Authors: Elisa Elliot
ROMANCE: Mason (Bad Boy Alpha Male Stepbrother Romance Boxset) (New Adult Contemporary Stepbrother Romance Collection) (260 page)
He groaned against my lips and my hips thrust out against him, feeling the soft vibrations that tingled my mouth. His scent engulfed me, impossibly sweeter than his lips yet strangely tainted, tainted with something else so much more delicious. I could barely breathe as he deepened the kiss, the moment of passion causing my senses to explode.
Then it was over as quickly as it had begun, his lips slowly left mine, leaving behind them a lingering pleasure. I touched my finger to my lips, feeling the tenderness, the overly sensitive tingling that he had caused. “I like you Leah,” Matt whispered again.
This time the words truly registered and despite everything, the hammering of my heart and my shivering body I smiled. “I might just like you too,” I whispered.
My first party had contained everything the stories had promised; an argument with my dad, a drunken nightmare and a kiss, my first real kiss. While I doubted I would ever go to another, as I gazed a Matt’s smile and felt the tender spot where he had kissed me, I knew I would at least never forget this one.
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Chapter One
As far as predictions go, I could never in a million years have predicted what was happening right in front of my eyes. The third moving van in less than an hour pulled up in front of my house, equally as large and probably equally as full as the two that had come before it. I stared in shock as the doors swung open and the newest procession of furniture began to pile out of the back. Even the men whose job it was to unload the contents seemed to be wavering in energy and probably were similarly as stunned as me at just how many things were being carted into my once cosy and well-organized home.
Of course I had known that this day had been coming for quite a while, ever since my dad’s wedding I had been reluctantly counting down the short days until my home was to be over-run, but even then in my wildest dreams I couldn’t have imagined just how over-run it was about to become. My dad’s honeymoon had only come to an end a couple of days ago and in the days since everything had been a flourish of activity to make room for his wife and her son’s possessions. It seemed though, as yet another wardrobe, the fourth I had counted was pulled off the van we could never have made enough room for everything; even if we had emptied the house completely.
At the end of the day I knew it was a short price to pay to get to stay in our own home and that the copious amounts of furniture and belongings mattered little in the great scheme of things. So far my dad had seemed happy and for that I was thankful. I would be moving out next year anyway; at eighteen years old I suppose I had little say left with the accommodation arrangements, especially since, in the long run, they would hardly impact me. Unless of course if my dad got himself lost amongst the jumble of furnishings which, as a second dining room table got pulled from the van, was becoming more and more likely.
Sighing I drew my eyes away from the spectacle that had engrossed me for the last hour, only now noticing that I wasn’t the sole audience to the display. Sat across the street with his back rested against the neighbor's wall and with an equally as amused expression as my own was Conner. The man, just a year older than me, was someone I had hardly expected to see today; in the short time I had known him he had proved to be extremely allusive. I debated for a moment whether or not I should go over to him, technically I suppose he was my new step-brother; even now I cringed a little at the thought.
I had maybe had two conversations with him before, each likely to have been less than a minute long. Despite our new family ties I barely recognized him; his hair was much shorter now than it had been just a few weeks ago. It was cut short; the dark brown only just brushed his forehead where it stuck up slightly, a deep contrast to the shoulder length hair I remembered him to have. The last time I had seen him, at the wedding, he had of course been wearing a suit; now he was dressed casually in black jeans and a tight white shirt. His biker boots scuffed the pavement as he kicked a stray stone, his eyes still fixed intently on the men.
Relenting to my more curious side I crossed the road towards him. “Conner?” I asked, feeling a little unsure when he didn’t look up to greet me; perhaps he didn’t recognize me.
A moment of silence passed between us, slowly he picked up the leather jacket beside him; for a second I thought he might get up and walk off but surprisingly gestured to the spot next to him that his jacket had previously occupied. “Natalie,” he greeted casually.
The shocked expression disappeared from my face as I sat down beside him and crossed my legs in front of me, in much the same way as he had his. Silence rested between us once more, neither looked at the other yet it was somewhat comfortable, well as close to comfortable as I could get sat on the floor in silence next to a relative stranger. I brushed my blonde-brown hair behind my shoulders and rested my head back against the wall as together we watched the last of the items leave the van.
