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

by Mj Fields

  “Oh my God, what?”

  She points toward the glass doors where two men are standing and taking pictures.

  “Fuck no, you don’t.” I drop the suitcase and run to the kitchen, grab the broom, and head toward the door.

  “This is private property, assholes.” I open the door and swing the broom. They both jump back. “Get the fuck out of here!” I swing again, with all I have. “My brother smashes a bat at every game and taught me how to swing, I know what the fuck I’m doing, now run, little bastards!”

  They scurry down the dock like roaches and toward… “You asshole!” I flip off the boat full of people, and yes, Espen is the captain.

  He flips me back off. “Crazy American!”

  “Oh, hell no.” I stomp toward the dock.

  “The fuck do you think you’re doing?” Ranger asks, grabbing me around the waist and pulling me back.

  “Fucking creeper!” I scream.

  “You just bought yourself a punishment,” he whispers, pulling me up.

  Feeling him against my back I whisper, “Are you seriously hard right now?”

  “You tell me,” he says, storming toward the doorway.

  Once inside he drops me down so my feet are on the floor. “Get your shit packed. We leave in ten.”

  “Stop beating yourself up,” Tris whispers, giving me a kiss on the cheek. “Love you, goodnight.”

  I watch her as she walks across the hotel suite toward her and Matteo’s room, mostly to avoid looking at… him.

  Ranger has yet to say more than two words since his epic flip-out on me at the house. He definitely gives off Daddy vibes. The fact that I’m equally as pissed as I am turned on by it, is annoying as hell.

  As soon as Tris closes the door behind her and the classical music, that they play every night begins, I look down at my phone, to avoid… him.

  The silence doesn’t last long. “You can beat yourself up a little longer after the shit you pulled today.”

  I turn back and look at him. “You’re just annoyed that I was a badass and not some needy —”

  He stands up from the computer screen he’s been staring at since we checked into the hotel and stalks toward me. “Badass with a broom?”

  “Whatever it takes.” I shrug and look back down at the screen.

  “Stand up,” he snarls.

  “I’m a little bit tired actually from all the hiking and badassery.”

  He snatches my phone. “Stand up.”

  “Why? You gonna punish me now… Daddy? How many spankings will I get? Will you put the belt to use tonight or—”

  He grabs me and throws me over his shoulder, stalks toward the other bedroom, whispering angrily, “You wanna be a badass? Show me how you’d get out of this.”

  “My instinct is to beat on your back, claw at your ass, or kick you in the junk. I’m pissed at you, Ranger, but not enough to cross that line.”

  “You’re pissed at me?” he huffs, flopping me onto one of the two double beds in the room like a damn rag doll. “I’m furious with you.”

  I quickly get up and poke him in the chest. “She’s my sister. She’s been through so much and you know it. They don’t get to do that to her. I will open up a whole case of whoop ass on whoever fucks with her!”

  He crosses his arms and looks at me, expressionless.

  “Well?” I throw my hands in the air. “Whatcha got?”

  “A fucking headache.” He pinches his nose.

  “Is that why you can’t just admit I did good?”

  His eyebrow raises. “You pull that shit again and I will help your father put your ass back up in the ivory tower you so badly wanted down from. You were safe. Locked in a fucking house that’s secure. You never unlock a door and go outside and confront someone brazen enough to come peeking in windows, you call the fucking cops and sit your ass still. Or, you wait until I’ve dealt with what I was dealing with and you still sit your ass still and wait.”

  I poke him in the chest again. “You didn’t say that to Matteo when he came out. Newsflash, just because I have tits doesn’t mean I can’t defend myself.”

  “I did tell Matteo to stay in the house when he came back out. I already knew they weren’t getting out of the vehicle, which proves they knew damn well they’d get their asses kicked. I’d also alerted the local authorities, who I sent a picture of the car and tags. When he came back out, I already knew all that, so I let him,” he whispers, “a sculptor, not a trained killer, stand there and look good for his woman. Maybe in doing that, Tris can chill even more. And he’s probably getting the blowjob of the century right now.”

