Badass

by Linda Barlow

  Oh God. Did he know what I’d done? Slept with my stepbrother? The shame. I wanted to slide under the table and die.

  Shane didn’t say anything. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He was probably wishing he were a hundred miles away. A thousand.

  “I’m so happy we all made it here safely,” Molly said. “I don’t know what we are going to do about the wedding, though, given the sad condition of that lovely little church. Maybe the priest can marry us outside, or even on the beach? What do you think, Henry?”

  “I think we should get married in some other church. Or in a damn registry office. They have those here, right?”

  “The priest is an old friend,” Molly reminded him. “I’ll have a chat with him tomorrow. I suggest we follow Cassie and Shane’s excellent example and go over there to help him and his parishioners clean up. We can arrange something then, and in the meantime, I’d like to do some good here, if we can.”

  “Okay,” Dad said, giving her a warm smile. “I like that idea.”

  I liked Molly more and more. She would be good for my father. She was an upbeat, sensible woman. And I could see that he loved her. The way he looked at her—I wished Shane would look at me that way.

  Just once.

  But Shane was looking at his plate and shoveling food into his mouth as if he hadn’t eaten for weeks.

  My heart ached. I hoped we wouldn’t have to stay too long in Cabo, waiting for our parents to figure out where and when to get married. Shane and I couldn’t be together now, even if we still wanted to—which I of course did.

  Last night, upon arriving at the hotel, we had crashed in the same bed. But now that our parents were here we had to take our previously-reserved rooms. Which were on separate floors.

  Chapter 48—Shane

  I waited until the sunset to make my move. Our parents were surely asleep by now, especially since my mom’s ankle was sprained.

  Cassie on the other hand was in the room under me. Maybe she was naked, lying in her bed pleasuring herself thinking about me.

  Only one way to find out. Now I could’ve just taken the normal path, use the stairs. Knock on Cassie’s door, risk waking our parents in the adjacent room. Henry was probably a light sleeper, his ears listening for a noise to confirm his suspicions that I was fucking his daughter.

  Can’t blame the guy—I’d do the same thing if I had a daughter as hot as Cassie.

  But I wasn’t just fucking her, I was obsessed with her, even though we had no future together. But she wasn’t my stepsister yet. I was gonna fuck her senseless until my mom said “I do.”

  I tied a bed sheet to the steel balcony and slid down it. Once on Cassie’s balcony I simply opened the sliding glass door. Gaining entry to her room was so easy it was almost laughable.

  She wasn’t in her bed. I crept up to the bathroom, and found my girl naked, bubbles covering her nipples, water beads glistening on her neck. With her long red hair draped against the back of the tub, she almost looked like a goddess. My own personal mermaid.

  She didn’t notice me at first, but once she caught a glimpse of me in the mirror her face went white. I covered her mouth with my hand before she could let out a scream.

  Chapter 49—Cassie

  When I saw movement out of the corner of my eye, I freaked. In an instant I realized it was Shane, but my heart was gunning enough to rattle my entire chest. I guess the attack by those two vicious bikers was going to haunt me for a while.

  “What are you doing in here? The door was locked.”

  He looked gorgeous—all six-foot-two of his sculpted hard-ass body—but I couldn’t let him get to me. Not again. The road trip had come to an end and we were both going to have to accept it, and not just for our parents’ sake. I couldn't go on like this anymore, hiding what I really felt for him. It was too damn hard.

  I could see from his body language and the look in his eyes what he had in mind. Another mind-bending fuck. He was primed and ready for it and it didn’t take anything more than seeing him, hearing his voice, remembering how it felt to be together to make me wet. Well, wetter. I could invite him into the tub—we’d done it in the shower, but never in the bathtub, and this one even had Jacuzzi jets.

  “Shane, we can’t. Our parents are right next door, and they are already suspicious. We agreed—it was only for the road trip. And our road trip is over.”

  “So it’s forbidden now, huh?”

  “It was forbidden as soon as we found out about them.”

  “Yeah? We met first. How come it’s not forbidden for them?”

  I didn’t have a good answer for that.

