Hitched: A Stepbrother Honeymoon Romance (18 page)

“And then we leave,” Laney says, looking down at the floor.

And then we leave. The end of the honeymoon. I haven’t even been thinking about it, but she’s right. After two days of staying away from each other, the Coconut Classic ends, and we get on a plane and go back to LA.

Like none of this ever happened.

But it did happen.

And as far as I’m concerned, it’s still fucking happening, no matter how many assholes with cameras are walking around.

I point over to the tuna steaks. “Kayla brought lunch. Are you hungry?”

Laney nods. “Oh, God, yes, I’m starving.”

We sit at the kitchen counter for a little while, devouring tuna steaks and talking about the honeymoon. Laney’s trying to put on a happy face, but I can see the fear in her eyes. She keeps looking over to the door like she’s afraid someone’s literally going to break it down, and every time I bring up sex, the honeymoon, or the future, she quickly changes the subject. It’s like those awkward conversations from two years ago all over again. Finally, as Laney cuts up her last bite of tuna, I get up and walk into the bedroom. A couple seconds later, I come out and slam the Make Tonight Special catalog down in front of her.

“Well if they’re going to cut this short,” I say, “Let’s make sure we get our fucking money’s worth. Order whatever you want, and don’t be shy. We’ll put it in my bag on the plane ride back.”

I can see the conflicting emotions swirling around behind Laney’s eyes. “Travis, we can’t keep doing this.”

I raise my eyebrows at Laney, who presses her legs together. “Laney…” My voice is calm, but firm. “Did you just say what I think you said?”

Laney freezes, finally bringing her head into a slow nod. I smile and shake my head. “I think we’re going to have to do something about that.”

I grab the catalog off the kitchen counter and walk into the bedroom. When Laney realizes what I’m about to do, she runs after me, but it’s too late: I’ve already picked up the phone.

“Hey, room service? I’d like to make tonight special.”

“Travis, no!” Laney lunges for the phone, but I pull away before she can reach it.

“Yeah, my wife’s being very naughty right now, and I think I’m going to need a number…94.”

I flip the catalog around and show Laney what I ordered: a long, thick riding crop, much bigger than the one we used in our room last night. She gasps when she sees it, but it isn’t all fear in her eyes. “The paparazzi are going to find out……”

“No, no, that’s all for now. I’ll let you know if she keeps misbehaving. Fifteen minutes, huh? Perfect. Thanks.” I put the phone back on the receiver, and look at Laney, who’s lying on the bed, looking up at the ceiling.

“We’re doomed.”

“Sis, we were doomed the second you walked in here dressed like the horniest fucking librarian in Hawaii. Actually, you know what?”

I climb into bed with Laney, pressing my strength down into her. “We were doomed the second we met. Honeymoon or no honeymoon.”

The feeling of Laney lying beneath me, stuffed into those ridiculous fucking business clothes, is starting to make my cock hard. I can feel Laney starting to react, too. Slowly but surely, her legs spread apart, letting me get closer and closer to her. But then, right when she’s ready to kiss me, the room starts to fill with a low thrumming noise. Somewhere up above us, a helicopter’s flying over.

Laney tenses up and tries to pull away.

“Really? You think that’s them?”

“It could be,” Laney says.

Shrugging, I pull the top blanket out from under Laney, walk over to the window, and black it out, plunging the room into darkness.

And once I’m nice and sure that nobody’s going to be taking pictures of us in here, I walk up to the side of the bed. “Get up,” I say, my hands grabbing the sides of Laney’s hips. Laney pushes herself up off the bed, but as soon as she gets up onto her hands and knees, she stays there for a couple seconds too long.

Honestly, I was just going to strip her clothes off and lay her back down on the bed, but we could do it this way, too. “Hey, if you say so.”

Laney gasps as my hands travel down the sides of her legs, spreading her knees apart as I position myself behind her.

“Wait, isn’t someone coming by to drop off that…thing you ordered? We should probably be ready for them, you know?”

I smirk, then reach my hand up to Laney’s head, pulling the pencil out from behind her ear and taking off her glasses. “I guess you’d better come fast, then.”

Then, in one smooth motion, I hook my fingers into the insides of Laney’s waistband and pull everything down to her thighs, revealing the hot, trembling curves that she was trying to hide under that nice, professional skirt. Laney lets out a moan, and before she can even breathe in again, I’m sheathed and inside her, sliding her all the way back onto my cock as I thrust my hips forward against her.

I’d laugh at the way Laney was dressed if it wasn’t so fucking hot. Her skirt is bunched up around her knees, and her little black bun of hair is bouncing wildly up and down with every thrust. I hope she feels as dirty as she looks.

But however dirty she feels, it’s not even close to enough. I want her to know exactly what’s going to happen the next time she comes around me and acts like we’re just friends. Just stepsiblings. And I’m going to keep doing it as often as I need to get the fucking message across. So first, I start unbuttoning her shirt. Not all the way, of course, because I don’t want her to forget what she chose to wear around me. No, I just take it down to right below her tits, just enough to expose her completely. I slide my hands into Laney’s now-open shirt, cupping her tits and pulling them up out of her bra, feeling them move in my hands as I fuck her.

Then, I decide to do something about that fucking bun. Keeping one hand right on Laney’s nipple, I bring the other one up to caress her head, neck, and face, before finally grabbing that little bouncing bun and pulling it apart until Laney’s long, black hair is wild and free, moving down her shoulders like dark water. She may have walked in here professional and proper, but now she looks like the naughtiest secretary in the whole office, going absolutely wild for the cock that’s thrusting between her legs.

Shit, I almost forgot. Somebody’s going to be knocking on the door soon, and Laney hasn’t come yet. I was so caught up in stripping off her clothes that I almost made it easy for her.

