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Wicked Stepbrother (Book Two)

Page 12

by Lila Price

Caeli tried to insist that it was all too much, but I refused to listen.

  We went up front and I paid for everything in cash—it came to over four hundred dollars.

  I still had close to a grand on me, and I knew more fights would be booked soon, especially when the video got out of today’s action. I’d planted that guy with one shot to the jaw, a perfectly timed punch that had felt like swinging a baseball bat and knocking one out of the park.

  Easy peasy.

  We walked out carrying bags full of clothes, and I tossed them in back of the truck with the grocery bags, and then we got into the cab and headed back to my apartment.

  I insisted on carrying all of the bags inside myself. It took me all of three trips, and I told Caeli to go shower and change into one of her new outfits.

  Meanwhile, I put the groceries away.

  My apartment wasn’t too bad, nothing to be ashamed of. When I’d first come home from overseas, I’d had a nice bit of money built up from when I was in Afghanistan.

  That initial cushion of money was gone, but it had allowed me to travel and finally rent a decent apartment in a nice area of town here. I’d furnished it well, complete with leather couches, big flat screen in the living room, dining room table and chairs, a great king-sized bed.

  While Caeli was in the shower, I put some olive oil in a pan, seasoned those thin steaks and then laid them flat in the pan where they immediately seared, popping and bubbling, the smell tantalizing.

  I made some rice in a pot and then covered it.

  Then I threw a bag of broccoli in the microwave and cooked it.

  Before long, the thin steaks were ready, I moved them to two plates, added the rice and broccoli and placed them on the dining room table just as Caeli emerged from her shower, fresh and clean, her wide eyes taking in the scene in front of her.

  She’d changed into jean capris and a light shirt, her wet hair pulled back.

  “Dinner is served,” I said, gesturing to the steaming food.

  Caeli looked at me, smiled hesitantly. “I feel like such a leech right now.”

  “Chill,” I told her. “Sit and eat.”

  I could tell nobody had ever taken care of her—not really. Probably not a single day in her life. It made me angry when I thought of her slaving away at that shitty burger joint, the way those people treated her—the way her father treated her.

  If she was with me, they’d never treat her like that again. Not ever.

  Caeli sat down, picked up her fork and dug into the rice.

  I sat down and watched her momentarily.

  “You’re making me nervous,” she said, looking up at me.

  “There’s nothing to be nervous about,” I replied, picking up my knife and fork.

  She started to eat, slowly at first, and then ravenous. “Oh my God, this is so good, Zack.”

  I smiled when she said my name. And I got hard all over again.

  Even with no makeup on, she was beautiful and sexy and all I could do was envision myself stripping her down again, fucking that tight wet pussy like I had the night before.

  The steak was good. “The key is not to flip the meat too much,” I explained, gesturing with my fork. “You just season it very simply, then lay it in the pan and don’t touch it except to flip it once. Boom. Seals in the juices, coats it.”

  She nodded, taking a napkin and wiping the juice from her lips as if to prove my point. “Who taught you how to cook?” she asked.

  I pictured my Gran and started to say the answer, but then I remembered how I’d left Gran back home without so much as a word. Left her along with the rest of them.

  My stomach felt suddenly sour. “It doesn’t matter,” I mumbled.

  Caeli nodded as if that answer made complete sense. She continued eating and then turned and looked at me with those big, soft eyes of hers. “I shouldn’t have given you such a hard time about fighting. The truth is, I wish I had the guts to do what you do.”

  “And what is it you think I do exactly?”

  “You just do whatever you want to do, and you don’t apologize for it.” She went back to eating.

  “Whatever you think I am,” I said, “nothing’s ever that simple.”

  She picked at her broccoli. “What we did last night…” she said.

  “Yeah?”

  “It was nice. It was fun. But I hope you don’t expect more of that as some sort of repayment for you letting me crash with you.”

