SCORCHED: A Firefighter Stepbrother Romance Thriller (12 page)

Chapter 14

Tanya

“I’m
sorry, baby. I
gotta
go.”

Sleep
was still in my eyes when Gunner woke me, and my whole body was sore. Not sore
in a
bad
way. Just aching all over.
And I had sex hair. I smiled sleepily at that.

Shit. Last night, I fucked my stepbrother.

Was I
supposed to feel bad about that? I was sure I was. But I didn’t. Every part of
me was humming, singing hallelujah. I felt alive in a way I never had before.
And lighter, too, like Gunner’s cock had fucked away every ounce of anger and
misery and hatred inside of me.

All
that darkness, all that black, sickly shit. Gone. Just like that.
All because I’d let myself fall into my stepbrother’s arms.

“Where’re
you going?” I asked him, and he replied with a heavy sigh.

“Duty calls.”

“You
said you were taking a vacation!” I protested.

“I’m
meeting with the Detective. I want to see what they’ve come up with… Maybe I
can help. We need to find this guy and get him off the streets.”

I could
see his silhouette via the moonlight streaming in through the hotel drapes. He
looked like one of those Greek statues, all hard, smooth planes cast from the
finest marble. His eyes glittered, and I watched them trail over me,
half-covered in the sheets. His teeth gleamed like pearls when he smiled.

Damn.
That smile
.

“Let me
hold you before you go,” I said, and with a soft chuckle, Gunner obliged me. He
came to my side of the bed wearing only his jeans and I wrapped my arms around
him, nuzzling into his Adonis lines.

Gunner
smelled like cookies and milk. Like fresh-baked bread and lazy summer days. He
smelled like the childhood I’d lost when my mother died. And he smelled like
sex, dark and deep, a current of spices and musk and man that made my stomach
turn to butterflies.

Gunner
smelled like home.

“I’ll
be back soon, baby,” he whispered in the dark. I dipped my head just a little
lower, using my teeth to pull at his jeans, and he laughed again, so melodic.
Like a symphony.
“We can do more of this when I get back.
Wait for me.”

“Fine,”
I sighed, looking up into his eyes. I could’ve gotten lost in them forever.
“I’ll wait.”

Gunner
slipped a finger beneath my chin and leaned close to me. “I mean it, baby.
Wait.
I want you aching for me while I’m
gone.”

He
placed a long, tender kiss on my lips, one that set my heart on fire all over
again. I tried to cling to him but easily disengaged, setting my hands in my
lap. He smiled.

“If
you’re a good girl, I’ll make it worth your while when I get back,” he promised
me.

I
grunted and threw myself onto the bed, pouting as I watched him go. As he
slipped on his shirt and ran his fingers through his hair in the bedroom
mirror, my stepbrother never lost that cocky smirk on his face. He met my gaze
in the reflection for just a moment, and his smirk softened, became something
different.

If I
didn’t know my stepbrother better, I’d have said it was a look of longing.
Of love.

Then he
headed to the door, slinging his jacket over his shoulder like a modern-day
James Dean. The swagger in his step wasn’t lost on me. He was basking in the
afterglow of our lovemaking just as much as I was.

I
buried my face in his pillow and took a big whiff of his scent.
Our
scent. The fragrance of our sex was
all over the bed, woven right into the sheets. No matter how many times the
cleaning staff washed them, I knew it was never coming off. I wondered if I
could take them home with me like some sort of souvenir, evidence of the way
Gunner had fucked me last night. My stepbrother was a god.

Right
now, though, he was an absent one.

I
sighed and stroked his side of the bed. It was already growing cold, the little
hollow he’d slept in slowly rising into form again. I knew he’d be back soon. I
trusted him. But there was a part of me that felt like every time he turned
away, it would be the last I ever saw of him.

Tucking
the sheets between my knees, I let sleep take me then. With the bundle between
my thighs and the pillow beneath my head, I could almost fool myself into
believing that Gunner was still in bed, my head on his chest, his arm wrapped
around me. The only thing missing was the beating of his heart, that soft
lullaby that had put me to sleep the first time around, and the only thing I
wanted to hear before bed from now until forever.

I
missed him already.

I was
going to go crazy sitting here like this. I grabbed my cellphone.

Heya
,
Chel
.

Chelsea
didn’t respond right away and I grumbled, sinking into the couch cushions in
nothing but a tank top and sweat pants. It was a lazy day for me. I had nowhere
to go, no one to talk to, and no one to look nice for. Gunner was working and
Chelsea was probably still sleeping. The only thing I could find on TV were
daytime soaps, and now that I’d finished the brunch room service had brought
up, I was going nuts.

I
looked at the clock. How long would Gunner be gone?

My
phone buzzed against my hip and I grabbed at it excitedly. Finally,
Chel
had texted me back.

SWEETS!
where
r
u?????

I
started to reply, then realized what a long fucking story this all was. Instead
I called, turning down the volume on the
Real
Housewives of Someplace or Another
and eagerly waiting for her to pick up.

When
she did, the sound of her squeal about blew my eardrum out.

