Stepbrother Forbidden (Stepbrother, Where Art Thou? Book 2) (6 page)

The terminal was huge and confusing, but after a few seconds scanning around Sophia saw the self service machines for American, darted across and set a speed record for check-in. With her ticket in hand she sprinted to security, hopping from one leg to the other as she waited in line, then remembered Pam's warning and forced herself to settle down. Pam wasn't the only one who'd seen the run to the airport in the movies, and Sophia knew that Murphy's law had a habit of applying in these situations.

Miraculously the TSA agent let her go without finding anything suspicious in her pockets or mishearing the word 'mom' for 'bomb', and Sophia breathed a sigh of relief as she collected her things from the tray. She ran over to the departures board and saw the message beside the South Bend flight: BOARDING.

Jesus!
She looked at her watch as she started to run, and saw it was only 6:15. The flight wasn't due to depart until 7. Maybe there was still time.

As she ran she felt a tight ball of excitement growing in her belly, fluttering like butterflies. She'd barely been able to think about it on the cab ride, but now she began picturing what was about to happen in detail. She'd find Ryan waiting there at the gate, and the moment he saw her he'd know. There would be no need for words. Their bodies would do all the talking, drawn to each other through the crowd. He'd take her in his arms and kiss her deep, and she'd know that he'd be the last man she'd ever kiss. The only man. It would be Ryan, always.

The gate numbers climbed as she ran, until finally she saw the sign for 26A. She could see a line snaking back from the counter. As she got closer she felt her heart climb to her throat.
What if he's already boarded?
Her eyes scanned the line, but she didn't see him. He wasn't there. There was no question. Ryan would have stood a head taller than most of the people on line, so he wasn't easy to miss.

He just wasn't there.

She reached the line and pushed her way through, raising a dozen typical New York grumbles from the crowd. "Get in line!" somebody yelled, accompanied by countless murmurs of agreement.

Sophia's cheeks burned as she pushed on, feeling dozens of angry eyes dig into her back. There just wasn't time to care, so she pushed on until she broke free of the crowd and reached the gate desk.

"Excuse me," she panted, out of breath after her run. "Has anyone boarded yet?"

The gate attendant looked up with thinly disguised disdain. "Ma'am, you'll have to join the back of the line." Behind her Sophia heard a chorus of satisfied voices.

She shook her head. "You don't understand. I'm not on this flight. I just need to know if a passenger has boarded yet. Ryan Berenger?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am, I can't help you. Now please leave the line if you don't plan to fly today. We have to complete boarding." She turned back towards the jetway, and Sophia heard a few chuckles from the crowd.

"Wait!" she yelled, and reached out to grab the arm of the attendant. The woman's eyes shot to her arm as if Sophia had splashed acid on it.

"Let go now, or I'll have to call security!"

Sophia held her grip. "I just need to know if my stepbrother has boarded the plane yet. Please! I have to get a message to him!"

The attendant yanked her arm away and gave her a smoldering look. "I'm not permitted to disclose any information about our passengers, ma'am. Now you'll have to leave."

Sophia exploded. "God damn it! I'm not trying to jump the line. I'm not trying to get on the flight. I just need to know if a fucking passenger has boarded the fucking plane! What's so tough about that question?"

Before she had the chance to take another breath she felt the hand on her arm. It twisted behind her, and in a moment both of her hands were bound behind her back, and her face was pressed roughly against the desk. A few in the queue laughed, and she heard the sound of phone cameras clicking away.

"Don't struggle, ma'am. Just come along with me." The security guard held her hands firmly behind her back and guided her by the flexible cuffs, frog marching her away from the gate to the smug cheers of the passengers.

She couldn't believe what was happening. Just a few moments ago she'd pictured Ryan's smile as he noticed her. She'd imagined his strong hands sliding around her back as he drew her in for a kiss. She'd imagined feeling the heat of his body against hers, and the anticipation of what they'd do to each other the moment they had a little privacy. Now, though, all she could feel was the pain in her wrists, the heat of the tears streaming down her face and the humiliation of being marched back through the terminal in full sight of hundreds of people.

"Please," she cried, "I didn't do anything. I just need to know if Ryan is on the plane."

"Not my area, ma'am," the guard replied. "Keep walking."

