Chelsea walks out ahead of my mom, and after she walks downstairs, my mom and I follow.
“I can’t believe I’m so nervous,” she says. She might be nervous, but she’s also excited. I can see it in her eyes and in her smile.
I’m happy she has someone in her life to fuss over. For all intents and purposes, my mom is an empty nester. Shayla is a freshman at Calton, and Becca starts there next year. But if my suspicions are correct, maybe she won’t be an empty nester for long.
When I get her alone later, I’ll ask why she hasn’t been drinking, and come to think of it, why she hasn’t been working out.
It’d be weird having a kid sister or brother twenty years my junior, but so cool for my mom and Jack. I won’t get my hopes up in case my suspicions are wrong.
Chelsea sashays out of the house, her dress swishing against her ankles, to the beach. Once again, I went with the beachy scene where everything coordinates in greens, blues, and neutrals.
When Chelsea is halfway up the aisle, Mendelssohn’s “Wedding March” sounds. I take my mom’s hand in mine and whisper. “There’s no other man I would rather give you to than Jack.”
She turns towards me, her eyes swimming with unshed tears. “You do know that no one has ever made me as happy or as proud as you and your sisters have.”
“I know, Mom,” I say and sniff. “We feel the same way about you.” I squeeze her hand and walk her down the aisle keeping my eyes forward, not only because I don’t want to fall but because I have zero interest in seeing Aaron right now. If I do, I might stumble and end up on my ass.
Once we reach the top of the aisle, Jack turns to us. The love on his face melts my heart. I’m not one to show my emotions, like ever. But when I see how much he loves my mom and how happy he is to see her, I can’t help but cry, and tears stream down my cheeks.
“Who presents this woman to be married to this man?” The pastor asks.
I can barely say the words, “I do.”
A tissue is waved in front of my face, and I grasp it. Appreciative, I turn to say thank you to whoever gave it to me. Of course, it’s Aaron with a smug smile on his gorgeous, freshly shaven face.
I don’t return his smile. Instead, I take my seat beside Chelsea and dab my eyes.
The tissue smells like him—a musky summer scent—and rather than focus on my mom’s vows, I’m back at the beach with my head thrown back, screaming as my body spasms around his mouth.
Fuck my fucking hormones to fucking hell.
***
I flop beside a newly engaged Chelsea, who’s on her fiancé’s lap. After she caught my mom’s bouquet, Wesley got down on one knee and proposed to Chelsea with her mom’s engagement ring.
I’m excited and ecstatic for her, but I also feel lonely. I kick off my heels. My feet are no longer skin and bone, they’re cement blocks. The feeling of no shoes feels almost as good as last night’s orgasm.
It’s early evening, and, so far, people show no signs of leaving. My mom and Jack have hardly left the dance floor and are currently swaying to I’ve Been Waiting for a Girl Like You by Foreigner.
My mom is an eighties chick through and through and loves nothing more than seeing her teen hairbands during the concert summer season. My sisters and I have been dragged to more revivals than I care to remember.
She and Jack had left for their honeymoon a few hours ago, but halfway to the airport, they discovered their flight had been rescheduled until tomorrow morning, so they came home to enjoy the rest of the party.
All day, I’ve avoided Aaron in all his suited sexiness. How does a man who’s as big as him manage to look that good in a linen suit? I mean seriously—his lightly tanned skin glows in the sand-colored fabric. No one is supposed to look good in sand. They’re supposed to look washed out and pale.
The tissue he gave me is still tucked inside my dress. I kept it in case I cried again, not because it smells like him.
Chelsea sips on a glass of champagne and giggles. We can’t legally drink yet, but our parents allow us to drink in moderation and under supervision. Although, Chelsea’s idea of moderation means a bottle or two. She’s more than tipsy and can barely stand.
“Time to get you to bed, drunky,” Wesley says, pressing a kiss to her head. He stands, picks her up, and holds her in his arms as if she weighs nothing more than a bag of sugar.
