Stepbrother Master

by Jackson, Ava

  Emma bit down hard on her fork before swallowing a bite. A pink blush tinged her cheeks, reminding me of the color of her ass before I’d switched from my hand to the paddle. The urge to rile her up was too strong not to give in.

  “Emma was definitely active last week,” I said, glancing up as I finished buttering my bread and lifted it to my lips. “We had a great time giving things a chance. I’d like to think Montana has given her a whole new range of impactful experiences. She was in good hands while you were away.” The double entendres weren’t lost on Emma; her pink slowly turned to red. Teasing her like this was juvenile as hell, but she had about lost it at lunch when we talked about ‘ropes’ and ‘riding.’

  Cynthia sat straighter in her chair, smiling brightly. “I’m so glad you two are getting along. I had such concerns.” She looked pointedly at me. “I hate to say it, Ford, but you’re not the easiest man to get to know. I’m glad you’ve been so welcoming to my girl.”

  “Just one more thing I love about you, Cyn.” My dad’s voice boomed out over the dinner table. “You’re not afraid to tell it like it is. Keeps us all honest.”

  I met Cynthia’s direct stare. “Nothing to worry about here, Cynthia. I think we’re getting along very well.” I lost my battle and cut my eyes to the girl in question. Her cheeks had heated to a bright red. “And I think it’s safe to say that Emma and I have both … let each other in. We spent last week bonding all over the ranch.”

  Emma choked on her steak, coughing into her napkin for nearly a minute before shoving away from the table.

  “Excuse me. I … I need to go. I don’t feel well.”

  We all watched in stunned silence as Emma disappeared down the hallway.

  “What in the world?” Cynthia said, rising and following after her daughter.

  My dad looked to me, brow wrinkled. “Do you have any idea what that was about?”

  I shook my head. “No. No idea.”

  We both dug into the remains of the meal, but mine sat like rancid feed in my stomach. Had I pushed Emma too far? I fucked up, that was for sure. I thought that we were sharing an innocent joke, but I hadn’t recognized what she was really feeling until it was too late. She had run from me. Angry or disgusted or maybe even scared … whatever it was, I never wanted to see that look directed at me again. Something cold seeped into my veins. It felt a lot like fear that I’d damaged the trust we’d been building. I cleared my plate quickly and excused myself. I needed to fix whatever I’d just done. And for the first time in a long time … I wasn’t sure of my next step.

  Chapter 15

  Emma

  I beat a hasty retreat to my room and slammed the door. My stomach was still in queasy knots. What had Ford been thinking, dangling our sex life in front of Mom and Russ like that?

  But I already knew that wasn't the worst part. All his teasing brought everything into focus, letting me see how wrong our relationship really was. The real question here was: What the hell had I been thinking? What did I expect when I got involved with him in the first place?

  Someone knocked. Mom's muffled voice called, “Are you okay in there? Do you need me to bring you anything?”

  I tried to pull myself together. “Y-yeah, Mom. I mean, no. I mean … come on in.” She would lurk in the hallway until I let her fuss over me, so I might as well get it over with.

  Mom opened the door, her brow furrowed. “Do you feel sick?” She reached out to lay her hand on my forehead. “You don't seem feverish, but you have been looking flushed for a while.”

  “Jeez, Mom.” I sighed. For a moment, I regretted inviting her in here to play Twenty Questions. I already felt like I'd time-traveled back to high school—if I wasn't careful, she'd be stuffing me into a stroller soon. “Don't worry about it. I'm fine. It's just, uh … ” I cast around for a change of topic. “All this new stuff takes some getting used to. I guess I just got carried away having fun with Ford.” I mentally kicked myself. “I stayed out in the sun too long, or got too much exercise, or maybe I ate something that didn't agree with me … ” Oh God, why couldn't I stop rambling?

  But Mom nodded with an understanding smile. “You never did do anything halfway.” She chuckled. “Even when you really should have. As soon as you tried something, you wanted to master it, come hell or high water. It's great that you're enjoying Montana so much, but next time you go out with Ford, don't push yourself so hard. He's been doing this stuff a lot longer than you.”

