Science Fiction Romance: Biomechanical Hearts (Space Sci-Fi Love Triangle) (New Adult Paranormal Fantasy)

by Olivia Myers

  I hadn’t been with anyone in a while. Months, at least. My job could be intense sometimes and it didn’t pay well. I didn’t get out much.

  “It’s not far,” he said, eyes ahead.

  We walked in silence for a few minutes. Had we left all our words in the bar? As long as we kept our mutual attraction, I didn’t mind if we left a few words behind.

  Eventually the silence became unbearable. I had to find something to say.

  “Do you live nearby too?” he asked first.

  “Not anymore. I grew up here but I live in Brooklyn now.”

  “Brooklyn’s great. What do you do?”

  “I’m a third grade teacher.”

  He raised his eyebrows and nodded. “A noble profession.”

  Yes, noble, but not as sexy as a compassionate job working with African refugees.

  We walked up the driveway of a modest one-story house lit from behind by the moon. The freshly cut grass scented the night air and I shivered.

  “Cold?” Trey put an arm around me and pulled me close. The swarm of butterflies pushed up into my throat.

  On the front stoop, he paused. “I hope this isn’t too forward, but I’ve wanted to do this since you said, ‘long story.’” He put his free hand on my cheek and tilted my face up to his and kissed me.

  His lips started soft and warm and curious but before long they became insistent. One of his hands played in my hair and the other rested on my waist.

  Too soon, he pulled away. He fumbled in his pocket, pulled out keys, and unlocked the door. But as soon as we’d stepped inside the small foyer and he’d closed the door, he pulled me to him again. My lips parted willingly.

  He led me down a hallway I didn’t see and into a bedroom I couldn’t see. His hands never left my body—they moved all over my waist, hips, and ass. In the bedroom, I sat on the bed and he leaned into me, his warm mouth strong against mine. He pushed me down and rolled over me to his side. I turned to face him.

  “Hi,” he said.

  I grinned. “Hi.”

  “Are you okay?”

  Instead of answering, I kissed him and let my hands explore the hard planes of his chest, and his tight abs, how they naturally formed a V pointing to his cock. He groaned and I felt his mouth smile against mine.

  Pulling back, I looked at him. The moon shone through the window and my eyes had adjusted to the darkness. He reached for me, but I kept away, just long enough to kick my sandals off.

  He laughed and electricity ran through me at the sound. His shoes clunked on the floor and he gave his full hazel-eyed attention back to me.

  The butterflies flew away and I gave myself to the pleasure of his touch. He started with my face, kissing my lips, caressing my cheeks, playing with my hair. Soon, his hands and lips seemed to be everywhere at once. He’d lick one part of me and remove a piece of clothing from another.

  My naked body rubbed against his clothed one. It was one of the sexiest things I’d ever experienced.

  His belt buckle pushed into my belly. “Let me get rid of that,” he mumbled into my hair.

  Leaning into him, I pulled him closer against me. “Let me.”

  I yanked off his belt and loosened his pants. All the while, his fingers explored my body. My skin felt so hot. Everywhere he touched burned in the best way possible.

  I pulled his shirt over his head. As soon as he was free, he wrapped his arms around me and let his hands roam down to my butt.

  I pushed at his khakis and he pulled them off. Finally, we lay next to each other as equals, skin on skin.

  He slid down my body, kissing as he went.

  I writhed on the cool sheets, fingers curling into his hair.

  His fingers explored my center, separating the pink folds and entering me. I moaned and gasped, which spurred him on. His fingers made me tingle. My thighs tightened against his hand so he laid one of his legs over mine.

  His tongue flicked at my nipple. I whimpered.

  It had been so long, I just wanted to go to the next step. I reached for his cock. “Come inside of me.”

  His hand moved from between my legs to my face. He pressed his cock against my center and then he was inside me. I stretched around him, aching in the best way. The friction from his thrusts took me higher and higher until I couldn’t go further. Then I screamed his name and shuddered around him. With three last frantic thrusts, he grunted and I felt him come to completion, too.

