Taking His Rage (Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance)

by Gwen Allen

  There must be so many things in that house that carry the stamp of his past, things his mom touched, things she loved or hated. It's like the house has been booby trapped with Vince's childhood memories, and they are just waiting to rip open old wounds. It doesn't seem to matter if the memories are good or bad. Every memory of his mother hurts him, and it hurts my heart to see him like that.

  I have so many happy memories of my dad, but all Vince seems to remember is the mother who died so tragically, not the mother who lived and who must have loved him. I don't want that for Vince. I don't want him to remember his mother only as a troubled woman who killed herself.

  She must have been happy once and enjoyed life. She was more than the way she died. But it's not my place to tell him how to feel, not that he would ever listen to me. The way he sees it, I'm part of the problem. How could I ever reach him?

  When I get to the library, I get busy. For a while all I see are words on the page or on the screen of my laptop. But when I stop to take a break, stretch my legs and get a drink from the vending machine, I spot Charlene and wave to her.

  "Hey, Julie," she says.

  I see her around campus all the time and we've hit it off. Now she comes over and leans on the vending machine while I get my shot of caffeine in the form of a diet soda. She tells me about the paper she's working on, and I notice her short, blond hair and big eyes. She has a perfect body too. I bed Vince would go for her in a minute.

  I hate knowing that any other girl could take my place, but he is the only one I can think of, the only one I want. I don't want any other girl to touch Vince. At the thought of him with any other woman, my blood boils. That's crazy. Why am I being possessive of a guy who doesn't even care about me?

  While I'm questioning my own sanity, I miss what Charlene just asked me. "Sorry, what did you say?"

  "Lance. I know, but don't judge him on his name. It's not his fault. He didn't pick it," she says but I'm not sure what she's talking about. "So it would be me and Rob and you and Lance. Totally casual, see how you hit it off. No pressure."

  "A double date?" I say as I realize what she's asking me. "I'm not really looking for a guy right now. With work and school, you know."

  As I make vague excuses, Charlene narrows her eyes at me. "You already have your eye on someone, don't you?" she says with a knowing smile and a nod, like she's sure she's right.

  "No. No, I don't." I'm denying it like it's a crime, and she only gets more suspicious.

  "Aha. You didn't even ask to see what Lance looks like. I have some pics on my phone from Brady's party. But I guess I can't entice you," she says, talking like I'm already taken.

  "It's not like that, really," I assure her and then excuse myself to get back to my research.

  I can't admit the truth to myself, much less to anyone else. I hate that I'm spending my days waiting for Vince. And then at night, thoughts of him won't let me rest. When I fall asleep, he waits for me in my dreams. Every minute, I'm on pins and needles, wondering when I'll see Vince again.

  It was true what I told Charlene about being busy. I have enough to deal with at the café and at school, but I don't feel right when I'm away from Vince. I need him to feel whole, and this need, this terrible feeling, only seems to be getting worse. I know this isn't a real relationship. The only feelings he has for me are hate and contempt. Then why am I always yearning for him? Even if I can't say no to him, I should know better than to let him into my heart.

  Chapter 13

  ~

  Julie

  It's late into the night. I'm in bed, too hot though I've kicked the sheet off me. The moon is too bright, not letting me sleep. Of course it's not the moonlight. It's Vince. His gorgeous blue eyes staring me down. The heat of his body burning through me. The taste of him. The hardness of his cock inside me, filling me up. And then I think of the soft press of his lips on mine, and that's just maddening, a special kind of torture.

  I crave him constantly. At work and at school, I'm distracted. My nights are restless. The memory of his rough touch is branded into my body, keeping me awake. I'm losing sleep because of him. I'm tossing and turning with the thought of him inside me and on top of me.

  I'm the biggest fool in the world pining for man who despises me and only wants to use me. I'm hopeless, but I can't stop thinking about what it would be like to sleep with Vince all night long. Then he could take me whenever he wanted—in the middle of the night or even while I'm still asleep, so that I wake up with him already inside me.

