PULSE: A Stepbrother Romance (12 page)

“Yeah, I’ve
had to put myself through the ringer to get into this shape.”

“How did you
start?”

“I got into
it not long after I left. It was an opportunity that sort of came out of
nowhere…and I just ran with it.”

“So,
when you say
underground
…”

“Unsanctioned.
I’m not a UFC fighter or anything, and a lot of the places that I’ve fought
have been in improvised cages…gyms, bars, that sort of thing. But there’s a
surprising amount of interest for off-the-records cage fighting.”

I nodded,
listening to him speak. He was coming out of his shell, and I’d never been able
to just have a normal conversation with him. It was somehow uplifting.

“ It can be
nastier…a lot more brutal,” he continued. “I’ve moved around from time to time
with it. But I have a small following. The fans love it when I fight. Usually,
it’s a small tournament or something, but after I’ve developed a local pack of
loyal fans, they’ll come out to see me fight someone one-on-one.”

“How many
guys have you fought?”

“I’ve lost
count. A lot.”

“How many
times have you lost?”

“Very, very
rarely.”

“And why is
that?”

“Because I
just get in the zone,” he answered, looking me straight in the eyes. “It’s the
same thing as riding my motorcycle and hitting the roads. It’s like I stop
thinking…I just start to
react
. It’s instinctive.
I might see my opponent’s moves right before they make them. I can assess them
quickly enough, figure out weak points and just go for it. It helps that I have
a high pain tolerance.”

“From all
those fights you used to get into when we were teenagers?” I asked, almost
coyly.

“Yes…something
like that.” He seemed shy now. “I used to like to push my limits. Figure out
what I can really do. This was pretty much that, turned up to 11.”

“So, are you
fighting again?”

“Well, I’m
semi-retired… but I just committed to a fight in a couple of weeks. Should keep
me busy since things seem pretty calm here. You know, training and everything.”

“Yeah,
about
that…” I almost didn’t dare to
ask. “Why
have
you been avoiding me?
And why the hell did you get sent down here in the first place? If you’re
really supposed to be my bodyguard you’re doing a shitty job of it!”

“I’m
not…I’m not avoiding you,” he lied. “It’s just that…”

Sawyer
paused, staring into space. For a moment, it seemed like he was fighting with something
inside – some deep, internal storm – and I felt suddenly compelled
to just walk over to him and kiss him.

Wait, what?

“I can’t
explain it right now,” he told me, cutting off my thought process. He harbored
a pained expression as he spoke. “I’m going to have to just ask that you trust
me. Whatever you do, I don’t want you to think that I
hate
you – far from it. I’m just…there’s a complication in my
life. It makes me…difficult to be around, I guess. I’m still here for you. I
won’t let anything happen.”

Shoving down
the previous thought process, I could only nod meekly.

“You
don’t…look, I’m going to try to be easier on you,” he told me. “You’ll have to
bear with me, I know that I can be rough on you…but
hate
you? Never.”

I stood up,
moving over to him. As if my body was moving independently of me, I placed my
hand on his shoulder. He looked up at me, but there wasn’t confusion in his
eyes…only…understanding?

Sawyer rose
beside me, so that we were almost chest-to-chest. My hand fell to the side as
he pulled himself onto his feet, and now he seemed to tower above me. His
pronounced muscles were the closest they’d ever been – I barely lifted my
fingers, itching to run the tips along his washboard abs. Unconsciously, I bit
my lip, gazing from his pectorals up, into his eyes.

He was
looking at me with a look I’d never seen before.

It was almost
adoration
.

“Sawyer,” I
murmured his name. I had intended to say something else, some sort of
continuation of the thought, but the rest of the sentence just didn’t happen.

He lifted his
thumb to the tip of my chin, his finger beneath.

“Saffron…I
just…”

At that
moment, the doorbell rang. My eyes caught the nearby clock.

Close to 2PM. Who the hell would be knocking now?

We broke
apart immediately, and he immediately stalked toward the door, looking
incredibly tense.

“Who is it?”
He asked, standing by my side.

“The
cleaners,” I answered.

“Ah.” He
sounded irritated. “I guess I should have just left the spaghetti, then.”

I
chuckled nervously, opening the door. “Yeah, guess so…”

“Hello!” One
of the cleaners chimed up, indicating a nearby car with a maid logo on it,
Sutterville Home Solutions
. “Hope we
weren’t interrupting anything!”

I caught
myself before giving Sawyer a look.

Had they?

And why was I so disappointed?

SAWYER

Chapter 14

PENSACOLA

PRESENT
DAY

T
he cleaners overstayed their welcome
by a short while. It seemed like they particularly enjoyed being in this house.
I could only imagine that they thought this was one of the nicest houses on
their schedule.

