Off Limits: A Stepbrother MMA Romance

by Harper, Callie

  "Fuck off, Chapin." I knew who’d growled out those words without having to turn around. My body shivered from his nearness, with anticipation.

  "Well, if it isn't Mr. Personality." The blond guy turned and clapped Tuck on the back. I turned to look and could no longer breathe. He was wearing a tux. It reminded me of the first time I'd seen him. I remembered him standing there at the party, his bowtie untied and dangling to the side, a few buttons of his crisp white dress shirt undone. Tonight he looked impeccable, all of that raw power buttoned into a perfectly tailored tux, the beast tamed. But I still saw it there, lurking just beneath the surface, so potent and carnal. It made me want to rip that tux right off of him.

  "Where have you been hiding yourself, dude?" the blond guy asked. It figured his name was Chapin. Seeing the two of them standing together, I had to revise my earlier assessment. Chapin wasn't all that hot. Next to Tuck, he looked like a pretty, done up mannequin. Tuck towered over him, every inch real, rugged, raw man.

  Chapin continued, the only one of us talking while Tuck and I feasted on each other with our eyes. "I didn't even know you were in town."

  I wondered if Tuck had been hiding out from some of the people he used to hang out with. I guess he had to if he was really trying to make a change. I couldn't see Chapin hanging out down at the gym.

  "How do you two know each other?" I asked.

  "School," Tuck said. Burning hot, he took all of me in. I’d never understood the meaning of the phrase ‘undressing me with his eyes’ before. Now I got it.

  "Tuck and I were at boarding school together for about six months. Until he got kicked out." Leaning in closer toward me, Chapin added in a conspiratorial whisper, "watch out for this guy. He's a brawler. You're much safer with me. I'm a lover not a fighter."

  "Back off," Tuck growled. He meant it. Chapin backed off, stepping away from me with his hands up as if pleading no contest. He had a smile on his face, but I knew he meant the retreat. "Settle down, dude." Nodding at me but looking at Tuck, he asked, “Where have you been hiding this one?"

  “Fuck off," Tuck said, still fixated on me. "She's my stepsister."

  Chapin burst out with a loud laugh. "Well, fuck me. I wish my father would marry me one of those."

  I shot him a nasty look, but he continued, undeterred. "Listen, babe. You want to escape from this tiger here, you let me know. A few of us are heading out to a club later on after this. You should join."

  Tuck took a step toward him, just one step but Chapin jolted as if he’d been smacked. Trying to regain his suave demeanor, he gave Tuck a mock salute and me a wink as he headed back into the throng of partygoers.

  Tuck stepped toward me again. "You are not going out with him."

  I clutched my drink in my hands and swallowed nervously. I knew I should protest against his insane possessiveness, his jealous male staking-a-claim bullshit. But down between my thighs he made my sex throb and my panties grow wet, at least the tiny scrap of lace I had on that passed for panties.

  "What are you wearing?" Tuck looked at me like he wanted to rip my dress off with his teeth. My breathing quickened and my chest rose and fell under his hungry gaze. "You're not wearing a bra."

  This was too much. We were in the middle of a crowded party, filled with friends of our parents. He looked like he was about to throw me down and fuck me beside the punch bowl.

  “Excuse me, I’ve got to… I need some air,” I managed, brushing past him. I felt unsteady in my high heels. I never wore them, but somehow I figured I’d feel unsteady even in my bare feet. Tuck knocked me right off my equilibrium.

  He didn’t follow me, but I could still feel his eyes on me as I walked.

  My mom had hung the French flag from the 20-foot ceiling in the main hallway of the house. It made me snort. We were as French as a French fry. I’d never understood her.

  But she did know how to throw a party. Stepping out into the night air, the back yard and pool area had been transformed into a fairyland. Little white lights hung everywhere, a string quartet played, even the ridiculous large twisted arrangements looked cool in the evening light, as if they’d been bewitched. I had to laugh, remembering Tuck getting eaten alive by the spiky leaves and reeds. He’d been a good sport to help out like that. The spoiled brat I’d met in New York wouldn’t have done it.