  “I was defending—”

  “You put yourself and your sister at a much greater risk than you were in. You fed your ego.”

  “Oh my God, seriously?” Frustrated, I drop to my ass on the bed.

  “The girl at the Shore knew better than to walk back into a bad situation without back-up. You made better choices back then. I swear to God, you keep that shit up, I will one hundred and ten percent side with your old man.”

  “News flash, you’re not my daddy and I’m a grown ass woman.”

  “I’m real aware of who you are as a woman. I give a damn less about the bullshit pouty little brat shit you’re spewing, you want my dick, my mouth, my fingers in your pussy, you want me to continue fulfilling your dirty little fantasies, I am your fucking daddy.”

  When he storms out of the room, I’m… so turned on.

  Buzz

  Ranger

  Twelve hours, I think, standing under a cold shower. Twelve hours, and Zack will be here to cover for me, give me a chance to get some sleep, and a break from the constant state of need I seem to be in around her.

  Obviously, I was wrong thinking this trip was going to be chill enough that I didn’t need a couple days downtime. Brisa actually did a hell of a job when booking under an alias. From what the authorities said, the assholes in their twenties who followed us here saw Brisa and Tris on Pulpit Rock today. They thought Brisa was some famous actress, so they took a picture of them and ran it through some image search and Foreplay popped up. Part two of the epic shitshow was the little bitch, Espen, who … realistically probably didn’t like my send-off and did some digging.

  My bad, but her going out there? Un-fucking-acceptable.

  If shit didn’t go down with Marcello, I would have gotten more sleep before we left. But sleep induced by pain pills has never made my body or brain feel rested. It also doesn’t help that I’m hyped up even more than normal because I’m on a fucked-up kind of high. The mix of Brisa and testosterone must be pretty damn close to the feeling my mother and Sissy get when they shoot up. Thank God I’m stronger than them, and out of sight will be out of mind. Until then, I will pay Zack to hang around when I need a break.

  Not like I don’t have the money, and I know he needs it.

  “Twelve fucking hours.” I step into the cold water, hair lathered up, and let it rain down on me.

  When the door—the same damn door I swore I locked—opens, I know only one of three people are awake, and that she’s the only person brazen enough to pull this shit.

  I turn and see her standing there, hand on her hip, then look away and grab the conditioner, ignoring her completely.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I can see her shedding clothes. I should tell her to turn her hot little ass around and get out, yet my twisted mind is totally going to enjoy this shit.

  “We need a conversation. One that both parties have equal say and neither storms out when they’ve said their piece. So, the shower it is.”

  She doesn’t move.

  “Gonna be a gentleman and warn you that you may not enjoy what you’re considering getting into.”

  “And I’m gonna tell you that I’m not leaving that shower until you tell me you, of all freaking people, understand why I need to protect those I love.”

  “Then don’t you dare get out until you’ve heard what I have to say.”

  I
step back, giving her plenty of room to get in.

  Standing under the freezing cold water, she is the kind of tense that she gets before she comes, but she’s unrelenting as fuck, too.

  “Got something to say, or are you just gonna stand there?”

  After a few seconds, she finally releases the huge breath she took in when she got blasted with the cold water. “Tell me you’re sorry for flipping out on me.”

  “I’m not sorry I reprimanded you for your actions.” I squeeze the water out of my hair.

  “Just say you’re sorry you were a dick. Or is sorry a word you can’t say?”

  “I’m sorry you put me in the position to do that.”

  “That’s not how this works.” Her lower lip starts to quiver. “And if you think I pu-u-ut Tris in more danger than you, ta-a-alk to me like I’m you’re equal.”

  Her nips are so damn hard they could cut through glass, and my dick hasn’t gotten the memo that we’re not getting along with her any better than it did when I jacked her ass up off the deck at the house.

