Smash: A Stepbrother MMA Romance (Includes bonus novel Rock Hard!)

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Smash: A Stepbrother MMA Romance (Includes bonus novel Rock Hard!) Page 31

by Hamel, B. B.


  “Are you going to take my dick?” he whispered in my ear.

  “Don’t make me wait,” I said.

  I felt his tip press against my wet pussy and suddenly he was inside me.

  I gasped, gripping the rough bark of the tree, the wind whistling through the branches, as his cock filled me entirely. For a blinding second, there was only the sound of the forest and the feeling of him pressing deep into me.

  His hands tightened on my hips. “Fuck, your tight cunt is incredible,” he grunted.

  I couldn’t respond as he began to thrust inside me deep, fucking me deep and slow at first, then hard up against the tree. I lost myself in the pleasure running up and down my body as he pushed deeper and harder. I had to hold on to the tree as he fucked me rougher and stronger, his strong hands roaming along my skin. He grabbed my breasts and worked my hard nipples.

  “Your ass is fucking perfect,” he said, slapping it hard.

  I gasped. “Do that again,” I said.

  He smacked my ass harder. “I know you liked that.”

  I moaned as his fingers found my clit, his cock still thrusting deep. I couldn’t stop myself from moaning loudly. I knew there could be people nearby, knew that we weren’t more than forty-five minutes from the house, but I wasn’t in control of myself anymore.

  Reid was in control of me. There was only him and his strong body, working mine. I looked back over my shoulder at his mouth hanging open, his hands working my clit as he thrust into me.

  His hand slapped my ass again and I gasped as his fingers slipped back onto my clit. It was too much, the pleasure rolling through my body in waves, and Reid, his strong hands, his perfect cock pushing deep inside me. I began to moan and my body tensed as the orgasm built and rolled through my chest.

  I pressed my face against the bark of the tree, my mouth hanging open.

  “Are you coming for me?” Reid grunted.

  “Fuck. Yes, keep going.”

  I heard him moan as he continued to work my spot, pressing harder and faster, deep into my core. I wanted more and more and for it never to end when suddenly I felt my orgasm explode through me.

  Every muscle seemed to tense and then relax over and over as it rolled through me in waves of blinding pleasure. The outside air felt cool and perfect on my skin as I bucked my hips back against Reid, working his thick cock inside my pussy as I came. The world locked into place and there was nothing else I wanted or needed.

  And just as I started, it began to fade. I felt Reid stiffen behind me, grabbing my tits hard and thrusting deep. He grunted, moaning loudly, and I moaned in response, working my hips, helping him to come.

  Slowly we came down together. We lay down on the forest floor, our sweating bodies intertwined. I looked up at the sky through the trees and listened to his breath and his heart beat.

  “Shit, Becca,” he said.

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever come like that.”

  “Me neither,” I said, giggling.

  I didn’t want to get up. I wanted to stay there for as long as we possibly could.

  But eventually, I knew we’d have to go home. Back to our parents. Our married parents.

  “Let’s stay here for a little while,” I said softly.

  “Okay.”

  And for the next hour, I wasn’t his stepsister.

  I was just his.

  Chapter Twelve: Reid

  As mud sucked at my boots and sweat rolled down my back, I couldn’t stop thinking about Becca.

  Her ass under my hands, her hips against my skin, her lips and tits and every muscle of her mine. I kept replaying the face she made as I pressed my cock inside her for the first time. It was pure pleasure mixed with slight pain and all of it wanting more and more. She bucked her hips back against me like my dick was the last thing in the world and she needed every inch.

  I had been thinking about fucking Becca, just like that, for as long as I could remember. Ever since seeing her for the first time, since seeing her innocent face in the hallways at school. It only got worse once we became stepsiblings.

  And now that I had her, it was like crack. Like the pills I hoofed back over the border. She was lodged there deep in my thalamus, in the instinctual part of my brain. There was no cutting that out. There was no getting around it.

