Off Limits: A Stepbrother MMA Romance

by Harper, Callie

  When I got home, Jewel was out doing yoga by the pool. She’d missed her morning session today because I’d had my cock up in her until she’d had to run out the door to work. I stood in the kitchen and watched her move, so fluid, so graceful and flexible. In a week I wouldn’t see her do that anymore.

  Jogging up to my room, I grabbed something out of my closet. I had something I wanted to try with Jewel. After all, I needed to make the most of our time together. Back down in the kitchen, I slid open the glass door and stepped out into the yard. Candice and Leland were there, bickering poolside. She seemed pretty lit. Just because you were wearing expensive clothes and lounging poolside didn’t mean you weren’t a stinking drunk. My mother had taught me that.

  My father looked up. His main interest saving face, as usual, he stepped away from Candice. “How’s that internship, boy?”

  “Great, Pop.” I had no problem lying to him.

  “They’re going easy on you. Letting you see daylight. You’re even able to get in a workout.”

  “You know how it is, summer time.”

  He turned back to Candice and helped her up, supporting her weight as they walked in the house. Trouble in paradise. That was their problem.

  All my interest was targeted on the girl over on the yoga mat, flowing through yoga poses in a tiny little jogging bra and fitted shorts. I sat on a lounger and watched her move, my cock hardening with every stretch, every twist, every arch.

  Finally, she finished, sitting cross-legged and looking up at me with a smile, her auburn hair spilling out of a loose ponytail, cascading in tendrils around her face.

  “Pool house,” I mouthed to her, my eyes heavy and hot. I walked over to it, leaving the door open. A minute or two later, she followed.

  I had her up against the wall in seconds, trapping her there with my huge body. Grasping her wrists in my hands, I roughly pulled them up over her head. I took the tie I’d grabbed from my closet and bound her wrists together, tight. She gasped as I did it, eyes round and wide. There was a hook on the wall for hanging pool supplies. I brought her over and bound her to it.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, looking a little nervous, twisting against the restraints. “What if our parents saw us come in here?”

  “I’ve tied you up, Jewel.” I loved the look of her standing there, breathing hard, bound, with her hands up over her head. She’d evaded me for so long, avoiding, denying. Now I had her exactly where I wanted her, helpless and vulnerable. “Now I can do anything I want with you,” I murmured, low and wicked, stroking her upstretched arms. She shivered at my touch, a soft moan escaping her lips.

  I found a pair of garden shears and brought them over to her. In a quick, strong motion I cut her bra off of her. Her tits spilled out, jiggling as she gasped. “Tuck!” She couldn’t bring her hands up to cover herself. She was tied there for my pleasure.

  I threw the shears to the side, thrust my hands down the waistband of her shorts and yanked them off. Even better, now she stood completely naked, stripped down for me, my shy, bookish stepsister, quivering with nervous anticipation and arousal.

  “I could play with you all night,” I teased her, still not touching, just admiring her vulnerability, her curves. She pulled against her bound hands, writhing there for me against the wall.

  Dipping down with just one finger, I parted her thighs and pushed inside her glistening pussy. “Be a good girl, Jewel,” I admonished her as her lips parted. She started to pant and moan as I moved my finger, slowly, in and out of her quivering slit.

  “You can’t scream,” I continued. “No matter what I do. You don’t want to get caught.” I stroked her and watched every emotion flickering across her beautiful face. Then I knelt down to suck and lick, teething her swollen clit. She came fast and hard, her hands bound up over her head, trapped and all mine for the taking, again and again. I couldn’t get enough.

  As long as I kept her there, captive, quivering and moaning and shuddering at my touch, neither of us would have to think about anything else. We wouldn’t have to think about reality, our parents, our futures. We wouldn’t consider what a fragile house of cards we’d built together and how quickly, how easily it could all collapse with just one false move.

  CHAPTER 25

  Jewel

  It was our last week together. I felt like a drunk, but that wasn’t it. I didn’t have enough experience with drugs to know what to compare it to. Speed? Crack? Something that amped me up, kept me awake at night, sped up my heartbeat and made me not care about anything else. Reckless. Wild. Taking chances.

