Romance: Stepbrother On Top

by A. Valentine

  Summer sank a few shots. She just happened to catch a glimpse of him watching her. He was watching her not her game. She looked up from her shot. Their eyes locked on to one another. Looking at him made Summer feel drunk. She returned her focus back to her game -- or tried to -- and missed her shot in a ridiculous way. Wilson was kind enough to suppress his laugh.

  “Oh well,” he said.

  Summer had as much fun watching him play as he apparently took in her. The man made her insides funny. He was absolutely perfect. He should be on television or something. Summer wanted him bad. Handsome. Everyone in the bar seemed to look up to him, do what he said. He was the coolest guy at Rowdy’s.

  Wilson sunk one ball after the other into the pockets, calling each one so casually. It was a quick and painless death. Summer lost the game. She lifted her head from the table and smiled at him. Wilson winked at her.

  “We’re done,” he said. “Now it’s time to get you home.”

  “What are you talking about?” Summer protested. “I just got here practically. And I don’t see anyone else leaving.”

  “I will walk you to your car,” he said firmly. “Now.”

  “I don’t have a car,” she smiled as though it were a triumph.

  “You do not have a car?” he raised his eyebrows at her. “How did you get here?”

  “I walked,” she tilted her head.

  Summer watched his face change. He was not pleased with her answer.

  “I will give you a ride home,” he announced. “Come.”

  Wilson and Summer put away their cues. He was paid up his tab at the bar. He grabbed a helmet and they left. He led her around the back of Rowdy’s. There were rows of shiny bikes. The sight of a parking lot packed with motorcycles was exciting to her.

  “Do you have a motorcycle?” she asked.

  “Yes I do,” he replied.

  He set his helmet on her head.

  “What about you?” she asked.

  “What about me what?” he asked.

  “Am I taking your helmet?” she asked.

  “Yes but I am fine,” he said. “Have you ridden a motorcycle before?”

  “No,” she replied.

  He rolled his eyes. He shook his head like he was scolding her. Then he winked again. He straddled the bike.

  “What is your address?” he asked.

  “It’s just straight down the street, in towards the houses. It’s the white house on the left at the fork,” she said.

  “I know it,” he answered.

  He encouraged her to hold on to him and to swing her leg over. Summer placed her hands very timidly on him. Wilson very quickly adjusted her hands to wrap around him. Summer’s body pressed up against his. It was a luscious, wicked windfall.

  Summer loved the way Wilson smelled. The mix of the night air and the hint of the shampoo that he used was so pleasant and arousing. Pressing against him was like pressing against a hard table. For a moment though, it occurred to Summer that she was out the back of a bar with a strange man. She was complete mercy as he pulled out onto the street.

  With each tip and swerve of the bike, Summer’s insides pulled. It was so erotic. That and the humming of the bike turned her on. The way the longish sweeps of his hair lifted in the wind as the bike cut through the night was also spectacular. Despite how the night began, with her storming out of her parents’ house, the moment was perfect. The last hour or so, absolutely perfect.

  The distance to Summer’s house was not that long. They were in front of her place very quickly. Wilson slowed the bike, balanced it with his feet. In the front window, lit up by the bright lights of the living room, were the outlines of Summer’s parents, deep in a heated argument. Summer thought she would die. She did not want to go inside. Fortunately, Wilson wasn’t rushing her. They idled quietly. The voices of her parents battered the night.

  “Those your folks?” he asked with mild amusement.

  “Yep,” she replied tensely. “Any chance I can get a ride back to Rowdy’s? I’ll just come home later.”

  “And how will you do that?” Wilson asked sternly.

  He was beginning to sound like one of her parents.

  “I’ll take a cab,” she replied.

  Wilson craned his neck around and glared at her.

  “When is the last time you saw a cab around here? It’ll take an hour at least for one to get here and I am not sure I like the thought of you getting in the cab with some stranger,” he said.

  Someone in the house threw something breakable. The crash rent the air.

