Stepbrother Bastard (6 page)

“
I
may have embellished a little,
”
he replies,
“
But
even though we
’
re both attracted to each other, one
of us is a lot more prone to one night stands than the other, right? What to do
…”

I
feel my pulse quicken as he rubs his thumb against my hand. Joking around about
random hookups is one thing
…
but the fact remains that
I
’
ve
never done anything like that before. I don
’
t
have anything against sleeping with someone outside of a relationship, but I
also don
’
t
know anything about this guy. Other than the fact that the mere pressure of his
hand against mine is making me clench my thighs together, as pulses of desire
ripple up through my body.

“
Wouldn
’
t
that be something, if I knocked out my bet on the first night
…”
I say, trying to sound
breezy. But the raging lust twisting my core rings out loud and clear through
my voice.

“
Is
that what you want?
”
Cash asks, leaning into me as his hand
moves slowly higher on my thigh.

“
I
…
Well
…”
I stammer, savoring the
feel of his fingers brushing against my thigh through the denim.

“
You
’
re
blushing,
”
he
tells me, eyes gleaming with serious want. Up and up his hand strays, moving
closer to that throbbing place between my legs. I have to swallow hard to keep
from moaning, his hands feel so good on me.

“
No
kidding, I
’
m blushing,
”
I breathe,
“
How
are you not?
”

“
I
’
m
just better at hiding it than you,
”
he smiles. But he sets
all joking aside the very next moment, stilling his hand just before it brushes
against my sex.
“
Listen Maddie,
”
he goes on,
“
I
know we
’
ve
been kidding around all night, but if you
’
re
not into this, or you
’
ve had too much to drink,
or
—”

“
I
haven
’
t,
”
I say hurriedly,
“
I
mean, I am
…
into it.
”

“
I
need you to be one hundred percent sure,
”
he says firmly, lifting
his hands away from my body,
“
Especially if you
’
ve
never had a one-off before. Hell, I
’
m
not even sure if you could handle me, even just for a night.
”

I
laugh, though my body is crying out for his touch.
“
I
’
m
pretty sure I
’
d be able to handle you just fine,
Hawthorne.
”

“
Maybe,
”
he shrugs, turning
slightly away from me.
“
But I
’
m
telling you right now, pretty sure isn
’
t
gonna cut it for me.
”

He
’
s
giving me an out. I can get up and walk away right now if I want to, no
strings, no hard feelings. And every other day of my life leading up to this,
with every other guy I
’
ve ever met, that
’
s
exactly what I
’
d do. But today, Cash is sitting in
front of me. His scruffy, cut jaw pulsing as he bites back his want of me. His
hazel eyes burning with both need and the restraint of it. His strong, expert
hands resting resolutely on his knees, when they should be exploring every inch
of me.

“
Fuck
it,
”
I mutter fiercely, taking
his sculpted face in my hands and closing the space between us.

In
the second that it takes for me to bring my mouth to his, he
’
s
raced up to meet me in the moment. He catches my lips in his, as I open my
mouth to him. The full firmness of his lips nearly takes my breath away. I wrap
my arms behind his neck, steadying myself against him, as his tongue glides
against mine. The taste of him dances across my tongue, and I
’
m
drunker off him in a second, than I
’
ve
managed to get all night. I take his bottom lip between my teeth, biting gently
down. A low, soft groan rumbles at the very core of him, so deep that I can
feel it where we connect at the mouth.

“
How
’
s
that for one hundred percent sure?
”
I breathe, pulling back
to train my blue eyes on him.

“
Yeah.
That
’
ll
do,
”
he growls, his arms
circling my slender waist.

It
’
s
only then, that I notice the catcalls rising up from the back of the bar. The
group of bikers clustered around the pool table started cheering us on as we
locked lips, and they have all kinds of dirty suggestions as to what we should
do now.

“
We
seem to have an audience,
”
I murmur.

“
I
’
m
not sure I should drive back to my place, after this many rounds
…”
Cash says, gritting his
teeth.
“
But
dammit, I
’
ll carry you back if I have to.
”

I
let my hands trail down his body, unthinking. They run over the firm panes of
his chest, the perfect line of abs, and onward. Suddenly, I feel my fingertips
brush against a staggering new development. I glance down, eyes widening as I
take in the bulging length, threatening to tear straight through his jeans.
That does it.

“
I
’
m
staying at the motel next door,
”
I breathe, eyes locked on his.