  I sat back in my chair and stared at her, laughing now. “You think I’m expecting sex in exchange for room and board?”

  “I don’t even know you. What we did last night—that’s not normal for me. I don’t just do that.”

  I grabbed my glass of water and took a long sip. “You don’t owe me or anyone else a damn thing, Caeli. Not a damn thing.” And then I got up and carried my plate to the kitchen, scraped the dregs into the trash and put the plate and silverware in the sink. While I was pouring some dish soap and water onto the dirty plates and utensils, she came into the kitchen behind me.

  “Guess I’m done too. It was really good, Zack.”

  “Cool,” I said, turning and reaching back to take her plate from her. Then I added it to the sink. “You can feel free to have the run of the place,” I said.

  “I feel like maybe I should go now,” she replied.

  I didn’t turn around to look at her. “Oh?”

  “Yeah, it’s just really awkward. I mean, what is this? I’m not your girlfriend, and you don’t seem exactly in the market to acquire one. If I’m wrong, please tell me.”

  I grabbed a sponge. “I didn’t say anything.”

  “Well, if this is just some sort of charity on your part, I don’t need it. And after what happened between us last night, neither of us could claim that we’re just friends.”

  “So?” I replied, picking up a fork and scrubbing at it.

  “So, I’m not comfortable with this sort of thing. Maybe you’re used to it, but I’m not. And I think I’m going to leave now.”

  I braced my hands on the edge of the counter momentarily.

  You should let her go.

  She knows that you’re fucking bad news, and you agree with her. Time to give it up, soldier, and move on before you do serious damage.

  She’s a sweet girl who deserves a hell of a lot better than anything you can give her.

  “You don’t want to leave right now,” I said, finally turning around and watching her.

  She was anxiously biting her thumbnail, which I found insanely cute and sexy.

  “I don’t?” she asked, brushing at a strand of loose hair that fell across her forehead.

  “No, you don’t,” I replied, leaning back against the counter now.

  “How do you know what I want?”

  “You came here with me, that’s how. You could’ve stayed at your apartment but you didn’t want to. You wanted to come with me, Caeli.”

  “I was confused.”

  “You’re still confused,” I replied, moving away from the sink and stepping towards her.

  Her cheeks turned a shade of pink as I approached, and her eyes widened. “I’m not…not anymore. You’re so strange,” she said, “and I don’t know if I can trust you.”

  “You can’t,” I said, and now I was so close I could easily touch her.

  Her back was pressed to the wall, and I could see her nipples through her shirt, could see that beautiful alabaster skin and those pouty lips. I’d tasted her before and I needed to taste her again no matter how wrong it was.

  No matter how much it hurt both of us in the long run.

  “What do you want from me?” she whispered.

  “This,” I said, and leaned in, kissing her plush lips, sucking on her responsive tongue.

  She moaned deep in her throat.

  “Admit that you want it too,” I said, breaking away, just barely. Our lips were almost touching. “Admit that you need it as bad as I do.”

  CAELI

  The taste
of him still lingered in my mouth as Zack stared at me, his green eyes so piercing that I felt pinned to the wall by his gaze.

  “I’m not going to admit anything,” I said.

  The truth was, I did need him.

  I was losing control of my life, I was spinning and he was responsible for all of it. But I didn’t seem to be able to stop myself from falling.

  “If you don’t admit the truth, I won’t give you what you want, Caeli.”

  His taunting infuriated me. “Fuck you,” I said, starting to move away.

  “Exactly,” he replied, grabbing my hips so tightly that I couldn’t leave.

  “Let go,” I said, pushing at his muscular chest. I felt my pussy clench and throb as I allowed myself to truly appreciate his closeness.

  “Why should I? You don’t really want me to let go of you,” he grinned.

  “I do, actually,” I lied.

  Immediately his hands released their grip on me, and I was disappointed. I never should have started this game.

  I was going to lose every time.

  “If you really want to leave, then go,” he said. “I’d never try and stop you, Caeli.”