Finally, after what felt like a mile of marching the guard guided her through a keycode locked door, ushered her along a silent corridor and led her to another door. A moment later she felt the guard release her cuffs. She reached up her hands and wiped the tears from her face.

"Did you intend to fly today, ma'am?" the guard asked.

"No. I mean, I had a ticket, but I was just trying to catch my stepbrother before he left."

"OK," he replied, his voice surprisingly soft. "I heard what you said at the counter, and I don't want to take this any further. You won't be allowed back in the airport today, you understand?"

Sophia nodded.

"You just can't cause a disturbance at the gate like that, no matter the reason. I'm sure to didn't mean any harm, but we have to take that kind of thing seriously. You get me?"

Sophia nodded again. "Yes sir. I'm sorry."

"Now, I'm going to have to escort you out of the building. If you need to get hold of a passenger you'll have to call the airline and leave a message for him at his destination. OK? Now let's get you out of here. I'm eating into my break."

The guard pushed open the door and led Sophia out into the departures hall. He kept a close eye on her as she walked to to the exit, but was kind enough to stay a few steps behind her, to make it look as if she wasn't being thrown out.

The guard watched her until she reached the taxi rank, then turned back into the terminal. Sophia pulled out her phone and thought about calling information, leaving a message for Ryan at his gate in South Bend, but it just didn't feel right. She couldn't say the things she wanted to say over the phone. She didn't want Ryan to read
I love you, come home
from a print out under the American Airlines logo. She wanted to say it to his face.

A yellow cab pulled up, and for a moment Sophia hoped it would be driven by Ron. She needed to see a friendly face right now, but a glance through the window told her she wouldn't get that lucky.

"Mind if we split a cab?"

Sophia recognized the voice at the first word, and by the last her heart had stopped. She turned around.

Ryan stood there, a canvas duffel bag slung over one shoulder, his lips turned up in an uncertain smile. Hopeful, but uncertain.

"You didn't get on the plane," she said, lost for better words.

Ryan shook his head slowly. "No."

"You're coming home?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

She reached out to take his hand, as if to convince herself he was really there. A spark seemed to jump between their fingers as they met, and when he took her hand she knew he'd never let her go again. He pulled her towards him, and she let him take her. His hand moved up her body, skimming her, tracing her contours beneath the letter jacket she still wore, before reaching her face. He lifted her chin with one finger, slid his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her in for a kiss, his fingers buried in her chestnut hair.

The crowd seemed to fade into mist as his lips met hers, and the honking horns and revving engines were silenced. The world beyond Ryan seemed thin and insubstantial, as if he was the only truly real person on the planet, and everyone else mere ghosts.

He was hers, and she was his. The rest of the world would just have to deal with it.

*

Epilogue

The cab ride passed in near silence. Sophia lay across the rear seat, her head resting blissfully in Ryan's lap. With every bump and rattle of the car she felt him swell beneath his jeans, and it took all her self control to resist the urge to play with him out of sight of the driver. By the time the cab emerged from the Holland Tunnel back into Manhattan she was dripping wet, desperate for the final mile of the trip to pass in the blink of an eye.

When they reached the house they found a note taped to the door. Sophia barely took the time to scan it. It was from her mom, telling Sophia that she'd taken Jack out to dinner.
Back late,
it ended. She guessed Isabel knew they'd need some privacy.

Ryan opened the door and led Sophia through the house and up the stairs, looking back at her as he walked, as if he couldn't believe she was really holding his hand. They reached Sophia's room, this time remembering to lock the door behind them.

"This is really happening, right?" Sophia asked, only half joking. "I didn't trip over in the airport and knock myself out? You're really here?"

"I'm really here," Ryan replied, grinning, with a hungry look in his eyes. "And I'm not going anywhere again. Ever."

He guided her to the bed, and as she peeled off her clothes she watched as Ryan kicked his shoes off, flicking them against the wall. She remembered all those nights she'd waited up for that sound on the other side of the wall... waiting for him to come home so she could sleep without dreaming of him with another woman.

She bit her thumb as Ryan tossed his duffel bag to the ground and pulled his gray t-shirt over his head, revealing the tight, perfect six pack and Godlike pecs he'd built over his years on the football field. He unbuttoned his jeans, and Sophia couldn't resist sliding from the bed to help him ease them over his enormous, bulging erection.