  I returned her smile, half-hearted and a little sick. “Okay, Mom. I'll try to take it easy.”

  She brushed a stray hair off my face. “It's been so nice to see you this summer. I know I'm repeating myself, but I really am glad that you're getting along with your new stepbrother.” She paused, glancing down briefly. “I know it's tough to deal with your mom constantly shuffling new relatives around your life. You've really been a trooper for all this time.”

  I interrupted, “Don't blame yourself for—”

  “Let me finish, sweetie.” She sighed, thoughtfully rather than impatiently. “What I'm trying to get at is … you're used to that kind of thing. But Ford's not. So he was a little gun-shy when I first got here.”

  I almost wanted to laugh. “Shy” was the last word I'd ever use to describe Ford. But I remembered the first day we'd met: the cold suspicion tempering the lust in his eyes, the way he'd acted like his father's guard dog. Maybe Mom wasn't too far off the mark here.

  “You and Ford got off to a rocky start, but it seems like some time alone did you both some good.” Her tone and voice softened further, into the same tenderness she always showed when talking about her new husband. “Russ is one of the best things that's ever happened to me. If you can feel at home here … that would mean so much.”

  All over again, it struck me that I'd never seen Mom so happy and in love. Her run of bad luck had finally ended. This marriage was here to stay.

  If I didn't ruin it by screwing her stepson.

  My stomach twisted with a mix of sick guilt and anger. I hated lying to Mom like this. We had always been close since we were each other's only constants in life, but now I was hiding from her. The fact that she didn't know I was pushing her away changed nothing.

  “I do, Mom. Thanks.” I hugged her, fighting back sudden tears as I breathed in her perfume—that rose-jasmine smell from my earliest memories. “I … I think I'll go to bed now. I still feel kind of crappy.”

  She squeezed back and kissed my cheek. “Sleep well, sweetie.”

  I nodded, afraid that my voice would crack if I spoke, and closed the door behind her. Then I sat on the bed and cradled my head in my hands. My mind ran in circles. What the hell was I going to do?

  But I didn't have long to think. Footsteps approached my door, heavier and more widely spaced than Mom's. The door opened to reveal the man I least—and most—wanted to see.

  “What are you doing up here?” The words came out more harshly than I'd intended. “You're going to get us caught.”

  “For Christ's sake, relax.” Ford walked over and rested one hand on my shoulder. For some reason, I didn't brush it off. “It's normal for a guy to care about his sister. Our parents just think I'm up here checking on you.”

  “But I—”

  “They don't know. Trust me,” he said. “And even if they did, we're two consenting adults. It's none of their fucking business. We've got no reason to worry.”

  I wanted to believe him so badly. To just listen to his calm, confident voice and fall into the warm strength of his arms. He wouldn't let anything bad happen to me. Despite myself, I started to relax.

  “Attagirl,” he said with a slight smile. Holding my eyes, Ford cupped my chin with his free hand. My body responded automatically and my face turned up to his.

  He bent down and drew me into a slow, lingering kiss that made me ache. Then, with his lips still brushing mine, he murmured, “I want to fuck you again.”

  A soft noise of surprise and desire escaped me. That familiar heat I
always felt around Ford was quickly rising under my skin.

  “I can't stand not being inside you. I want to make you come and feel your body writhe against me.” He kissed me again, wilder and hungrier than before, and this time I returned it. Somehow his other hand was already on my knee; it strayed over my thigh, then further up, and I arched toward him. Slowly I began to surrender, melting under his touch…

  But the memory of Mom's smile resurfaced. She and Russ were probably eating dessert now, or watching TV cuddled on the couch, or some other cute couple thing. Comfortable and peaceful in marital bliss … while their children lusted for each other right above their heads. Nausea and guilt overwhelmed anything else I was feeling. It was only for a moment, but that was just long enough to push Ford away.

  He blinked, a line appearing between his eyebrows. “What's the matter?”

  Wasn't it obvious? Was he just messing with me again? The only words I could find were, “I can't. I'm sorry.”

  “Hey, stop it.” He glanced down for a minute. “I acted like a dick tonight. If you're still mad, I can't really blame you.”