  Afterward, we lay there on the ground under the tree with our initials carved into it and breathed each other and the forest. I wanted to tell her everything, to tell her all about the smuggling and the cancer and the money, and especially about how badly I wanted and needed her, but I couldn’t find the words. They just wouldn’t come. I didn’t want to spoil the moment, the perfect peace of a post-orgasm moment.

  As I crashed through the underbrush, the sound of the river up ahead filling the forest, I knew that the conversation about my smuggling was coming sooner rather than later. I couldn’t hide it from her for much longer, not at the rate I was smuggling. She was already asking questions about it, thanks to that annoying pill head Lindsey.

  But I had more pressing things to worry about than Lindsey and her big mouth. As I forded the river again, the water up to my waist this time, I felt a stab of nervous energy spike through my core. I held my pack up above my head to make sure it didn’t get wet, and I knew that I was a target for anyone watching the border. I’d be an easy target, splashing around as fast as I could with my pack up in the air. There was nobody around for miles, or at least as far as I could tell, and I hadn’t seen so much as a deer during my entire walk.

  Still, someone could easily wander along and spot me. If that ever happened, everything would be over.

  My luck held, though, and I was across without incident. I set out immediately for the campsite, knowing full well that I would get there in plenty of time.

  I wondered again how Becca would take it if she knew that I was a drug smuggler. Worrying about the morality of the whole thing was probably a waste of time, but during long hikes in the middle of the wilderness I couldn’t help but let my mind wander over that shit. Becca always had a strong sense of right and wrong, although I didn’t know where the line fell for her. If only she could understand what it was like during those first years, how bad Mom was doing, how the bills just kept piling up higher and higher with no end in sight, maybe she would understand. The stress of buying drugs and paying hospitals and of fighting with insurance companies to cover what we needed only made Mom way worse.

  I did what I had to do for my family. I always would. I couldn’t stand by and let a thing like money threaten my mother’s recovery.

  A man couldn’t be a man if he wasn’t willing to sacrifice, to fuck shit up in the name of keeping his family safe.

  Soon, I got to the campground with plenty of time and sat down on my usual picnic table to strip off my shoes and socks. The sun felt good on my face as I leaned back and waited for the black cars to suddenly show up with their gangsters and their drugs.

  As I sat there, river water dripping from my clothes, I remembered the walk back to our house with Becca. After an hour of just lying there, we stood up and dressed, heading back slowly toward the house.

  I had wanted to tell her everything. I’d wanted to tell her what she made me feel when she walked into the room, how my dick stirred almost every time she came near, how hungry I was for her body. I wanted to take her again then and there, over and over, until she walked crooked and I could barely breathe. I was starving for her in a way I had never experienced before, and getting a taste of her pussy had only made it worse.

  With so many women before her, one night had been enough. One night and I was tired of the boring, vapid girls that kept going after me. And because I was successful at climbing, that made me popular in a small town like Ridgewood. For a long time I had no trouble getting girls back into my room and doing what I wanted with them. And after I got it, I didn’t need it again.

  But Becca was different. She had staying power. She was still lodged deep in m
y skull, despite getting inside her.

  But as we walked back toward the house, I didn’t say any of that and she didn’t say anything either. We hiked in silence, hardly looking at each other, almost as if it were awkward. I could practically hear her brain screaming out about us being stepbrother and stepsister, but that never mattered to me. Those were just words. Our parents may have gotten married but that didn’t mean a thing to me. We weren’t really siblings. I wanted what I wanted and that was enough.

  Once we got back to the house, I heard my mom moving around the kitchen, cooking dinner, and her dad was watching a baseball game on TV. She looked at me and frowned.

  “Keep it between us,” she whispered.

  “What am I going to do, go inside and announce to your dad that I just gave you the best orgasm of your life?”

  “Reid!”