Of course,
they had completely destroyed the mood by the time they left. Maybe that was
for the best. I had never gotten that close to losing my restraint around her;
her very scent intoxicated me as she stood at my side, and I could feel the
last restraints breaking free.

Yes
, I told myself.
That was for the best.

My eyes were
opened when she snapped. For the first time, I had
her
side of things to consider…and while I should have been
pleased, actually confronting that information shook me to my very core. I’d
wanted her at arm’s length, but what it…
what
if I was wrong?

While the
cleaners did their thing, Saffron curled up with a book in the small,
downstairs study. She seemed far more relaxed now; sneaking a glance from
around the doorway, I noticed that she looked much happier.
Have I pushed her too hard?
I thought to
myself.

She had
changed into a long shirt and shorts, although the way that she was draped over
the reading chair hid them beneath the shirt. I couldn’t help but picture her
in just the loose-fitting shirt and a pair of panties, and I found myself
getting hard just at the very thought of it. My eyes wandered, scoping her body
while she was preoccupied.

Saffron
turned and coughed.

I immediately
disappeared from the area.

But this
unspoken physical appreciation didn’t appear to be one-sided, as much as I was
afraid of admitting it. I canceled my intentions to do most of my training at
Luke’s gym; for all the equipment he offered, a simple punching bag was not one
of them. Instead, I ordered one and had it delivered and set up at home. There
wasn’t room in the home gym, so I had it mounted outside, underneath an
overhang to shade me from most of the heat. Although I was already fine with
the heat, a large fan helped keep my stamina up in the Pensacola summer.

Saffron came
and watched sometimes. She pulled over a poolside lounging chair and sunbathed,
although I thought I caught her checking out my body a couple of times.
Occasionally, she would bring a book with her, although it seemed that her page
reading speed dramatically dropped when I was working out.

Sometimes,
she took ran a few laps in the pool instead. This, conversely, interfered
somewhat with my workout, although I certainly wasn’t complaining.

I loved to
see the water dripping from her awesome, bare body in that tight bikini she
liked to wear. I made sure that I was punching the bag, doing crunches, or in
the middle of pushups when she surfaced from the water. Out of the corner of my
eye, she seemed to glance over my way every time that she pulled up from the
water to rest, or when she climbed out of the pool at the end.

We continued
this unspoken dance for the duration of my training. If one of us was going
outside, the other found a reason to wait a short while and then follow. It
meant that I didn’t spend a lot of time in the gym proper, but I kept myself at
the peak of physical condition before this little trip, and I needed to ensure
that my fists were up to the challenge anyway. If anything, I was simply given
an excuse to specialize.

It appeared
that my fans had responded well to the Twitter reveal of my upcoming match. I
only logged into the thing a couple of times, offering some small anecdote or
insight into my training, but there was a lot of activity buzzing around about
the fight.

Or, I think
it was a lot.

I don’t
really pay much attention to these things.

Luke called
me in the middle of a punching bag session to tell me that the tickets had
already sold out.

“This thing’s
gonna be a
hit
, man!” He excitedly
burst down the phone. I’d put him on speaker so that I could continue to
assault the bag.

Saffron was
in the pool at the time, although she seemed to take an interest. A small burst
of pride infiltrated my core as she became aware that I was talking to someone
about the upcoming fight, and she paused to rest…although I called it
eavesdropping
.

“Well, that’s
great,” I muttered, my fists striking the bag in a volley.

“What? I
can’t hear you!”

“I
SAID, ‘WELL, THAT’S GREAT!’”

“Awesome,
dude! It’s funny, we actually had to reopen tickets
twice
just because the turnout is gonna be so good. You
sure
you don’t want any of this pot,
man? It’s gonna be hot!”

“I don’t
– care – about the – money!” I groaned, launching fists
between bursts of thought. I stopped, wiping myself off with a rag quickly.
“Look, I said it’s all yours. Just pay the consolation fee out to my contender,
then pocket the rest and keep the place running.”

“If you say
so, man!”

“Speaking of,
Luke, the match is Saturday night…who the fuck
am
I fighting?”

“Got a guy
called
Jabberjaw
lined up for you! Or
some shit, I forget exactly…think that’s it.”

“Jabberjaw?”
I laughed at the ridiculousness of the name. “You’re going to have me knock the
lights out a guy called
Jabberjaw?
I
mean, what’s he gonna do? Talk me to death?”

“Heheh,
something like that, man!” Luke laughed. “He’s a pretty tough dude, man! You’d
better train hard!”

“I’ll be
fine,” I reminded him. “But when do I get to meet the guy?”

“The night of
the fight!”

“That’s not
usually how these things go, Luke,” I admonished him, giving a few fresh
punches to the hanging bag. “Kinda violates the sanctity of the thing, right? I
mean, I’ve never heard of this guy before!”

“All the more
for a better match, right?”

“How so?”

