by Gunn, Autumn
PISTOL
A Stepbrother Romance
Autumn Gunn
Copyright © Autumn Gunn
All rights reserved.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher, except in case of critical articles or reviews who may quote brief passages to be published in a magazine, newspaper, online or other media.
If you have not purchased this book from Amazon you are reading a pirated book.
The author acknowledges the trademarked status of products referred to in this book and acknowledges that trademarks have been used without permission.
This book contains mature content, including graphic sex. Please do not continue reading if you are under the age of 18 or if this type of content is disturbing to you.
NOTE: All characters in the book are 18+ years of age, non-blood related, and all sexual acts are consensual.
Dedication
This book is dedicated to the American soldier. When their country calls, they go. Willingly.
They take our place on the battlefield. Everything at risk.
Stay safe.
Thank you.
We love you.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
I wanted to fuck her the first second as I saw her. That curvy little body was built for speed. More dangerous curves than a mountain pass on my Yamaha YZF-R1 superbike. Those epic tits were spilling out of her snug pink tank top. Her dark hair well down her back. She was sipping on a freshly squeezed lemonade. Those pouty lips were made for sucking my dick.
She was sitting with some guy. I could see he had a tight grip around her wrist. He was talking to her angrily.
The light turned green. I u-turned my bike in the intersection and rolled up right in the parking spot next to her sidewalk table.
I got off my bike and walked right up to them. Removed my helmet as I approached.
"Leave her alone."
She looked up from her book. It looked like some sort of math textbook.
The guy sitting next to her said, "Fuck off. Mind your own business."
"This is my business."
He pushed his chair back.
"Don't do it."
"Don't do what?"
"Stand up."
Too late.
He took a swing. A haymaker. A wild haymaker. Of course. They always do that. It must have missed me by four full inches. His momentum carried him through. I grabbed him by the back of the neck with my right hand and the back of his reddish designer jeans with my left.
Throwing a man is much easier when you have a little momentum. I rocked him back on his heels about an inch then brought him back forward my way. Carried through like the backswing at a bowling alley.
It's a sure fire move. They land face down in a totally venerable position. The humiliation is enough. The Superman position they naturally assume during the short flight just adds insult to injury.
"What the hell was that for?"
I stared right into his eyes as he lifted himself up off the concrete. When he got to his feet he slowly backed away and walked in the other direction.
"You okay?"
Up close she was somehow even sexier.
"I'm fine."
"I have time to take you for a ride."
Her head was tilted slightly to one side. Her neck exposed to me. She looked me in the eye. She was calm. It was like she was either trying to read me, break my confidence, or decide.
Girls can read me easily. I don't give a fuck. 100% of the time. I do what I want. On my terms. They eat it up.
Break my confidence? A guy in reddish hipster pants. Sure. Me? Please. Next question.
Decide? She was deciding.
"What makes you think I want to go for a ride?"
"You're doing math. It's 1:17 in the afternoon on the first warm day of May."
Two barbie doll blondes were sitting at the table next to her. They had seen the whole thing.
"We want to go for a ride!" The more platinum of the two said.
I didn't break eye contact with the brunette.
"You only have one helmet."
"You can borrow mine."
"What about you?"
"You don't need a helmut in Colorado if you're over 17."
"I want you to have one. It doesn't look safe."
"Sitting in a coffee shop on a warm spring isn't always safe. Just depends on who you're with"
She paused.
I lived for adrenaline rushes. Motorcycle racing. Base jumping. Black diamond snowboarding. Pure speed. If it went fast, I wanted in.
The Marine Corps was a natural choice. Travel to new and exciting countries and blow up stuff. Cause havoc. In and out. Stealth speed and destruction. At least that's what a 17 year old testosterone fill boy though.
My mom was thrilled to sign the parental consent form for the Delayed Entry Program. Finally I'd get some discipline. I'd be surrounded by positive male role models.
Exactly one month after my 18th birthday and I'd be gone. Out of here. On to the yellow footprints of Marine Corps Recruit Depot San Diego. I wanted to be special ops. All or nothing.
My all or nothing right now was her. Math homework girl. I had three days until I was off to Recruit Training.
"OK. But you have to drive safely. Only a quick ride. And I hold your driver's license. Just in case you try something."
"Deal. Hop on."