  “No, I'm not … well, sort of.” I shook my head. It was nice of him to fess up, but I couldn't get sidetracked. “That's not what I meant, though. I was talking about all of this. Us. It's just too weird.”

  Ford reached for my hand again and I stepped back away from the bed. He gave a huff. “If you would just listen for a second, I'm trying to apologize.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it; I really do.” I tried not to sound frustrated and landed somewhere in the region of sarcastic. “But if you were listening, you'd know that's not what I'm upset about.” That close-knit “happy family dinner” feeling had clashed so horribly with the sexual charge between me and Ford. Even the memory made my skin crawl.

  “You didn't think it was weird last night. Or the night before that. Or any of the dozen or so times we've fucked in the last week,” Ford replied a little louder. He wasn't crowing about his conquest; there was no smirk on his face or in his voice. He seemed genuinely confused—and he started to get pissed.

  My own anger flared up in response. Why didn't he fucking get it? After everything I'd just said, how could he still not understand? How could he not feel as creeped out as I was? Before I could stop myself, I snapped at him. “But that week's over, Ford! Our parents are back. We're a family now.” I gave a humorless bark of a laugh. “God, how screwed up is that? I let myself forget you're my stepbrother for a few days, but I can't do it anymore. Even if I wanted to, I just can't.”

  “And do you want to?” His gaze seared into me.

  “N-not with our parents right here in the house!” I quickly lied. Just like yesterday—and every day since I'd first laid eyes on Ford—I still burned for him. In my heart, I knew that last week had been more than a lapse in judgment. And if I was being brutally honest with myself, the way I felt about Ford went deeper than my body. No man had ever commanded me like he did or given me so much pleasure.

  “So I was just one big mistake to you?” he demanded. His eyes narrowed and his jaw muscles bunched. He was full-on mad now—the kind of mad, I suddenly realized, that you only feel when you're in pain.

  But it didn't make a difference. Even if it hurt both of us, I couldn't back down from this.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. “That's not the point. It would never work between us in the long-term. Our parents are married now and we need to start acting like a family. You're my stepbrother. I'm your stepsister.” I turned away to hide the stupid, illogical tears that pricked at my eyes. “I'm sorry, Ford. It was fun while it lasted, but … please go.”

  Chapter 16

  Ford

  “Go? You just want me to go? That’s it. That’s how you’re going to end it. I get a little out of line at dinner, and you want to cut and run?” I shoved my hand through my hair and turned to face the door. I had to look away, had to pull my shit together before I said something I couldn’t take back. Normally, it wasn’t hard to keep myself locked down, but something about Emma had torn at my self-restraint from the very beginning.

  I spun back around to face her, and part of me expected her to be smiling and laughing. Like her words had been a joke, and now she expected me pull her to the bed and put her over my knee for spouting off such bullshit. But her face was set in a cold, harsh mask. There wasn’t even a glimmer of the fun, sassy Emma I’d gotten to know. It was like staring at a stranger. And I fucking hated it. The words were out before I could call them back.

  “So that’s how it’s going be then. Just like that.” A harsh chuckle escaped my lips at Emma’s sharp nod. “Guess it’s for the best anyway. It’s not like either of us really believes this marriage is going to last. You’ll be around for the summer, but then how much longer do you think your mom will realistically be here? I don’t even put odds on making it to a nice family Thanksgiving. So I guess we won’t have to worry about that being awkward.”

  Emma’s face crumpled as she sucked in a breath, hunching over like I just punched her in the gut. She straightened just as quick, her temper flaring. “So you’re basically saying that my mom is no better than Celeste—out to hook a rich guy, take him for a ride, and get what she can out of him? Well guess what, Ford? It’s a good thing I decided to end it now, because it’s clear that you don’t know a goddamn thing about me or my mom. Now get the hell out of my room.”

  Fuck this. I turned and reached for the door handle, ripping it open. I wanted to slam it shut, but knew I couldn’t risk attracting attention. I needed to get the fuck out of this house so I headed for the barn.