  “Tell my mom I just fucked you up against a tree and made you squirm?”

  “Okay, I get it.”

  I grinned at her, my heart pounding, excitement filing my veins again. I moved closer to her. “I want to make you scream my name again. I want to take you out to the deep woods and let you scream it.”

  She was quiet for a second. “Just keep it between us.”

  Then she walked into the house, smiling big. My mom swept her up into dinner preparation and she was gone.

  I leaned back and sighed as the memory faded and I was back at the campsite, sitting on a bench like an asshole, waiting for more assholes to give me drugs to drag across the border. It felt like a never-ending cycle even though the end was supposed to be in sight.

  That was my biggest fear that the gangsters would keep coming up with excuses to keep me in debt, to keep me shackled to them. Sometimes, especially in the hours directly after crossing back into America with a backpack full of drugs, I would think about all the different ways I could get back at them, from gunning them down in cold blood to stealing their shipment and running away with it. But if I gave into any of those stupid, childish fantasies, I could kiss my climbing career goodbye, along with my family.

  The sound of tires on gravel announced the cars long before I saw them.

  I pulled my wet shoes on over my feet and stood.

  One black car turned the corner, stopped, and only Rigley got out of the driver’s side.

  “Mister Smuggler,” he said, grinning at me.

  “Rigley.”

  “How was the trip?” He walked over and stopped in front of me, crossing his arms in front of his chest and squinting against the sun. I had the urge to break his jaw but kept myself in check.

  “Uneventful.”

  “That’s how we like it, yes?”

  “Got the stuff?”

  He frowned. “So fast, down to business.”

  “I have a long trip back.”

  “Yes, you do, don’t you?”

  “I’d love to get started as soon as I can.”

  He took the hint. “Okay, follow me.”

  We walked over together to the car. He popped the trunk and nodded at the contents.

  “Is this a joke?”

  “No joke, Mister Smuggler.”

  Inside the trunk was at least twice as much product as the last time, and that had been pushing it. I looked at him and shook my head.

  “No deal.”

  He laughed. “No deal?”

  “No deal, Rigley. I can’t carry this much weight and still expect to make it back.”

  “I see.” He stood very close and very still.

  “You don’t get it. When it comes to hiking, every extra bit of weight you carry means you’re expending that much more effort to keep moving.”

  “And you don’t think you can carry this much weight?”

  I knew what he was doing. I could see right through it.

  “I didn’t plan for this, no. With different gear, I could do it, no problem. But you people didn’t say that you were changing things.”

  “We changed things.”

  “I can see that. And I’m telling you that it’s not okay.”

  He nodded slowly. “I understand what you’re saying. But tell me, you have a family, yes?”

  Motherfucker. He had gone past trying to push my ego and was going right to threatening my family.

  And frankly, that was the only thing that worked.

  “They have nothing to do with this,” I said.

  “They have everything to do with this, or so I am told.”

  “I can carry half of this safely. I can come back and get the rest next time, plus some extra. Just let me plan for it.”

  “No,” he said simply.

  I knew there was nothing I could do. I knew these men would do anything to keep their drugs flowing, because their drugs were such a huge source of income for their organization. It wasn’t just about me and Rigley, it was about everyone in the mob, and if there was any interruption in the sweet flow of cash, then we were all fucked.

  A man like Rigley knew that. A man like Rigley would do anything to keep himself alive, including hurting my family.

  “Fine, motherfucker. I’ll carry it.”

  I spit the words at him like they were fire.

  “Good. Get started.” He smiled at me calmly.

  I pulled open my pack and began to shove the pills inside. I barely even had enough space to fit it all, but I managed to fill every single square inch of the pack while Rigley watched in silence.

  When I was done, he shut the trunk. Without a word, I turned and walked back over to where my socks were still drying in the sun.

  Rigley followed me for a few steps.

  “Mister Smuggler?”

  I looked back at him. “Reid,” I said.