  “You and I aren’t equals when it comes to security, no more than we’re equals behind the lens of your camera.”

  “That’s n-n-n-n-not the response I’m see-eek-ing.”

  “That’s the one you’re getting.” Unable to watch her being so fucking stubborn—her lips are about to turn blue—I step up to her, my dick nudging her back, and begin rinsing my hair.

  When I hear a legit sigh of relief, I don’t bother giving her a smug look, because yeah, I can be a gentleman once in a while.

  “They shouldn’t have been there. They needed to leave. I made them leave.”

  “I shouldn’t have said the shit I did to the shitbag captain, last night. I know better. I’ll own that. But if you’re waiting for a sorry, it’ll be a cold day in hell that you put the pussy I’ve been promised for two months at risk; you’ll freeze first.”

  I step back, giving her room. “Shower’s all yours.” I nod to the handle. “You wanna turn up the heat, you know what to do.” I step around her and get out of the shower.

  She steps under it, raises two fingers, the middle ones of course, before saying, “I’m a woman of my word.”

  I towel my hair. “You’re a brat who needs a spanking.”

  “Well, what are you waiting for, Daddy?”

  Rock-hard, I reach back in the shower and adjust the heat. “You want to be treated like an equal, show me you are.”

  “Where are you going?” she asks, walking into the room.

  I hold up the blanket and pillow. “Couch.”

  “There are two beds in here, and I’m certainly not going to try to jump your big bone,” she snips.

  “Got nothing to do with you trying to jump even a mud puddle. I’m sleeping between Tris’s room and yours. Hers because she’s who I’m paid to protect, and yours because you still don’t get that you could have put not just yourself but her at risk by what you did today.”

  “I didn’t put her at any more risk than she was already in when you told us to go inside alone. And you’ll be sleeping. So, if I wanted to sneak out, Daddy, I could easily do so.”

  “You’ve been tossing around the term Daddy an awful lot today.”

  “Try not to think of it as foreplay.” She drops her towel as she walks over to her bed, tossing back the covers. “At least not until you say you’re sorry.”

  Knowing damn well if I stay in this room another second, I’m not gonna be able to stop myself from either laughing because she’s straight-up funny, or I’m gonna be inside her, I leave.

  Within ten minutes of getting comfortable, I hear a noise coming from somewhere, and it’s not the shhhi … music that Tris and Matteo listen to every night.

  Standing up from the couch, I quietly move to the balcony door and look at the app on my phone. I see nothing unusual. Then I quietly open the door and look around and see … nothing unusual.

  Back inside, I lock the door then quietly make my way to Tris and Matteo’s room and crack the unlocked door open, praying they’re not fucking.

  Prayers answered. They’re all snuggled up against each other, two people who started out as strangers, then thorns in each other’s sides, in a sense. Two loners, be it by choice or occupation. Two dark souls who found light in each other. Pretty fucking amazing, actually, I think as I shut the door quietly behind me.

  I hear it again—a whimper?—and realize it may be coming from Brisa’s room.

  Good going, you asshole. You made her cry, I think as I walk toward the door, not wanting to open it and deal with the fact that I, in fact, fucked with someone who I knew I shouldn’t have to begin with.

  Not just once either, the little devil on my shoulder taunts me.

  Do the right thing, asshole, I tell myself before opening the door, sliding in, and then shutting it behind me.

  “Brisa.”

  When she doesn’t answer, I remember her little insinuation that she could skip out unnoticed and hit the flashlight on my phone.

  “Jesus Christ,” I moan as my dick turns to … fucking steel.

  The noise? Her moaning. The buzz? Whatever’s between her legs that happens to not be my dick.

  I’m real fucking confused as to whether I’m jealous or pissed off. Reality is I have no damn right to be either.

  She’s completely naked with her hand between her legs, back arched, eyes covered by one of those masks that chicks wear to sleep, and AirPods in her ears. She has no fucking clue I’m standing here, watching her.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck, I swear at both the devil on my left shoulder and the angel on the right.

