Bad Romance

by Jen McLaughlin

  By the time I returned, she’d relaxed back against the couch, her hands resting on her flat stomach. Her thighs were parted ever so slightly, and I knew if I crawled between them and kissed her, she wouldn’t say a damn thing to stop me. Knew I could have her, if only I decided to forget about what I really wanted, and stopped worrying enough to take what she offered. If only I could go back to being the selfish bastard I truly was.

  But I’d worked hard to keep my distance from her these past few days. To treat her as a stepbrother should. I couldn’t let all that hard work fade away.

  So instead of doing that, I sat down beside her.

  And kept my damn hands to myself.

  “How’s work going?” I asked, feeling like an idiot. I was no good at small talk, and now was no exception. I would rather ask her if she would like me to get her off again than talk about her job. Which was why I didn’t make a good person. “Do you get paid yet?”

  She laughed. “No. Daddy says I need to prove my worth before I get a real salary. He doesn’t believe in handing things to someone just because they’re his kid.”

  “Yeah, I remember that,” I said, thinking back on all my encounters with good ol’ Walt. “All too well.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure.” She stared off into the distance, at nothing I could see, smiling slightly. “I’ve only got ten more months till I’m in, though.”

  “Wow.” I shook my head. “A whole year?”

  “Yeah.” The smile slipped away. “Twice as long as any other intern.”

  Damn, her father was even more of a prick than I remembered—and that was saying a hell of a lot. “If you could do anything, anything at all, what would it be?”

  She swallowed. “That’s a deep question.”

  “Sorry.” I wasn’t. “If you asked me a month ago, I’d say I would go back to my platoon, be back in the trenches with the guys. Now I’m really hoping the Hawaii thing works out. Being a recruiter is different, but it still has that army brotherhood I love so much. It’s not the future I thought I’d have, but it seems like it would be a pretty good one.” I swallowed back some beer. “Your turn.”

  “You just have an answer all ready to go, don’t you?” she muttered.

  “Doc Greene makes me talk about the future a lot,” I said quickly. “I saw her today, and we talked about it.”

  She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. “What about a wife? Kids? A house with a white picket fence and a dog?”

  “I don’t want it. Any of it.”

  She tilted her head inquisitively. Christ, I loved it when she did that. “Why not? What do you have against a family?”

  “I’m a loner, a free spirit. Mom’s been harping on me ever since I mentioned I might come home, and it’s killing me. She’s smothering me, and it’s only through the phone.” I took another sip of beer. “I can’t imagine being with one person for the rest of my life, having to check in constantly, and not feeling trapped by that life. And if my fictional wife decided she hated me, we’d be stuck. If I get married, I want it to last. Divorce shouldn’t be an escape route. So our fictional kids would be trapped in a toxic environment with two parents who can’t stand each other.”

  I refused to let my mind go to the one woman whom I might be able to happily spend a lifetime with. After all, she might end up marrying someone else out of duty.

  Twisting the beer, she lowered her head. “You’re assuming you would grow to dislike each other. But what if you could be happy for the rest of your lives? What if the woman you married was the person you’ve been waiting for your whole life? What if you pass up your soul mate because you’re too scared to risk it?”

  Still not thinking about it. I didn’t even believe in soul mates. You either liked someone, or you didn’t. End of story. “What if you pass yours up while you’re married to Preppy Prick?”

  She blanched. “I don’t know.”

  Well, shit. I hadn’t even lasted twenty minutes before breaking my vow not to poke at her any more about that marriage. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” I muttered.

  “It’s okay. You’re right. I might miss out on that. On all of it. The happiness. The laughter. The love.” She sighed. “And that would suck, but it is what it is. Sometimes life isn’t fair. Sometimes you don’t get what you want. We can’t all get happy endings, can we?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered honestly. I tightened my hold on my beer, seeming to realize at the same time as her how close we sat to one another. Our legs were both turned in, knees brushing, and her hand rested on my thigh.

  How the hell had that happened?