  Was he really trying to change? He seemed so sincere that afternoon, basically telling me I’d been right when I’d told him he was a spoiled rich daddy's boy. It still made me cringe. I could be pretty cold. Right now I felt so confused, such a mixture of hot and cold. Wasn’t that what always caused crazy storms? I could picture a weatherman predicting with a big map of me—over here we have the cold front of the past, but coming in fast it’s hot, hot, hot. You know what that means, folks. Head out to buy your canned goods and batteries. We’re in for a big one.

  I didn’t know what made sense anymore. I’d had such a clear understanding of right and wrong when I was growing up. Books good, boys bad. That had gotten me to 20 pretty well. I didn’t think it would serve me well for the rest of my life, though. At some point, I had to let down my guard, take a risk. How had Tuck put it? Live a little.

  “Jewel!” A friend of my mom’s recognized me and came over to give me a hug, ask how things were going. We chatted for a few minutes before I felt a familiar blond, smiling presence. Chapin had come back for seconds.

  “Are we safe?” he joked, taking my arm and drawing me toward the shadows near the pool house.

  “I doubt it,” I answered honestly. Tuck never let up, relentless.

  “We should get out of here.” He brushed back a strand of my hair, then caught it between his fingers. “I have the craziest feeling that your hair color is real.”

  I laughed again. He was like the froth on top of a latte, tickling my nose. Nothing as satisfying as the actual drink, but fun nonetheless. “It’s real,” I confirmed.

  “You might be the only girl in L.A. who can say that.” He paused and seemed to consider the statement for a moment. “Or at least the only one who can say it and be telling the truth.”

  I laughed and he smiled at me. I had to admit, he did have the charming smile down pat. “So you want to head out?” he pressed. “A bunch of people are heading to this new club downtown. Or we could drive down to my family’s place in Malibu. We have a house right on the beach. I’d love to show it to you.” He trailed a finger down my shoulder and I thought about how funny it was the way rich L.A. guys flirted, trying to lure you in with the proximity of their parents’ real estate to the ocean.

  “Back the fuck off,” Tuck growled from the shadows.

  Chapin rolled his eyes but complied. “The guard dog’s back.”

  Tuck didn’t say anything else. He didn’t have to. He just stepped closer, his fists tight as if prepared for a fight. Chapin gave me a look. “Another night, gorgeous.”

  “In your fucking dreams,” Tuck retorted.

  “You are one fucked-up dude,” Chapin shot back as he retreated. “You realize she’s your stepsister, right?”

  I brought my hands to my face in embarrassment. He knew. He could tell there was something between us. First the event planner lady earlier this day, yelling at us to get back to work. Now his school buddy naming it, calling it out in the open. We had to stop this.

  “Leave me alone,” I whispered and started to move away.

  He caught me by the arm and his touch awakened every sense. My mind had drifted while Chapin had touched me moments ago, but with Tuck every wiring, every thought, every impulse zeroed in exactly where the heat of his flesh met my own. What was this between us? It felt like a dark, wicked magic, lacing its grip around my body and mind.

  “He’s an asshole, Jewel.”

  “I could have made that call.”

  “Let me guess, he asked you to go to his beach house?”

  “So what if he did? Weren’t you telling me to cut loose? Live a little?”

  “Not with him.”

/>   “Tuck!” I threw my hands up in frustration and pulled away, angry at him and angry at myself for all the crazy pushes and pulls I had inside of me. “I’m not yours!” He didn’t get to boss me around. He was right, I needed to start finding my own voice, making my own choices not so bound up with fear. I hadn’t wanted to go off with Chapin, not really, but Tuck didn’t get to make that decision for me.

  His strong hand wrapped around my arm again and before I knew what was happening he pulled me into the pool house. Door shut, lights off, only a dim glimmer from the twinkling party lights shone through the window. We were alone in the dark.

  He had me up against the wall in seconds flat, pinning my wrists over my head like I’d imagined him doing so many times. The way I’d seen him fuck in New York. He trapped me, dominant, holding me there so he could do anything he wanted. In the dark, quiet room away from the party all I could hear was our breathing, heavy, together.

  I twisted under his grip. “Tuck, don’t.” He tightened his hold on me with one hand, but drew down the other, caressing my skin, so much exposed, down my arm, the side of my breast. I shivered under his touch.