  “You’re a stranger,” she reminded him.

  But he didn’t feel like that. She could feel him react to her remark but he didn’t say anything.

  “I don’t care. I am not going in there,” said Summer. “Take me to a motel.”

  Wilson arched his brow.

  “Do they get physical? Is your mother in danger? Or your father for that matter?” he chuckled.

  “No they just get super loud. I wish one of them would kill the other,” Summer grumbled.

  “Hey,” Wilson chastised sharply.

  Then he softened his tone.

  “You are quite correct. We are strangers. But I promise you, you can trust me. If you really can’t go inside and since I am not sure I trust you not to walk off again, you can crash at my place. It’s not far from here,” he said. “In fact it’s practically around the block.”

  “Well,” she smiled inside the helmet. “That’s mighty neighborly of you.”

  Summer felt like an alien talking to him with the helmet.

  He gripped her arm firmly. “I say it again. You can trust me. But if this happens again, you are not to go off with the first guy who gives you a ride. And you are not to go to Rowdy’s again.”

  Wilson started up the bike again and once again they were off. Summer didn’t care if she never went to Rowdy’s again - for nightlife; she intended to apply for a job there -- but riding off with Wilson was surreal. It was like a sweet movie come true. She was a grown up. She felt so adult. She was filled with adult feelings. As her thighs gripped his hips, Summer realized she ached for him. She wanted him. And when she got to his house, she was going to seduce him.

  Chapter Three

  Summer tried to imagine what sort of place he would keep. As they sliced through the street, she pictured a house maybe with roommates. But Wilson lived in an efficiency. Her surprise must have shown for he answered a question without her having to ask it.

  “I am divorced,” he said. “It’s been a while. But she wiped me out. What can I say?”

  Summer lingered at the entrance of the apartment. She wondered who on earth would leave him? He was so handsome. So cute. She thought, just by the way he took charge of things, he was pretty smart.

  “Come on in,” he said. “I promise it’s safe. I am safe.”

  His apartment was unbelievably tidy. The walls were decorated with motorcycle memorabilia. In particular, there was a logo. The Phantom Angels. Did Wilson belong to a gang?

  “What’s this?” she asked, a little nervous that this man might indeed be dangerous.

  He chuckled softly.

  “That’s the emblem for my club. I am the captain of the Phantom Angels. It’s a motorcycle club. You know Rowdy’s is a biker bar, right?”

  Summer shrugged. Wilson paused, looking at her with a faraway look in his eye.

  “You really are innocent, aren’t you?” he asked.

  Summer didn’t really feel innocent. She felt like a woman. The biker club made him more intriguing. She ran her fingers on a leather vest hanging on a pub rack at the entry. She processed. Of course Rowdy’s was a biker bar. That’s why all the guys looked the way they did.

  “So what does a motorcycle club do?” she asked.

  The question flooded her with excitement. And when he cut his sparkling eyes to her, smiling.

  “We’re not big bad wolves, if that’s what you’re wondering,” he said with a tilt of his head.
>
  “What do you do? Just hang out?” she asked.

  “More or less. Ride. Road trips. It’s a camaraderie thing,” he said. “We are there for each other.”

  Just like Wilson had been for her that night. Safely getting her where she needed to be. He opened a closet and pulled out as set of sheets.

  “I’ll sleep on the couch. You can sleep on the bed. You’re in luck,” he said. “I just made up the bed with clean sheets this morning.”

  He laughed.

  “Seriously,” he said. “I think you need to call your folks. Let them know you are okay.”

  Now she laughed. “They’re probably passed out; something they do when they run out of booze. They’re not waking up.”

  “Hey,” he touched her arm gently. “It’s not like that really? Are you just saying that to get a reaction out of me?”

  It had not occurred to her to make up stories about her family just to get him to pay attention to her. She wanted his attention in a different way. She showed him.

  “No,” she said lazily. “Promise.”