“I’ve seen
you fight, dude! You’re insane! You figure these guys out like it’s
nothing!
How’s about you go in blind for
once, sort everything out when you’re in the cage!”

“I don’t
know, Luke…don’t have the best feeling about that.”

“Nah, it’s
gonna be excellent! The fans are pumped, man! Can you imagine? We might even
advertise the fact!
Reigning veteran
Bonesaw…going in blind!
They’ll eat that shit up!”

“Bonesaw?”
Saffron asked from the side.

I glanced
over at her and nodded wearily. I’d almost forgotten that she was listening.

“Dude, do you
have a chick over? That’s awesome! Is she hot?”

“Better
choose your next words carefully, my friend,” I warned him with gritted teeth.
“That’s my stepsister you’re talking about.”

“Oh
shit, you’ve got a sister? Why didn’t you ever mention a–”

“Shut UP,
Luke,” I growled. “Look, alright, I’ll do a fight blind. Just this once. But if
you pull a stunt like this again, that’s me
out
for the summer. No more matches in your cage. You got it?”

“Yeah, yeah
man, I get it,” Luke answered sadly. “No more blind bouts. We cool?”

“We cool,” I
muttered, hanging up the line.

“You’ve never
mentioned me?”

I glanced up.
Saffron was standing by the pool, wiping herself dry with a towel. For a split
second, I wished I were the towel, before I realized how stupid a thought that
was.

“No,” I answered
her. “They never knew anything about you, or our parents, or the life of
privilege I left behind…my past was a ghost to them. I have always valued my
privacy, after all...”

She thought
on my words, looking troubled for a moment, but before I could say anything she
continued pressing. “Did they ever ask?” She was brushing off the side of her
head with the towel now, before letting it drape at her side as she walked
over.

“A few times,
maybe. I usually shut them down.”

“I see…”

My stepsister
seemed a lot more comfortable around me. I’d never seen her in a bathing suit,
and now she was in her bikini
all the
time
around me. I wasn’t sure what angle she was playing, or if she thought
she was just being coy, but it was sending me some seriously mixed signals.

Just brush it aside,
I reminded
myself.
You wanted this. Just let her
have her fun. It’s not going to go anywhere, and the two of you know it.

“Well, in
that case, do I get to see you fight?”

“Absolutely
not.”

“And why
not?” She looked disgruntled, but playfully – almost as if she were
toying with me. I wasn’t sure if I liked it or not.

“Because I
said
no
. And you’re supposed to stick
around the house, remember?”

“Sawyer,
Dad’s just paranoid. Nothing is going to happen. I’m a grown woman now. You
can’t just boss me around.”

“Are you sure
you want to see me like that? In a cage, beating the shit out of some punk? Is
that what you want?”

“Maybe,” she
conceded, a mischievous look in her eyes.

What is her DEAL these days?

“This isn’t
some little high school wrestling match, Saffron. This is an underground cage
match. I’m going into a box with a stranger, and our only concerns will be
bludgeoning the other until somebody gives up or stays down,” I chided her. “It
can get brutal. I’ve spilled
blood
on
more than one occasion…most of them, actually. Faces have been crushed, even
mine. It’s probably going to get savage.”

She hesitated
for a moment. “I still want to see it,” my stepsister answered, running her
hand along my sweaty arm, feeling the muscles. It sent a ripple of excitement
down my spine that I barely controlled. “I’ve spent so long being antagonized
by you…I want to see you do it to someone else. I want to see you let all that
anger out…and beat someone down with it.
That’s
what I want.”

I became
highly aware of my breathing, but kept myself in restraint. She was
only
in a tiny little bikini…oh, what I
would have given to show her what I could do with my body.

It would have
been easy to pluck those strings and toss the minimal fabric aside, carry her
over to the pool, and drop between her thighs as she sat on the edge. I’d dig
my fingertips into her thighs on either side, lapping away at those delicious
juices from her wet pussy…and then I’d take her over to that sunbathing chair
she loved so much, shove her down onto all fours over it, and fuck her like an
animal.

Maybe I’d
even finish up by bringing her around to the front, where we were technically
in the open and almost
anyone
could
come down the driveway, and put her on her knees. I’d have my thick cock down
her throat, making her polish her own wetness off of my rock-hard erection
before she swallowed it all…

“Sawyer,” she
mumbled, and I followed her gaze.

Shit. What the fuck is wrong with me?

I had an
unmistakable erection, tenting my boxing shorts. I hesitated, considering
pulling her onto her knees or into my grasp, but she withdrew her hand from my arm
and turned away. I spun around and fixed myself, cursing my active imagination.
Why NOW? Why couldn’t I just jack it
later to these thoughts?

“Listen,
I…I’m going to go inside,” she muttered quickly, walking towards the entrance.
“But I do want to see you fight.”

“Fat chance
of that,” I told her.