  She jerked her hand back, and we both jumped up.

  “I’m tired,” she blurted out.

  “I’m going to do the dishes,” I said at the same time.

  We laughed and went to pass one another, but we both went the same way. The end result was my chest pressed against hers, and her hands on my hips. Her perfume washed over me, and I groaned. Actually groaned.

  “Sorry. Sorry.”

  Lilly backed up, tucking her hair behind her ears, her cheeks even pinker than before. Her fingers trembled as she lowered them, and I knew—I damn well knew—she trembled with desire. For me. “You know, for a man who values the concept of brotherhood so much, I think you’re not giving yourself enough credit about your potential as a husband. Marriage just means you’re on a different kind of team.”

  Her jaw worked for a moment as if she was debating saying something else, before bolting for the stairs, and I watched her go, my mind finally thinking about it. What it would be like if Lilly was free. What life could be like if I married her.

  I reminded myself of all the reasons why following her up to her room was a horrible idea. If I let her in, it wouldn’t just be her heart breaking in the end. Her level of self-sacrifice astounded me, and I couldn’t pressure her any longer to go against her principles. If she decided she had to marry Derek, then I wouldn’t stand in her way.

  Besides, what did I have to offer her?

  I was living in her home, free of charge, on her charity. I only had seven years of banked army pay in my accounts. If I went up those stairs, if I knocked on her door, she would become my world. I wouldn’t care that she was my stepsister, about the scandal our relationship would create, about the fact she was promised to another man.

  All I’d care about would be her.

  I would lose control over my own fate. My happiness. It would all belong to Lilly. She’d hold everything I was in her hands. After years of being unable to control anything in my life, I wasn’t ready to give up control like that again. I couldn’t be helpless like that.

  Vulnerable.

  Even for her.

  She could never just be my stepsister now. If I was being honest with myself, she first started to worm her way into my heart when she brought me those damn cookies. When she took the time to write a scared, eighteen-year-old, wet-behind-the-ears army grunt.

  Getting to know her now, all over again, it was only getting worse.

  She was incredible. Amazing. One of a kind. And not mine.

  I cleaned up untouched pizza and empty beer bottles, then drank a few more. I lost track of how much time passed, but it had to have been at least a few hours. When I climbed the stairs, the room spun a little bit, and I held the railing to steady myself. I had hoped drinking the rest of the beer would dull the aching void that Lilly Hastings had left behind in me. Had hoped it would temper the lust. The need. The pain.

  It didn’t.

  If anything, it made it stronger.

  I clung to the railing, blinking against the darkness as I finished climbing the stairs. When I reached her door, I stopped. For a second, just a damn second, I fought with myself. I could go in, wake her up with a kiss, and take her. Settle for whatever scraps of her I could get before she agreed to marry Derek.

  But I couldn’t. Shouldn’t. Wouldn’t.

  “Jackson…yes, God, yes.”

  I stiffen
ed, resting a hand on the doorjamb and leaning closer. Had I seriously just heard that? Or was it all in my imagination? It had to be the beer messing with my—

  “Jackson,” she moaned again. “Ohhhh…”

  Look, there was only so much a man like me could take.

  Even a saint wouldn’t have been able to walk away from that door—and I’d already established several times now that I was no damn saint. If she was going to touch herself, and pretend it was me, there was no way in hell I was walking away.

  I wasn’t a good-enough man. And I never would be.

  Especially after this.

  Breath held, I turned the knob, half hoping it was locked, mostly hoping it wasn’t. Hell, even if it was, I probably would have knocked down the damn door to get to her.

  It cracked open without objection.

  Stumbling in, I ripped my shirt off as I walked over to the bed. She lay in the middle of it, breathing heavily, blankets kicked off. Her perfect thighs were parted, and her hand pressed against her clit, underneath her thin, lacy panties. They hid nothing at all, and yet hid too much. I could see her pink, rosy lips, and I could see how wet she was. But I couldn’t see the way her finger thrust into her soft pussy, or how crazy she drove herself while she played with her clit.