  The devil is telling me to get some popcorn and enjoy the fuck out of the show. The angel is telling me she’s obviously in this position because of me … so I should give her a hand. Or better yet, a dick.

  Yeah, I know, angels aren’t supposed to say shit like that, but sometimes those two yap too damn much and I gotta make decisions myself.

  I kill my flashlight on my phone and flip on the light. Thankfully, that sleep mask doesn’t completely darken the room, and she sits up, whips the covers over her, and throws the mask off.

  “Holy shit, what are you doing in my room?” she squeaks out, and the buzzing gets louder. She fumbles around, trying to turn it off, and to save her a bit of embarrassment, I pretend not to hear it.

  “Came in to tell you I could hear you out there. Thought you might be having a bad dream.”

  “Yeah?” She points to my pants. “And you came in with a boner to ask that question?”

  “This”—I point at the culprit—“we both know damn well is not a bone; it’s a fucking hard-on.”

  “So, reality is, you came in here, like you did at the house when they were asleep, expecting me to spread my legs whenever you felt like getting off.”

  In order to save her the embarrassment, I decide to lie. Well, half-lie because the picture of her coming at me in the shower … no one has come at me like that. “My dick’s been hard since the shower.”

  “Next thing you know, you’ll be blaming me for blue balls.”

  “That’s shit boys say to get laid. This”—I grab my dick through my sweats—“is all man.”

  She closes her eyes and shakes her head, mumbling under her breath, “And you’re half perfect.”

  Part of me knows that should offend the shit out of me. She’s as close to royalty as they come, so of course I’m not her type. The other part now wants to fuck her to remind her she’s the one who’s been begging for it and why.

  Guess which one wins.

  “Either leave me alone or say you’re sorry.”

  “Fine.” I drop my pants. “I’m sorry I didn’t fuck my frustration about the situation out on your pussy, and instead I was obviously too harsh on your ego. Won’t happen again. Lie back.”

  Less than a minute later, I’m standing outside a locked door, sweats in hand, listening to her get herself off.

  The past two days, I slept like a baby d
uring the day. The nights, I spent on the couch, so Zack could get a solid eight. They spent the days ordering room service and watching movies, laughing like sisters should, and Brisa and Matteo seem to be getting closer, which is good. He’ll need an ally when they hit Jersey for the holidays.

  I haven’t seen her except on the security app until the ride to the airport, where she doesn’t say shit the whole way.

  On the plane, though, she doesn’t have a choice, since she and I are seated together, behind Tris and Matteo, and Zack is in front of them.

  “Was Norway all you expected?” I ask, making fucking small talk.

  She looks at me like I’m an idiot.

  “Like, did you enjoy—”

  “Did you draw the short straw?” she interrupts.

  “Got no clue which way to go in answering that. You’re gonna have to be specific.”

  “The seat? Did you and Zack draw straws, and you got stuck with me? Because—”

  “Our seats were already booked. We lucked out by getting him on the same flight. It was a bonus that he’s a row in front of your sister and Matteo.”

  “Don’t feel like you need to talk to me.”

  “Again, be specific in what you say to me, because I don’t read well between the lines when it comes to you.”

  “Obviously, you have Zack here to Brisa-sit, so don’t—”

  “I have Zack here because, until two days ago, I haven’t had more than two to four hours of sleep a night since we got back from Jersey. My brain doesn’t do well on that little bit of sleep for long periods of time.”

  “Tris said you normally sleep at night unless she’s being a pain in the ass, so apparently—”

  “You can continue banging your pretty little head against that wall, but I won’t claim something that’s not mine.”

  “If this is about the whole Daddy thing—”

  “You wanna dress up in your little Catholic schoolgirl uniform and bend over my knee for a spanking, I’m down. You want to call me Daddy, I’m good with that, too, but you better play the role that’s attached to it.”