“Tanya!
Where the
hell
have you been, sweets
?!
”

“I . . . ”
Shit.
Now that I had her on the phone, I didn’t know where to
start. “Did . . . did you hear about what happened at
my stepbrother’s house?”

“No,”
she said more quietly, “they’ve been
keepin
’ all that
pretty hush-hush. I just saw the cops were there and the bomb squad
and—oh, God, Tanya. It’s not that creep again, is it?”

I
sighed. “Afraid so. Warn the girls, just in case he tries to come back to the
club.”

I told
her about the painting on the wall. About what the bastard had done to
Jax
, and how he’d more or less tried to blow me up. I told
her about the picture he’d taken from Gunner’s drawer of me as a kid, and we
both made gagging noises at the thought of what that psycho was doing with it
now.

“Jesus,
sweets. He must be one of them real crazies. He’s
goin
’
all Biblical on you. Are you sure you’re all right there all by yourself?”

“I
think so,” I said, warily looking around. “The hotel’s pretty nice, so they’ve
got good security. We managed to snag a honeymoon suite. It’s got a great view,
plus all the amenities, and . . . ”

And I
couldn’t tell her more than that. Not without revealing our secret.

The
thought hit me all at once. Gunner and I would never be normal. Even if we got
through this little mess, we’d never be able to tell people the truth. We’d
always be hiding from something or someone. Either we were siblings, or lovers.
The world was pretty clear on the fact that we couldn’t be both.

Yet we
were
both. Fuck. What a mess. Maybe it
was a good thing he’d kept me a secret…

“Ooh,
sounds ritzy,”
Chel
said, sounding none the wiser.
“So,
when’re you
gonna
ditch the nice digs and come back
to work in this shithole?”

“Never,”
I told her. The sound of the word surprised even me. We both took a breath at
the exact same time. “I’m . . . I’m not coming back,
Chel
. Not to the Domino, and not to any other strip club.
Not ever.”

Tears
of realization welled in my eyes. I wiped them with the back of my hand, and
then laughed a little. “I’m out. I’m done.
Really
done.”

Chel
took a
moment to respond. She started to say several things at once, the high, squeaky
pitch of her voice coming out in staccato bursts of nonsense. And then she
laughed too, even though she sounded sad.

“Good
for you, sweets. Good for you.”

“I’m
sorry,” I whispered. “For leaving you—”

“Oh,
Tanya,”
Chel
said, “
don’t
be
stupid. Every girl in
that club dreams
of
gettin
’ out.
Gettin
’ away.
Finding something, and someone, better than that
fuckin
’
death trap.
We all dream of lives that aren’t dead ends.

“And you
get to live it. How the hell could I not be proud of you?

“Just . . . ”
She paused. “Do you think we’ll still be friends?
Y’know
,
after you’re gone? Are we
gonna
have anything to talk
about?”

“Don’t
be stupid,
Chel
,” I said softly, hoping she could
hear the love I had for her in my voice. “Of course we will. You’re still my
bestie
. It’s not like the only thing we had in common was
the pole.”

I could
practically hear her rolling her eyes on the other end. “Get some rest, sweets.
With everything you’ve been through, you’ve earned it. And don’t go
lettin
’ in any strangers!”

“Thanks,
Mom,
” I teased. A pang of regret
stole my breath away. Shit, how I wished my mom
was
here. “I love you.”

“Love
you too, sweets,”
Chel
said. “Be a good girl, huh?”
Then she hung up the phone.

I sat
back against the couch. I felt so free. So . . . liberated.
Maybe not from my secrets, but knowing I never had to go back to that
place—to the Domino, to the Dollhouse, to anywhere that exploited
women—it was like someone had lifted a mess of chains off me, ones I
hadn’t even realized were there in the first place.

I ran
my fingers through my hair, only to have them snag on a knot. I frowned. I
needed a shower.

Thankfully,
from the glimpse I’d gotten of it last night, I knew our hotel had a pretty big
one.

I leapt
off the couch at the prospect of doing
anything
other than twiddling my thumbs for the next eighteen hours and made a beeline
right for the bathroom. I tossed my cell phone onto the counter and abandoned
my sweats and tank top on the floor. No reason to pick up after myself when
Gunner wasn’t around.

The
heat was exactly what I’d needed, and the massage feature on the showerhead
didn’t hurt, either. Sex with Gunner had been a workout, and every muscle in my
body was sore.
Delightfully
sore, but
sore nonetheless.

I
closed my eyes and let the heat flow over me. This was bliss.
Sheer, simple bliss.
Right now, I didn’t have to think. I
didn’t have to feel. I just had to let the rising steam carry me away far from
where anything mattered.

Except
Gunner kept crawling back into my mind. I couldn’t stop him. He was just . . . there.
Invading every memory.
Every personal space.

Like
how he’d invaded my pussy last night.

It was
no use. Nothing could take my mind off Gunner. I’d spent years trying to forget
him, and now that I’d let him in, it was all going to be in vain. How could I
forget the way he’d touched me? The way he’d looked at me last night? The hot
press of his lips—his teeth on my neck—the sound of his wordless
cries in my ear?