  It was still, hands down, the most erotic thing I’d ever seen in my life.

  Part of me expected her to freeze up on seeing me. For her to stammer apologies, or blush, or grab the covers. Something modest and innocent. But she stared at me, biting down on her lip, and moved her fingers even harder. Even faster.

  And then she groaned.

  I choked on nothing at all, ripped my pants open, and let them hit the floor. “I’m going to fuck you, and nothing—nothing—will stop me.”

  “God, yes. Jackson.” She moaned and arched her hips, still rubbing herself, her lips parting as she cried out. “It’s about damn time.”

  I couldn’t look away, and I squeezed my cock as I watched, needing a little bit of reprieve from the need crashing into me relentlessly. There was no more time, or need, for words. Not anymore. We’d said it all. Thought it all.

  Now it was time to shut up, ignore it all, and just do.

  Chapter 16

  Lilly

  When I first saw him standing there, highlighted by the hallway light behind him, I was so sure I was still dreaming. Like usual, I awoke touching myself and trying my best to come. Usually when I woke up, the excitement he brought me in my sleep slowly faded away….

  Until I was just a girl with her hand down her panties.

  But this time, when I came to, he was standing there, undressing. A dream come true. And, at that moment, I didn’t care why he’d changed his mind, so long as he gave me some relief from the need coursing through me.

  He crawled in between my legs, dropping kisses up my thighs. “I’m done resisting this. Done fighting. I’m not a good-enough guy to do it.”

  I cried out, still rolling my fingers over my throbbing clitoris as he went. His hand slammed down on mine, and he held me still. I cried out in anger, my breaths coming quicker than the time I ran a 5K for charity. “Jackson.”

  “If you’re going to come with my name on your lips, you can be damned sure it’s because I’m the one making you come,” he said, his voice all growly and sexy and seductive. “That orgasm making your nipples tighten and your breath come hard and fast? It’s mine.”

  I moaned, his words sending me even closer to the release I knew only he could give me. “Then take it, damn it.”

  He tore—literally tore—my panties off me, lifted my ass up by cupping it, and closed his mouth over me. The second his tongue touched my already sensitive clit, I was screaming and clawing my way to an orgasm. It hit me instantly, rolling through my veins until nothing but pleasure existed. He didn’t stop there, though. He lightened his strokes, thrusting a finger inside me as he drove me mad.

  “Oh my—stop.” I dug my hands in his hair and pulled, but he didn’t even flinch. “Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop. Stop. Don’t—agh.”

  I lifted my hips higher, the orgasm that was building starting in my stomach, and slowly fanning out through my whole body via my veins, making me go all numb and tingly. It was stronger than I’d ever felt before, slowly building up speed until it crashed over me and would have drowned me if I hadn’t been holding on tightly to Jackson.

  This time, he let me fall to the mattress.

  As soon as he knelt between my thighs, I sat up. Licking my dry lips, my body still humming with the orgasm he gave me, I skimmed my fingers over his shaft. It was so hard, yet so soft, all at the same time. “My turn.”

  He stiffened. “Lilly…yes, fuck, yes.”

  I’d never done this before, but I knew what to do. Or at least, I hoped I did. I’d read enough romance books, and even watched a porno or two in an attempt to feel something down there, so I had the basics down. I took a deep breath and ran my tongue up his hard length.

  He stiffened and let out a strangled groan. “Jesus. More.”

  Cupping his balls gently, I squeezed ever so slightly and sucked him into my mouth. He tasted good—a little bit salty and way too sexy—and I needed to stretch my jaw wide to fit him all in. Moaning, I rolled my tongue over the head of his erection, pulling on his balls at the same time.

  He groaned, long and hard, and buried his hands in my hair. “Yes. Just like that, love.”

  When he let out a bunch of curses and pushed farther into my mouth, my confidence grew even more. I pulled back, almost releasing him from my mouth, before slamming him back inside. He moaned, his abs twitching, and yanked on my hair.

