Busted Steel: An Age Gap Stand Alone Romance (Steel Crew Book 6)

by Mj Fields

  “How long before the fish is done?” Tris calls from somewhere in the house. Perfect timing, too.

  “Ranger?” I ask.

  He glares at me as he walks past me to go inside. “Two minutes.”

  Now alone with Espen I feel completely awkward.

  “We’re alone.” He steps toward me.

  “Not really.” I step back and begin arranging the plates. “Three people right inside.”

  “Do you wish we were as I do?”

  “Having just met, probably not the best idea for a woman to hang out alone with a stranger.”

  “So tomorrow after the tour, we will be like old friends, yes?”

  “I suppose we’ll know each other exactly one day longer.” I smile politely.

  “Is it too soon now to ask for your lips to kiss?”

  Ranger walks back outside with another beer in his hand.

  “Busted.” I laugh quietly.

  “So tomorrow after the hike, and when I get back from my boat tour, I come take you to a nice dinner in town. Just us.”

  “Fish is done,” Ranger calls out loudly.

  “Where shall we sit?” Espen asks me.

  “Head of the table for the guest of honor.” Matteo nods. “It is customary.”

  Tris walks out in a blue dress, just like the green one I’m wearing.

  “We have two beautiful women that look lovelier than food,” Espen says as Ranger drops the tray on the table.

  “Sounds like you’re in,” Tris whispers and I look at her. “Oh, not so much now, huh?”

  I tap my nose, telling her she’s correct. “He reeks of desperation and smells like dirty feet and locker rooms. A total turn-off.”

  “Matteo doesn’t like him either. He said he ogled me. Then sputtered a bunch of not so pleasant-sounding curses in Spanish.”

  “Matteo got jealous?” I ask, shocked especially after the incident with Marcello.

  “Spanish men are just as over the top as Italians. Just in less ‘I will fuck your life in the ass’ way. He’s extremely passionate. Sensual.”

  “Sensual,” I repeat and look back at her. “I’m happy for you.”

  “Maybe we should add Spain to the trip since Norway isn’t agreeing with your palate.”

  “I’m glad we’re here.”

  She takes my hand and squeezes it. “Elsa and Anna, in Arendelle. I mean, look at us.”

  I laugh when I realize we’re wearing their colors and nudge her. “So? Do you wanna build a snowman?”

  She rolls her eyes. “How about we eat?”

  “Okay, bye.”

  “God, you seriously are a Disney Princess.”

  “Maybe, but I am hoping to one day be a sluttier version.”

  “So a Barbie.”

  I laugh. “Exactly.”

  “Food’s gonna get cold,” Ranger calls to us and I look over.

  I almost laugh when I see that Espen is at the head of the table, and seated on either side of him, Ranger and Matteo.

  “Double cock block,” Tris whispers. “Kind of feels like home then, huh?”

  “Sure does.” I look at Ranger, wishing he didn’t make me feel like home, in the best sense of the way.

  Matteo stands and pulls out Tris’s chair, and Espen starts to stand.

  “Oh, fuck me,” I grumble under my breath.

  Ranger pushes back from the table and stands, pulls my chair out, and rolls his eyes.

  “Thank you.” I roll mine back as I sit.

  I look at Tris who is not even trying to hide her amusement.

  “A toast,” Matteo says, pouring us each a glass of wine and sets the bottle down. He holds his glass up. “Mi amor. Mi Vida.”

  “Care to translate?” Espen asks as he taps glasses with Matteo.

  “My Love. My Life,” Ranger answers for him.

  I give Tris the aww look and she shakes her head and sighs.

  “I’m so happy for you.” I tap my glass to hers.

  “I want that tattooed on my chest,” she tells Ranger.

  “Tattoo? Chest?” Espen tsks. “Not for beautiful women.”

  “You don’t have any tattoos?” I ask.

  “Of course not. It’s how you say—”

  “Art?” I force a smile that turns genuine when I notice Ranger pushing his sleeves up, exposing his.

  “Oh, yes. Art.” He nods.

  I nudge Ranger with my knee and he … doesn’t even look at me.

  “So much for being friends,” I whisper so only he hears it.