  They were in the perfect positions. Each of them paused and were struck by the same notion. He moved in closer to her and her to him. They brushed their lips against one another so softly. A sweet surge pulsed through her. She had never experienced that when she kissed a guy before. It made her a little weak, a little lightheaded.

  Wilson moaned. It was closer to a growl. His tongue snaked into her mouth and pressed against hers. He stroked the interior of her hot wet flesh, tasting her. Tantalizing her. He had a hypnotic effect on her. It was if he was blowing a force that flowed through her, liquefying her. He made her knees buckle.

  He sensed that. He dipped and supported the small of her back with his broad powerful hand. She felt so secure as she sank into his arms. He pressed his hips into hers, grinding, dancing. Finally, he broke the kiss and pulled back.

  “W-wait,” he said so softly. “What are we doing here? No.”

  It was strange but Summer could swear that Wilson was the shy one instead of the other way around.

  “We’re making out,” she smiled against his lips.

  “I know that,” he giggled.

  His laughter tickled her lips. He tipped his head to hers.

  “How old are you?” she asked.

  He made a face like he didn’t understand the point of the question.

  “I’m twenty-eight,” he said. “Why?”

  “Just wondering,” she replied softly.

  “I would be asking you the same thing but you already said. It’s the truth, isn’t it?” he asked.

  “I promise,” she said. “I’m about to turn nineteen.”

  “Are you now?” he asked playfully. “When will that be?”

  “Two months,” she said. “November.”

  “Alright then,” he responded.

  They were both dazed with each other. They danced slowly, swaying softly as their arousal grew. Summer could feel him thinking. She was thinking too. About how much she wanted this man. She ran her hands lightly up and down his back, stealing soft little kisses from him.

  It happened so fast. They met at the bar and now in his apartment. Even from the moment they stepped in through the door, things accelerated so quickly. She knew better than to do things like that -- to give herself over to a stranger. But Wilson didn’t feel like a stranger to her at all. She felt like they had a different kind of connection.

  She traced her hands over his pecs until they found the hem of his shirt. She lifted. Wilson moaned once more and then the pace of their passion ignited. All hesitation was gone. Now he picked up their passion’s pace. She slipped her T-Shirt off her head and skimmed her shorts. She unbuckled his belt and pushed his jeans off of his hips.

  They locked onto each other in a slow sensual kiss, as they kicked off the last of their clothes until they were completely naked. He pulled back so the he could get a really good look at her. Summer was not very experienced in love but she could tell by the look on his face that he liked what he saw.

  He stooped down and placed his hot mouth on her cupcake sized breast. His tongue drew on her soft nipple that was soon hard. The sensation pulled up through from her very center. She tightened her thighs. The excitement was ticklish and arousing. She ached and needed him. She was instantly consumed. She had to have him.

  Wilson cupped her buttocks, lifting her up with his powerful, strong hands. She wrapped her legs around the small of his back. The soft center of her body pressed against him. His arousal nudged her.

  Wilson walked them both to the bed. He laid her down on the generous surface. The plush cotton bedspread was cool and comfy against her skin. She wriggled soaking up the sensual delight of the bed. And with anticipation. She looked up at him as he hovered above her. He was so handsome, his longish hair falling around his face. He looked like chivalrous knight. It was so romantic.

  Summer spread her legs to welcome him. He settled into the center of her. His fingers searched her, finding her hot wetness. She was so aroused that his every touch made her muscles twitch and pull. She drew up tightly in her core. Wilson pressed at her slippery flesh, agitating her sensitive nub with knowing movement.

  Summer drew her knees up, arching her pelvis up towards him, giving herself over to his pleasure. Wilson put is mouth where his fingers were. The heat from his lips forced Summer to cry out. She writhed against him as he penetrated her tongue. She rocked up against him softly, mimicking the rhythm of his licking until she was wracked with complete and utter need.

  “Please,” she begged. “Please.

  “Okay baby,” he said.