It took a little more than ten minutes for the next van to pull up and the previous to make room for it. I hadn’t expected there to be another van but down to the day’s proceedings so far I was less than surprised. As the men quickly opened the large doors to the new van Conner straightened up a little beside me, staring even more intently at the new van than he had done the last. Curiously I looked between him and the van but there seemed to be little difference between this and the last.
“How many more do you reckon there will be?” I asked offhandedly, breaking the silence for the first time since I had sat down.
Conner turned to me now and his bright green eyes caught my attention, startling me when I found I couldn’t look away from the strange unique color. It looked as though hundreds of different shades of green swirled together to make its own color, a color I don’t think I had ever seen before. I had never really looked into Conner’s eyes before yet now as I did I was surprised I hadn’t noticed before. “This is the last one,” Conner said casually and as quickly as he had turned to me he turned away again, back to his intense observations of the proceedings.
Smiling to myself at the knowledge that there would be no more vans, not that anything else could even fit in the house at this point anyway, I followed Conner’s gaze back to the latest items to be brought out. There seemed be some kind of commotion as two of the men argued about something inside of the van, Conner noticed it as well and I could see his body tense beside me, by the look of it he was half ready to leap up. Then I saw what the shouts had been about, slowly the front of a sportbike was lifted out of the van.
I gasped loudly as I saw the large metal bike being pulled out of the van. “Please tell me that’s not yours?” I shouted, glaring at Conner. There was no way it could be his; my dad would never let a sportbike near the house. I shuddered as images of the ‘little talks’ my dad had had with me about sportbikes popped into my mind, if there was anything on this earth he hated then it was bikes.
Conner’s eyes whipped to face me. “Of course it is,” he almost snapped as he stared back at the men as they carried the bike into the garage. My eyes bulged as I stared at him, how he had gotten my dad to agree I would never know.
The men returned and climbed back into the van, only to walk back out with yet another bike, this one was smaller than the other, much sleeker and a vibrant shade of blue. I couldn’t deny that it looked good; I knew that as extremely unlikely as it was, if I ever had a bike, I would want it to look like that. I barely had chance to admire the bike before a loud crash reached my ears; the bike fell heavily to the floor as the men jumped back away from it.
Conner was on his feet faster than I could have believed possible, his face darkening in, I had no doubt, a furious anger. In the time it had taken me to blink he had taken off running, running directly at the men who now stood staring at the ruin of the bike on the floor. I knew I didn’t even want to predict what was about to happen next.
Chapter Two
The summer was slowly becoming one of the best in a long time and I was glad that, two weeks after the moving day, if it wasn’t for the numerous boxes littering my house I would have hardly noticed that anything had changed at all. Conner had all but completely disappeared after I had left him to deal with the men who had made the mistake of damaging one of his bikes. As I wandered back into the house that day I could still hear the shouts and the fight that followed, who had come off better I didn’t know. I knew he must be roaming about somewhere, the jacket he had left in the street that I placed on his door had been moved but that seemed to be the only sign that he actually lived in the house.
As the last of the day’s sun finally slipped behind the cover of the clouds I pulled my towel and book off the ground and wandered back inside. Like many of the days previous I had chosen to spend the first few days of my holiday soaking in as much sun as possible. Finally after three days I had achieved some kind of tan, not an easily feat with my pale skin. It was only when I ducked into the kitchen that I heard the first of the shouts. My body stilled; my towel and book dangled in my hand as I strained to listen. I had been sure I had been alone in the house, up until now anyway, yet the shouts easily echoed through the kitchen from another room.
I could barely make out the words as I slowly edged closer to the source of the sound and that’s when I saw them. Half hidden between the assorted furniture was my dad and his new wife arguing loud enough for, by the sound of it, most of the street to hear. I wished I was more surprised, wished that it was the first argument they had had in the two short weeks since she moved in, but it wasn’t. It seemed like every other day the house erupted with the shouts, each argument a little different from the last but all of the ending with a slammed door or two.