She'd dreamed of this moment for weeks, and fantasized about it ever since the day she'd first seen him two years earlier, sitting across the cafeteria with a girl on his arm. For two years, even as she thought she hated him, she'd imagined what it would be like to be that girl, inches from him, belonging to him, and him to her, feeling the heat radiate from his body.

Slowly, as if unwrapping a gift, she pulled down his jeans, digging her fingers into his firm ass as she went. She tugged at his boxers, releasing his hot, thick cock, and Ryan moaned as she slowly dipped her head and took him between her lips.

She never imagined it would feel like this. She buried her fingers deep in the firm, taut muscles of Ryan's ass, pulling him in towards her, and slid him back and forth past her lips and over her tongue. She couldn't believe how intense it felt, to hold him in her mouth and have him at her mercy, teasing him with her tongue.

Ryan's groans grew louder and faster as she toyed with him, and before long it was clear he could take no more. His hands reached down to her and she felt herself lifted, his cock slipping from her wet lips as he picked her up and threw her on the bed.

"
Fuck me, Ryan
," she moaned, opening her legs to invite him in. It was clear he didn't need the invitation. He climbed on top of her with the same look in his eyes a man lost in the desert would give a glass of ice water. He moved quickly, hungrily, his muscles rippling as he pushed himself inside her. Sophia's dripping lips spread wide to allow the thick, throbbing head of his cock to enter her, and she gasped as he pushed deep inside, delving into her until the muscles of his stomach pressed tight against hers.

She could barely breathe. It felt as if Ryan was so deep inside her that at any moment they'd become a single person. He dipped his head to her chest and hungrily took a breast in his mouth, teasing a firm nipple with his tongue as he slipped his hands beneath her, wrapping around her shoulders, pulling her towards him so that he could thrust harder, deeper inside her.

Now she couldn't stay silent, and had no need any more. "Ryan!" she yelled, her voice bouncing off the walls. "Oh, Jesus, yes!"

"My God, you're perfect," he panted breathlessly as he arched his back to bury himself inside her. "Come for me, Sophia," he growled.

She couldn't stop herself if she'd wanted to. The tight, electric ball of lightning that had been growing inside her from the moment Ryan had kissed her at the airport had grown too big for one body to contain. With one final, powerful thrust she felt herself explode. Every muscle in her body seemed to tense and relax at the same moment, and wave after wave of joy flowed through her as she screamed, rattling the walls with the sound of her pleasure.

Her orgasm was enough to send Ryan over the edge, and as she squealed uncontrollably he let out an almighty roar, arching his back as he filled her with his seed. Their voices seemed to echo from the walls just as the waves of pleasure crested and broke through her body, crashing from head to toe, making every nerve ending tingle and fire.

Slowly the waves died down, leaving Sophia panting and spent, her olive skin glistening with sweat as Ryan tenderly kissed her neck and shoulders, still buried deep inside her, his erection twitching every few moments, teasing her with yet more jolts of pleasure that hinted at the long, lust-filled night to come.

Eventually he rolled to one side, sliding smoothly out of Sophia and resting his warm body against her side. She couldn't help but grin, knowing that there was nothing to hold them back. Their secret was out, and now nothing could stop the two of them becoming one.

It would be complicated, she knew. Nothing would ever be simple for them, and their love would always be a challenge.

Then again, real love always is.

Enjoyed this story?  Then you'll love
At His Command
, the steamy opening book to the internationally bestselling Dominated by the Billionaire series. Available now at Amazon, and for free on the Kindle Unlimited program.

Chapter One

By ivesting heavily i the refiemet of the curret product lie we feel we ca solidify our market share and wi ew custom more effectively tha by focusig o the developmet of a ew lie. All available resources should be redirected to the Oramis program, ad the roll out of Oramis II should be postpoed util Q3 of the comig fiancial year...

Pam was lost in her own little world, concentrating on her headphones too much to notice that the N button on her keyboard was busted. The last three pages of her transcription would have to be redone, and it was already 15 minutes after the end of her shift.

'Comig fiacial year, Pam? You know you should glance at your screen every once in a while.'

Pam took a moment to register the voice. 'Huh? Oh, for God's sake! This damned keyboard is a piece of junk!'