She put her books into her backpack. Double tied her shoelaces. Put on my helmet.
I handed her my license. We were off.
I knew a beautiful mountain pass just outside of town. I had taken a lot of other girls there before. It blew them away. About as close to a guaranteed lay as you can get.
For some reason I didn't want to go there. This girl was different. I could tell. She was making demands of me. Standing up for herself. Carefully optimistic, but realistic.
I wanted to do something unique. Out of the ordinary. There could only be one place. Deer Creek.
We picked up W. Deer Creek Canyon road less than a mile south of C-470 on Denver's southwest side. We headed west about six miles onto Deer Creek Road before becoming Pleasant Park Road.
Math homework girl didn't say anything. I could see in my mirrors that she was taking in the view. Steep rocky valleys below and huge rock walls above.
I went slow through the tight turns. I had to. I promised to be safe. Plus it allowed her to take in the fresh mountain air and take in the engulfing views with the helmut visor up.
These curvy roads were smooth and perfectly paved. We came out of one turn and I felt her lean slightly to my right side.
"It's really curvy. The view is beautiful. It smells so good."
"Just like you."
She leaned back to her original position. I looked in my mirrors. I could see her holding a smile.
Higher up on Pleasant Park Road we stopped to take in a distant view of the Rockies.
We sat down on a big rock. I took the granola bar out of my riding jacket and offered it to her.
"Thank you. Do you want some?"
"No thanks."
She broke off a piece and placed it in her palm. A family of squirrels hurried over. Stopping just short of a possible meal. They lo
oked at her then didn't hesitate. The mother squirrel reached into her hand and took the piece of granola bar. She scurried about six inches back to her small children and distributed the meal. She quickly came back for seconds. Then thirds. Eventually the entire bar was gone. The squirrels made some sort of thank you noise and took off back into the hills. We broke the peaceful silence with a laugh.
"Have you been here before?"
"No," she said. "My dad just bought some land here. We're new to town."
"What do you think so far?"
"Well. Today is definitely off to an interesting start. Do you normally spend your Tuesdays rescuing girls and then whisking them away on your white horse?"
"No. I usually save that for Thursdays. On Tuesdays I rescue kittens from trees and help grandmas safely cross the street. But you should really see me on Mondays."
She smirked. "What happens on Mondays?"
I rescue families from burning buildings, fight government corruption, restock the streams with trout, and ride my white horse through the nightlife district collecting all the trash from the weekend that's recyclable and taking it to the recycle center. Of course I donate the money from the recyclables to my real passion. Big Brothers and Big Sisters of Colorado."
"Something tells me that might not all be entirely true."
"Why do you say so?"
"I volunteer at Big Brothers and Big Sisters."
"Wow. Really?"
"Yeah. My father was an orphan. He told me how one of the guys in his town taught him how to do things when he was growing up. How to become a strong man, but also caring and compassionate."
"That's really cool."
"Thanks. Yeah, it really made an enormous difference in his life. Especially as a young man in that position. Sometimes boys under those circumstances can lash out in frustration, anger, or other emotions which can be unhealthy. I want to carry on that tradition of helping. Give back for what my father received. Plus of course I love kids."
They say a man knows when he meets the one. I never believed it, but I could feel it. It was unseasonably warm. Nearly 80 degrees. I looked down and saw goosebumps on my arms where my riding jacket had been.
I looked off into the distance at the Rockies. Only three more days until I'm gone to Recruit Training and of course I meet the coolest girl ever.
We were about a foot apart on the rock. She was on my right. I slid over until the sides or our thighs were touching. I looked her in directly in the eyes. I could see calm, but her pupils were dilating. We held our glances for what seemed like an eternity. Probably about 30 seconds.
I brought up my right hand and placed it on the side of her right cheek. Her skin was soft. Flawless. I rubbed her cheek with my thumb. I moved my fingers behind her ear and onto her neck. Still stroking her cheek with my thumb. Our eyes still locked on one another.
Then those damn squirrels came back. They were everywhere. I guess that one family ran off to tell all their friends. I reached over with my left hand to shoo them away.
The rock was generally flat but had some angles. When I reached to shoo the squirrels, I fell towards my left. My left hand break the fall. I had kind of landed on top of her with my hand still under her neck and my fingers bracing her head. We laughed.
