Authors: Aya Fukunishi

Stepbrother Fallen (17 page)

BOOK: Stepbrother Fallen

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He lights his cigarette and takes a long
pull. "Enough about me, though. I want to hear about
Mongolia."

I take a swig of my beer and sigh. "You've
read the book. It's all in there. I had to fill 300 pages, you
know? I didn't leave much to the imagination."

"No, I want to know what isn't in the book. I already know
you named your horse Binky because you love Terry Pratchett. I know
you fell in love with the food, and learned how to make buuz and
khuushuur on a coal stove, and I know you made that leather jacket
you're wearing with your own two hands. Those are details for your
fans." He flicks the glowing butt of his cigarette over the side,
and we both watch it as it falls to the street below. "I want to
know how you really felt while you were over there. Did it turn out
to be what you expected? You know, back when you were
writing
Jaisalmer Dawn
?"

I blush. "Jesus, I hadn't thought of that
story for years until you mentioned it in the store. I don't even
remember how it went anymore."

Rafe smiles and looks out into the night.
"
Naresh wept
joyous tears on the parched desert sand, and Meena watched as they
mingled with her own and grew to become a great river. The waters
washed away all that had gone before. The pain. The solitude. Even
the palace was taken by the torrent, but Naresh felt no sorrow. His
fortune may be gone, but in its ruins he'd found love. Not even a
king could ask for more.
"

I stare open mouthed at Rafe. "How the
hell...?"

He slips a hand inside his jacket and pulls
out the little black Moleskine notebook I remember so well. I try
to pluck it out of his hand, but he takes my wrist. I can feel my
pulse racing beneath his grip.

"I took it from the diner. I was gonna send
it back to you, but you never wrote me and I didn't have your
address. After a while... well, it was the only thing I had to
remember you. I didn't want to part with it. Here, it's
yours."

Rafe holds out the little notebook, and I
remember the first time he picked it up. I remember that morning in
the diner, and the way I felt when I saw his eyes flit over the
words I'd wrote. I remember the joy I felt when he told me I was
good. I remember the moment, right there, sitting across from Rafe
on a squeaky vinyl bench seat with the remains of an Insanity
Burger on my plate, when I first felt the confidence to write.

"No," I reply, pulling open his jacket and
slipping the notebook back in his pocket, "it's yours now.”

I know I should pull my hand away. I know I
should go back downstairs, hail a cab, head back to the hotel and
get some sleep before the long flight home. I know I should show up
at the studio to film my spot on the damned Ellen Show, smile for
the camera, sell my book, make my money, and head back out into the
world and write the next one. I know I should leave right now.

But I don't want to. I don't want to pull
back my hand. I don't want to leave. As my fingers touch the firm
muscles beneath Rafe's jacket I know there's only one way this can
go. I knew it from the moment I saw him in the store.

I feel Rafe's hand reach beneath my jacket,
and his fingers slide around my side. He pulls me toward him, and I
don't resist. I can feel his warm breath on my lips.

“
I want to be there when you write
your next story, Princess," he whispers, pulling me closer. "All of
them."

I close my eyes and lean in, and the moment
our lips meet it all comes flooding back. I hear David Bowie
singing through my bedroom wall. I feel the grooves of Rafe's
Elliot Smith record, and I remember the taste of Marlboros and
chili sauce.

Now the hunger overwhelms me. Seven years
of yearning, pushed down, suppressed and bottled up with all my
strength... it all comes boiling to the surface at the touch of
Rafe's lips. His kiss awakens me, and I can tell from the strength
of his grip around my waist he feels the same.

I pull away from him for a moment. “Where's
your place?” I ask, urgently.

He shakes his head. “Way uptown. I can't
wait. Here?” He gestures to the empty rooftop.

“
Here,” I nod, almost laughing at the
fact that for the second time we've been overcome by lust in such a
place. First the car park of a diner and now a rooftop. Fuck it. I
have no control over my need for him, and this won't hold until
we've found silk sheets sprinkled with rose petals.

Rafe pulls off his jacket and tosses it
carelessly to the floor before kicking off his shoes and
unbuttoning onto his shirt. I tear off my jacket and fumble with my
jeans, transfixed by the sight of Rafe's growing erection tenting
the crotch of his suit trousers.