  * * *

  Long hours in the saddle gave a man plenty of time to think, and I rode far enough to have covered a lot of ground—both literally and figuratively. Avoiding the spots where I’d taken Emma hadn’t kept her out of my thoughts. If anything, I just thought about her more. And my conclusion? I might have fucked up. Big. I kept seeing the look on her face when I’d said that about her mom, and then her hunching over like she was in pain.

  Shit.

  I pulled up Richter, my gelding, and patted his neck. “Good boy.” We stopped in front of my favorite campsite. I’d found it by accident last spring. It had a rocky overhang, with a great view and a natural fire pit. I’d actually considered bringing Emma up here to spend the night, but we’d gotten so caught up with each other, and I didn’t want to let her out of my bed.

  Emma.

  Jesus. Every other goddamn thought.

  I dismounted, grabbed my gear, and set about starting a fire. I brought enough whiskey to forget about her for the night. I hoped. But as I stared into the flames, all I could see was her face, her smiles, the way her eyes clouded over with pleasure, the way her nose crinkled when she laughed.

  I’m so fucked.

  ***

  I stayed away from the house for two days, hoping distance would help me get a handle on myself, but it did nothing except make it worse. I missed her. I wasn’t too proud to admit it. The old Ford would’ve dug out his little black book and called up one of the women altogether too willing to come over on short notice for the kind of pleasure I had to offer. But I couldn’t muster any appetite for that, or hell—for anything. Even my prize, grass-fed beef tasted like shit. And that discovery clued me in to the fact that I had a big fucking problem. Well, that, and me wanting to pull the shotgun out of my saddle holster and pop a few shells off at Mac and TJ, as they stood drooling over Emma in shorts that might have even made Daisy Duke blush. I didn’t need to point out that my cock approved whole-heartedly.

  “What the fuck is she doing now?” I muttered to myself, dismounting and hooking Richter’s reins on a post by the barn. “Don’t you two have work to do?” I yelled at my ranch hands. Mac and TJ both spun away from the fence.

  “Sorry, boss,” Mac said. “We were just watching to see if Ms. Emma needed any help with her gardening.”

  Emma was on her knees—another position my dick liked and remembered al
l too well—pulling weeds out of the flowerbeds along the front of the house. She reached toward the back, her ass up in the air, and those fucking shorts left nothing to the goddamn imagination. I wanted to walk over there, kneel down, and turn her cheeks red for showing anyone else what belonged to me. Except, she didn’t belong to me. She’d made that perfectly fucking clear.

  “Watching to see if she needed help from a hundred feet away? Right. Get back to fucking work,” I barked at them.

  Mac turned and headed for the barn, but TJ stayed beside me. “I apologize if you think we’re just out here talking shit about your stepsister. It ain’t like that. She’s one helluva woman. You know I’m hoping to settle down, and she’s exactly what I’m looking for. I think she and I could have something real.”

  Every possessive instinct in me flared to life, and I wanted nothing more than to grab him by the throat and tell him that there’s no fucking chance for him because she was already mine.

  But I couldn’t.

  TJ kept going. “Earlier today, she wanted to go for a ride and tried to tack up Delilah all by herself. It was cute as hell. She didn’t know a bit from a bridle. Had everything all ass-backwards, but Delilah, sweet thing that she is, just stood and let Emma fuss over her. And the cutest damn part? Emma kept asking the horse, ‘now where does this thing go?’ like Delilah might actually answer.” TJ shook his head. “Of course, being the gentleman cowboy I am, I stepped in to offer my assistance.”

  I gritted my teeth to keep from telling him to keep the rest of the story to himself. I didn’t want to hear it, but then again, because it was about Emma … part of me did. I turned and headed for the barn, hoping both that he would and wouldn’t follow me. But of course, TJ did—and he kept fucking talking.

  “I showed her the ropes, and we got to chatting, and she told me all about the job she’s got lined up helping inner city kids. She’s got such passion for what she wants to do. It practically shines right out of her. I ended up taking her for a trail ride so she wouldn’t get lost, and man, I could talk to that woman for the rest of my goddamn life. Emma is the kind of girl you find and get a ring on her finger as fast as you can and never let her go.”