  For the most part, dinner is quiet. Espen fills the dead air with giving us all sorts of things to do and see around the area.

  When dinner is over, I start to clear the table, and Tris insists that we take pictures before the sun is completely set behind us.

  Stressing over his handling of my prized possession; my camera, I completely miss seeing the table get cleared.

  “We should get sister tattoos, too,” Tris says between smiles.

  I swear I feel like I may cry the happiest of tears. I hold up my pinky, and she links hers around mine.

  “No matter where,” I whisper.

  “No matter what,” she replies.

  When Tris was little, she used to get anxious when we walked into school. We walked in together, pinkies linked the entire time, as I walked her to her class.

  “I’m here no matter where you are,” I’d tell her.

  “No matter what?” She’d ask and I’d always assure her I was.

  “That’s what we should get.” She shrugs like it’s no big deal.

  It is such a big freaking deal. That all went away when she was twelve. When she… changed.

  “Get a picture of this.” I raise our linked fingers in the air and when she doesn’t pull it away, I feel like I’ve just won the World Series.

  Sitting at the table, politely waiting for Espen to take his leave, I finish another glass of wine and am definitely feeling buzzed.

  “Let’s look at the pictures Brisa took of us,” Tris suggests.

  Matteo leans back and grabs the camera from the chair he left it on.

  He holds the camera in front of him and Espen and Tris lean in to look at the pictures. Ranger leans forward, too, blocking my view completely and I’m guessing on purpose, because he’s being a dick.

  Under the wooden table, his foot hooks around my ankle and pulls my leg toward him. What in the fuck is he… oh, shit, I think as his hand grips my thigh and spreads my legs further apart.

  “I love this one,” Tris says as Ranger grazes his fingers over my silky panties, nudging the fabric to the side. Barely touching my skin, his fingers softly tug at my pubes before rubbing up and down my slit. My body shudders and my nipples pull to a tight peak.

  “Beautiful,” Matteo purrs. “Amazing photographs, Brisa.”

  “Thank you,” I sigh right before Ranger plunges a finger inside me, curling it and hitting my g-spot, while rubbing circles around my clit with his thumb.

  I grip the edge of the table, causing it to move.

  “Chill, you took them. You can look later while you do whatever you do to make them sparkle.” Tris laughs.

  “Okay,” I manage to say without sounding as if I’m … getting finger banged under the table at a less than private dinner, because I fucking am.

  Ranger shoves another finger inside of me and begins fucking me slow and deep with them, his thumb grazing my clit.

  I’m done.

  I white knuckle the table, careful not to move it this time, my core now soaked. Knowing I am likely to turn the table upside down, I grab his wrist, leaning back trying to decide whether or not to grind against his touch, or jump up and excuse myself.

  “I.. I…”

  “You can take my place,” the good captain offers.

  “I’m good,” I squeak out.

  “You sure?” Tris laughs, and thankfully doesn’t look over Ranger’s broad shoulder blocking our view of each other.

  “Yep. Fine.”
I almost pant as Ranger thrusts his fingers in and out, faster, harder, deeper. I moan, thankful that the rough water is a bit noisy or they’d probably hear the sounds my drenched pussy is making.

  I wrap my fingers around his wrist and move my body so that he isn’t able to pull away from when I’m about to come and I ride his hand, to a knee clenching, body spasming, white heat inducing orgasm, in a very… very inappropriate setting.

  When he pulls his finger out of me, I slump forward, as he leans back.

  “Are you okay?” Espen asks.

  “I think I had a bit too much to drink.” I stand up, my legs shaking. “I think I’m going to lie down for a bit.”

  “You need me to help?” Tris asks, her voice truly full of concern… over my orgasm.

  “I’m good. Sea legs, wine.” A fucking public orgasm. “It’s been a day. Goodnight, everyone.”

  I flop back on my bed and cover my face. I laugh at the mess I am, the situation, and the—

  “Oh my God, you faker.” Tris flops back on my bed and laughs. “You totally just went all rock star freak-out to get out of having to deal with your Norwegian boyfriend?”

  “Oh my God, you so suck.” I laugh so hard I snort, because … what in the fuck was all that!