Arnie grinned. 'I wouldn't say that too loud, Pam. We make that piece of junk.'

'So why can't I get a computer that does what it's told? I must waste half my day fighting with this shit.' She slapped the keyboard in frustration, freeing the stuck key.

khb!jgjnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn

'Now I'm gonna miss my bus, and on the worst possible day. My deadbeat brother'll have hocked my TV by the time I get home.' She turned to Arnie, suddenly smiling coquettishly. 'Hey Arn, honey, any chance you could count this as overtime?'

Arnie chuckled. 'Sorry Pam, you know the rules. You can only get overtime if it comes down from the top. I may be the supervisor around here but as far as overtime goes I may as well work in the mail room.'

'Worth a shot,' Pam sighed. 'OK, go on home to your wife's cauliflower supreme, Arn. I'll close up when I'm done.'

'It's OK, I can wait. You know Grace can't cook for shit, bless her heart.'

Pam laughed, glad for the distraction. Arnie always managed to cheer her up. 'Get outta here, old man. You get home late one more time and she'll take that recipe to her sister's place, along with your kids.'

'OK, I'm goin', I'm goin'.' He pulled his jacket over the wrong arm and struggled for a moment before bumping into Pam's desk, splashing cold coffee on a pile of papers. 'Could have married a woman who loved a good steak, but
nooooo
. I got the one who counts my calories.'

'Count your blessings, Arn. At least you're not going home to a junky brother and an overweight cat.'

Arnie grinned and gave her a wink before walking out the door, leaving her alone in the small office. She sat back for a minute, enjoying the image of Arnie sitting his 250-pound ass down to a plate of steamed vegetables. He always bitched about the strict diet his wife forced on him, but she knew he was happy. Hungry, but happy.

Pam, though, was miserable. The ten hour shifts she worked in this cold, cramped office were far from the life she'd imagined when she first moved to the city. She'd dreamed of working her way up through the company, kicking ass and taking names until she finally got herself an eye watering salary and a corner office on the 45th floor. Instead her career ladder had turned out to be missing a few rungs. After eight years at the company she was still stuck on 12, transcribing minutes from meetings held by people who didn't even know she existed.

It was, in every sense, a pointless job. Nobody ever read her work. In fact it wasn't even uploaded to the network. Most of her transcriptions were held right here on her computer, and weeks could go by without a request for a copy. Not only was her salary barely enough to pay the rent on a studio apartment in a bad part of town but it didn't even provide job security. She expected any day that someone in accounting would finally realize she wasn't needed. It was terrifying.

Twenty minutes later she was finally finished correcting her mistakes, as if it mattered. She saved the file on her hard drive and sent a project confirmation to Records. If anyone wanted a copy she'd get a release request from them, but she never held her breath. The only reason to stay so late to get the job done was that if she didn't she'd get calls and emails from at least five superiors in the morning to scold her for falling behind.

The hallways were empty now. It was almost seven, and nobody worked late in this part of the building. Their jobs just weren't important enough to require it. Pam flipped off the light switch and locked the office behind her before heading to the elevator bank at the far end of the corridor. All three were down at the ground floor but she noticed the executive elevator was heading down. It was at 15 now, and on an impulse she pressed the call button.

Staff on the floors below 25 weren't supposed to use the executive elevator. It was an express reserved for the higher ups, but Pam knew her floor wasn't locked out. Every once in a while an executive would need to make the trip down to 12. She could always recognize them in their expensive suits, walking quickly through the halls as if terrified their silk ties would transform into polyester if they spent too much time down in the ghetto.

The elevator drew to a halt and a tone beeped. Just as the doors began to open Pam panicked, realizing that the car would probably be occupied. She considered for a moment jumping out of the way, hiding behind a pot plant until the doors closed, but it was too late. Whoever was inside could already see her, standing there awkwardly in her cheap thrift store skirt and blouse looking like a kid playing dress up with her mom's clothes.

'Going down?' The man leaning casually against the back wall of the elevator raised an eyebrow and looked at her imploringly. For a moment Pam was struck dumb. The occupant of the elevator was a man she'd seen only twice before, but he'd made a starring appearance in her dreams countless times since. Tall, well built and blessed with a granite jaw the stranger had seemed, the first time she saw him stalking the halls, as if he'd just stepped out of a casting session for the latest Superman movie.