by J. S. Scott
“Let’s call a truce,” I said breathlessly. “We come from two different worlds. We’ll never understand each other.”
I needed to get out of his hold. I was starting to get drunk on his masculine scent, and mesmerized by his ferocious gaze. He was big, powerful, and I had to tilt my head to look at his face.
He moved back slightly, only to place a hand on each side of my face gently before he said hoarsely, “I think we can communicate perfectly.”
I opened my mouth to ask him to release me, but he was too stealthy and quick, his head lowering to capture my mouth in a demanding encounter that left me helpless and stunned.
He tilted my head, obtaining better access to my mouth, his tongue easily gaining entrance and commanding more.
More. More. More.
My heart stuttered as I wrapped my arms around his neck, my body coming alive as he pressed closer, pushed deeper, the kiss hot and all-consuming. I felt myself starting to drown in the scent of him, the taste of him, wanting to get closer, feel him invade my senses even deeper.
He wrenched his mouth away, cursing. “Fuck! I shouldn’t have done that.”
Trace sounded angrier with himself than he was with me. He rested his forehead on my shoulder, his breathing ragged. My heart was still racing as I realized that he had one hand on my ass, pressing my core against him, and his other arm around my back.
He didn’t move to release me, and I didn’t try to get away. I savored the feel of him, my body pressed so tightly against his larger form. Drawing a breath, I let his essence flow over me like a soothing balm to my soul.
Finally, I asked, “Why did you do that?”
“Because I couldn’t control myself. Dammit!” He drew back and released his grip. “I don’t lose control. Ever.”
He sounded irritated and underneath that anger, slightly confused.
I’d never been the object of any man’s lust, and it was slightly heady. Still, I couldn’t figure out what he saw in me. Trace probably had most of the female population at his disposal. Why would he waste time on me when he could be nailing a supermodel?
“Sex isn’t part of this deal,” I told him shakily, part of me wishing that it was. But it would be wrong for so many reasons. Like it or not, this had to stay business only for me. Anything more could be a disaster, and I’d had enough of broken dreams and shattered hopes.
Running a frustrated hand through his hair, he answered, “I know that. I’m not looking for a damn prostitute.”
I recoiled like he’d physically struck me. “I’ve never done…that.”
His fierce gaze locked with mine, and his eyes devoured me.
“I know you haven’t.” Trace’s voice was clipped and slightly pained. “I’m not about to hire a hooker to be my fiancée. No matter how well she played the part, my brothers would figure out the truth. Like I said, I need someone convincing.”
“I have a part to play, but I’m not sleeping with you.” Oh, but I wanted to. If that was a little taste of Trace, I wanted the feast. Unfortunately, I couldn’t gorge. Not with him.
A cocky smirk formed on his lips. “Okay. But I’ll still try to make you want me. I guarantee it.”
I already wanted him. It was physically impossible for my body not to respond to a man like him.
I propped my hands on my hips. “Why?”
“Because I want you, Eva. I want my cock to be buried so deep inside you that you can’t remember your own name, and you beg me to make you come.” His tone was matter-of-fact, but his eyes were still burning green fire.
I slammed my eyes closed, not wanting to visualize that scenario. The effort was unsuccessful. “Not happening.” I opened my eyes again.
“We’ll see.” Trace was still smiling, his expression decidedly smug.
“Besa mi culo.” The insult telling him to kiss my ass in Spanish slipped from my lips before I could stop it.
“Bare it, and I’ll kiss more than just your gorgeous ass,” he promised dangerously.
Damn! I couldn’t even insult him in Spanish because he’d understand every word.
Remembering his powerful grip on my ass, I flushed as my core clenched hard, as though my body was begging me to let him take me. He’d been hard, his cock straining against the confines of his pristine suit pants.
“Not happening.” I tried to sound firm, but to my ears, I was even less convincing than the last time I’d said those same words. Truth was, I wasn’t sure what I’d do if he really pushed my boundaries.