  “I could invite him in to snuggle with you until you fall asleep.” She laughs super loud and I cover her mouth.

  “I will throw you in the damn lake.”

  “My husband would not be happy with you,” she says, serious as shit and then we both crack up all over again.

  “They’re right here, Zandor, just a minute.” Tris and I both sit up as Ranger walks into the bedroom. “Your father’s on FaceTime.”

  He hands me his phone.

  “Hey, Dad.” I laugh.

  “Have you been drinking?” he asks, leaning in to get a better look.

  “She has.” Tris tattles on me and then laughs.

  His scowl immediately drops at the sound of her laugh and I see him smile to his right. That smile is reserved for one person only. Mom.

  “She’s already breaking hearts around the globe!” she yells and I immediately cover her mouth.

  “He’s still freaking here,” I whisper a bit too loudly.

  “Who? Who is there?” Dad snarls.

  Tris pushes my hand away and grabs the phone. “Don’t worry, Dad. I tried and failed to hook her up with tugboat Tom.”

  “Not going to say that makes me unhappy. But why’s he still there if—”

  “Because we’re not rude,” I remind him.

  “She’s not rude. I, on the other hand.” Tris shrugs.

  “Have you been drinking?” Dad asks her.

  “Yep,” she says smugly.

  “Tris, you shouldn’t —”

  “I’m aware of my boundaries, Dad. I’m good. For God’s sake, you should be more worried about Brisa.” She crosses her eyes at me, and I can’t help but laugh again.

  “God, I’ve missed you.” I tackle hug her.

  “Say goodnight to the girls.” Mom laughs. “Chat later, young ladies. We love you.”

  We both reach for the phone and hold it up together and together we say, “Goodnight.”

  “Love you guys. Now go make us another sibling.”

  “Dad,” Tris cuts in.

  “Yeah, baby girl?”

  “Pull out,” she jokes.

  “Not a chance.” He winks at her.

  “You might get another me.”

  “In that case,” he looks at Mom, “let’s definitely make another baby.”

  “You do know we’re in our forties.”

  “Fuck, we’re old.” He smiles.

  No Going Back Now

  Ranger

  Standing in front of her bedroom door that’s not completely shut, I knock and whisper in, “You asleep?”

  “Getting there,” she answers, sitting up, and tapping the bedside touch lamp until it’s on dim.

  “Won’t take much of your time, just wanted to apologize for—”

  “Finger fucking me under the table in front of,” she pauses and throws her hand in the air, “everyone?”

  “Nah, not about that, because straight up,” I step inside her room and close the door behind me, “I made sure before he left he knew I wasn’t the fucking help. That he wasn’t gonna be a tour guide tomorrow, or your European fuck. He knows both roles are filled, and he knows damn well who’s filling them.”

  A smile wobbles on her face as she tries to restrain it, but her eyes sparkle. “Yet here I sit, unfucked.”

  I reach behind my back and pull my shirt over my head. “Here to rectify that situation.”

  “And what makes you think I’m going to allow it?”

  Toeing off my sneakers I tell her, “Because you need a man who gets off on getting you off. He wasn’t it.”

  “Yeah, well, I’d rather a stranger fuck me than a man who looks at me like you did last night, and all day.”

  I unbuckle my belt, pull it out of the loops, and toss it on the bed.

  “My pops had a heavy hand at times and used to beat my ass with a belt, but not as heavy as my momma’s boyfriend. So, touching my ass is off limits.” All truth, I just left out the uglier details.

  I unbutton my pants, and then unzip. “I have nightmares on occasion. You can’t wake me from them, because you may end up across the room. There isn’t shit I can do to control that when I’m asleep. Last night I was a dick because I could have hurt you, grateful that I didn’t.”

  “You didn’t hurt me,” she whispers.

  I drop my pants on the floor and grab the belt off the bed. “I don’t kiss a woman, it gives them false hope that it will be something more, but you and I have an exit plan. I don’t like my face touched but you’ve done it a handful of times, and it wasn’t an issue, so if you need to put your hands on me, you get face, hair, and shoulders if you need to hang on.”

