But Monday and Tuesday, even with our parents out of the house, Jewel did her avoidance thing. She didn’t want to be alone with me and she was right. I was prowling around the house like a hungry panther, ready to grab her the second she let her guard down.
It pissed me off, her avoiding me, but I’d seen it before. She’d pull away, but she’d come back. She always did. She didn’t want to, but she needed this as much as I did. Something this strong would not be denied.
Lucky for her, I wasn’t around that often either. My big exhibition fight was in five days, on Saturday night. I needed to focus, pour myself into training.
Wednesday morning I found her in the kitchen, making her yogurt and berries. She wore yoga tights and a jog bra, her hair piled up on top of her head. From the way I’d seen her twist, I knew she was flexible. Her legs would spread so wide for me. They could probably go right up over her head while I fucked her hard.
Startled, the first thing she said when she saw me was, “I was just heading out.”
“I have a fight Saturday.” I hadn’t had a chance to invite her yet. I wanted her by my side, before and after, and right out where I could see her by the cage during it all.
“This Saturday?” She turned around, eyes wide. “Is it the big one?” I nodded in confirmation. “Are you OK? Have you been training for it this week?”
“I’ve been training for it all summer.” I gave her a crooked smile. She was pretty cute when she let herself worry over me.
“What if our parents get home before then? Will your dad try to stop you?”
“He doesn’t have a clue.” I brushed off her concern. My first amateur MMA fight over a year and a half ago I’d been nervous, looking over my shoulder, somehow expecting my old man to come charging into the gym and call the fight off. Since then I’d realized how off his radar this all was. It was one thing if I started an underground fight club at school. That threatened his world. This was a whole different planet entirely, one in such a wildly remote orbit he didn’t even know it existed.
“But doesn’t your name ever come up? Like the last exhibition fight when you won?”
“Crusher won,” I reminded her. “The Helmsworth name doesn’t come near the cage.” I paused, giving her a smile. “My father wouldn’t hear of it.” She smiled back at me. I don’t know why, but I felt like she got me, the way no one ever had. Maybe no one else ever would.
Then she slipped out the door to her marine mammals. And I pounded it out at the gym, taking everything out on my sparring partners who wished like hell they’d been matched up with another guy instead of me. My drive knew no bounds.
Thursday, dinnertime, I came home to Jewel and a mousy little friend of hers cooking in the kitchen. Like she thought another person there between us could keep her safe.
“Hi!” Her friend left a trail of drool out of her mouth as she stood there, marveling over me, shirtless and sweaty from a workout. Jewel barely looked around, annoyed at my presence. I’d see if I could get her attention.
“Hey, how are you?” I reached over and wrapped her friend’s hand in mine. “What’s your name?”
She looked down where I touched her as if she’d never seen hands before. She looked up. “Huh?”
“What’s your name?” I repeated, patient. She wore thick glasses and held her hair back with barrettes, the kind you sometimes saw little kids wearing.
“Mu..fa..a.” Her tongue seemed to be thick.
“Maria,” Jewel snapped, stirring the pasta on the stove with vigor. “Her name’s Maria. I think the sauce over here needs your attention, Maria.”
Maria paid her no mind. Her eyes traveled down the length of my chest, making their way past my pecs, down my abs to the v at my waistband. Poor thing, she didn’t seem to know what had hit her.
“I’m Tuck,” I offered, giving her a smile. Her eyes widened as she saw it, looking shocked as if she hadn’t known I could do that, too. “How do you know Jewel?”
“We work together,” Jewel answered quickly. “Now don’t you have something you need to go do, Tuck? Like put on a shirt?”
“No, he doesn’t need to do that,” Maria answered, shaking her head slowly, rapt in her admiration.
Later on after I’d showered and, yes, put on a shirt, I headed back down and found Jewel by herself, sitting poolside with a glass of sparkling water.
“Maria’s coming back,” she warned me as I was about to sit next to her. “She’s just in the bathroom.”
“She’ll be sorry she missed me.”
“So full of yourself.” She shook her head.
