Threat (19 page)

I shrug. “I think he wanted to but he
never pushed. I just enjoyed the ride.”

He chuckles. “Princess.”

The sails catch wind. Threat stands behind the
wheel for a few moments, directing it as we slip away from the pier
and drift towards the center of the lake. The boat sways gently
beneath me. I can see the cabin from here, getting smaller and
smaller as we go. I let out a long breath and close my eyes; for a
moment it's as if all the emotional turmoil earlier in the day is
miles and miles away now.

“So are you going to give me the grand
tour of this baby, or what?”

When I open my eyes I find Threat planted right
in front of me. I shrug. “There's not that much to see.”

“Like how this was supposed to be a
'little' boat?”

“I mean, it's just a small cabin down
below,” I explain.

I jump up and make my way down the stairs, with
Threat falling in step behind me. The area is tight, but even I can't
deny it's well crafted luxury. My dad didn't skimp when he purchased
this baby—not with it's marble counter tops and stainless steel
appliances.

“Kitchen and common area, as you can
see,” I explain as I lead him through. Past that I open the
next door. “Bedroom. And that's pretty much it.”

His eyes wander around the room. “Oh,
come on, you have to admit this place is pretty bad ass.”

I chuckle and push my hair back. “I know
it's bad ass.”

“Sweet.” Threat goes directly for
the mini fridge and pulls out two Coronas, clanking against each
other. “Your dad sure knows how to keep a place stocked,”
he says as he hands one to me.

“Uh,” I mumble, staring down at it.

He looks at me oddly. “Do you not like
Corona or something?'

I shrug awkwardly. “I've just...never had
beer before?”

His face drops. “You have to be shittin'
me?”

“I'm not even old enough to drink, and
neither are you.”

He rolls his eyes hard. “Give me a break,
don't act like you haven't taken a sip, Leah Parker. Because you're a
damn liar if you do.”

I shrug. “I'm more of a wine girl,”
I say as I march over to the table and plop down on top of it.

“Oh, you're a wine girl,” he mocks,
his hands flailing on either side of him. He takes my hand and wraps
it around the neck of the bottle. “Well today, you'll drink
beer.”

He removes the top from his and takes a giant
gulp. Judging by his reaction, that beer must taste like liquid gold.

I turn my nose up. “There's no way it's
that
good. The shit even smells nasty.”

He shakes his head. “It's fucking
delicious, here,” he flips the cap off of mine as well. “Go
ahead and take a sip.”

“I don’t even want this.”

“Stop being so damn stubborn and drink
the beer.”

“Urgh, fine,” I mumble before
bringing the bottle to my lips and letting the cool liquid flow
between them. One taste is all it takes for me to stick my tongue out
and gag. “It tastes like liquid piss!”

Threat laughs hard, and he takes another swig.
“You better finish it. You're not wasting any beer on my
watch.”

“I'm not promising anything,” I
reply. I hold my nose, forcing myself to finish the rest. Hm, maybe
it's not so bad. It's an acquired taste, at the very least.

“So this was your big final dare all
along? This whole time, you wanted to steal a boat?”

He shakes his head as he finishes his beer.
“Nope, I had something even bigger in mind.”

“Do I even want to know?”

He smirks. “Guess.”

“You want me to guess what's in that
deranged mind of yours? I'll pass.”

“Just take a guess, Parker.”

“Well gee, what's the most depraved,
humiliating, and illegal thing I can come up with?”

He clutches his chest and says, “That
hurts. What kind of guy do you think I am?”

“I think you're
you
,
and that's cause enough to be worried,” I reply with a giggle.
“So? Inquiring minds want to know.”

He twists his lips, his brows arching
mischievously as he drags it out and makes me wait. “Well?”
Every second that passes my assumptions become more and more
perverse.

“Make out with a stranger,” he
announces proudly.

Huh? “Make out with a stranger? Really,
that's it?”

“Make out with a specific stranger on his
Harley.” His lips purse. “But a boat would suffice.”

My eyes widen. “Wait so your last dare
would have been for me to make out with
you
?”

“Who said the game was over?”

I swear, he is unbelievable. I shake my head,
flustered with nervous laughter. “Well, you're not exactly a
stranger now, are you?” I manage to stall.

“I guess you don't have many options,”
he smirks.

His gaze is unwavering and his eyes lock on
mine. There's something darker beneath his heavy glare—dare I
go there? “Didn't you get enough upstairs,” I stammer, in
a failed attempt to brush the whole thing off with sarcasm failing
miserably.

“You're stalling, Parker.” He leans
casually back against the opposite side of the cabin. “But
fine, if you'd rather chicken out and not finish the game, I guess
that's on you.”

“Our parents are married. We're
stepbrother and stepsister.” Am I reminding him, or am I
reminding myself?

“So that's the only thing holding you
back?”

I pause.
It
sure didn't hold me back last night.
“I—I didn't say that.”

He moves towards me. All my muscles contract
the closer he gets.

“Are you telling me, if there wasn't this
invisible, intangible boundary between us, that you wouldn't be off
limits?”

“Threat, stop,” I whisper weakly,
which, in his usual fashion, he ignores. He closes what little gap is
left between us, his knee between mine, his hands touching the table
on either side of me, fencing me in like a cage. I both love and hate
when he traps me like this.

“Answer the question,” he demands.

“Why do you do this? Is it all part of
some sick twisted game of yours?”

“Is that what you think I'm doing?”

I nod. “Yes.”

His eyes run the length of me and back up to my
face again. “What kind of guy do you think I am?”