  I’m breaking all sorts of rules for her now. “Fucking is fucking. It’s for pleasure and to get off. I happen to like getting you off, better than I like the thought of some douchebag doing it, therefore my rule about only fuck with your back to me, we’ll see how that goes, but right now, I’m going to do so with your wrists bound, but not too tight, and attached to that headboard.”

  “You’ve never had sex in any other position? Doesn’t that get boring” she asks, genuinely curious.

  “No. You don’t believe me, I can prove you wrong, but right now, my dick’s hard, your nipples are rock hard little pebbles, are poking out of that tank top. I can guarantee your sweet little cunt is wet, and the two newlyweds upstairs are fast asleep. So, Brisa, you wanna fuck or what?”

  She nods and licks her lips. “Yeah.”

  “Get naked.” I lean down, grab my jeans, and pull a condom out of my pocket.

  I watch her take her sleep tank off and groan at the sight of her perfect tits as I roll a condom on my dick then kneel on the foot of the bed.

  “No panties?”

  “We have that in common, huh?” she asks, her voice deeper, throatier.

  “Suppose we do.”

  My heart is lodged in my throat seeing her completely naked.

  She’s more than beautiful, too damn beautiful for me.

  I feel like I did at fifteen years old at Dad’s club, a rite of passage, get rid of my boyhood and becoming a man. But she’s not a gift from Dad from prison, she’s not some club whore with a skewed sense of duty, she wants me for me, and not because I might someday take his place.

  She’s beautiful, fucking perfect actually. I’m almost afraid to touch her, and not because I’m likely due an ass kicking from anyone who loves and wants her protected, but because she’s had her eyes on me for years, because she has no idea the life I left behind, one that could offer support if needed. She needs nothing I could offer. She’s got everything she could ever want or need. Brisa’s not like every other pussy I’ve had and will go back to a great life after her dirty little fantasy is fulfilled.


  I ignore the nausea rolling around inside of me, kick away the nervous kid in me attempting to resurrect, the one who’d never known the love of a woman, and never will, and focus on what is naked and sprawled out in front of me.

  “Are you gonna touch me or what?” she asks, lifting her arms in the air, her wrists touching, asking to be bound like it’s some fantasy and not the reality I bring.

  “I'm going to touch you.” I knee her legs apart, lean forward, palm her perfect tits, and rubbing my thumbs over her deep red and rock hard nipples I watch her lips part in an excited, sexy as hell sigh.

  Her hands, still unbound, reach up and pull out my hair tie allowing my hair to fall in her face. She inhales deeply. “God, I love your hair, the way it smells, how soft it is on my skin. Better than I ever imagined, better than any dream I ever had.”

  My chest tightens and my cock hardens further. "You dreamt about me?"

  “Shit,” she scolds herself and grabs my shoulders. “Ignore that.”

  “Why?” The tension from her touch dwindles much more rapidly than I could have ever expected.

  "It’s like you get freaked out by me admitting I knew I wanted you since the moment I saw you.” She shakes her head. “I don’t want you to pull away when we’re so close to happening.”

  I squeeze her tits. “Think I made it kind of obvious I don't think I can pull away when you’re hell bent on fucking your way around the globe and watching some dipshit flop around like a fish out of water trying to figure out a way to get inside here.” I reach down and cup her pussy and she groans and arches her back. “I should make you beg for the shit you pulled today, but we might wake the neighbors.” I nod up toward the second floor. “But you do it again, I’ll make you wish you’d never pulled that shit, you feel me?” I shove two fingers inside her without warning and then on instinct, I cover her cry… with my mouth.

  When I start to pull away, she pulls me closer and whispers, “Don’t pull away.” Her hands skim up my neck, her fingers tangling in my hair. “I’m so here for this.”

  One hand on her tits, fingers pinching her nipples I reach between us and rub my cock against her soaked slit.

  We exchange a heavy breath, one that feels like has been held since the wedding. She moans as I push into her, slowly sinking into her tight tremoring pussy, inch by inch I watch her eyes roll slightly, her lips tremble, and her body tense. When I’m fully seated, fully connected, when our bodies are pressed together with no room for worry of the past or future to come between us, we exchange a moan for a sigh.