“What, am I wrong?” She couldn’t deny it. “So are you coming to my fight Saturday?”
“Yes,” she answered, suddenly sounding shy.
“I’ll have a car take us over, five o’clock.”
“Really, together?” She looked at me, surprised. I nodded.
“And how about tomorrow night? Will you be around?”
She shrugged, so casual. “I might go see a movie.”
“With Mike?” I asked, tensing up.
“Maybe.”
Like hell she was. “Tomorrow night, let’s play some poker, Jewel.” She looked up at me and met my eyes, heat there the same as me.
Maria returned and stumbled when she saw me. I gave her my seat and bid them good night. I’d see Jewel tomorrow.
§
Friday night when I came home she was in the pool. Swimming laps, looking sleek and supple, her hair cascaded down around her, wet and long like a freaking mermaid.
I stood at the side as she came up for air.
“Oh!” She brought her hand to her chest. “I didn’t see you come in!” She wore a one-piece suit, I could see through the water. Of course she had a one-piece. A sensible swimming tank had never looked so good. I could see her breasts fill out the top, mashed together, her cleavage there asking for my tongue.
“Poker, eight o’clock,” I told her, leaving to go get cleaned up. I had a woman to seduce tonight. She seemed to like me sweaty from a workout as much as she did freshly shaven and in a tux, and I liked that about her. But tonight I wanted to bring my A game, reel her in, work her up until she was begging for me. She was a virgin, after all. I’d claim her, take her, but I wanted to savor it. The end result would be the same, but tonight I’d make her feel treasured, worshipped, adored. I’d see if I couldn’t give her the best orgasm of her life.
Eight o’clock I was waiting for her down in the living room, shuffling the deck of cards. She showed up, shy and pretty in a light t-shirt and yoga pants. I liked how she’d clearly taken some time with her appearance, but not too much, like she could still act casual. Like I hadn’t had my fingers up inside of her making her come last weekend. I’d let her play pretend. For now.
“Hey,” she said, sitting down beside me on the couch. I could see her taking me in, the crisp clean shirt, the fresh pair of jeans. I wasn’t dressed for a black tie gala, but I’d cleaned up for her and she knew it. I could smell her next to me, lavender and Jewel, her hair freshly washed and curling down her shoulders in rich, auburn waves.
“Are you ready?” I asked, shuffling again.
“Bring it!” She smiled, watching me start to deal. “What are the stakes?”
“Tonight’s different.” I looked at her, wolfish. “Tonight we’re playing strip poker.”
“What?” She drew back. “No.”
“Scared?”
“No.”
“Afraid I’ll win?”
“You won’t win.”
“Then what are you afraid of?”
She seemed to think about it, then her face lit up and she giggled. “OK, just give me a second.” She ran off.
A few minutes later she came back down with a whole new getup. Large sunhat, sunglasses, a cardigan sweater, socks and shoes, she looked like a crazy hoarder lady who liked to wear all of her possessions at one time.
“Ready!” she exclaimed, giggling and proud of herself.
“Nice look on you.” I assessed her layers. I probably had to win nine or ten hands to get to the promised land. It was going to take a lot of work. But I had the motivation.
I won the first two hands. Off came the hat and sunglasses. Jewel still twinkled with mischief, confident in her strategy. Then she won a hand. I stood up and unbuttoned my shirt. I did it slowly, liking the way her gaze stayed fixed on my hands, as if she highly anticipated the next button coming undone. I shrugged out of it, now wearing just a tight white t-shirt. Her eyes went to the tattoo on my bicep and I couldn’t help it, I flexed a little and got rewarded by her reaction, her eyes going a little bit wider, her hand fisting in the couch cushion. She’d really need something to hold on to later. I was going to take her on a wild ride.
I sat back down. I won the next three hands. Off came the shoes, the socks, the sweater. Now she just had on her t-shirt and yoga pants. Plus her bra and panties. I couldn’t wait to see what she had on. And then watch her take them off.
I liked seeing her grow more nervous as she lost, removing each layer. Unbuttoning the cardigan, I could see her hands shaking. If she didn’t want me, it wouldn’t be sexy, I wouldn’t want any part of it. But I knew the shaking was anticipation, excitement, eagerness. She wanted this, badly.