Luckily, I didn’t have to find out.
He put my backpack over his shoulder easily, a burden that had almost made me crumble from the weight.
Trace didn’t say another word as he motioned me out the door of my apartment.
“Do you have another key?” He glanced at me questioningly.
Digging into the zipper pocket of the backpack, I removed the spare key and locked the apartment door, and then put it in the back pocket of my jeans.
“I’ll have fun retrieving that so I can deal with your landlord,” Trace said with a smile in his voice.
Instantly, I reached into my pocket again, grabbed the key, and promptly shoved it under the door. “No, you won’t.” I smiled at him smugly.
He shrugged. “That won’t stop me. But it does kill all the fun.”
Trace’s gaze was teasing, and I found it hard to resist a smiling Trace. I had a feeling it was something he didn’t do often. “If you do, I’ll quit.”
“No, you won’t.” The certainty in his voice was annoying.
Nope. I probably wouldn’t. Now that my apartment was gone, I needed a job to survive. My nose simply tilted up and I rolled my eyes at him. I stomped off to make my way back down the decrepit staircase.
He was right behind me. “Your Latina temper is pretty hot.” His voice was gruff.
Shoving my nose further into the air, I huffed. “You haven’t seen just how hot I can burn.” I didn’t lose my temper often. I couldn’t afford to give it free reign whenever I wanted. But when I was really angry, I could fly off the handle with a lot more of a temper than he’d just seen.
I should have expected his retort; I should have known he’d pick up on the chance to make my defiant comment sexual. My words were going to have to be more closely monitored around him.
“I can’t wait,” he answered smoothly.
Since I had no answer, I hurried down the stairs, the sound of Trace’s wicked laughter following me.
Bastard!
Part of me enjoyed his teasing, the sexual tension that flowed heavily between us. But I couldn’t let it continue. I knew something he didn’t, something that would instantly stop this budding part of our relationship that neither one of us could seem to control.
He has a right to know.
I swung around at the bottom of the stairs, almost colliding with Trace as he reached the ground floor.
“We can’t do this.” My voice was adamant and sad.
“I’m attracted to you, Eva,” he answered candidly.
“You shouldn’t be.”
“Why not? You’re an attractive woman.”
I took a deep breath, unable to meet his eyes. I looked at the dirty wall with peeling white paint behind him. “I came to see you today for a favor. I was desperate. You don’t know me, but I know of you. My mother left me to marry your father. Even though I never saw her again and we’ve never met, we’re still related by marriage. Technically, you’re my stepbrother.”
Chapter Three
Trace
I should have known from the moment I laid eyes on her that Eva Morales was trouble. No, correction…actually, her name was Evangelina Guadalupe Morales, something I’d learned from the papers I’d signed for her landlord.
She’d been pretty pissed when she’d found out I’d settled her rent, and as far as I knew, she was still angry. I was sitting in my home office doing some research after she had stormed off in the general direction of her bedroom about an hour earl
ier, her nose in the air and nearly palpable steam emanating from her body.
I’ve already admitted to myself that I enjoyed making her angry just to watch her heated reactions. But it played hell with my cock. Maybe it was sick and twisted, but the hotter she got, the more I wanted to subdue her, use that passion she had in a much better, more satisfying way for both of us.
Did I give a shit if she was angry?
No.
I’d become accustomed to getting what I wanted, and I had needed to take care of her for some unknown reason, and it wasn’t because of some asinine attachment we had because her mother had supposedly married my father. Someone sure as hell needed to help manage Eva’s life, and I’d already decided that person was going to be me. My desire to make her safe and happy was far from brotherly; it was a primitive, far more intimate, gut-wrenching need, one I didn’t quite understand myself.
For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what attracted me to her, but my cock had been stiff since the moment I caught my first glimpse of her, and it had stayed that way. She’d put on a brave front, but I had still been able to spot her discomfort yesterday in my office, sense her vulnerability. The desire to strip her naked and nail her up against a wall, on my desk, or any other solid surface had hit me almost immediately. But as badly as I had wanted to fuck her, every instinct I had insisted that I also…keep her safe.