  We’d had so many close calls, sharing a house with our parents while we went at it, leaving no corner, no counter, no wall unclaimed. The house was big, but not that big, and I couldn’t believe we hadn’t been caught. I’d never been so wild in my life, but even as I frightened myself I became more bold. Every hit just made me crave another. I couldn’t get enough of him.

  We only had seven days left. My internship ended on Friday. I had a plane flight back to Massachusetts on Saturday. I’d bought the return trip back when I couldn’t wait for the summer to end. I’d thought I’d never make it through, that every day would be painful. Now I felt pain over it ending so soon. My heart clenched when I thought about not seeing Tuck, flying thousands of miles away. How could I go a day without tasting him? His skin against my skin, mingling our scents, our heat?

  I could barely remember how I’d felt about him at first. Sure, I’d thought he was hot since the second I’d first laid eyes on him, but I’d dismissed him as a spoiled brat. I’d thought he was nothing more than a player, not worth my time. During the summer when I’d seen the changes in him, direct evidence every day of his character, how hard he worked, the discipline, the self-control, the brute strength, my lust had spiked. With animal attraction, every feminine fiber of my being had responded to his driving, pounding maleness. I’d craved being around him. But now it was becoming even more than that.

  It wasn’t just the mind-bending, body-shattering, toe-curling orgasms he gave me over and over again. Those were addictive, don’t get me wrong, but it was all of him. His flash of humor when I’d least expect it, teasing me, making an observation only I would understand. His brief moments of vulnerability, a look in his eyes, the way he held me as if he never wanted to let me go. I’d never expected him to be so observant, so intuitive. I let myself go completely around him, in every way imaginable. He’d broken down my defenses, every one, physical, emotional. And it felt incredible.

  I’d never just been myself around someone before, completely myself. My friends from school knew my studious side, my intellectual curiosity, my academic drive. But there was also my mother, complicated, fucked-up Candice whom of course I loved even with all the crazy, frightening tilt-o-whirl rides she’d dragged me around on. But the people who knew her, her few friends who weathered the storms, the men who came in and out of her life, the career-related make-up artists and stylists and agents, they didn’t really know me. I’d always felt schismed, broken, too fucked up for anyone to get close to.

  Parents’ weekend at college, my roommate’s dad would show up, a professor at MIT, arm-in-arm with her mom, the head of a foundation providing aid to war refugees. Smart, well-dressed, in their element, they’d tour around the campus, reminiscing over their own college days. I’d shrink into myself over those weekends, realizing just how huge a gulf separated me from the rest of my peers. We might get along during study sessions, have fun grabbing a frozen yogurt during exam week. But we’d never really click, me with my mother who’d had me at 18 and partied her way through the tabloids for years on end.

  With Tuck, it was different. He knew everything about me. He knew I didn’t know my father, my mother was a crazy drunk lady, I hid behind old sweatsuits and glasses and liked playing poker for lunch money more than going out Friday night with the cool kids. And he couldn’t get enough of me. He looked at me like I was a fantasy come to life, like he couldn’t believe he got t
o spend time with me. The way he wanted to possess me, make me his, I’d never dreamed it could feel that way.

  And I realized he felt something similar. Surrounded by his father’s wealth and his privileged, prep school network on the one hand, pulled by his passion for fighting on the other, I got the feeling he’d never met anyone who’d gotten to know him completely, either.

  That night we lay together, not sated, not done with each other, but resting, giving each other a chance to catch our breaths. We knew no bounds. Each time he took me he stoked my fires hotter and I wanted him more. It was as if I lived on the air he breathed.

  As we lay there, I asked him question after question, about the boarding schools he’d gone to, his friends, what it felt like during a fight, what he put in his hideous green and black protein shakes. I wanted to know all of it, every last bit about him.

  “You sure you don’t want to major in journalism?” he asked me, placing a teasing kiss on my hair.

  “I just want to get to know you,” I explained, snuggling into his huge, warm chest, his scent intoxicating me as always.