  My eyes still closed, I arch my back off the bed. I'm only getting more worked up. To help cool me off, I get up and open the window, letting in the breeze. The marble floor is cool under my feet. With the moon behind it, the tree right outside my window casts the shadows of its heart shaped leaves on the wall opposite.

  I stay at the window and the scent of the rose garden reaches me from below. And now my conversation with Vince rolls through my mind. Because of it, I can see him more clearly, but that doesn't help to quiet the restless cravings of my body.

  Since I'm not getting any sleep anyway, I decide to go downstairs for a drink of water. I go down the staircase, but go right past the kitchen and head straight outside. Now I'm under my bedroom window in my bare feet. I didn't mean to step outside, but I saw the rose garden in the moonlight through a glass door, and it enticed me.

  The breeze carries the scents of the garden as it rushes through my hair still tangled from sleep. The ground is soft under my feet. Night air is sweet and refreshing. Somewhere off to my right there is music playing. Above me the night sky is full of stars. The greens of the garden have turned almost black. Many of the flowers have closed for the night but others shine like jewels.

  After hearing about Vince's mother, I see the wild rose garden differently now. But not the way Vince sees it. I don't see only the thorns. The flowers are a touch of brightness in the dark and their fragrance is wonderful as it fills the cool, night air. Vince's mother might have cut her life too short, but she left something beautiful behind. I just wish her son could see some of the good things she left to him and not only the pain.

  Just then I hear something behind me and jump. Turning to look over my shoulder, I see Vince standing there. For a second, I'm not sure if he's real or if I dreamed him up. Locked on me, his eyes are so blue in the moonlit night. He has to be a dream.

  Startled, I breathe hard for a while. He looks amused as he watches me try to get myself under control. His eyes move from my eyes down to my lips then over my neck to my heaving chest. His inspection only makes me breathe harder.

  I glare at him but his cold gaze stays riveted to my breasts. I'm wearing only a white tank top and pink pajama bottoms. I wish I had covered up better before I came down, but no matter what I wear, he always makes me feel naked. I could wear a parka and still feel his gaze roaming my bare skin.

  "Couldn't sleep?" he says. "Was something keeping you awake?"

  I swear he knows it was him, but I still deny it. "Nothing was keeping me awake. I just needed some fresh air," I answer too quickly, making him smirk. He does know he was the one keeping me awake, and he's enjoying it.

  "Why do I hear music?" I ask as the melody drifts over faintly and Vince comes a few steps closer.

  "A party at the neighbors. Want to go?" Vince asks offhandedly, like I'm supposed to scurry over there barefoot and in my pajamas.

  I ignore his question. "It doesn't sound like party music, but I can picture them slow dancing to this." As snatches of the melody reach my ears, I sway a little but then catch myself, feel silly and stop.

  "The party is probably winding down by now," he says as he looks in that direction then back at me. "Nothing stopping you from joining them if you want."

  I think he means that I could just go over there, but he has something else in mind. Vince steps up to me and puts his arms out like we should dance. I'm stunned. That can't be what he means.

  "Or maybe you don't know how to dance," he says d
isdainfully. "Do I have to teach you everything?"

  He is so arrogant. I know how to dance, pretty much. But dancing with Vince is a whole different experience. It's like playing with fire and expecting not to get burned.

  When I don't move, he comes to me, puts his hands on my hips and pulls me closer to him roughly. I breathe in then feel his hands go from my hips to my shoulders. From there, his hands skim down my bare arms. He takes hold of my hands and places one on his shoulder. Cradling my other hand in his, he takes a step, guiding me backwards. He moves to the soft music and I follow. We're dancing.

  It's so unreal. Music drifts over to us on the wind. The air is filled with the scent of roses. It's strange and it's wonderful to dance with him slowly in the moonlight with my bare feet in the cool grass.

  Then the music fades. As his arms encircle me, Vince's hold on me is still light. The caress of his fingertips along my back is like the night breeze kissing my skin. His eyes bore into me and his hands move to my sides. He grips my waist then he spins me around.

