and I savor them as I crash through the peak. It's like rolling down a hill only to crest the next one and roll down again, and I don't know when it will stop. He drives against me, holding me tight, pushing the breath out of me until I wriggle a little and he loosens up, resting his head on my shoulder.

"Holy shit," he says. "Holy shit."

"Yeah," I purr, running my fingers through his hair. "I don't care what you did. I don't care what we have to do. I don't care what anyone says. You are not leaving me. Ever."

"I won't. Ever. Diana, I don't know what we're going to do. I don't know what to do anymore. I'm just
confused
."

"There must be a way. Somebody we can call, somebody-"

"To what? Anybody we call will put me in prison along with my father, and that won't stop us from getting killed. It doesn't matter where I go or where I hide, and now I have you to worry about."

He shifts, still inside me, and presses his cheek against mine as he holds me. "I am so sorry. So sorry. I still have to go."

I dig my nails into him and his whole body jerks.

"No. No, you are not taking this from me. No one will take you away from me."

He shakes his head, just a little. "You don't understand what we're dealing with. They're bad people…"

"I"m not a child. Just tell me."

"He says they're called the Fangs. A terrorist group."

Apollo rolls onto his back and pulls me with him. I wince a little as I shift my weight and slide my hips and he draws out of me.

I'm a mess. I've got leaves in my hair. So does he, for that matter. He sits up as I tug my panties back on, and I kneel beside him and put my head on his shoulder.

There has to be a way. There has to be something we can do.

Chapter 13: Apollo

Everything is different now. It's like the whole world has been repainted in a newer, more vibrant palette. I'm not on the outside anymore. I made it in. I'll never forget the luscious touch of Diana's lips on mine, the feel of her breasts in my hands, her soft skin under my fingers, the look on her face as she took me inside her and started to feel it, the silky tight grip of her sex around my shaft. Jesus, we didn't even use a condom.