  “Anyway,” he said, caressing me gently, “I like forbidden. It’s hot.”

  The weirdest feeling ripped through me—I wanted to do it even more. Now that Dad and Molly were here, safe and sound and so obviously together, the thing between Shane and me seemed even more forbidden. And he was right: it was hot.

  Goddammit. I was in love with Shane, but I wanted to bone my stepbrother. Was I some kind of deviant?

  “We’ll be quiet,” he said, starting to pull off his clothes. “You’ll have to keep your mouth shut and not scream as loudly as you usually do.” He ripped his shirt off, balled it up, and shook it threateningly at me. “Or I’ll have to gag you.”

  Oh God. I was such a loser. I’d fallen for him, but he, badass that he was, was into me just for the hot sex. That had been all I’d wanted at the start, too, but I at some point I had let my defenses down.

  All it had taken was a little crack, and in he had slipped. Into the fortress of my heart.

  I stood up with a jerk, feeling the water spill down my body. I stepped out of the tub and grabbed a towel from the rack. “No.” I tossed my wet hair out of my eyes, took another towel for my head, and stormed out of the bathroom. I think I scratched myself with the towels, so hard did I rub my wet skin, but I couldn’t do anything to appease the ache inside.

  He followed me as I started toward the bed. I was about to sit down on it when I thought twice and circled it instead, putting the queen-sized bed between us. Shane was naked now, too, and his cock—his lovely thick delicious cock—was jutting.

  “Shane, please.”

  “I love it when you say please.” He stroked his own cock, rather absently. “Please fuck me, Shane. Please go down on me, Shane. Please let me come, Shane.”

  Each word of his caused a throb deep inside me. I squeezed my eyes closed for a moment. This was just too difficult!

  “Please let me go, Shane,” I whispered. “I can’t do this anymore.”

  His face screwed up as he stared at me. I could feel him probing. They probably taught him shit like that in the military—how to tell if your adversary is telling the truth or lying. How to read their body language. I was dead sure that mine was revealing every tiny bit of how much I was yearning to be with him. What he didn’t know was that I yearned for it to be something more than just another casual fuck.

  When he spoke again, his voice was gentler: “Cassie, it’s our last chance. I was hoping maybe they wouldn't get married when the church walls caved in, but they’re gonna do it on the beach or something. We have one more night. Let’s not waste it.”

  When he put it that way, I was lost. I wanted one more night. But I was terrified that I would give myself away. I didn't think I could bear to see him withdraw from me if I foolishly lost control and screamed out “I love you.” I wasn’t sure I could keep it inside.

  So I pointed rather shakily toward the door. “I’m sorry. Just go, okay? Please.”

  He put one knee on the bed and reached over it for me. I backed away, but the windows were behind me—curtains closed, thank goodness—so I couldn’t retreat far. He fisted a hunk of my wet hair with one hand and pulled. Not too hard. He didn't hurt me, but he was firm and unyielding and he knew me well enough by now to push my most erotic buttons.

  I submitted, just as he had known I would. The bastard gave me a wicked grin and used his other ar
m to drag me onto the bed. What could I do, I asked myself. He was a SEAL with a dominant streak. I couldn't fight him, even if I’d wanted to.

  Good excuse, right?

  “I’m not leaving without one last kiss.”

  “We’re naked on my bed and you’re talking about one last kiss?”

  He laughed softly and pulled me against him so we were kneeling on the mattress, pressed together face to face. His chest, his hard belly, his urgent cock, his firm ass that my fingers couldn’t resist stroking. When he tilted his head and gave me that kiss, I felt myself go all loose and soft and mushy. I couldn't resist him. I must have been crazy to even think resisting was possible.

  I started stroking his body because I had to. He was so perfect. So beautiful. And I wanted him so much.

  One of his hands coasted gently over my breast. His fingers teased my nipple, which was already popping out, full and erect. “One last everything, Cass. I know it’s fucked up. I feel weird about it, too. But I couldn’t stay up there alone. Not while there was any chance to be inside you again.” His mouth moved down my throat, and one of his hands somehow got between us to press and rub against my clit. “I fucking need you, Cass.”