  I gasp. My back is to him now and his hands are sliding forward so that his strong arms hold me tight and I'm pressed up hard against his chest. We're still swaying but we're not dancing any more. His touch is more insistent now.

  His hands trail up skimming over my chest then my throat until he is cupping my chin and tracing my lower lip with his thumb. My lips part as his fingertips glide over them. I place small kisses on his fingertips then feel them follow a path over my collarbone.

  My heartbeat and my breathing seem too fast and loud in the quiet of the night. Vince's fingers move to my chest and trace the outlines of my nipples under my tank top. I shiver against him and my eyes fall closed.

  His lips at my earlobe tease me as his strong hands start to massage my breasts. Then only one of his hands is mauling me while his other arm is down over my rib cage, holding me in place as he grinds into me from behind and growls my name.

  Trapped between his powerful chest and his arms like steel, I moan helplessly. He then lightens his touch, and I lean back against him, boneless, a shivering mess already. Suddenly he grabs my arm and starts marching me away from the rose garden and under some trees.

  When I resist, he turns me to face him. "Do you want me to strip you right here?" he asks, his eyes glowing with reflected moonlight.

  "What?" I say stupidly.

  He points up at the dark windows of the house. "Anyone might look out and see you bare-assed. If you want that, we can stay right here."

  Without waiting for my answer, he drags me toward the wooded part of the garden. This time I let him. Better this then being seen. He has already tested my resistance and proved that I don't have any. When we're out of sight, he presses me up against a tree and I gasp.

  His legs are on either side of mine, trapping me as he leans into me. Once again I feel the hardness of his cock, and anticipation makes me shudder. My back against the rough bark of the tree, pinned between his rock hard thighs, I feel helpless. As I breathe hard, I can see my breasts rise toward him. That's not the worst of it. I'm getting wet, starting to throb for him.

  From my waist his hands move up and slide under my shirt to cup my breasts firmly like he owns them. He angles his head toward me until our lips are close but not touching. The movement is slow, deliberate, designed to torture me.

  With his hands on my breasts, taking ownership of me, I'm dying to feel his lips on mine. He pinches my nipples and only then sets his lips on mine tenderly. Now he's caressing me gently, only to get rough again, teasing me, driving me crazy.

  He stops fondling me suddenly, and I moan into his kiss, unhappy at the loss of contact. I miss the rough touch as much as the gentle caress. When he stops kissing me, I drop my head back against the tree trunk and groan in disappointment.

  He smiles confidently as he looks down at me. Using just his fingertips, he pulls down the straps of the tank top I wear to sleep. As he slides the straps off my shoulders, he moves slowly and eyes me like he's daring me to stop him.

  I only start to breathe harder, my breasts rising higher like I'm offering them to him. His eyes never leave mine even as he pushes my top down and exposes my heaving breasts to the cool night air. But I can't take it. My eyes close as I moan.

  "Eyes open," Vince orders me. "I want your eyes on me."

  I'm glaring at him now, but my look melts as he lowers my top down to my waist. He then leans down and lets his tongue, his lips and his teeth play over my breasts. My back arching, I feel the slickness of his tongue, the feathery softness of his lips and they are worse than any bite. With my hands mussing his hair, I'm shivering, thoroughly tortured, moaning his name.

  I whimper when he raises his head from my chest. His blue eyes blaze in the moonlight as he stares me down. With my head thrown back, I breathe, "Please," and in the next instant, his mouth is on my throat.

  "Don't worry. You'll get yours," Vince growls against my neck. I feel his teeth on my shoulder then his kiss. Grinding against me, he makes me throb as his hard cock digs into me.

  My breasts are smashed against his chest. I feel the fabric of his t-shirt, not skin. But as soon as Vince pulls back, I'm on him, pulling his t-shirt off. He fights me at first, but I'm damned determined.

  "I either take it off or I rip it," I tell him, gripping the dark blue fabric in my fists. Suddenly I realize that sounds like something Vince would say. He has been a terrible influence on me.

  It works, and he lets me take off his t-shirt. Now my hands are on his magnificent chest and sliding over the ripples of his abs. He's amazing, but he isn't patient. He doesn't indulge me for long.