She won the next round and I took off my shirt. I stood before her, my bare chest close enough to touch, and I could tell she itched to do just that. She swallowed, unable to not gaze at me, take me in. I sat down closer to her, my leg against hers.
Agitated as she was, she didn’t do very well bluffing. I could see right through her. She chose to remove her shirt first. She stood up and took her time, not with the practiced flirtatiousness of some of the girls I’d played strip poker with. It was different with Jewel. She fumbled with her shirt, looked down because she really was shy. She really hadn’t been with many men, none with real intimacy. I would be her first. It drove me wild.
She drew her t-shirt up and over her head and I felt the wind nearly knocked out of my chest. Her tits filled her cups, a demure white bra, sweet with lace fringe. Her breasts looked like two luscious scoops, lifting up and out, larger than I’d even pictured and believe me, I’d pictured them many, many times. She might be a D-cup under all of those layers. I licked my lips. I’d need a long time with those tits, days and nights, licking, sucking, taking my time, learning exactly what she liked, teaching her things she didn’t even know she liked yet. I bet she liked it rough and nasty. I wouldn’t start there, though. No, tonight I’d make it sweet.
She quivered as she sat next to me and folded her next hand almost instantly. She had nothing, no defenses against me and she knew it. Sticking her thumbs down the waistband of her yoga pants, she slid them off quick. She sat right back down, nervous, but not before I caught a flash of white silk panties. Matching, bikini style. I couldn’t wait to feel how wet she was underneath them.
I let her win the next round. It was fun to let it build up. I unbuckled my jeans, unzipped them. My cock stood out hard and long against my briefs. She sucked in her breath as she saw it, my size and stark arousal clearly shocking her. I was a large man, about nine inches, and I planned to drive every inch deep into her slick, quivering pussy. She could take me, I knew she could and she’d love doing it.
I stepped out of my jeans and sat down next to her. She had a difficult time keeping her eyes on her cards. My hard-on pressed against the stretchy cotton of my briefs. You could see its outline, the thick head, the outline of the crown and the tip. I wanted her to look, to think about it, to want.
Her breasts heaved with her breathing, her beautiful creamy mounds shivering at my nearness. That bra had to come off.
I won the next hand, quickly, easily, and she looked up at me.
“Take it off,” I said, deep in my throat, thick with need. Slowly, but without protest, without hesitation, she drew her hands around to the back of her bra. Unclasped, the straps slipped down her shoulders and her breasts spilled out free. I drank her in, her nipples hardening under the heat of my gaze. Inches away, I could tell she was dying for my touch, my tongue. I wanted to lick every inch, sink my teeth into those quivering mounds, hear her cry out and arch her back, mashing her tits into my face as she begged for more.
We played another round. I won.
“All of it,” I told her.
She looked at me shyly, heated. Slowly, she brought her thumbs to her panties. She stood up, then slid them down along her thighs to her ankles and she stepped out.
She stood there shaking before me. Her pussy was glistening. I could smell her sweet, musky need, see her lips gleaming with arousal. I needed to taste.
With a growl, I wrapped my hand around her waist and pulled her down on the couch. She gasped and parted her legs, needing this, dying for this. Like a starving man finding a meal, I descended on her, my lips hot and wet on her quivering mound. She cried out at first contact, her hands flying up as I devoured her with hot, needy licks, lapping up her juices. Exploring her, I spread her folds with my fingers for more access.
“So sweet,” I groaned as I sucked her clit, taking the swollen bud into my mouth, swirling it with my tongue. She threw her head back and screamed again. I wanted to hear those screams, loud and strong and desperate all night. I felt like a hungry panther with a fresh kill, all mine, and I lapped her up, licking and sucking and biting her sensitive flesh as she panted and spread her legs wider.
She moaned as I went deeper, dipping my tongue into her, fucking her with it. I’d never tasted anything so good, never wanted anything more. She brought her hands down to my hair, grabbing at me, clutching, pushing me closer. She bucked her hips, grinding her sex into my mouth, unable to stop herself.