Those two primal desires were waging war inside me, and even I wasn’t sure which one was going to win.
The fact that she was technically my stepsister hadn’t dulled my desire to fuck her until she screamed my name in climax at all. Maybe that showed I was a total prick, but I didn’t care.
We weren’t even remotely blood related, and I hadn’t known that my stepmother had borne a daughter. But then, how much had any of us known about Karen? She had died almost immediately, along with my father, after their marriage. The private jet carrying my brother, Dane, my father, and Dad’s new wife - Eva’s mother - had crashed. Dane, my youngest sibling, had been the only survivor.
Dane had barely come through the experience alive, and my concern for him was the only reason I had to, needed to, have a woman I was committed to by Christmas. My youngest brother was still scarred, inside and out, from his near-fatal crash, and there wasn’t much I wouldn’t do to keep him from going over the edge.
The sound of a ringing phone on the desk jarred me from thoughts, my eyes flying to the caller ID.
Sebastian.
The bastard hadn’t called me in over a month, probably avoiding the lecture he knew he’d get if he phoned. My middle brother was getting wild, hanging out with a bunch of losers. I’d tried to give him time to find his own direction after the accident that had killed our father, but even though he was now a few years out of college, it appeared he had no moral compass.
I snatched up the ringing phone impatiently. “Where in the fuck have you been?”
“Well, hell, I miss you, too, bro,” Sebastian answered sarcastically.
Dammit! I could tell he was either drunk or stoned, beyond the point where I could even talk to him. “Working. Something you don’t seem inclined to do.” My voice was clipped and angry.
I was pissed off, and I was done making excuses for Sebastian. He needed to grow the fuck up.
“Why should I when I have you to be the perfect, responsible brother who has everything under control? You’re a fucking god, bro. No need to have two of them in the family.” Sebastian’s voice was slightly slurred and filled with antagonistic sarcasm.
Sebastian wasn’t always this way, but the instances where he seemed inclined to irritate me were becoming more and more frequent. “When are you flying in for the holidays? Dane is going to be here the week before Christmas.” I didn’t feel like engaging with him in a verbal battle, not when he was like this. It was pointless.
My brother seemed to sober up slightly. “I’ll get there around the same time. I haven’t seen Dane for a while.”
Releasing the tight fist I was clenching on the desk, I remembered that at one time the three of us had been pretty tight. After the accident, things had never been quite the same. Dane was profoundly different, Sebastian had grown away from everybody in the family, and I had become a major prick because I had to run my father’s business, something I hadn’t been prepared for at such a young age.
“Are you bringing anyone?” I needed to figure out sleeping arrangements, but I was mostly curious as to whether Sebastian was seriously involved with a female. Considering the crowd he was running with right now, I was hoping he wasn’t.
“Nope. I’m flying solo.” Sebastian paused for a moment before asking, “You? Have you found a woman who will put up with your cranky ass for more than an hour?”
Not so long ago, I would have told Sebastian everything. Now, I didn’t trust him. He ran hot and cold these days, and the last thing I needed was for Dane to find out the truth. “As a matter of fact, I have. Congratulate me. I’m recently engaged.”
I waited as the line was silent, knowing Sebastian was still connected, but wasn’t talking.
Finally, he answered. “You got engaged? And you didn’t say anything? I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone.”
Fuck! Now I was feeling guilty because there was an underlying hurt in my brother’s voice. It made me feel like a complete asshole, but there was more at stake than just Sebastian’s feelings.
I can’t tell him. He’s too unpredictable.
“Whirlwind relationship. You’ll like her,” I told him awkwardly, knowing I was a shitty liar when it came to fabrications with my brothers. Most people didn’t know the me who lay beneath my professional demeanor. Hell, I barely knew myself anymore.