  It stung, but in a good way. And it made me want to make him lose control even more. Like he did to me. I moaned and took him in deeper, until he hit the back of my throat. I relaxed, focusing on taking him inside me, and sucked so hard I hollowed out my cheeks.

  “Shit, damn—I’m gonna come already,” he growled, tugging on my hair. I resisted, refusing to stop until he came. Until I tasted him in my mouth. “You have to stop or I’ll—Christ.”

  I sucked harder, moving up and down his shaft, and he lost it.

  Curses flew as he pumped his hips gently, his grasp on my hair unyielding. “Lilly, Jesus. Yes. Yes.”

  He thrust one last time, and his whole body went stiff, his mouth went lax, and he threw his head back. The hot spurt of semen hit my tongue, and I sucked it up, swallowing every last drop. And I immediately wanted more. I pulled back, flicked my tongue over the head of his shaft, and didn’t let go.

  “Can I do that again?”

  “Lilly.” He let out a half moan, half laugh, and moved back, rubbing his neck. “Yes, but not right this second. If you did, I might die.”

  I licked my lips and wiped a palm across them. “Are you sure?”

  He watched me as I wiped off, and his gaze heated all over again. “You are, without a doubt, the hottest, sexiest, most open woman I have ever been with.”

  I swallowed hard because I didn’t know what to say to that.

  Mostly because now I wanted to know how many women he had been with, but I would never ask. Not even the new me would go there. It would only make me jealous of all the women he had taken before me. And it would only make me think of all the women he would take when he was finished with me, too.

  His insistence he’d never get married made me inexplicably sad. I hated the idea of him with someone else, but I equally hated the idea of him being alone. Trying to lighten the mood, I said, “You’re the sexiest man I’ve ever been with, too.”

  He threw his head back and laughed. It was the best sound I’d ever heard. “I’m the only man you’ve ever been with.”

  “Hmm…” I tapped my finger to my mouth and pretended to be lost in thought. “You’re right. I can’t really make that claim until I do some comparisons. For, you know, research—oof.”

  He landed on me, sheltering my body with his arms as we fell to the mattress. “Enough of that,�
�� he whispered, kissing my neck. “You’ve got me. That’s all you need.”

  My heart impossibly stopped, right then and there, before speeding up. Did that mean this wasn’t another one-time thing? That he wouldn’t leave me and go back to resisting? Because if so, I was so on board with that. He was the only man I wanted. The only man I ever wanted. “What are you saying?”

  Jackson

  As soon as she asked me, I knew what she was really asking. She wanted to know if this was another one-time thing, or if I intended to do it again. And up until this moment, I didn’t really know. I hadn’t planned to take her again. Had been doing my best not to. But all that changed the second I’d stopped outside her door.

  I reared back, studying her. She stared at me as if she was almost…afraid of me. Which made no sense at all. I’d never willingly hurt her. “I’m only gonna be around for a little while longer. If I get the job, when I get it, I’ll leave for Hawaii and move on with my life. So…for a little while, let’s do this. Be us. As long as we both know there’s an expiration date. No happy endings.”

  “Sure,” she said slowly. “I’m aware of all of this.”

  She agreed with me, but it didn’t feel completely right.

  I almost wanted her to argue that we had a future.

  “No one can know.” I slid my hand up her thigh, ever so slowly, and dug my fingers into it, ignoring my unspoken wishes for a happy ending, despite my words. “It’s our secret, staying behind these walls.”

  She hesitated but nodded. “What made you change your mind?”

  I paused, looking down at her, the room’s shadows hiding her eyes. I shrugged, trying to ignore the fact that none of this felt right. That I wanted to be more than a fucking dirty little secret. “You’re an amazing woman and if this is all I’ll ever have of you, I’ll take it. And if you get married, we go on with life and pretend this never happened. Go back to being just stepsiblings.”

  She bit down on her tongue and nodded again. “We don’t have any other choice, right?”