But where’s the fun in that? They must be coming any minute now, so with a smirk, I slow
way
down, moving my cock in and out like a piston at half speed.

Laney moans with need and backs further up onto me, desperate to finish herself off before we have company. I’m trying to tease her a little bit, but she’s not making it easy. With the way she’s pressed hard up against me, her perfect ass grinding into my abs, I feel myself starting to speed up again, and there’s not much I can fucking do about it. Meanwhile, Laney’s furiously bucking her hips up against me, trying to get me to speed up enough to send her over the edge just in the nick of time.

And yeah, I speed up, but it isn’t until I bring my hand up to Laney’s hair, wrap my fingers around it, and gently pull back that she finally explodes, shouting out, shuddering, and taking me right over the edge with her.

A few seconds later, Laney collapses down into the bed, half dressed and totally satisfied. I lie down with her, pulling her body into my arms. “Fuck the paparazzi, Laney. This isn’t their story. It’s ours.”

Laney doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t pull away either. And before too long, there’s a knock at the door.

“Stay right here,” I say, rolling out of bed and answering the door. It’s a guy wearing a Royal Shores uniform and holding a long, thin, cardboard box.

“Delivery?”

“Fuck yeah.” I take the cardboard box from the guy and set it down on the floor beside the door. “Hey, you know what?”

“Yes?”

“Could you come back in another half hour or so with some other shit from that catalog?”

The employee smiles. “Sure, what do you want?”

I shrug. “Surprise me.”

“Alright, I’ll be back in half an hour,” he says, disappearing into the hall as I shut the door behind him.

Hey, if this is the fucking end, I might as well go crazy, right?

Somehow, whatever that guy brings up here in half an hour, I have a feeling that I’m not going to have much time to plan my tricks for tomorrow. Leaning against the door, I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and visualize the track again.

You know what, though? Fuck that. When the time comes, I’m just going to get up on my bike and do whatever the hell I want. Play it by ear. Surprise people.

My eyes drift over to the dark bedroom, where Laney’s lying there, waiting for me to come back in.

I’m going to surprise people, all right. I’m going to surprise everybody.

Chapter 21: Laney

Oh God, take me off the jumbotron. Come on…come on…cut away…act natural……

Whew, it’s back to Travis. I was probably only on TV for ten seconds, but it definitely felt like ten minutes. Of course, no one watching is going to notice me specifically, not with Nina sitting right next to me in a full-on Academy Awards dress, but still, I’m sure the announcers identified us as “Travis’ family.”

Out on the track, Travis launches himself off the ramp, does a backflip completely off his bike, then grabs the seat with his feet just in time to stick the landing. The crowd goes nuts, but next to me, Nina shakes her head. “I don’t understand why he doesn’t do modeling full-time. You can’t make any connections like this, and you can’t break your neck on a runway.”

You know, I’m pretty sure you
could
break your neck on a runway, but I don’t feel like engaging Nina in conversation right now. On the other side of Nina, my Dad speaks up. “He wouldn’t be where he is today if he was just a pretty face, honey.” I wince, thinking about all the times that Travis has called me “honey” over the past week.

Nina rolls her eyes. “Of course not. But that doesn’t mean that he should keep doing it. That’s what these sorts of things are for: building your brand, and then cashing out.”

Travis makes a little more sense whenever I have to listen to Nina talk for more than a couple of minutes: who wouldn’t rebel with a mom who’s so obsessed with keeping up appearances? I can practically imagine him buying a dirt bike just to piss her off as a messy-haired little thirteen-year-old. And look at him now: wild, reckless, and ridiculously talented, with a packed stadium watching his every move.

Travis finishes his first round, and the whole crowd jumps to their feet, giving him a standing ovation. I join them, wincing as I stand up. Honestly, after Travis did to me last night, I’m surprised I
can
stand up. Nina even noticed that I was walking a little funny on the way to the stadium; I told her I’d been hitting the hotel gym while I was there, and she spent the whole car ride telling me all about how gyms are overrated and that if I really wanted to get in shape, I should do something called a “tomato cleanse.” But hey, at least she doesn’t suspect anything.

If I understand the format right, Travis has one more round to play, and then the judges average their scores together. And so far, I haven’t seen anyone who can really top that first round. But the guy who’s on the track now is starting to make me a little nervous. He’s decked out in all black except for a Brazilian flag on the back of his jacket, and it seems like he’s doing pretty much the same routine as Travis. The crowd is eating it up, and when he does the same backflip move off the big ramp, the whole stadium goes absolutely crazy. Shouldn’t the judges dock him points for being a copycat? Or at least give Travis an advantage for doing everything first?

With a suspiciously identical finish, the Brazilian biker rides off the track, and next guy rides on and starts doing his routine. He doesn’t look that good, so I lean back and start to mentally prepare myself for round two.

But before I can get comfortable, I hear a voice coming from my left. “Nina!”

I turn my head to follow the voice, and then immediately try not to wince as I see Anna walking down the aisle. I knew she was going to be here, but I was kind of hoping I could make it through the tournament without having to actually, you know, see her.

I want to grab the sleeve of the girl sitting next to me and tell her not to give up her seat, but before I can, Anna slips her some money and she’s gone, leaving me stuck between my stepmother and my boss.

“How are you?” Anna asks, looking straight past me like I’m not even here.

Nina beams. “I’m wonderful, thanks. You know there’s nothing I love more than spending time with my family.”

She hugs my dad and pats me on the head for emphasis. “How’s work? Found anything juicy out here?”

Anna shakes her head, and a little vein twitches in her forehead. “Not yet. The celebrities saw us coming and holed up in their rooms. Some of them even threw blankets over the windows.”

My heart skips a couple beats as I stare straight ahead, watching the bikers.