“My hero. My fiancé.” She looks at him adoringly through glazed, unfocused eyes.
“Night, Sis,” I call.
“Night, Sissy,” she calls back and then blows a kiss. “Love you.”
“Love you, too. Drink some water.”
As soon as they leave, Aaron sits down beside me, and my nipples instantly harden. Traitors.
“You’re avoiding me,” he says, smelling a hundred times better than the tissue he gave me.
“What makes you think that?” In an effort to get away from him I stand up before my hormones take over and make me do something stupid like take his hand and lead him back to the beach.
He places an arm on mine, and a series of shivers race up and down my body. “Running away again?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” I do nothing to hide my contempt, but I wish I knew who my contempt was for—me or him. “I have things I need to do.”
“Like what? The wedding’s over. Everyone will leave soon. Sit down and talk to me, Tay.”
“I have stuff to do,” I say, gritting my teeth, but I’m not gritting my teeth at him. I’m trying to keep myself under control.
“Is everything okay?” That would be Jack coming towards us. “What’s going on here?” he asks, directing his question towards Aaron. “Are you upsetting her?”
Aaron tunnels his fingers through his hair. “Typical, Dad. That’s what you would think. That I’m bothering her. What if she’s the one bothering me, huh?”
“Don’t get smart with me, Son.”
“It’s fine, Jack,” I say. “We were talking about the wedding. No big deal. Aaron wanted to help me clean up. The place is like a bomb hit it. Who would have thought our friends would be this messy?” I’m babbling, but I want to defuse the situation before an argument erupts.
Jack looks like he doesn’t believe a word I’ve said. “I warned you last night not to cause any problems.”
Aaron pushes away from his seat and the chair screeches. The room goes silent, and everyone looks at him.
“Please don’t,” I say under my breath. “Please don’t, please. Not now.”
Our eyes meet, and the way he looks at me shows me how hurt he is. My hand aches to reach out to him, to comfort him, but I resist. I can’t show him any affection. No one can ever suspect what happened between us and I’m afraid if I go near him, everyone will.
“I’m so glad you have so much confidence in me, Dad.” He gives a terse salute. “See you again in a few years.”
Aaron doesn’t storm out of the tent, he doesn’t march either, he simply saunters out like the cocky-ass jock he’s always been and always will be.
“He really wasn’t bothering me, Coach,” I say.
“You don’t have to lie to protect him, Taylor. I could see by the look on your face he was more than bothering you.”
My mom floats over and rests her head on Jack’s bicep, she looks content but exhausted. “Everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine, Mom” I lie. “Are you two lovebirds ready for your honeymoon? What time’s your flight?” I know what time their flight is at, but I just need something to talk about, so I don’t have to talk about Aaron.
“At five, which means we’re going to have to go to bed very soon,” she says with a yawn.
I reach out and rub her arm. “You guys go. I’ll say goodbye to everyone.”
On closer inspection, beneath her eyes I see purple shadows showing through her makeup.
“Are you okay, mom? You look a little unwell.”
She glances at Jack and then at me. “I’m fine, baby girl, don’t wor
ry. It’s been a long few weeks, is all. Once I get to bed and get some sleep, I’ll be fine.” I don’t miss how she absentmindedly places a hand on her stomach. “Sorry again about the nannying job. Sarah is very apologetic. What with your sisters traveling around the state in an RV and Chelsea working at the camp, you’re all on your own for a while.”
“It is what it is.” I shrug. “What can I do?”
I was so ready to get away from my real life for a while, and now that Aaron is here, I’m ready to get away from him too.
I don’t know how long he’ll stick around or if he will stick around. For all I know, he could already be on his way back to California by now. But if he does stick around, I sure as hell don’t want to be here because I don’t know what will happen if we’re both within a five-mile radius of each other. Then I have an idea.