  “The thing is, Jewel, when you wear silk…” So soft, liquid heat, he caressed the side of my breast lightly with the back of his hand. I didn’t know how he could touch me so gently, so whisper light, all that power held back. It made me want more.

  “You reveal so much,” he continued, stroking the silk now, making me feel the slippery fabric against my skin. “And when you wear no bra under that silk…” Slowly he traced the lower swell of my breasts. “I can see how much you want me, Jewel.”

  Panting, I looked down and saw my nipples, hard and peaked and needy pushing against the silk. Undeniable, unmistakable arousal. Transfixed, I watched him draw closer, teasing me, stroking and gently kneading my breasts in his hands, still not touching my nipples. I needed him to touch them.

  “When I touch you the way you want, will you say no? Or will you make one of those moans that drives me crazy?” Finally, his fingers at my aching tips, he rolled my nipples between his thick fingers. I swear I could feel his rough callouses through the thin, slippery silk. It shot right down to my pussy, slick heat building in me there, readying for him. With a sudden twist, he pinched my nipple, hard. Lips parted, I tried to bite back a moan but I couldn’t. It felt so wicked, so surprising, hot and intense. As soon as he did it, he stopped, back to stroking, gentle, coaxing. I cooed under his touch, melting into him.

  “That’s it, Jewel. Show me how you feel.” He kept speaking as he trailed a burning path down my silk dress, down my stomach, to my thighs. “Show me what you want. What you need.”

  With my last few shreds of sanity, I managed, “we shouldn’t do this. Someone might see us. ”

  “No? I shouldn’t do this?” Up between my bare legs now, he teased my inner thighs, stroking, petting.

  “We could get caught,” I whispered but I couldn’t think any more, I could only feel the shuddering heat building in me, the sweep of his fingers. The way he trapped my wrists I couldn’t stop him, couldn’t push him away and it liberated me, freed me to close my eyes and need. Nothing existed but him, his fingers, his hot mouth down on my neck, licking my throat.

  “Do you want me, Jewel?” With his teeth he bit me lightly, in the hollow of my throat. I cried out in a painful burst of pleasure. “Or do you wish you were with Chapin?”

  “No!” I couldn’t help saying, of course not, of course I didn’t want to be with him. All I could think about was Tuck, when I touched myself, when I daydreamed and fantasized, which I seemed to do all the time now.

  “What will I find when I touch your pussy, Jewel?” So close, his fingers played next to my panties, inches away from my throbbing, slippery sex. “Will you be wet for me?” He brushed my upper thighs and I whimpered, desperate, knowing what he’d discover, needing him to find it. “Will your pussy be soaking wet and ready for me?”

  Finally, he slipped his fingers up and drew them along the lace strip of my panties. I moaned, long and low in my throat.

  Groaning, he dropped his head against my shoulder. I could feel the heaving labor of his breaths, the coiled tension ripping through him. “Wet,” he hissed, almost to himself, as if he couldn’t believe the treasure he had found. “So fucking wet.”

  He tore aside my panties, ripping them right off of me. They didn’t put up much protest, they were the kind designed to reveal more than they covered.

  “Oh God,” he exhaled heavy into my hair, his fingers along my pussy, searching, moving, stroking, taking my juices and spreading it across my petals, touching me as if I were the most perfect creation he’d ever felt. “You’re so wet and bare. For me.” With a growl of possession, he sank his thick finger up inside of me.

  “Tuck!” I called out as he penetrated me, up inside the walls of my sex. Eyes closed, head back against the wall, I could feel every inch of his large finger, slowly easing out, then back up again, building, stoking. I parted my legs more, wanting this, needing this so much I didn’t know if I could stand up if he weren’t holding me there, pinning me against the wall.

  “So wet, Jewel.” He kept his rhythm, slowly working me in and out, then bringing his thumb to my swollen clit, starting to caress it, stroke it, press against it. I started working with him, moving my hips to take more of him in. I wanted more, more friction, more pressure and I bucked against his hand.

  “You want more, Jewel?” His whispered voice, so hot and forbidden, making me drenched. I moaned with need.