  “You know me.” Tuck stroked my back, leisurely, reassuringly. He understood how I’d distrusted him at first, his playboy ways, the consummate lothario I’d seen in action over spring break. “You know me better than anyone ever has.” It felt like my heart was too big for my chest when he said things like that. Like I’d never be able to tell him how much he meant to me.

  “And I think you might be the smartest, toughest person I’ve ever known,” he went on, kissing my hair as he said it.

  “What?”

  “I mean it. I don’t think I’ve ever really thanked you for kicking my ass back in New York.”

  “You mean when I chewed you out?” I still felt like maybe I’d gone a bit overboard.

  “Exactly. You held a mirror up to my face, Jewel. I’d never be where I am today if it weren’t for you.”

  But for a girl who’d always relied on having a clear path in front of her, always kept fixed on the brass ring of college acceptance and academic scholarship, this was major uncharted territory. When I was with him, I could let myself go and just enjoy it. But when I wasn’t with him, I worried. What was this happening between us? What did it mean to him? What kind of a future did we have, confined in this fucked-up family with our parents? Even if that broke apart—and I had no doubt that it would, I could already trace the downward arc of my mother’s emotions—what could Tuck and I mean to each other?

  I kept picturing those ring girls, the ones offering so much for so very little in return. I knew he was about to blow up huge, how could he not? The MMA world would love him, huge and gorgeous and covered in tats as he dominated in the cage. People would have posters of him up in their rooms.

  When I was with him, all worries fell to the wayside. No anxiety could creep in between us, not with the way he held me, cherished me. And when I wasn’t with him, I did my best to trust, relax and enjoy, even if I was shit at it. Even if the steady drumbeat of our uncertain future kept pounding in my ears, louder and louder with each passing day.

  §

  Tuesday night, I was reading in my room, passing the time when my phone blipped with a text.

  My place or yours?

  I smiled. He was home. Quiet, I tiptoed down to his bedroom. Our parents were home, but they were out poolside last I saw them, bickering as they seemed to do more and more these days.

  Tuck stood there, shirtless, his eyes burning with passionate need. He was so fucking delicious, I couldn’t believe I got to touch him, taste him. Those tattoos twisting along his hard muscles, the V down low in his abdomen, right above his shorts. I’d had to look and not touch for so long, now, restraints off, I felt feverish and wild.

  Kneeling down at his feet, I pulled off my nightshirt with one swoop. I wasn’t wearing any panties, just how he liked. I looked up at him, naked and ready to serve his needs.

  “I want to suck you,” I whispered, pulling his waistband down his hips until his glorious, huge cock sprang free.

  “Fuck, Jewel!” he groaned, watching my every move, transfixed, mesmerized. Slowly, I grasped his length in both my hands and, looking up into his eyes, I licked my lips. Then I sucked his thick crown into my wet mouth, moaning with pleasure.

  He threw his head back. “Ah, yes!”

  “Mmm.” I sucked and licked. I wanted him to love this as much as I did. I wanted to show him how much I craved every inch of him.

  Relaxing my throat, I took him in deep. I moaned as he fisted my hair in his fingers. He guided me, in and out in rhythm, fucking my mouth. My sex grew slick, dripping with need.

  “I want to come inside you,” he grunted, pulling out from my wet lips with a pop. He pushed me onto the bed on all fours, angling me so I rested down on my elbows, my ass tilted up.

  With one long, hard stroke he claimed me, entering into my soaking, quivering hole, plunging in thick and full. I felt the orgasm flood me, engulfing every sense in burning, molten pleasure, shuddering against him as he continued pounding me through every wave.

  “That’s it. Come on my cock, baby,” he praised me and already, like it always was with Tuck, I could feel the need building up in me again. Always desperate, always clawing at me, always ready to burst into flame.

  Grunting, groaning, I took him all the way in, loving how rough he was with me, how he grabbed my hips hard and forced his way into me again and again, fucking, pounding. He had to have almost a hundred pounds on me and he used them, battering into me like a ram. I loved it, losing my mind in the raw, animal pleasure of it.