  As he kisses me hard, he takes hold of the waistband of my pajama bottoms. He pulls them down and I squirm. Is he going to fuck me? He can't. Not out here. But decency is nothing to him.

  When my pajamas drop to the ground, he tells me, "Kick them away."

  I do it. I need him too much not to obey. But what now?

  As I stare at him, Vince takes hold of my arms and raises them up. He takes my top off too, sliding it over my head and discarding it. He keeps my arms up as I become painfully aware that I'm completely naked on the grounds of his father's house.

  I try to put my arms over my chest, but Vince doesn't let me. Taking hold of my wrists, he pins them high above my head, stretching me out. I moan at the sensation and Vince grins at me. Unable to control the quivering of my entire body, I wait for him to put his hands on me.

  He doesn't. He only lets his gaze slide up and down my naked body. The look he gives me spells it all out—he'll take me wherever and however he wants. He can do anything he wants because he's strong and because I can't resist him.

  To prove it, he shoves himself between my legs spreading my thighs with his body. Now he's flush against me, making me feel the hardness of his cock through his jeans. I moan and he starts kissing me. His hands are pinning my wrists up, his tongue is thrusting into my mouth.

  When he lets go, I whimper and shake all over as I watch him unzip his fly. Then a condom wrapper is ripped between his teeth and he rolls on the condom. I gulp and feel an intense throbbing between my legs.

  Vince is pushing my legs further apart. His powerful hands grab my ass and lift me easily, pressing me against him. As I wrap my thighs around him, he thrusts inside me. It's slow and unrelenting, making me quiver and moan until he's buried so deep.

  As he rocks into me, I can tell just how deep inside me he is. All I can feel is him. When he pulls back, I hang on for the next thrust, dying for it. I grab onto his shoulders and wrap my arms around his neck. I can feel his body surging into mine, and there is something so right when his cock is inside me.

  Through each thrust, Vince holds me up off the ground, his arms like steel. The pounding is relentlessly slow and hard. As the rhythm of his thrusts speeds up, his eyes are locked on mine, watching me lose it under his ruthless hammering. With each obscene slap of his body against mine, I moan louder until Vince shuts me up with a kiss. A
t this moment, I don't care who hears or sees. I want everyone to know I'm his.

  Pleasure is building inside me, driving me wild. My senses spiral out of control and then I'm coming. I can't scream with Vince's mouth on mine. Then Vince is coming and my body shakes with another violent orgasm.

  Wringing the last of the pleasure from my exhausted body, Vince kisses me deep, not letting me breathe. He pulls back slowly so he can feel my yearning and how much I still want him even if I've just been thoroughly satisfied.

  Sucking on my lower lip, he makes me shudder just before he lets me go to stand on shaky legs. I hang onto him and pant. If he wasn't there, I'd fall over.

  Coming back to my senses, I realize I'm naked. Just a minute ago I was thinking that I didn't care who heard or saw me with Vince. What an idiot. I definitely care. I care a lot. I can barely face myself much less anyone else.

  ~

  Vince

  Julie is coming back to herself and frantic to get back into her clothes. Her hands are shaking so I help her get her things back on. I don't know why I bother. I should just leave her there, but I always have so much trouble walking away from her.

  On our way back to the house, she refuses to look at me until I stop her and lift her chin up with my fingertips. Her face turns up, her cheeks still flushed. The look in her eyes is defiant at first then soft.

  As she looks up at me, her hazel eyes are bright and I can see that she's suppressing a smile. For a fake, she's not good at hiding how she feels. Looking like that, she's impossible to resist. I have to kiss her. I don't know why.

  I just had her. I don't need her any more. I fucked her long and hard, and it's still not enough. As her arms wrap around me, I don't want to let go. It's probably some animal comfort, like wanting to pet a kitten.

  While I keep her snug in my arms, a sudden gust of wind makes her hair fly around her face. A strand of hair strays over her eyes, and I brush it away. She tries not to smile at the gesture and I look away.