After much struggling I manage to get rid
of my pants, and I'm thankful I chose a pair of halfway sexy
panties today. Rafe kicks off his pants, and in the moonlight his
body is magnificent. The last time I saw him naked he was tight,
toned and skinny, but in the years since then he's bulked up more
than a little. He doesn't have an ounce of fat on him, and his
firm, tight muscles have been painted by yet more ink. His chest is
adorned with tribal markings, and on his shoulders I see what look
like prison tats, roughly drawn but perfect nonetheless.

Rafe's eyes run hungrily across my body,
taking in my own slender form. Gone is the puppy fat that used to
cling so stubbornly to my belly, replaced by the taut, flat stomach
I earned through two long, hard winters in the saddle. I can see
from his hungry eyes that Rafe has noticed the difference, and I
revel in the pleasure of showing off my new, tight body.

I lower myself to the ground and rest on my
jacket to protect my skin from the cold stone. Rafe lowers himself
down above me, sliding between my splayed legs. He leans in, slips
one arm around my back and supports himself with the other, and I
gasp as he slides himself inside. It's just as I remember it... the
momentary fear of taking a cock that large, biting my lip and
waiting for the pain that doesn't come. My body accepts him,
spreads to accommodate him and clenches tight around him.

As Rafe slips inside I moan loudly, my
voice echoing across the rooftops, and I know we could be seen by
anyone who chose to look out their window. I don't care. They can
watch.

“
Jesus, I missed you,” Rafe whispers,
his hips undulating smoothly back and forth.

I don't reply. There's nothing to say, and nothing I
can
say. All my energy
is devoted to the moment, to feeling Rafe inside me. Right now I
can barely remember my own name.

All I know, as the heat radiating from
Rafe's body protects me from the April night chill, is that there's
nowhere on earth I'd rather be. All I know – the same thing I knew
the last time Rafe was inside me – is that I never want this to
end. As my first climax quickly arrives, sparking every nerve
ending into life and sending a delicious tingle through my body
from head to toe, I know that nothing else matters as long as I can
be Rafe's Princess, and he can be my Prince.

That's all I ever wanted.

Penny's yelling down the phone. She's...
well, she's not happy.

"Madison, you can't just back out at the
last minute like this! It took us weeks to get you a spot on the
show!"

"I'm really sorry, Penny. Look, it's the
last day of the tour anyway. It's just one show, OK? Just tell them
I'm sick or something. Please?"

Penny sighs. She knows it's too late. Ellen
tapes her show in Burbank at 4, and there's no way I could possibly
get there in time. It's already almost 11AM. Even if I left right
now and hit green lights from here to LA it'd still be too late.
The flight I was due to take left long ago, ferrying my angry,
hungover mother back to the west coast with dad. It's all over.
Ellen will have to make do without me. I'm sure she'll
survive.

Listen, Pen, I want you to cancel
everything today. I'm done with the tour.”

Penny's not happy. “Look, Maddy, I know I encouraged you to
hook up with Rafe but I didn't mean you should throw away your
career over him. I don't know if you've gone crazy or what, but you
have to think about your future. You can't just fuck over your
publisher so you can have a fling with an old flame. I'm telling
you this as a friend, Mad.
Please
don't fuck this up for yourself.”

I look across the airport concourse to the
ticketing desk, where Rafe smiles and gives me the thumbs up. I
can't keep the grin from my face. I'm just too excited.

“
Pen, I promise you I'm not fucking
anything up. You can tell your boss that I've made a decision about
my next book. You can tell him to start drawing up the contract,
OK?”

“
You mean you know what you're gonna
write? Seriously?” Penny's boss and my agent has been pushing me
for a new idea for three months now, ever since The Gobi Rider
started flying off the shelves.

“
Yeah, Pen, I know what I'm going to
write.” Rafe strolls back towards me with a smile, two tickets and
our passports in his hand. I catch a glimpse of the destination on
the ticket: Jodhpur, the Blue City, just a day's drive from our
true destination in the middle of the baking Thar
Desert.

“
The book will be called
Jaisalmer
Dawn
.” I
take Rafe's hand, look up at his perfect, beautiful face and lose
myself in those piercing blue eyes. In them I see not just love,
but our future rolling out ahead of us. I see endless
possibilities, excitement and adventure. I can't look away. I don't
want to, ever again. “I have to go, Pen. They're calling my
flight.”

I hang up the phone, slip it in my jacket
pocket and flash Rafe a smile. “You ready to go?”

Rafe taps his Ray Bans down from his
forehead, wraps his arms around my back, pulls me close and grins.
“Princess, I was born ready.”