  He held me in his arms, kissing my temple and the top of my head, tracing my nose, my cheeks, my lips. After a few minutes, his hands became still, and his breathing deep and regular. I watched him sleep. Jet lag had finally claimed him and he lay so still and so peaceful.

  Jet lag, because he’d flown home from Sudan today.

  I remembered a time in my past when my dream had been to help people in Africa. The Peace Corps accepted me and chose to send me to Botswana. But before I left, my father had a heart attack and I stayed home to care for him and be with my mom.

  My dream had shattered in a moment.

  That dream had haunted me ever since. I didn’t regret my decision to stay. My parents had needed me then and I chose family over myself. I’d make the same choice today.

  I couldn’t help but wonder how my life might be different had I had the chance to follow my dreams to Africa. Maybe I’d still be a teacher, maybe I’d still live in Brooklyn. I’d never know.

  I also didn’t know where tonight would lead. Again, I had to choose my family.

  As quietly as possible, I got out of Trey’s bed, put on my hastily discarded clothes, and found my way out of his house.

  I walked back to the bar, got in my car, and headed to my mother’s. She’d need me in the morning. Her wedding day.

  ***

  “Justine, what would I do without you?” Mom said as I put the finishing touches on her eye make-up.

  “You’d have Eileen do it.” Her best friend was puttering around downstairs, performing last minute checks with the florist and caterer.

  Mom swatted my hand playfully. “I’m glad we have these last few moments alone together.”

  “Me, too.” Mom had been alone for several years after Dad died, and I was happy when she met Mark last year, a lawyer who made a good living and would take care of her.

  “I’m so glad you’ll finally meet Mark’s son Trevor today. You’re both always so busy.”

  As if I was in such a rush to meet my new brother, the fancy doctor. As a plastic surgeon, he made money changing women’s looks for men. I’d been busy giving a decent education to kids from impoverished neighborhoods. Yeah, I shouldn’t judge; I was still paying off student loans and might never be able to travel further than my suburban hometown. Certainly not to Africa.

  An image of Trey licking his way down my body suddenly popped into my mind and my face flushed. For a change, there had been a perk to sleeping in my hometown last night.

  “Today will be chaotic, of course,” Mom continued, interrupting my hot memory. “So, Trevor has invited us to dinner at his apartment in Manhattan tomorrow night. Isn’t that nice? It will give the four of us a chance to get to know each other and become more like a family before Mark and I leave for Tahiti.”

  Yeah, nice. An intimate dinner in a fancy high-rise apartment overlooking one of the rivers. For Mom’s sake, I’d try to behave. I’d try not to berate my new stepbrother for being part of the problem, rather than the solution.

  I gave Mom a last swipe of powder. “I’m really glad you found someone who makes you happy.”

  She squeezed my hand and fought the tears puddling in her eyes. “Thank you, sweetie. You’ll find someone soon.”

  Of course she didn’t know about last night. I pushed memories of Trey aside. Maybe I should have left a note with my number. Then I’d obsess about whether he’d ever call me. This way, it could be a beautiful memory. One I’d relive in my bed each night for months.

  We joined Eileen downstairs and climbed into the waiting limo. She
and Mom chattered the whole way to the hotel, especially about the honeymoon plans.

  The hotel had been built when I was in elementary school and had been a big deal at the time. It looked like a large-scale Swiss chalet, an unusual architectural choice for a New York suburb.

  We hustled Mom into a special lounge near the ballroom to await the strains of Pachelbel’s Canon. When the music started, I went out to meet my escort for our walk down the aisle.

  A man waited for me in the entrance to the ballroom. His back was to me. He wore a black tuxedo and filled it out like it had been made for him. Broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and long legs reminded me of a certain someone I’d spent an enjoyable couple of hours with recently.

  The man turned and I stopped walking. My heart may have stopped beating too.

  “Justine.” Trey’s eyes took in my appearance, from my pointy-toed, sparkly heels, up my short pink chiffon dress, to the black curls piled on my head. “Wow, you look amazing.”