“
Why
the hell didn
’
t you say so?
”
he breathes, his voice
husky with lust.

I
stand up from my barstool, barely able to remain upright from the throbbing
between my legs. As casually as possible, I lace my fingers through Cash
’
s
and pull him to standing. He plays along with my nonchalance, draping an arm
across my shoulders as we turn to go. As the bikers start roaring their
approval, we glance in unison over our shoulders and each give them the finger
with our free hands. Our synchronized bird-flipping makes us whip around to
face each other, smiling like a couple of lunatics. If our bodies are already
this synced up, that bodes pretty well for the rest of the evening.

The
second the bar door swings shut behind us, Cash
’
s
powerful hands grab hold of my hips. He swings me around and presses me up
against the brick wall of the bar, kissing me hard as he holds me pinned there.
I gasp as he shifts his hips, letting me feel his rigid cock right against my
aching slit. Our tongues tangle as I bury my fingers in his thick, dark curls.
The brick is rough against my bare shoulders, but I couldn
’
t
give less of a damn.

“Goddammit…”
Cash
rasps, brushing a lock of hair away from my face as he looks down at me in the
red neon light.
“
I
’
ve
wanted to do that from the second I laid eyes on you.
”

“
Really?
”
I breathe,
“
Could
’
ve
fooled me.
”

“
Like
I said, I know how to hide things better than you,
”
he smiles, running his
hands down my sides as he brings his lips to my neck.

I
let my head fall back against the brick as he kisses deeply along my throat,
dizzy with needing to feel more of him.

“
Come
on, Hawthorne,
”
I
urge with a grin, breaking away across the gravel,
“
Before
the crazy motel biddy sees us.
”

“
I
’
m
not even gonna ask what the hell you
’
re
talking about,
”
Cash
says, taking off after me across the lot.

I
dash out ahead of him, feeling for the world like I
’
m
sixteen years old again. How can something so illicit feel so light, so easy?
Cash catches up to me in no time, ducking down and scooping me into a fireman
’
s
carry.

“
Cash!
”
I cry out,
“
What
—
?
”

“
Army
training. What can I tell you?
”
he laughs, racing toward the motel.
“
This
pretty damn near feels like a life or death situation, after all
…”

He
skids to a stop just outside my door and sets me upright as I fumble for my
keycard. I can barely get the thing in, my hands are trembling so hard. But the
second that lock clicks open, we tumble through the doorway and slam it shut on
the rest of the world. Our hands find each other
’
s
bodies in the near pitch-blackness, lifting off layers of clothing as we
stagger across the unfamiliar room.

I
feel my feet go out from under me as I trip over my huge suitcase. The bed
rises up to meet me as I fall, bringing Cash down on top of me. We laugh
through kissing at the slapstick moment, but soon the only sound I can make is
a low, shuddering moan. I fall back against the mattress, wearing nothing but
my panties as Cash kneels over me. That same neon glow flashes against his bare
skin, illuminating every perfectly cut muscle. Every line of ink. And as he
tugs down his black briefs, I finally catch a glimpse of his staggering,
irresistible cock. 

“
You
know something?
”
I gasp, reaching to run my hands along
that hard, pulsating length.
“
I think I could get used
to this one night stand thing
…”

But
my words cut out as he slips my panties down over the rise of my ass and lowers
himself to me.

“
Maddie,
”
he rasps,
“
I
’
m
gonna make you wish for a whole lot more than one night
…”

I
let my knees fall apart, opening myself to him. I can feel the swollen tip of
him pressed flush against my wetness. I
’
m
holding onto his broad, muscled shoulders for dear life, craving the feel of
him deep inside me. But instead of driving his cock into my very core, he
starts kissing along my neck, between my breasts, over the valley of my taut
stomach, further and further down, until
—

“
Oh,
Jesus Christ,
”
I
gasp, raking my fingers along his back as I feel his warm breath against my
slick sex.

“
Told
you,
”
he growls in the dizzying
darkness
—
his
last words before I feel his expert tongue running along the length of me.

If this is what random hookups are like
,
I think in my blissful delight,
I
’
ll
stick to them for the rest of my life.

Chapter Three

The next morning…

“
Shit,
shit
…”
I mutter, as my phone
begins chirping incessantly from the other room.

Still
clutching the tangled motel sheet to my naked body, I dart out of the bathroom
and snatch up the noisy device. I'd totally forgotten that I set an early
alarm. Blinking blearily at the bright screen, I hurry to silence the thing
before it wakes up my unexpected roommate.