  “And don’t say my name anymore as if you know me,” I replied. I was getting angrier still. Somehow I’d backed myself into a corner, pretending to want to leave when the reality was I wanted to stay and be like we were last night.

  Even though it was wrong, I needed it.

  I needed him to take me all over again, no matter how hurt I’d be when he inevitably went away.

  Men like Zack Wild did not stick around, I knew enough to know that much.

  It was as if my heart was already broken and he hadn’t even rejected me yet—but I knew that he would. And soon. It was written in the deep green of his eyes, the knowledge that he couldn’t be contained, would never stay in one place very long.

  Whatever had happened to him, whatever he’d been through in his life, Zack was going to roam and keep moving, never be tied down to one woman, one job, or one city.

  Why did it hurt so badly? Why did I even care where he went after this?

  Why not just enjoy him for what he was? A hot guy who could make my body feel absolutely incredible.

  “You’re still here,” Zack smiled.

  “No, I’m not,” I told him, and then I began walking towards the door, despite myself.

  I was getting angrier and angrier as I went, wondering just what the point of it all was. He played a game with me, made me feel something and then tormented me for it.

  I reached the door and put my hand on the knob. I turned and looked over my shoulder and he wasn’t even watching me go. He was still in the kitchen.

  “Damn you,” I muttered. Hot rage flashed through me. I stomped back towards the kitchen. “You are a jerk!” I yelled, as I went towards the kitchen. “You treat people like they don’t matter! All you do is fight and fuck. And are they even any different, or are both just sports? Conquests?” I said, as I approached the kitchen.

  And then I stopped and stood there, my mouth open again in shock.

  Zack had taken his shirt off and he was standing there, waiting for me. “I told you,” he said, striding forward. “We both want the same thing,” he said. “Stop pretending we don’t.” And then he was grabbing me, and my hands went to his broad, bare chest, my palms sliding up his skin, feeling his heat, caressing the ink of his tattoos.

  His lips pressed into mine and now my hands slid over his shoulders as his hands grabbed the fabric of my shirt and tore at it, and then he just pulled from the collar, ripping the brand new shirt in half with one motion.

  My breasts were revealed. I hadn’t changed into a bra after my shower.

  And yes, it was intentional.

  All of it.

  Zack had been right and I hadn’t allowed myself to realize that until now, until I groaned, my body bucking into his as his hands grasped my flesh, his fingers closing around my tender nipples, teasing me as I cried out louder still.

  And then his head leaned down and he was sucking on them until I couldn’t take it anymore.

  “I need you,” I called out. “Oh God, I need you so fucking bad.”

  “Then prove it,” he said, pulling up straight and looking intently at me.

  “Prove it?”

  “On your knees. Show me how bad you want it. Show me right now.” He stepped back and waited.

  I got on my knees and stared at his bulging crotch, knowing the enormous monstrous organ that awaited me. But I did want him, and despite the fact that I’d only given oral sex to one young man (who’d had a fairly small member and come almost instantaneously), I knew that I was going to do this.

  Right now, just do it. Don’t overthink it.

  My hands went to his button, unsnapping it, and then the zipper. The sound of it unzipping was final, as if I couldn’t take anything back after this. His boxers shown through the opening of his jeans, and the head of his cock was already poking through, large and forceful.

  Zack waited, legs apart, hands at his sides.

  His eyes watched me carefully, hungrily.

  I reached into his boxers and tugged the monster free, feeling its slick hardness, its smooth strength in my hand, and I stroked it curiously.

  He grunted and I could tell he liked it. So I stroked it again, the root pulsating twice in my palm and then he let out still another grunt.

  “Fuck,” he whispered.

  His excitement gave me confidence, and I leaned forward, my butt resting on my heels, knees digging into the unforgiving floor.