“Hey, Jack, since I’m not nannying and it’s too late to apply to be a camp counselor, do you mind if I use your cabin for a few weeks?”
“You sure you want to go there?” he asks, looking at me like I’m crazy. “The place hasn’t been used in a while and needs cleaned. Plus, there’s no air conditioning, and I’m sure some critters have made a home in the attic.”
“I can clean, and I’m always cold even on ninety-degree days. As for the critters, they’ll keep me company.”
“You freak out if a fly comes anywhere near you,” my mom reminds me with a laugh. “What if you see a snake? You’re terrified of snakes.”
“I’ll be fine mom. I’ll pull on my big girl panties and deal with it.” I’m not afraid of many things, but snakes scare the crap out of me. When I was five, I accidentally stood on one, and it wrapped itself around my ankle. Thank God, it didn’t bite, but I’ll never forget the feeling of its scales on my spindly leg.
I screamed bloody murder, and luckily with all my leg shaking, the snake fell off. My mom tore out of the house. When she saw the snake, she grabbed a shovel and chopped it’s head off. Turned out it was a kingsnake, and its bite was nonvenomous, but they’re powerful constrictors. I’m sure it saw tiny me as its next meal. Ever since, I’ve had a phobia.
“Awww, my baby’s all grown up.”
“Whatever, Mom.”
“Do you know where the keys are,” Jack asks.
“No,” I say and shake my head.
“They’re hidden beneath the third rock at the back near the hot tub.”
“Awesome. Thanks.” For the next two weeks, I plan to read and eat junk food and not talk to anyone. I won’t think about Aaron, his abs, his ass, or his dick.
I won’t think about anything.
Chapter 7
Aaron
Coming back here was a fucking mistake.
What the fuck was I thinking?
My dad really does see me as a monster. He practically accused me of harassing Taylor. For Christ’s sake, I was only talking to her, but my dad being my dad, he sees the worst in everything I do. No matter what, he’ll always see the bad and never the good.
He and Sherry are on their honeymoon for the next two weeks and I know I could stay here, in my childhood home, but I want to get away and be somewhere I don’t have people looking at me like I’m a leper.
Last night I stayed at the motel outside of town, but since dad isn’t here tonight, there’s no better place for me to stay than home.
The way Taylor acted towards me was fucking ridiculous. I didn’t coerce her or make her do anything against her will. I didn’t eat her pussy by force. I heard no complaints. I only heard moans and pleasure.
I don’t deserve this treatment. Not one little bit. I’m not a fucking animal. What with everything happening to my so-called football career, I don’t need this crap.
I pace around like a caged lion—trapped by my old life.
Earlier, I’d called my buddy Kayden to see if he had any luck tracking down the doctor, but he said he hadn’t. Neither had the PI.
Next year, it looks like Kayden will be quarterback one. He’ll be the one guiding and leading my team.
I clench my fists, ready to punch something—anything. I can’t stay here—I can’t. There are too many memories. I need time away from everything and everyone. Part of me foolishly hoped people would at least act like they were happy to see me—even if they weren’t.
The only time Taylor wanted me to be here was when I was between her legs, and now she’s acting like I’m a fucking rapist. At the wedding reception, she couldn’t wait to get away from me. What I know for a fact is that last night, I gave her the orgasm of her fucking life.
While pacing, I glimpse a photo on the sitting room wall. One of us smiling with mom. It was taken at the cabin the year before she died. I remember that summer. It was one of our best family vacations.
Dad and I actually got along for a change. There were no arguments over football. There was only sunshine, sailing, fishing, grilling, and lots of laughter. I reach out and run my fingertips over the photo.
Maybe I’m looking at that summer through rose-colored glasses. Mom had always been the referee between dad and me. The one who kept him in his place. He was forever saying that she was the brains.
After she died, there was no one to make him see when he was being a dumb ass. When he was controlling and overbearing. Or when he expected more from me than I could give.