I cupped her ass with my hands and mashed my face in, fucking her with my tongue as she screamed. She was close now. I could feel it in the way she thrust against me, rhythmic, the guttural grunts coming out of her throat. I wanted her that way, my Jewel, a ravaged animal, consumed with need.
Looking up, I nearly came myself from what I saw, her head thrown back, skin flushed pink and glistening with sweat, her tits thrust up, nipples tight with need. Oh what I’d do to this woman. All the ways we’d play, all the ways I’d make her come. But right now, she’d come on my tongue, all over my face.
“Come,” I growled, into her pussy. “Now.” I took her clit in my lips and sucked hard.
Screaming, the orgasm wracked her, and she bucked and shuddered against me, her hands flailing and grasping at the couch.
“Tuck! Ah!” She screamed and came on my face. I licked up all of her creamy juice, licking and groaning and licking some more. I wanted every last drop.
Slowly, her screams subsided, her shaking slowed, and she rested her ass back down into my hands on the couch. It was like watching her float down out of a dream, coming down gently and softly as I kissed her now, kissed her sweet, tender flesh and the softness of her inner thighs.
“Mine,” I growled into her. I heard her sigh in complete agreement.
CHAPTER 19
Jewel
I woke up in my bed, glowing, shattered, thrilled and not a small amount shocked. What had happened last night? I remembered us down on the couch, the strip poker. How Tuck had descended on me like a hungry lion, eating me out. I’d never experienced anything like that before.
I had such little experience with all of this. Before last night, I’d thought of a guy going down on a girl as something vaguely gross. How could a man possibly want to do that? How could you ever relax with that kind of weirdness going on?
Funny, nothing resembling those thoughts had gone through my head last night. Not for a single second. In fact, I’d pretty much had no thoughts in my head but more, yes, more, now.
This morning I felt luscious, so relaxed and warm, like I’d slept on a bed of cream for two weeks. I should feel a heavy, oppressive blanket of shame covering me from head to toe. I’d let my stepbrother do what? So wrong! But no, I didn’t. I stretched an
d yawned, content and satisfied. It felt so right. The only question needling into my glow was what was I doing in my bed alone after all that had happened?
I remembered after the couch Tuck had scooped me up in his arms and carried me up to my bed. Then he’d done it again, his head down between my legs while I screamed for him with complete abandon. He’d taken longer the second time around. Torturing me with his tongue, slowly licking, sucking. When I’d start to get close he’d remove all his heat and pressure to gently kiss my inner thighs.
“More,” I’d begged, pleaded. “More, please.”
He’d made me say please on more than one occasion.
A blush flooded my cheeks, stole down my body. Oh, Tuck, what he’d made me feel. I’d gone from shy and inexperienced to coming full and hard on his face. Twice.
Then I must have fallen asleep! I covered my face in my hands. How romantic of me. The man drove me wild, brought me right up to the edge again and again and then cascading over it. Twice. What did I offer in return? I’d passed out.
I hoped I hadn’t snored and drooled.
In my defense, what normal person could be expected to withstand that kind of attack? I was a virgin, for goodness sake. Still was. I’d never experienced anything even remotely like what happened last night. That second time in my bed, it had felt like hours. He’d licked and sucked, teased me, loving how I panted and writhed, how he could make me nearly lose control. How deeply, completely, fully I surrendered everything to him.
I couldn’t fight it anymore now. Now I was his. It felt so good. I’d struggled with it for so long, denying it, tamping it down. All that had done was make it grow stronger. Even after last night when I’d finally let go, I felt the fire in me burning even brighter.
Tuck had a fight tonight. Yesterday he’d asked me to drive over with him, or he’d told me those were the plans. Tuck, always so gruff and commanding but I’d seen glimpses last night of something more. It was strange. Even as he completely dominated me, stripped me down literally and figuratively and I lay there entirely vulnerable, I’d see a look in his eyes, like he felt stripped down, himself.
Off Limits: A Stepbrother MMA Romance Page 17