  “Reid. If you ever call me a motherfucker again, I’ll murder you.”

  I smiled at him. “I’d love to see you try.”

  There was a moment when I thought for sure that he was going to reach for his gun and shoot me right there. And truthfully, there was some quiet voice in the back of my mind that would have welcomed it. Not because I wanted to die, but because I was sick of living at their whims.

  Instead, he shrugged and walked back to his car. He got in and drove off. I watched him go, my heart pounding, until slowly I regained some composure.

  I put my socks back on, hitched my pack on tight, and started back toward home.

  It felt exactly like I knew it would.

  The pack was too heavy. There was nothing I could do about it, not without risking retaliation or worse, and so I had to suffer on. I crossed the river with no problem, but the sun was already beginning to dip toward the horizon and I was nowhere near my usual campsite.

  It was slow going. Going out with an overloaded pack was one of the biggest dangers a serious hiker faced. People never took into account the sort of toll carrying even an extra pound over an extended period takes on a body, let alone an unplanned twenty pounds. If I wasn’t careful and I pushed myself, that was the sort of weight that could lead to dehydration or heat stroke.

  I checked the sun and my compass. I was at least another few hours out from my campsite, and the light was already dying. Frustrated and annoyed, I decided to search out a decent spot to stop for the night.

  It took me twenty minutes before I found a small stream, and another ten before I found a flat, sandy stretch good enough and dry enough to set my tent up on. Soon, with only minimal fumbling around in the dark, I climbed into my shelter and bedded down for the night.

  My dreams were all about Becca. The only thing I could think about was tasting her lips again, seeing her perfect curves bent over in front of me as I drove my hard cock deep between her legs. I wanted to split her open and let her come rough and raw for hours. Instead, I was stuck in a tent in an unfamiliar spot, tossing and turning in the humid night air.

  But eventually, sleep happened, and I found myself waking up just before dawn and breaking down my campsite. My only food had been a tin of beans and some protein bars, and my stomach was rumbling as I s
et out.

  With how far behind schedule I was, and the extra weight dragging me down, I predicted that I would be getting back home closer to sunset.

  Which meant I had a lot of slow, painful miles to think.

  To think about Becca and what I wanted from her, and how I was going to get it.

  To think about the mob and all the shit I was in.

  To think about how all these changes meant something big was happening, something I definitely couldn’t be a part of.

  And to think about how I was going to get out, because getting out was my only option, even when it felt like getting out was impossible.

  Chapter Thirteen: Rebecca

  My feet were aching like crazy as I pushed open our front door.

  “Hello?” I called out.

  “Hey, sweetie,” Cora said.

  I walked into the kitchen and smiled at her. “How’s it going?”

  “Good. How was work?”

  “You know, the usual. Asshole truckers and terrible tippers.”

  “You’ll get used to it. I’m glad you found some work at least.”

  “Where’s Reid?”

  She frowned. “I’m not sure, honestly. We expected him back by now.”

  I checked the clock. It was half past six already, and he usually was back closer to noon on the Sundays he was running guide trips for fishermen.

  “Did he call?”

  “No, and we tried his cell with no luck.”

  “But he doesn’t usually have service out there, does he?”

  “No. I’m sure he’s fine. I’m just being a worrier.”

  I laughed. “He’s probably out climbing and forgot to check in. Don’t worry, Cora, he’ll be fine.”

  “By the way, me and your dad are going out for dinner tonight, which means you’re on your own.”

  “I think I can manage to feed myself.”

  “And feed Reid when he shows up.”

  I nodded. “Got it. Shower time.”

  “Enjoy. See you later tonight.”

  I turned and left the kitchen, a knot of worry rolling in my gut. It wasn’t like Reid to just disappear, and even though we were both acting like everything was totally fine, I could see the worry etched in every inch of Cora’s smile. We were both terrified that something bad had happened out in the deep woods, like it had so many times before to so many other people.

 

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