  “I’m going to lick your cock,” I told him, feeling silly for saying it. Announcing it. My cheeks flushed as I leaned forward and stroked my tongue over the top of his prick, tasting saltiness and feeling heat. It was smooth and warm and I liked the way it felt.

  He groaned louder and his legs shuddered.

  I stroked his thickness yet again and again, and now my palm was getting wet, sticky from his excitement. I leaned down, saw glistening saliva and white foam on the head of his dick. I began licking in earnest then, stroking my tongue up and down his shaft, then all around his throbbing, engorged helmet.

  “Oh, Jesus that feels fucking amazing,” he let out.

  I put my mouth over the head and stroked his balls and shaft as his legs shook more forcefully. I could hardly get my mouth around it, but he seemed to like what I was able to do, despite my inability to really take him in.

  And surprisingly, I found that I enjoyed it quite a bit.

  I liked the power of handling him, tasting him, sensing his pleasure and working him into a frenzy.

  My own secret center was vibrating and humming with pleasure, bursts of moisture dripping down my thighs as I sucked his dick.

  God, he was hot. His legs so powerful and strong.

  His belly tensed as I worked my mouth up and down on his cock, his big dick.

  I watched his belly muscles lock and unlock, and then his hands grasped my hair and his hips thrust into me.

  Now he was fucking my mouth, harder and faster.

  I moaned. I was losing control of his body and he was taking control of mine.

  “Damn, I want to come down your throat, but I can’t. Not yet.” He pulled out and stepped away from me.

  “What—“

  His eyes flashed and then he was on top of me, pressing me to the floor and pulling my capris and panties down, tugging them off as my legs spread willingly to allow his hard body to climb on mine.

  The floor was hard on my back, but I didn’t care.

  He strained over me, pulling his pants down further and then his boxers, and he was clean shaven down there, and his balls slapped against my pussy as the shaft of his cock slid up over my clit and his head pushed up almost to my belly.

  I clawed at his chest, he grabbed my hands and pinned them above my head on the floor.

  “You want that dick inside you?” he groaned, his hot breath on my face as I nodded.

  “I
’m so close to coming already,” I said, and it was true. The feel of his shaft pressing against my bare mound, so wet and already turned on.

  I could feel him between my legs, and I was naked and he was naked and his body was so amazing.

  He was controlling me, holding me, and it was wrong and I didn’t care.

  His cock slid into me, fucking my pussy slowly as his strong torso collapsed onto me, and our skin was pressed together like glue.

  He slid deeper, deeper, deeper still, and he fucked me all the way, filled me all the way, and I arched my back and cried out.

  I was climaxing already, my body contracting, my pussy tightening around his cock as he moaned too, and I could tell he was struggling to hold back.

  He swiveled his hips and fucked me slowly as I came, not just once, but again and then another shuddering, mind-blowing climax.

  My eyes fluttered, my lips parted.

  He felt so good.

  “You’re soaking wet,” he told me, and it was true.

  The air smelled of sex.

  His body contorted, all muscle and sinew and sweat, and he controlled me, took me, fucked me until I couldn’t see straight.

  I came again.

  I was nearly sobbing, it felt so good.

  He let go of my hands and I grabbed his back, his ribs, as he expanded his chest and filled me again.

  His hips pumped in time and he buried his head into my shoulder and then he told me. “I’m going to come all over that pussy right now.”

  “Yes, come on it.” I cried out as he withdrew his enormous, stiff dick that was absolutely rigid, a vein pulsing as he spurted a thick rope of cum all over my fleshy, slick mound.

  “Damn,” he shouted. He threw his head back, snarling almost, and then as he shot another hot load of cum, he pushed back into my slit, fucking me as he let out another blast.

  He came inside me and then he pulled out and shot some more, slapping his cock’s head against my cum-spattered pussy mound, as a little final spurt issued forth.

  I was soaked with him and with me.

  I was completely spent and filled with sex.

  ***

  Later, I lay in his arms again, and it was better than it had even been the night before.

 

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