We still have that old cabin. I don’t think it’s used much these days, but it would be the perfect place to hide out while I get my head together and figure out what I’m going to do to get my career back on track.
If I don’t get the Norandrolone out of my system and get my shoulder in working order, there’s no way I’ll play football again, and that’s not an option.
Sometime tomorrow, I’ll drive up to the cabin. A few weeks of fishing and no bullshit is exactly what I need.
For now, I go to my old room. Posters of Peyton, Eli, and Tom still cover the walls. It doesn’t matter that they were enemies on the field. All that matters is and was their drive and athleticism. Dust covers my old trophies and medals. Photos of me and my old teammates still line the dresser.
I grab a sheet from the linen closet and throw it on top of the bed. Time to get some shut-eye and forget about the world for a while.
I flop onto the mattress and scroll through Instagram. I can’t see any photos posted by Taylor, I think she blocked me, but my sister has posted what seems like a hundred photos of the wedding.
In every photo, Taylor looks as sexy as fuck and my dick lurches to life. In one candid photo, she’s standing sideways laughing at something someone said–Chelsea cropped whoever it was out of the photo.
One of the thin straps on her dress is half way down her arm. As for the back of the dress—wearing something like that should be illegal, only because it almost killed me when I saw her. Spaghetti thin straps crisscrossed her bare back right down to the top of her ass.
“Easy, boy,” I say, but my cock has a mind of its own. Memories of last night—I can’t believe it was only last night—jump through my mind.
The memory of the way she draped her legs over my shoulders is so real, I can feel their weight. The way she screamed when she came. The way her body shook and shuddered.
I know she had a good time, and I know she’s probably embarrassed by what took place. If she were here now, would she act embarrassed, or would she do it all over again?
What would it be like to have her pussy wrapped around my dick? To have her move up and down as she moans my name?
My hand reaches down, and I unzip my pants. My cock is more than ready and practically jumps into my hand.
I curl my fingers around my hard-on and groan. My dick won’t give me any peace until I give it some relief.
The image of Taylor’s face when she climaxed is at the forefront of my mind. How her body arched from the rock. How she pushed me away, begging and pleading for no more.
If it were to happen again, I would ignore her, and I would keep going until she came again and again and agai
n. Keep her coming and keep her screaming my name.
My balls draw up threatening to empty already. If she was with me, I would yank her hair while she sucked me dry as she took everything I had to give her. She would slurp and moan and suck. Saliva would drip from her lips just like the juices would drip between her legs.
I would have her finger herself as she blew me. She’d pleasure herself while she pleasured me. Like the way I jerked off last night when I licked her pussy and sucked her clit.
The base of my back tingles and my balls tighten. There’s no way I can hold back. There’s no way I can stop from exploding.
I shove up the bottom off my shirt and watch my cum shoot all over my hand and my stomach. Her name slips from my lips.
I need to get her out of my mind, out of my thoughts. I need to disappear so I can sort my fucking head out.
This isn’t good.
Not good at all.
Chapter 8
Taylor
Once again, I don’t sleep. I get maybe three hours uninterrupted. Every time I close my eyes, Aaron’s face is there. His image won’t leave my thoughts, and it’s pissing me off.
If only coffee could be administered intravenously, because I’ll need ten or more cups to get me through this day.
At 4 AM, I wave my mom and Jack off. The Caribbean for two weeks sounds like heaven on earth. Dark circles ring my mom’s eyes and an ashen tinge colors her skin. She looks like she desperately needs some time away. Maybe she’s just tired and not pregnant.
Before she leaves, she tells me to stay safe at the cabin, and she’ll call when they land.
As soon as they’re gone, I jump into my beat-up Ford Four by Four and drive the three hours to the cabin with Luke Bryan blasting through the speakers. Nothing like listening to songs about country girls shaking it to help me forget about Aaron, but, for some reason, it’s as if every song and every song lyric was written about him.
Out of Line: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance Page 5