I
hold my breath as Cash rolls onto his back on the narrow bed, but his own
breathing remains slow and shallow. He
’
s
still fast asleep. My gaze is arrested as I catch sight of him in the early
morning light. Try as I might, I can
’
t
look away from the rise and fall of his sculpted, ink-covered chest. Two rows
of perfectly formed abs roll like hills along his torso, giving way to the
muscular
“
V
”
of his waist. And just below that
…

“
Oh
my god,
”
I squeak in a whisper, my
eyes going wide at the sight of his prodigious morning wood, holding up the
motel comforter like a tent pole.
“
Oh
my god, oh my god
…”

I
dash back into the bathroom and close the door behind me, chest rising and
falling like mad. The full weight of what happened between me and Cash last
night is finally hitting me. This is far from the first time I
’
ve
slept with someone, but it is the first time for
multiple
other things.
Or rather, multiples of one very wonderful thing. Why didn
’
t
anyone tell me sex could be like that? I would have been having much more of it
this whole time! With, admittedly, far more skillful partners.

My
cell buzzes in my hand, and I glance down to see that I have a new text from
Allie.

Allie:
Miss you already! Good luck on your mission xx

I
swallow a laugh and text back.

Me:
Too late ;)

Allie
pounces on the bait at once
…

Allie:
What do you mean, too late???

With
my heart lodged in my throat, I peek around the bathroom door. Cash Hawthorne
is still fast asleep in my bed. Allie will never believe that I
’
ve
actually spent the night with him
…
unless
I offer her some proof. I raise my phone and snap a pic of his slumbering form.
Not exactly good morning-after etiquette, I know, but I can always plead
ignorance of the one night stand rules of engagement if pressed. I send the pic
to Allie in a message, and receive an immediate, and exuberant, reply.

Allie:
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Me:
Yep. Mission accomplished :)

Allie:
I
’
ve never been so
proud of you. Ever.

Me:
Thanks? I think?

Allie:
Who is he?!

Me:
Oh, just some handsome stranger I picked up at the bar last night
…

Allie:
STFU WHO ARE YOU EVEN

Me:
I don
’
t know what to
tell you, lady.

Allie:
Oh, only EVERY SINGLE DETAIL.

Me:
I will, just as soon as I figure out what to do about the babe in my bed.

Allie:
I have a few suggestions
…

Me:
Oh, I
’
m sure. Talk to
you soon, you terrible influence.

Allie:
Love you! Have good sex!

I
shake my head at the phone and creep back into the motel room proper. As
quietly as I can, I weed my clothes out from Cash
’
s
and slip back into them. My plan was to get on the road first thing in the
morning today. I wasn
’
t expecting to factor a
little morning-after discussion into the schedule.

My
stomach flips as I try and figure out what I should even say to Cash before I
go.
“
Thanks
for the awesome fuck, see you never
”
?
“
Gotta
go, have a nice life with your incredible cock
”
?
Nothing I can think of quite does the trick. Maybe I should just duck out before
he wakes up and spare us both the moment of awkwardness? I
’
m
sure I
’
ll
just say the wrong thing and ruin what was an incredible night. What I really
want is to see him again, but I can
’
t
tell him that. I
’
ll just seem needy and
clingy
—
anathema
to a lone wolf type like him, I
’
m sure. One thing is
certain
—
I
need to decide on a course of action before my gorgeous bedmate wakes up.

Before
I can overthink this any further, I grab the complementary notepad and pen from
the bedside table and scrawl the first thing that comes to mind:

Cash
—It was wonderful to meet you. Take care. MP

And
with that, I grab my suitcase and head for the door. I grant myself one last
look at Cash Hawthorne
’
s gorgeous sleeping face
before going. I don
’
t know much about one
night stands, but I know there
’
s no way I should be
feeling this attached to mine. Maybe I should stay after all? Grab some coffee
with him, trade numbers?

No
, I think resolutely, forcing myself
out the door,
Leave it be, Maddie. Don
’
t
try to make this into something it
’
s
not. It
’
ll just hurt when he
doesn
’
t feel the same way.

I
slide my keycard into the drop box outside the office, hurrying away before the
blue-haired sentry reappears. The last thing I want to do is explain to her why
housekeeping is going to find a man among my bedsheets later today.