  Smack, his hand came down sharp on my bare ass as he rutted into me, fast and hard, reaching the frantic rhythm he sought right before he came. Smack, he spanked me again and I could feel an orgasm coil up, ready and waiting near the surface, waiting for his release. Smack, his palm came down hard again on my sensitive flesh and I cried out, needing him to shoot his load in me, dying for his come.

  “You like that?” he asked me, raw and harsh.

  “Yes!” I screamed, bucking into him, taking more of him in. I could feel him tense, like a taut spring waiting to release.

  “You like how hard I fuck you?” he grunted, pounding into me.

  “Nice.” A voice from the doorway. I didn’t register what was happening, only that Tuck froze above me.

  “Fucking your sister. I’d expect no less,” the voice continued. Leland, I realized, cold dread flooding my veins. My stepfather, standing at the door.

  “Fuck you,” Tuck replied. Then I lost his heat, contact with him, as he pulled out and away. In a panic, I grabbed the covers and tried to roll under them and hide myself.

  “So eloquent, as always.” Leland’s voice dripped with venom. “Apparently the internship isn’t the only thing you’ve been lying to me about all summer. You’ve added incest to the list.”

  “Fuck off!” Tuck bellowed. I drew the covers up over my face, shaking. This couldn’t be happening.

  “Clean up,” I heard Leland say. “Then come downstairs and explain yourself.”

  He closed the door behind him. I hadn’t heard it open. Had I left it open myself, so eager, when I’d flung myself at Tuck? Of course this had happened.

  “Oh shit! Oh my God!” I rocked myself under the covers, full-on panicking.

  “It’s OK, baby. It’s going to be OK.” Tuck came to me, wrapping an arm underneath my shoulders.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” I burst out. “This is a nightmare!” I felt so cheap, so disgusting. Incest, he’d used the word “incest.” I’d never felt so ashamed. I didn’t think I could take enough scalding showers to wash this feeling off of me.

  “Don’t let him do this to us,” Tuck growled. “Don’t let him.”

  “He’s right, he’s right,” I bawled, overcome. “This is so wrong.”

  Tuck’s fist landed in a pile of pillows. “Fuck!” he yelled, outraged. “I won’t let him take you away from me!”

  That
wasn’t what was happening. I wasn’t some Christmas toy his father gave him then tried to take back. I felt like I was going to vomit. Sitting up, I fumbled around for my nightshirt. Whore that I was, I hadn’t worn any panties. Guess that made getting dressed go quicker. See, every catastrophe had a silver lining.

  “Where are you going?” he asked, eyes wild, his hands balled into fists.

  “I think I’m going to be sick.” I pushed my hand over my mouth and ran to the bathroom.

  “Fuck!” I could hear him roar as I made it to the toilet, throwing up violently, retching as if my body was rejecting itself. Shaking and crying, I splashed cold water over my face at the sink. Outside I heard Tuck’s footsteps along the hall and down the stairs. I guessed he was going down to have it out with his father. Holy shit this couldn’t be happening.

  I needed to get out of there. I just needed to pull myself together enough to get out of the house. Barely able to string together a coherent thought, I made it over to my room. Fumbling, feeling sick again, I pulled on panties and slipped into flip flops. Tears rolling down my cheeks, I grabbed a toothbrush, a shirt and shorts and threw them into my backpack.

  Creeping down the back stairway, I prayed no one would hear me, no one would see me.

  My mother stood at the bottom of the stairs in her bathrobe, looking ashen. I froze on the steps.

  Her voice came out, brittle and hollow as a dead twig. “After all these years. All these years you treated me like I’m trailer trash. Looking down at me, like I’m not good enough to be your mother.”

  “Mom,” I blubbered, hating myself, hating this.

  “After all these years,” she continued, hard and strangely emotionless. “You do this?”

  “Mom, please,” I pleaded, taking a step toward her.

  “Fucking your stepbrother?” she spat out. “How low can you sink?”

  I cried out, my hand up over my face in shame. Flying down the rest of the stairs, I pushed past her, ran down the hallway and out into the garage. Somehow I managed to get the key into the lock, the engine started. It felt like all those cliché horror movies, where the girl can’t get the fucking key in the fucking ignition, can’t get up and away to make her escape.