Sighing quietly I quickly slipped past the room, knowing from experience that interrupting them would be less than wise. I dodged past the room, thankfully undetected and jogged as quickly as possible in my flip flops up the stairs. I only made it about half way before I felt myself falling, something hard slammed into my chest and my foot slipped precariously at the edge of the stair. Panicked I reached out, trying desperately to grab hold of something to stop me falling, anything that would keep me from ending up at the bottom of the stairs in a heap; but all my fingers grasped at was thin air.
A strong arm wrapped around my waist, dragging me forwards roughly. Air flew past me and I struggled to take hold of the arms that were holding me, trying to help them pull me up. Finally I wrapped my arms around the person, pushing my body hard against their chest, panting desperately. Fear thundered through my body as it slowly crept over me that I wasn’t falling any more, that I was safe. Crushing myself into the person the shakes that pounded my body gradually began to ease.
The person led me up the stairs, keeping a firm hold on me until we were safely away. “Are you ok?” a concerned voice asked slowly. My eyes burst open, I didn’t know when I had shut them so tightly but as light flooded into my vision I had to blink as few times to clear the spots.
Finally I looked up at the person who had saved me and found a pair of bright green eyes staring back at me, clearly concerned. “Conner?” I asked. I was more than shocked to see him and probably even more startled to realize I was wrapped around him.
I pulled away from him, as a blush found its way to my newly tanned cheeks; even the bronzed color did little to hide its brightness though. “Are you ok?” Conner asked again, sounding even more concerned now.
Despite the distance I had put between us he reached out and cupped my chin gently, bringing my face up to meet his expectant eyes. I breathed in deeply, feeling the last of the fear drain from my body. I nodded slowly; Conner smiled and softly dropped his hand from my face.
“Thank you,” I said gratefully. It was only now that I realized I had missed him, in a small way at least, his company wasn’t awkward or stressed and I was strangely at ease with him around. The noise from downstairs increased and Conner shook his head as a frown creased his lips.
I leant against the wall beside us and ran my hands casually through my hair, untangling a small knot that had formed in my curls. “Do you think they will ever stop?” I questioned with a sigh.
Conner moved to my side, resting against the wall. “Doesn’t look like it,” he muttered. I looked over to him, hearing the annoyance behind his words. His hair was different again, slightly longer after the two weeks we had spent apart, I hated to admit I kind of liked it longer.
“How long do you think they’ll last?” I asked. It wasn’t the first time I had thought about them breaking up but it surprised me to realize I had asked it out-loud, especially to Conner.
I watched as Conner’s face creased a little at the question, his frown deepened and I realized I probably wasn’t the first to ponder the question. “A couple of months maybe,” he answered quickly and I nodded, I had no choice but to agree with him.
“Is that why you keep disappearing?” I asked curiously knowing that if I was in his place I probably wouldn’t be here much either.
“I’m surprised you noticed,” Conner laughed, “I’m not exactly a family person,” he finished, his laugh dying away.
“This isn’t exactly a family,” I retorted truthfully.
“You have a point,” Conner said with another laugh as the frown finally disappeared from his face.
Silence fell between us with just the background noise of the still raging argument; it was an odd situation to say the least. “Where do you go?” I asked, if only to break the silence and cover the shouts.
“I ride,” he said simply with a shrug. I hadn’t thought much about his bikes since I had first seen them; I couldn’t help the smile that formed on my face at the image of the blue sportbike, I truly did like it.
“Teach me?” I asked suddenly, surprising myself as the idea occurred to me.
Conner stared at me, his mouth slightly agape. “You’re kidding?” he said as his face screwed up in confusion, “You’re dad hates bikes,” he finished with a frown; clearly he had heard the many arguments about his bikes.
“I hate arguments,” I said with a shrug.
“Tomorrow morning, 6am, don’t be late,” he said as he pushed off from the wall, sending me a wink as he walked away. I watched him leave; my mouth dropped open as the knowledge that I was probably going to regret my spur of the moment idea sunk in.
Chapter Three