  “Tell me, Jewel.” He stroked me, still so deliberate and controlled though I started to feel frantic, desperate, wild. I couldn’t take much more of this, my entire body on fire, enflamed by his touch. “Tell me you need more.”

  “More, Tuck!” I cried out, bucking against his hand. “Please more, I need more!”

  “Yes,” he hissed, victorious, giving me my reward, two fingers plunged up deep inside the walls of my pussy.

  “Ah! Oh!” I moaned. I’d never felt anything so good. Nothing I’d ever done to myself had ever brought me this high, this hot and crazy. Yet even as I nearly went insane he kept his rhythm, stroking me slowly, in and out while I shook and shuddered and thrust against him.

  “Who makes you wet, Jewel?” he whispered, wicked, in my ear.

  In the darkness of the pool house, just the two of us, I could confess. “You, Tuck.” It felt so good.

  “Say it, Jewel.” He kept stroking me, in and out with his huge fingers, his thumb on my clit, swirling, teasing, heating me. “Let me hear you tell me.”

  He wanted me to give in, to confess it all and right then I needed to. I couldn’t hold back any more. “You make me wet, Tuck.”

  He growled with satisfaction, ownership. “Yes, Jewel. I make you wet.” And he did exactly what he said, fucking me with his fingers as he worked my clit, over and over, relentless, now with more pressure, faster and harder. Sounds came from my throat, needy and helpless, the heat inside me pooling and building.

  “You’re mine, Jewel. Whether you want it or not.” Panting, twisting, writhing, I knew what he said was true. I couldn’t deny it. “Feel my fingers up inside of you,” he commanded and I obeyed, shuddering. It felt so good with him owning me, fucking me with his fingers, taking me.

  In a low, demanding voice he instructed, “Think about how good it’s going to feel when it’s my cock. You’re tight and I’m going to stretch you. But you’re going to take me all in, aren’t you, Jewel?”

  “Yes!” I screamed, mad with it, unable to stand how crazy his words made me, how much I wanted what he just described. He plunged his two fingers up inside me as he spoke and I could feel myself at the edge, shuddering, quivering, about to let everything go as he said, “I’m going to fuck you deep with my cock.”

  “Tuck!” I cried out, so ready, whimpering with need.

  “Now come all over my fingers,” Tuck commanded.

  “Ah!” I screamed out and Tuck took h
is hand from my wrists and wrapped it, hard, around my mouth so I could scream like I needed to, unleashed, wild as my orgasm erupted, bursting out, exploding all through my body like fireworks shooting electricity into every inch of me. I shook and bucked and cried out his name again and again, coming onto his fingers, shattering, melting, my juices trickling down my thighs and covering his hand.

  “Jewel,” he groaned as my waves slowly started to subside. He brought his fingers away from my quivering mound, drawing them up to his mouth. Sticky and glistening with my juices, he sucked them into his luscious mouth, tasting me as if I were the finest delicacy in the world.

  “Jewel.” He brought his forehead down to my own and we stood in the dark, panting. I felt disembodied, unaware of anything but him, our heat, melting together.

  In a quieter voice, not teasing or tempting or commanding me now, but confessing, he whispered, “You kill me.”

  CHAPTER 18

  Tuck

  Sunday brunch with the parents. I sat there hulking and frustrated, grunting responses to the few questions my father sent my way. Jewel sat at the end of the table looking skittish and fragile and fucking perfect. I wanted to wrap her in my arms, haul her upstairs and spend the rest of the day tasting her, biting into her, licking her, coaxing out those same noises she’d made last night in the pool house.

  Our parents were leaving again tomorrow. They’d be in New York, mostly the Hamptons. Seeming to delight in their impulsiveness, they told us they weren’t sure when they’d be back, maybe a week but it could be more or could be less.

  Fucking great. I wanted them out of the house, obviously, but never knowing when they’d be back? That wouldn’t work for what I had planned. I wanted Jewel stripped naked for days on end, helpless underneath me as I ate her, fucked her. I wanted her screaming out wild, no hand over her mouth so I could hear every last gasp of her desire, every pant of need. We were going to explode and I wanted it full throttle, nothing held back.