  Wilson rose above her, looked her gently in her eye as he levered his hardness into her readied body. The feel and the wonder of him; Summer believed he filled her perfectly. He was generously endowed and she was tight around him. Once he was inside her completely, he paused. They kissed slowly and sensually. His kisses made her wetter.

  He moved. Slow movements and sweet stroking. Each glide released warm, intense arousal throughout her body. Summer had never been so aroused in her life. Every little movement and glide sent pulses of intense pleasure throughout. Her belly drew up.

  He moved in and out of her with steady stroking, each time sinking into her as deeply as he could go. Summer pushed her hips up towards him as though she could not get enough. She lifted her leg up and onto his shoulder. Wilson shivered.

  He took hold of her thigh and drove into her, his pace picking up. His glides turned into thrusts. His body stiffened as he was definitely chasing a purpose. Summer spied on him as his eyelids fluttered, his head tilted back as pleasure consumed him. She realized that every movement had such a powerful effect on him.

  She swiveled her hips as he drove into her. Cries tore from his lips. Finally, he made a declaration.

  “I am going to come,” he said.

  Though she had not climaxed herself, she found his words thrilling. She loved that she had pleased him so that he was about to peak with pleasure. And yet he apologized.

  “I am so sorry baby,” he half laughed and gave himself over to rapture.

  Wilson’s body was amazingly powerful and magnificent as he seized with loud orgasm. His muscles flexed and strained as he continued moving in and out of her. Summer cupped her breasts and gave him her most sultry gaze.

  “You’re killing me baby,” said Wilson.

  Finally, he collapsed. He draped his arms and legs over her. Summer smiled a broad smile of deep satisfaction. She stirred.

  “Where you going?” he murmured, his eyes still closed.

  “I am going to get us some water,” she said.

  “I’ll get that,” he said. “Meanwhile.”

  “Meanwhile?” she asked.

  His fingers sought her. With his ankle he hooked her legs and spread her legs. Wide. He vigorously worked her soft, petalled flesh, showing her no mercy. He forced her pleasure to climb. She squirmed, thinking she could not take the wondrous arousal. The
more she wiggled the more she exacerbated her own pleasure.

  “Come for me baby,” he encouraged.

  She did as she was told. Soon enough, she burst from deep within. One fire rocket after the other of sweet ecstasy. She spasmed to the core. Summer was paralyzed with the rolling ripples that overtook her, making her hum head to toe. She saw lights.

  Wilson nuzzled the base of her neck washing her with one more blast of pleasure. It was delicious.

  “Oh my goodness,” she said.

  He kissed her slowly and lazily.

  “I will be back with water,” he whispered.

  “How about a beer?” she said.

  “No no,” he said. “Let’s stick to water.”

  Summer dashed to the bathroom and freshened up. She dived into the bed and cuddled on the comfortable bed, still reveling in the amazing sex they shared.

  Wilson gave her buttocks a quiet playful spank as he set a glass of ice water down. He lay next to her clearly very spent. Summer was raring to go. She sat up and sipped her water. She let him doze as her eyes began to wander.

  She got out of bed and started looking at the pictures and things. She saw who she thought probably was his ex-wife. Whoever she was, she was pretty. A pang of jealously twitched in her. Wilson looked like he liked to have fun. There were obviously other members of Phantom Angels. They liked to go whitewater rafting and do things out doors.

  Summer strayed near the leather vest hanging next to the door. She put it on. She put on a pair of mirrored sunglasses that rested on a little table at the door. She checked herself in a mirror.

  “Why don’t you come on over here,” he murmured.

  She began to take off his vest.

  “Oh no,” he said. “Leave it on.”

  “‘Kay,” she replied, her belly warming.

  Wilson straightened his body out. Summer straddled him. She slipped his hardened length into herself. She lowered her body down on him, taking her within as deeply as she could. One hand touched between her legs and one cupped her breast. The pleasure that he had given her before, was brought back to life. The promise of sweet pleasure coiled up within her.