My
sex-scrambled brain gets turned around more than once on the second leg of my
road trip, adding four whole hours onto my drive. By the time I get my bearings
and turn onto the long, dusty road leading off to the address my mother
provided me, it
’
s late in the day. My
stomach cramps with hunger and my hangover pounds away at my skull. At least my
physical discomfort distracts me from the curious pangs that keep tugging at my
heartstrings. It must just be because I
’
m
unused to sex outside of a relationship, but I already feel myself starting to
miss Cash
…
which is
insane
, I know. Not
to mention lame as hell. But what
’
s
a girl to do?

I
steer my ancient Honda down the winding road as tall, leafy trees arch
overhead. I
’
ve never seen this alleged lake house
before, or even visited my mom
’
s old hometown. I have no
idea what to expect
…
but it
’
s
definitely not what
’
s actually waiting around
the bend, that
’
s for damn sure.

My
jaw falls open as a huge, gorgeously built home appears in my field of vision.
A wide, shaded veranda encircles the three-story wooden home, and the turquoise
blue water of a pristine lake filters through the tree line behind it. A
sprawling lawn has been cleared around the house, dotted with vegetable and
flower gardens, bocce and badminton courts, and a hot tub and outdoor shower.
Green shutters and dark stained wood lend an air of gravity and class to the
rustic paradise
—
all told, this place is
absolutely incredible.

The
only question is
…
what the hell is my mom
doing, renting out a palace like this? She doesn
’
t
exactly rake in the dough as an artist. Something
’
s
off, here.

I
spot a few cars lining the driveway and park mine behind them, filling my lungs
with crisp lake air as I step outside. Blinking into the bright, dappled
sunlight, I make my way toward the front door of the impressive house, climbing
the flight of wooden steps that lead up to the porch. I
’
m
just about to close my fingers around the doorknob, when a flutter of motion
catches the corner of my eye.

“
Jesus
Christ!
”
I yelp, falling back
against the door. A lithe, contorted body is pretzeled there on the porch,
halfway hidden by the shadow of the house. And upon second glance, I see that
it
’
s
a very familiar pretzel, indeed.
“
Sophie,
you scared the shit out of me,
”
I gasp.

“
Oh.
Hey, Maddie,
”
replies
my middle sister, glancing up at me from her elaborate posture.
“
One
sec, I
’
m
just finishing up my practice.
”

“
What
are you practicing, exactly?
”
I ask her, cocking my head,
“
How
to fit a corpse into a suitcase?
”

She
untangles her limbs with a sigh, and comes to sitting on a muted red mat. Her wavy
caramel blonde hair is pulled into a bun, her long limbs glistening with the
exertion of her exercise. I
’
m suddenly feeling very
self-conscious of my smeared makeup and slouchy clothes
—
but
that
’
s
always sort of the effect that the effortlessly gorgeous Sophie has on me.

“It’s
yoga, Maddie,
”
she
says now, already bored with me,
“
Surely
you
’
ve
heard of it.
”

And
just like that, my little sister and I are off to a shaky start. As per usual.
Sophia has always been the most serious Porter sister, and my constant efforts
to lighten the mood only ever seem to make things worse. And what with my
pounding hangover and baffled heart, I can
’
t
really muster up the energy to keep our interaction sunny.

“
Did
you know this place was going to be a mansion?
”
I ask her, crossing my
arms,
“
There
’
s
no way Mom can be affording this easily.
”

“
Since
when has Mom ever bothered to run anything past us?
”
Sophie shrugs, rolling up
her mat.
“
I
’
m
sure it
’
s
fine.
”

My
mouth turns down at the corners. Why am I always the only one worrying about
the big picture around here? I
’
m about to keep pressing
for details when a flutter of ash blonde hair
—
nearly
white in its lightness
—
appears
between the trees at the edge of the yard, catching my eye. Speaking of
pictures
…

“
Is
that Anna?
”
I
ask Sophie, squinting across the grassy expanse.

“
Who
else?
”
she replies, following my
gaze in the direction of our youngest sister.
“
She
’
s
been wandering around the woods with her camera for hours. I don
’
t
think she
’
s said three words all morning.
”

“
Sounds
about right,
”
I
say, watching as Annabel
’
s willowy form crouches
down to snap a shot of some Queen Anne
’
s
Lace. Of all us Porter women, Anna
’
s
the quietest. In fact, I
’
d say she
’
s
the
only
quiet one among us. It isn
’
t
that she
’
s
shy, necessarily
—
just a girl of few words.