As I lay on top of her looking into her eyes, I could feel my cock becoming so hard I could have pounded through that centuries old rock like my hardness was a sledgehammer.
I brought up my left hand and ran it through her hair. Still supporting her head with my right.
My left hand drifted down onto her shoulder. Her skin still milky white from the effects of winter.
I brought my left hand up and cupped the other side of her head. I rolled about eight inches and my torso was now directly on top of her. Surely she could feel the hardness in my jeans. I couldn't take it anymore.
My mouth crashed down on hers. Her lips intoxicating. I live for speed and my heart was racing.
My cock hurt. The jeans struggling to contain its length.
I dropped my left hand to her breast. Taking in a full hard grab. She let out a gasp.
I opened my mouth wider as we kissed and our tongues twisted into one. Exploring.
I was breathing hard through my nose. Short. Heavy breaths. I had never been so aroused before in my life.
I reached inside and across the top of her tank top with my right hand. Pulled out her left breast. I traced a circle around her areola with my tongue. Then a quick flip of my tongue on her nipple. Her back arched. She exhaled hard. Her right hand grabbed my back. Fingernails buried inside my skin. My blood was racing. I felt alive. Fucking was a bigger rush than base jumping. Riding down an enormous, nearly vertical mountain face. Even riding my sportbike. Fuck yeah. Nothing was better than fucking.
"I want to take take your pants off and fuck you."
She breathed out. Arched her back. "Oh my God."
"Are you ready for the best fuck of your life?"
"Wait."
Wait? What the fuck is wait. Nobody tells me to wait.
"I really want to, but I can't."
"You need me to wear a condom?"
"It's not that."
"Something else? Just tell me."
"It's kind of personal."
"Five seconds ago we were about to have sex on a rock overlooking one of the most beautiful places on earth. What could be more personal?"
She could see I was upset. Disappointed was more like it. I felt like I had crashed. Bike into the wall. Parachute didn't open. Avalanche. One minute full speed. Then suddenly, boom. Over.
"It's kind of embarrassing, but I'm not ready."
"Not ready to have sex with me?"
"Not ready to have sex with anyone."
Oh shit. She was still innocent.
The v-card.
I'm all about the rush of hot sex, especially outside, but this was something else entirely. Has to be two willing parties. Two adults. I may only be 18, but I know what I'm doing. Trust me. I've been told. A lot.
"OK. I understand." And I did. I was so hot for this girl, but this was a road I definitely wasn't ready to go down.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to disappoint you or lead you on."
"You didn't. I pushed things forward. It was my decision. I respect yours."
"OK. Thanks for understanding. Sorry again."
"Don't be. Seriously. I'm enjoying our time together."
And it was true. Normally I'm looking for new conquests. The one hitter quitter as my buddies sometimes jokingly referred to me. No emotion. Just a release. Then I'm gone. Don't get me wrong. She's getting hers. It's just after I've gotten her, what else is there to do? Conquer new lands. It's in a man's DNA.
This time it's different. She is different. She has a calmness. A thoughtfulness. And of course she's hot as hell.
Those barbie dolls are too easy. No chase, and no substance. Sure, my buddies think they're hot, but to be honest I'm embarrassed to be seen with them. What does that say about me? The company you keep is a direct reflection of yourself. If I'm with them what does that say about me? Not the message I want to convey. And not convey to other people. Who cares about them. The message I convey to myself. I'm settling for easy sex. Everyone seems to find them hot. Society, advertising, guys of course, even other girls. Me, not so much. Actually not at all. I don't want some toy. I want a real girl. One who thinks. One with curves. One who doesn't order a salad when she wants a steak. One who's feminine, but not all up in your face with her body. A simple girl. But with class. If simplicity is the ultimate form of sophistication then this girl is a Ducati Monster 1100 Evo. It looks simple, but boy is it anything but. Pure sophistication, power, and sex appeal.
"There are some horse properties further up. We can go take a look."
"That sounds great."
We spent the rest of the afternoon in the mountains feeding horses, walking, and just talking. Even listening. I can't remember the last time I met a girl around my age with anythin
g interesting to say. I actually enjoyed listening to her.
She even rode one of the horses for about 15 minutes. First time she had ever been on a horse. She wasn't going to ride, but the farm had one white horse. It walked right over to her. A white horse. A girl. How could she say no? It was a match made in any little girl's dream.