  And over the edge I went. Need wasn’t love. But it was something. And I was so hungry for him that those words were all it took. I gave in to the tumult inside me. If this was the last time, then we had to make it count.

  We kissed deep and long and I tried to hold on to every moment. See and feel every moment. Because once our parents were married, we could never be together again. Not like this.

  So I touched him as if I had never touched him before. Discovered him. The way his hair felt springy under my palms. The surprising gentleness of his lips as they settled over mine. The sensitivity of his tongue. The strong tendons in his neck as I moved my fingertips over them. The firmness of his shoulders and the way the muscles flexed and played under his skin when I caressed him.

  As I moved my fingers and my mouth over his body, I kept finding things I hadn’t really noticed before—the intricate designs of his tattoos, which I traced slowly, both with my fingers and my tongue. The tiny crinkles of hair on his chest. The hills and valleys of his amazing six-pack of abs. The impudent way his cock twitched every time I brushed my fingers there, the way it thickened when I thought it couldn’t get any larger.

  If Shane had been a sea creature, I’d have certified him as a perfect specimen. But even though I adored and enjoyed the beauty of his body, it wasn’t what was primary in my thoughts that night. I was seeing him in a different way—not just as the super sexy hot fuck I’d planned on taking for my own on our out-of time, out-of-mind fantasy road trip. But as the real man I’d slowly come to know as we had traveled together and challenged each other.

  I couldn’t claim to understand him very well yet, despite all the time we had spent together. He was a complicated man, and he hid his real feelings behind a wall of attitude and toughness. His whole “I sleep alone” thing proved how unwilling he was to let anybody in. That along with the “I don’t have lovers; I fuck.”

  I couldn’t fault him for those things because I was kinda the same way. Too busy for boyfriends. Too hard at work for a social life. Intimacy was scary because if I gave my heart to someone, he’d probably just stomp on it. Or leave me the way my mother had.

  So it was a good thing, I told myself, that Shane had his own intimacy problems. We were alike in that way. We knew where the boundaries were. We knew how to keep ourselves safe.

  It had taken an earthquake and a near rape to break through my walls. To make me want something more with this man who had pestered me, annoyed me, made me laugh, made me cry, and made my body sing. I had no idea what it would take to smash down his walls, but I wasn’t going to try to find out.

  Even if it had only been the two of us, and nobody else involved, I wouldn’t have wished to destroy the equilibrium that Shane, a man with a difficult and dangerous job, had created for himself. I didn’t want him to ache the way I was now aching. I didn’t want him to feel the pain of loving when love was not allowed.

  But if it was forbidden to speak my love, I could show it. That could not be denied me.

  Shane lay back on the bed while I kissed and caressed him all over. While I learned him and tried to memorize every bump and curve of his body. While I worshipped him. It was long and slow and loving. When I had explored every inch of him, he pulled me down and did the same to me. His lips, his tongue, the sweet, sharp pleasure of his hands touching me, arousing, me, driving me into never-ending spirals of delight.

  I don't know how we found the patience to draw it out. Usually we couldn't wait to smash our bodies together—fingers and tongues and pelvises jerking into wild, crazy action. Not this time. This time we treated our passion like a slow fire to be coaxed and nurtured into a deeper, steadier flame.

  When at last he loomed over me, his cock poised at my entrance, his eyes smiling down at me in the sweetest look I had ever seen on his face, I reached up and cupped his cheek, which was rough and unshaven. “You’re such a badass,” I said with a smile. But what I was really saying was, I love you.

  He grinned right back at me, and then he bowed his hips and pushed into me, hard. I arched, my entire body aching with my need for him. It felt so good. “And you’re such a kickass.” His eyes were twinkling. “Kickass Cass.”

  Then his rhythm picked up, and soon neither of us was capable of rational thought or speech.

  Chapter 50—Shane

  I held her close for a while after our first round. If this was our last night together, I’d make sure neither of us got any sleep.

