Bossy (27 page)

“Good, because like I said, I’m not the type that likes to share. This body is mine to enjoy. Mine.”

From this angle, he feels even bigger than normal, and doubly so as he moves, filling and unfilling me with deep thrusts. God, it feels so good. He has one hand on my shoulder, forcing me down and letting him pull me onto him while he keeps the other over my mouth to keep me quiet. I can’t stop moaning, but at least they won’t hear me in the hall.

I hope.

I’m so keyed up and sensitive that every thrust pushes me closer to completion. I want to reach between my legs and help things along but he hisses and stops me.

“Hands on the edge. You’ll come when I want you to,” he orders.

My fingers wrap around the cool wood and I rotate my hips as I fuck myself back onto his cock. He can be as bossy as he wants, but I’ll never be sweet and passive.

Good thing he seems to like me a little bossy too.

“Fuck, I want to do this to you every day.” Declan’s words are raspy and short, said between harsh breaths and clenched teeth.

His hand on my shoulder moves up to my hair, using it to pull me against him. The back of the bench is hard and rough against my stomach, but I barely notice. He fills me deeply, and I bite down on his fingers trying not to scream as he pounds relentlessly. God, to do this every day. I don’t even know if I’d be able to take it, but I’m willing to try.

The slaps of flesh against flesh echo through the room over a constant chorus of quiet moans and groans. My muscles clench and my vision blurs as my whole world becomes the delicious sensations that surge from my clenching pussy. I shiver, my fingers clutching the seat for support. I’m going to come, bent over a courtroom bench and right out in the open, fucked senseless by my gorgeous, horrible, sweet, conceited, sarcastic and brilliant stepbrother.

It’s a crazy world we live in.

I’m so close, but he holds back just enough to keep me hanging.

“Do you love me?” He growls next to my ear, letting his hand drop away from my mouth.

I shake my head. He’s asking for too much.

“Claire Anderson, I’m dangerously close to screaming it next time I ask. Do you love me?” Declan’s fingers find their way between my legs and he teases me until my legs are shaking and I can barely take it. “Do you?”

“Do YOU?” I gasp, vision blurry with tears of frustration.

“Yes.”

One word. Three letters. Huge.

I can’t hold it back anymore, and he doesn’t even try to tease me now, giving it to me exactly how I want and need him to.

“Do you?” he whispers again.

Stars burst behind my tightly closed eyelids. “Yes!” I scream, both in response to his question, and relief as my whole body goes rigid and I quake in his arms.

He fucks me through it all, but the tight grasp of my sex around him proves his undoing. Right after I finally admit the depth of my feelings, he fills me one last time and explodes inside me. Sex has always been amazing between us, but this was something new. Better. It was a hot, desperate battle to claim each other, and I don’t think anything will ever be the same.

F
or a long time, he just holds me, stroking my slick skin. Time stands still, the both of us trapped in the moment. Eventually he has to pull out, and I sigh at the pang of loss.

Neither of us have the energy to go anywhere. Declan pulls me down with him onto one of the benches. It’s cold and hard, but curled up with him after the orgasm of my life, I don’t really mind. Now that it’s over though, I’m self-conscious about what we said.

“Declan... what you asked. It was the heat of the moment and I know it doesn’t—”

“Stop.” He pulls me back onto his chest and strokes the hair away from the sides of my face, looking down at me. “I’m not playing that game. I meant it. I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since the night we met, and even though when I met you again it seemed like we couldn’t be more wrong for each other, you’re it for me. These past few days without you have been hell.”

“A few weeks ago we hated each other,” I remind him.

“Shit, I never hated you. What you represented maybe. Never you.”

“I’ll be going back to school soon.” I’m grasping for reasons to push him away and I’m sure he can tell.

“Claire, we’ll figure it out.”

“We hurt each other.”

His chest rises and falls in a nearly silent laugh. “And we’ll probably do it again, but trust me. It will never be on purpose.”

“How can you know that?”

He’s quiet, and I feel him press a kiss against the top of my head. “Because I saw your face when you thought I’d betrayed you, and I would rather tear out my own heart than see that again.”

My eyes start to burn as tears threaten to fall. “Shut up.” I sniffle.

“No.” Declan surprises me by shuffling me off his lap and dropping to one knee on the dusty floor next to us. The floor that’s still littered with our clothes. “I won’t shut up. Not about this.”

Oh God. This can’t be happening.

“What are you doing? Get up.”

“Claire Anderson, I don’t know what I did to deserve being here with you, but you’re stuck with me. I fucking love you, and if you’ll have me, I want to make it official. Marry me.”

“What?” I squeak.

“Marry me.”

Never in my life have I been a girl that daydreamed about a proposal, a fancy wedding, or a house with a white picket fence. But everyone, and I don’t care who they are, has ideas about how it happens.

Those ideas never included anything close to being naked in an empty courtroom after screwing my stepbrother while a riot is going on outside the room. You can’t make this shit up.

“You’re crazy.” I shake my head in disbelief.

He arches an eyebrow. “Is that a no? Because I have to warn you, I’ll keep asking.”

“No, it’s—”

“So it’s a yes?”

“No!” Ugh! He’s incorrigible. Life with Declan would be anything but dull.

Am I seriously thinking about this?

“I have to say, you’re sending mixed signals. Can I just pick one? Because I’d prefer to go with ‘yes’.”

“Shut up!” I smack him in the shoulder and laugh, tears in my eyes.

Declan just grins. “Marry me.”