  My face flushed again.

  Eileen rushed up the aisle to us. “Come on guys, what are you waiting for?”

  I looked at Trey again. He was clearly dressed as someone in a wedding party and I was supposed to be escorted by Mark’s son. He couldn’t be.

  “You’re Trevor?”

  He nodded and my expression turned to horror. I’d slept with him last night. With my….

  Unlike me, Trey didn’t seem bothered by what we’d done. He smirked.

  “Justine and Trevor,” Eileen said. “Let’s go. Let’s get your parents married.”

  Trey…Trevor…took my arm and started down the aisle.

  I couldn’t believe it. The handsome, sweet, humanitarian I’d slept with last night was Trevor, the greedy plastic surgeon? How was this possible? I wasn’t sure which piece was the most disgusting. Who he really was, in terms of his lifestyle and true self? Or that he was about to be my stepbrother?

  Bile rose in my throat and I swallowed it down. No matter what, I wouldn’t ruin my mother’s special day.

  “Why didn’t you tell me your real name?” I whispered.

  “My friends call me Trey, so I think of it as my real name.”

  “Did you know who I really was?” He couldn’t have. He wouldn’t have knowingly slept with his soon-to-be-sister. Right?

  “Of course not,” he whispered back, smiling around at the people seated in the ballroom as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

  Then again, he didn’t have a care in the world. He made scads of money to spend on lavish city apartments and fast cars and trips around the globe. Okay, so I’d made it all up. I had no idea how he spent his money. I could only imagine.

  “But we’re not actually related, you know,” he said. “We didn’t do anything wrong last night.”

  Last night. I remembered his mouth on mine and heat burned low in my belly. I shook off the memory. Now was definitely not the time.

  We reached the minister and Mark. My new stepdad. Trey’s father.

  Trey kissed my hand then took his place next to his dad. I stood on the other side of the minister and turned to watch my mother walk down the aisle. My heart expanded at the look of joy on her face.

  I glanced at Mark and he only had eyes for my mom. He practically glowed with happiness.

  My gaze raked over Trey and our eyes met. He winked.

  He was as infuriating as I’d always imagined someone like him would be.

  Mom and Mark said “I do,” there was lots of clapping and cheering, and the ceremony ended. Trey took my arm and we pretended to stroll pleasantly back up the aisle. “You really do look gorgeous,” he said.

  His words prickled uncomfortably on my skin. He was my stepbrother now. He had no right to say such things anymore. But a part of me was flattered.

  For Mom’s sake, I put on a smile for pictures and pretended everything was fine. As soon as the photographer released us, I made a beeline for the bar. I debated taking it easy with white wine or drowning this latest development in martinis.

  “A dirty martini?” a familiar voice asked.

  I whirled around to find my new stepbrother smiling down at me and looking impossibly handsome in his tux. I wanted to crumple, to give in to his obvious charms.

  “No.” I faced the bartender. “White wine, please.”

  Trey laughed. Yes, this was all great fun. Finding out the best night of my life should never have happened. And with a plastic surgeon who spent his life doing nose jobs and giving women bigger boobs.

  I took my wine and marched away from him. Who needed Trey? There were plenty of other people here for me to talk to. My Aunt Vanessa and Uncle Mike. My cousins. Mom’s friends, Eileen and Chris and Joanne.

  Mom and Mark did their official first dance to Etta James’s “At Last.”

  The song choice gave me a pang. Did she still miss Dad sometimes? I did. Someday I'd get married and he wouldn't be here to give me away.

  “Can I please have this dance?”

  Glancing around, I noticed several people watching us. I guess they expected the kids to dance with each other. “Sure. But only because we have to.”

  He took me in his arms and whirled me to the center of the dance floor. Of course, he knew exactly how to dance, how to move. And I was all too aware of each movement and its effect on me.

  “Do you always do what you think you have to?” he asked.

  I sighed in annoyance. “Clearly not.”

  He laughed again. “Right. I remember.”