  She looked up at me and I pressed my body against hers, hovering on top of her tits, I kissed her.

  Cassie pushed me off her.

  “What’s wrong, babe?”

  “It’s nothing.”

  But she didn’t have to tell me what was bothering her. I knew already. It was making me crazy too. It, us, whatever this had been, was done. I doubt she understood what she was feeling. I didn’t understand what I was feeling either. But I wasn’t ready to even try to talk about it with her. If we didn’t have a future together, what was the point of expressing my feelings?

  “Let’s just enjoy the time we have left,” I started kissing down her body.

  She opened her mouth, probably to protest, but I stopped her with a kiss. I took her mouth, my lips covering hers. We fell into each other like we were the newlyweds and this was our honeymoon. Our kisses were sweet and loving, and I stared into her eyes. Slow, I wanted to go so slow that it hurt, savor every kiss, every breath, every touch. I moved my hand over her warm flesh, kneading her thighs, urging her closer to me. I caressed her nipples, licking the buds, swirling my tongue around them, savoring her scent. My tongue lapped at her right nipple, sucking it until she moaned, and my fingers squeezed her left nipple. I moved my mouth off her nipple and switched to the other one.

  She became alive under me, her breath hitched. Her hands grasped my back, tracing my muscles, pulling me into her. I reached my hand down to her pussy and parted her lips. She was warm, wet. And I couldn’t wait to taste her.

  “Open your legs, babe. I want you to come all over my face.”

  My finger found her clit and I rubbed it, as she spread her legs wider for me. I pressed her tight thighs back. I slipped my tongue inside of her and explored her with my fingers. She moaned and grabbed my hair and pressed me deeper into her pussy.

  I was fucking addicted to her. I licked and licked and licked, sending her into a frenzy. Her back arched and her breath quickened. Her pussy clenched and she came, my mouth soaked in her sweet juices.

  After a few adorable giggles, she knelt on the bed, stroking my cock. She reached for a condom, but I grabbed her hand.

  I wanted to be inside her, without any barrier between us. “Cassie, the Navy tests us every month. And I give you my word you’re the only woman I’ve been with since the night at the cove. I’m clean
.”

  Her brow furrowed for a few seconds, then she nodded her head. “Okay, I’m on the pill. I want to feel all of you.”

  I’d never had sex without a condom before, never wanting to risk becoming a father to some kid I’d never see or getting some disease. But I trusted Cassie.

  I slid my length into her hot sheath, feeling her all along my length. Every nerve ending on my cock awoke. That sweet silky feel of my flesh pressed against hers. We couldn’t be any fucking closer. We’d become one.

  She gasped, and pulled me deeper. “Make love to me.”

  And that’s exactly what I did. Something I’d never done. I made love to her all night long. We didn’t fuck, no raw and dirty sex. I showed Cassie with my love and my touch what I could never express to her through words.

  She was riding me, thrashing around in the covers, my mouth sucking on her nipples. I pulled her hair back and made strong eye contact. “Say my name, baby.”

  Her eyes focused on me, penetrating my soul. “Shane, I love you Shane.”

  Love. No girl had ever told me that she loved me. Her words put me over the edge, and we came together, her screaming my name over and over.

  After she fell asleep in my arms, I escaped from her embrace. I sat on the chair across from the bed and watched her sleep. I grabbed my sketchpad and drew her for a final time, her soft curves, her wild hair, her beautiful face. When I finished the picture, I placed it on the nightstand under her phone. On second thought, I left her several of my sketches from the past few nights. They would tell her better than I ever could how I felt about her.

  Did she really love me? I’d never been in love, but often heard some of my married buddies talking incessantly about their wives. They’d carry their wives' pictures in their packs, sneaking a glimpse when they had a chance. But I’d never wanted that, to be dependent on another person. I placed my hand on her naked thigh and she rolled over in her sleep. This could never work. Never. Even without our parents getting married, we weren’t right for each other. Cassie deserved to be with some guy who had fancy degrees and could make small talk at her university receptions. I was not that man. I could hear it now. “What does your boyfriend do? Oh, he’s a killer.”