“You really aren’t going to take no for an answer, are you?” Holy crap I think I’m about to get engaged. Am I really going to do this?

“Marry me.”

“Fine!”

He’s going to drive me crazy. I know it. I’m signing myself up for a lifetime of insanity, and I can’t stop grinning at the thought.

Sliding my arms up, I wrap them around his strong neck and pull him towards me. His soft hair catches between my fingers as I clutch him, clinging while we kiss, deeply and passionately.

Someone bumps against one of the doors, almost pushing it open. Hard enough to make the handle click. I pull away reluctantly, giggling at his disappointed groan. “We need to get dressed, before someone comes in.”

He makes a grab at me. “I don’t fucking care. You said yes, and I think that requires celebratory sex.”

Pulling my arm just out of reach, I get to my feet, gathering my clothes up off the floor. “Sorry. You’re just going to have to follow me home.”

“It’s my home too, you know.”

I pull my lower lip between my teeth and start putting on my bra. “Perfect, we can use both our rooms then.”

“Soon-to-be Mrs. Riordan Jr., I like the way you think.”

“Uh, that’s a bit of a mouthful. Maybe you can be Mr. Anderson.”

“In your dreams,” he scoffs.

Once we get our clothes back on, we open the doors to find our witness Lloyd Peterson with his tongue halfway down the throat of a woman with “Weld Wench” written across the back of her shirt.

I shake my head. “At least we had the grace to get a room.”

Declan throws his head back and laughs.

I love that sound, and I love making him make it.

I love him, period.

T
hree years to finish my degree.

Three months of planning.

Three days of panic because my dress no longer fits.

Sliding my hand over the barely there bump on my belly, I smile.

Our parents thought it was a little strange that we wanted to get married at the same castle they did, but in a lot of ways that day was as much of a turning point for me and Declan as it was for them. The memories weren’t all good, but they led to something that is quite frankly, awesome.

But no videos for us.

The music starts up, and I look over at Carl, who is walking me down the aisle.

He squeezes my hand. “This is it, kiddo.”

My mother walks out first, and I catch sight of Declan and Garrett waiting for us at the altar. My stomach flutters.

At the right moment, we step through the doors, and my knees almost buckle when I see the way Declan’s eyes are focused on me. I’m the center of his universe. Me and the little bean who caused so much trouble with the dressmaker.

I smile back, holding in a laugh as he fingers the panties he once again has stuffed in his breast pocket. Some things never change.

Some things do.

Like the fact that from the day of the disastrous Cooper trial, Declan kept his word and I’ve never had cause to doubt him.

Fill his car with Styrofoam packing balls yes, doubt him no.

He didn’t mind. Anyone who hires a singing clown to serenade someone in class on their birthday knows a little payback is in order.

Carl steps to the side when we get to the altar, turning me over to Declan.

I’ll never get over how fantastic my husband looks. Almost four years since we met, and he still takes my breath away. Standing tall next to me, he doesn’t seem to have an ounce of the jitters that are ravaging my stomach like there’s a whole colony of butterflies in there. I grip his hand tightly, and he squeezes back.

Six months ago we joined together professionally as the long absent and fondly remembered Flynn was taken off the books and replaced with Anderson. Garrett is still technically in charge, but he’s stepped back, and Declan is taking over more of the high profile cases. It was touch and go for a bit after the Cooper fiasco—which ended up in a settlement after all—but he started small again, volunteering his time for pro bono legal assistance until he was back in his father’s good graces.

Today we join as man and wife.

“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen. We are gathered here today to join Declan and Claire in the bonds of matrimony.”

Declan squeezes my hand, and I look up into the face of the man I love.

“I want to fuck you,” he mouths.

“Later,” I reply silently.

Rebel

A Stepbrother Romance

“C
ome on, Angie, you’ve totally got this. Just talk to him!”

Cassie’s grip on my arm is so tight it hurts, but she refuses to let go. Her words come a million miles per second which is a lot to handle on any regular day. Tonight, it’s like dodging machine gun bullets. Vibrating with excitement, she acts like she has more at stake in this than I do, and that’s saying something. My stake’s pretty freaking big, after all. She yells into my ear, her voice carrying clearly over the loud dance music, “I think he’s perfect.”

Clubs aren’t really my scene. Why blow out your eardrums when you can curl up with a good book and a cup of tea? They’re so chaotic, with all the noise and lights everywhere. I mean, I’m not against going out or anything, but I don’t really keep up with what’s hot either, so by the time I know the songs, they’re already completely last year. Dancing to music you don’t know isn’t nearly as much fun as it’s cracked up to be.

This is such a bad idea. Only Cassie would think of something this stupidly insane and somehow manage to make it sound reasonable. I think she does it through attrition, wearing my sensibilities down until there’s nothing left. It makes her too freaking persuasive for her own good. Or for mine.

But, what Cassie wants, Cassie gets. I used to try to resist, before I really got to know her, but I gave that up a long time ago. Totally not worth the trouble. She just goes ahead and does what she wants anyway.

I glance cautiously at the guy she’s singled out, swallowing nervously and hoping he won’t notice. He’s crazy hot, like get your panties wet just at the sight hot. Wild, spiky black hair, chiseled jaw. Broad-chested and narrow-hipped, he wears a black t-shirt that looks painted onto his sculpted torso. Tall and muscled, he could’ve been a romance cover model. I don’t see how she thinks I have a chance with him. He can have his pick of any girl in the club, so why would he even look in my direction? I wouldn’t. This is dumb.