“What’s she like? Where did you meet her? Do I know her?” Sebastian was quickly sobering up.
“Nice. No. And no, you don’t know her.” I answered his questions rapidly, hoping he’d let the subject go.
“What’s her name?” Sebastian persisted.
“Eva.” I decided to keep it simple. He’d be meeting her soon enough, and I was uncomfortable talking about her.
Did it matter if Eva was technically their stepsister? Should they know the truth? I didn’t see why they should. They’d never known, and they’d never met her. She wasn’t blood, so there wasn’t much harm in keeping our flimsy ties a secret. Hell, I hadn’t even completely verified her claim yet, but I was already working on that. I did know that even when I did have proof that she was really our stepsister, I wouldn’t tell them. Dane could never know the truth.
“Do you love her?” Sebastian sounded puzzled.
Jesus Christ! I hated lying to him, even though he’d been a fucking jerk for a while now. “Yes.” The word slipped from my mouth easily, the lie complete by uttering one single word.
“Damn. She must be hot.”
“She’s smart, kind, and honest.” I said those words without even thinking, knowing them to be the truth. Eva was everything many women in our circles were not. Maybe that was why I had this unholy instinct to fuck her and protect her at the same time.
“I notice you didn’t say she was hot,” Sebastian mumbled.
“Touch her and I swear I’ll put you in the hospital,” I growled, unable to stop visions of Sebastian acting inappropriately with Eva.
“Holy shit, bro. I think you really are in love. And she really must be beautiful. I might be a dick, but you know I’d never touch another man’s woman, especially my brother’s.” There was some anger in Sebastian’s voice.
Yeah, I knew that. Sebastian had good reason to be testy about the subject. “I know.” But when you’re intoxicated, you’re a different person from the brother I knew and trusted. I didn’t add those thoughts to our conversation.
“Is Dane bringing Britney?”
I recoiled at the mention of her name, not because she meant a damn thing to me anymore, but because Dane was, in fact, bringing the woman I’d once cared about. Neither of my brothers knew I’d been
intimate with Britney—in the biblical sense, or why she was now pretending she was madly in love with Dane. I knew she didn’t love my brother because she wasn’t capable of love. Britney was a user, a manipulator.
“He’s bringing her,” I replied flatly.
“Now there’s one hot woman,” Sebastian whistled appreciatively.
Britney was beautiful, but as attractive as a poisonous snake to me now. “On the surface, perhaps she is.”
“Are you jealous?” Sebastian’s voice was more quizzical than teasing.
“No. But I don’t trust that she’s with Dane for the right reasons.” I wanted Sebastian to see the truth for himself since I couldn’t tell him.
“You think she’s jerking his chain? That she only cares about his money?” Sebastian’s voice became clearer, and slightly hesitant.
“I guess we’ll figure that out eventually.” I was noncommittal because I needed to be. “But I don’t trust her.”
“You know something I don’t, Trace?”
“No. It’s just instinct,” I lied.
“The last thing Dane needs is more pain,” Sebastian grumbled. “But it makes sense. Dane is scarred, and it’s going to take a good woman to look beyond that to see who he really is.”
I wished Sebastian hadn’t been telling the truth, but he was. And Dane needed a far better woman than blood-sucking Britney. “We’ll see what happens.” My youngest brother was a far better man than either me or Sebastian. Kinder, gentler, at least he had been in the past.
My plan was to get Britney out of Dane’s life without causing him any heartache, but I wasn’t certain that was possible.
“I gotta go, bro. I ducked out of a party, but there’s a good whiskey calling my name.”
Dammit! I’d do anything to keep Sebastian from drinking himself into oblivion, and a sense of helplessness invaded my gut because of the physical and emotional distance between us. I didn’t want him driving, didn’t want him to get himself killed. Yeah, he was an adult and a dick most of the time, but he was still my brother. “Sebastian, you don’t have to do this. Where are you?”