“I don't know,” I speak into my
hands. “How do I know you aren't still the same old David, just
ready to mock me for thinking I could ever have you?”

His brows furrow and he shakes his head. “It's
not a game anymore, Leah.”

“Then what is it? What is it that you
want?”

“It's you I fucking want,” he
growls. “Don't you get that?”

His insistence and the intensity in his eyes
draws every last breath out of my lungs. I'm left without words, lips
trembling as he stares me down, waiting for me to react.

Until he reacts first.

With a kiss.

The kiss isn't gentle; he's rough and
possessive with my needy lips, which I give up willingly. Before I
can fully process it my hands are tangled in and tugging on his locks
as he pulls me in hard against his chest, my legs locking around his
hips. I'm not thinking rationally here—I'm not thinking at all.
I might regret this later, but I don't care.

For the first time in my life, I just don't
fucking care. And I've never felt freer.

This time, when he slides his tongue into my
mouth, I'm more than ready to receive it. I need it. I grip his
shoulders, suckling that wicked tongue of his as it pushes against
mine. He pulls back and runs it over my upper lip, before his lips
press tight against my cheek.

“You taste,” he says breathlessly
against my skin, “Just as amazing as you feel.” His lips
trail down over my jaw, landing in the crook of my neck with each and
every word.

When I pull back the absence of his lips upon
my skin is painful and obvious. His eyes are aflame with lust—for
me? Hell, he can barely keep his hands off me, with his fingers
digging into my hips. I reach for the hem of his shirt and slide it
up over his torso—
what am I
doing?
His eyes widen with
delightful surprise, but no one's more shocked at my actions than me.

My heart rate picks up, and it's not just
arousal, but fear. And it's not him I'm afraid of, it's me.

He grabs my hand tight, stopping me. “Are
you sure you know what you're doing?”

No.
“I
know what I want.”

His lips curl into a smile. With his help I rip
the shirt clean off him, revealing his perfectly sculpted abs and
chest. Good God, he looks like he's carved from marble. I think I
gawk at him for a little too long.

“You could do so much more with me than
stare,” he says.

He takes my hands, bringing them up to his
chest and sliding them down to his waistband. Something within me
stirs from feeling his muscles contract beneath my fingertips. I
press my lips against his skin, taking in his scent, feeling the
warmth of his body against my face as his chest steadily heaves. I
look up into his eyes, with his hands cradling my face, as I leave a
trail of kisses on his bare skin. I run my tongue over his salty
skin, right above my belly button, my fingers curling beneath the
waistband of his jeans.

He takes me by the wrists and pulls my hands
away.

“You don't know what you're getting into,
Parker,” he whispers to me. He wraps my hair around his hand
like a glove and tugs my head back. My lips part as his hover above,
craving his kiss. “Because if you get me started, I just might
not be able to stop.” I gulp. “And if I take you, I just
might not want to let you go.”

I shudder at the thought of it.

His lips brush against mine. “Is that...a
threat?” I ask cheekily.

A dark, ominous,
sexy
laugh emanates from his throat. “Consider it a promise.”

My heart leaps.

He kisses me deep, his other hand encircling my
neck and drawing a line down my throat with the pad of his thumb. I
moan into his mouth, his touch is as tantalizing as ever. He lets my
hair unfurl from his palm and pulls back. His eyes drop to my chest.
“Take that shit off,” he says in a voice so low I can
barely recognize it as his.

I bite my lip, my fingers shaking with
anticipation as I fumble with my top button. I'm going purposely
slow, or at least that's what I tell myself, popping each button
one...by one...by one. He looks like a ravenous animal, unable to
take his eyes off the hint of cleavage I slowly reveal.

I only get about half way down before he grunts
and clutches the seam of my shirt. “Fuck this,” he
mumbles as he rips it wide open, tiny white buttons flying and
rattling against the wooden table beneath me. I yelp but it's quickly
muffled by his mouth as he covers me with his body, pushing me back
against the hard surface.

He's frantic, running his tongue over my
throat, pressing his hot open mouth against my chest and stomach as
he makes his way down my body. He moans like he's tasting the
sweetest candy, and gropes me like he's memorizing the curves of my
frame. He rips off my shorts, followed by my sandals, and holds my
legs up against his chest.

“Skin's beautiful,” he murmurs,
lips pressed against the sole of my foot. He runs his hands down the
front of my thigh, kneading the skin with his fingers. “God,
you're fucking beautiful.” My heart flutters. He kisses the
back of my calf, and then my thigh as he kneels before me. He slips
his fingers between, stroking the delicate skin of my inner thigh. My
fists ball, almost instinctively, and my core tightens. He strokes me
in that sensitive spot so lightly and I arch up off the table, my
chest expanding as I gasp for air.

“If it gets to be too much for you,”
he says, slipping his thumbs beneath the elastic of my underwear,
“Just tell me and—”

“I thought you said you wouldn't stop?”

“I'm just sayin'. I don't exactly...do
gentle,” he says, dragging his thumb over the length of my
slit. My toes curl.

“Good, because I don't want that.”

His lids lower, leaving the most deviant gleam in his dark eyes, as
if he has the darkest plans in store for me. My stomach muscles
tighten into knots. What have I gotten myself into?

With my knees draped over his shoulders, he slips his fingertip
between my slick folds, landing on my mound and circling it. I squirm
against his touch and reach out for him; he's too far away to grab
hold of and it's absolutely
agonizing
.

He chuckles darkly, like he enjoys tempting me. “Just wait,
baby,” he hums against the malleable flesh of my inner thigh.
The tortuous vibration goes straight to my core. He pushes the fabric
of my panties to the side and suckles my flesh.