  I peeked at his face to see if he was making fun of me but all I saw in his eyes was heat. Taken by surprise, I swallowed and couldn’t tear my gaze away from his.

  We continued to move around the dance floor but I had no idea how or where. My steps followed his. He guided me with his hips and thighs, and the gentle pressure of his arms around me. My eyes stayed glued to his and my mind was in turmoil.

  When the song ended, I pushed him away and ran. I ran out of the ballroom and through the hotel’s corridors. Outside, I tried to catch my breath. How was this possible? I hadn’t met a decent guy, a guy worth a second look, in months. When I finally did, he was all wrong, on so many levels.

  “Have I done something wrong?”

  I expelled a frustrated breath. “Why are you following me? Can’t a woman have a moment to herself?”

  “Is that all it is? Because it seems like you’re mad at me.”

  I closed my eyes and tried to think through the fog caused by his nearness. By the manly scent of him.

  “I’m not mad at you, I’m just mad. Last night was…”

  “Last night was what?”

  “Amazing.” There, I’d said it, for good or bad.

  His shoulders relaxed. “I agree. Then what’s wrong?”

  “Last night was wrong. We’re related now, Trey. Or should I call you Trevor like my stepfather does?”

  He stepped away from me and kicked at the wall. “We’re not related, not by blood. We didn’t even grow up together as stepbrother and stepsister. There’s nothing wrong with us being together.”

  Maybe he was right, but I didn’t know how to explain the rest. About him being wrong for me. About his values being the opposite of mine.

  “We’re…too different. Anyway, today is about our parents, not us.” I walked away from him and reentered the ballroom to celebrate with my mother.

  ***

  Each step dragged the closer I got to Trey’s building on Manhattan’s East Side. I wasn’t looking forward to spending an evening alone with him, Mom, and Mark. Like we were a family now.

  I shuddered and trudged along the street from the subway station.

  His building was like several I’d passed during my years in New York, but I’d never actually been inside one this grand. The marble of the lobby shone and glittered in the lights of a massive chandelier. A red-coated doorman had opened the door for me and another uniformed man stood behind a counter to one side.

  I wasn’t used to this kind of luxury
. Worse, it made me continue to question my feelings for Trey and the kind of man he really was. I wanted to believe he was the man I’d first met, the man I’d spent the night with.

  The thought alone made a blush creep up my face as the elevator climbed higher and higher.

  But he was also the rich plastic surgeon who probably only spent time in Africa to assuage his guilt at making more money than everyone else. Did he care about other people?

  The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. I was on the top floor. Trey had a penthouse apartment in Manhattan.

  My world was so different. Dingy classrooms. A tiny studio apartment with finicky heat and no air conditioning. Subways instead of taxis.

  A door in front of me opened before I knocked. An older woman with hair pulled back in a severe – and old-fashioned – bun stood in the doorway. “Are you Justine?” the woman asked with an accent. I nodded. She smiled and held out her hand. “I’m Masha. Come in, come in.”

  She ushered me in to a palatial living room with a wall of windows looking out on the East River in shadow from the setting sun.

  Mom joined me at the windows. “And there’s Brooklyn,” she said, pointing. “Looks pretty from here.”

  Before I could answer, Trey came in with a bottle of champagne. Champagne flutes waited on a table in front of him. He gave me a cocky grin. “Like the view?”

  I ignored him. I didn’t know if he was being sincere or smarmy that his view was overlooking my less expensive part of the city.

  He opened the champagne with only a tiny pop and poured it into the four flutes. Mark passed them around.

  “A big thank-you to my son for hosting us tonight for this quiet family dinner,” Mark said.

  I nearly choked on my champagne. In my head I knew Trey was now family, but my heart was still trying to deny it.

  Mark continued, “I’m so glad Justine could join us. I know this is the end of the school year for you and you must be insanely busy. Your mother and I really appreciate your support.” He gave me a big smile, an older and thinner-lipped version of Trey’s.

  I beamed back. I liked Mark and I liked him with my mom. They seemed genuinely happy. I couldn’t have asked for a better second chance for her.