Hard: A Step-Brother Romance

by Sosie Frost

I knocked outside her bedroom.

  No explosions. No gunshots. So far so good.

  She didn’t answer, but I didn’t expect her to welcome me with open arms and legs. I knocked again and edged inside.

  “So…you came home early…”

  Nothing.

  The room was empty. Bathwater hummed from behind the partially closed bathroom door. I watched as Shay shifted at her vanity, but I didn’t say anything. Just stood there like a damned idiot, without a single fucking idea of how to start my apology or explanation.

  The bathroom door opened. Shay shrieked.

  She hadn’t tied her silk bathrobe, and the pink graced her dark curves with a hypnotic beauty.

  I stared. Who the fuck wouldn’t?

  The softness caressed her full breasts, and the hint of her slit peeked between the short pleads of the robe. She wasn’t quick enough to hide from me. Even better, she missed the hem of the robe and revealed more. She screeched and turned to tie it. The pink silk barely kissed the bottom curve of her perfect ass.

  “Zach!” She pulled the robe’s belt tight, either to shield her nudity or because it’d be a felony to knot it around my neck. “Knock first!”

  “I did. You didn’t hear.”

  “Then don’t come in!”

  “Let me explain.”

  “Don’t start with me.”

  Shay wove her curls into a quick bun, a little too violent for the clip she jammed against her head.

  “I’ve had a horrible night,” she said. “I don’t want to hear any excuses. You’re free to hump whoever you like.” Her eyes widened, dark and brimming with tears. “But my father ruined his family because he strayed bed-to-bed. Don’t you dare make me into some other woman.”

  “Other woman?” Christ, she thought I was dating Gretchen? I took her hand before she escaped to her bath. “Gretchen isn’t my girlfriend.”

  “I don’t need the specs on your petty officer’s latest mission.”

  “She’s my doctor.”

  Shay stilled. I pulled her business card from my wallet.

  “Dr. Gretchen Mahoney,” I said.

  “Internal Medicine?” Shay flipped the card over. Her voice softened. “Why did you have a doctor in our living room?”

  Our living room.

  Fuck. I snuck into her heart with all the subtlety of a boot to the door and a flash grenade. If I blew it now, I’d wish the shrapnel had finished the job on me.

  “It’s a long story,” I said.

  She stared at the scars on my arm. “I want to hear it.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of interrupting your bath.”

  Shay hesitated, holding my gaze for any reason to stay. I held my breath as she returned to the bathroom. The faucet turned off. My chest ached in relived agony.

  She leaned against the doorway. I knew she debated if she could trust me. No reason to lie then.

  “I gotta come clean,” I said.

  She swallowed. “I figured that was coming.”

  “I’m not fucking around with Gretchen. She’s just a friend, helping me because I served with her brother. She took on my case as a favor.”

  “Your case?”

  I sat on the bed and patted next to me. Shay’s eyebrow rose like I unzipped my pants and offered her a seat on my cock.

  Why was this so hard? It wasn’t like I was still in the hospital, pissing through a tube and waiting for them to glue my skull back together. I made it out of the fucking desert alive. I healed. I survived.

  Would she see it as a miracle?

  Or would she see the same man I saw in the mirror?

  Weak. Frail. Aimless.

  “I’m not on leave.” The words stung. My hands curled into fists. Six months ago, I couldn’t even do that. Progress. “I was medically discharged.”

  Shay frowned. “You said you were going back to the SEALs in a few months.”

  “I know.”

  “You lied?”

  She bit the word. It felt like a slap across the cheek.

  “I am going back,” I said. Hope healed more than the migraine meds Gretchen tried to shove down my throat. “Now that I’ve recuperated, I’m appealing the discharge. I’m meeting with te doctors for a physical in two weeks. If they believe I’m fit to serve, they’ll issue me a medical waiver. I’ll reenlist.”

  “What do you mean recuperated?” She asked. “What happened to you?”

  Like she hadn’t seen the scars. I could pack muscle on top of more muscle, but all people saw were the purple, fading scars where my guts tried to blast out of me.

  “IED.”

  Shay edged closer to the bed. “So you were…hurt.”

  An understatement. “Yeah.”

  “How badly?”

  “A couple fractures short of entering a classified Navy SEAL cyborg program.”

  “Zach. Talk to me.”

  I sighed. Shay slipped to my side. I smiled as she tugged the robe over the sinful darkness of her thighs. That little silky reveal was enough to refuel me for another tour.

  “It was bad,” I said. “I’m…not at liberty to tell you where I was or what I was doing there. I can say I’m damn lucky that I made it back to the helicopter. I should be another bloodstain in the sand.”

  Her eyes widened. She traced a shiny scar over my wrist. “But you’re okay now?”

  “Of course,” I lied.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were on a medical leave?”

  “Because there’s a chance they won’t grant me that waiver. They might not clear me to re-enlist. If that happens…”

  I eyed the master suite. The estate grew on me. I still couldn’t find my way through it in the dark, but a man got used to living every day as a fantasy.

  Especially when the most beautiful woman in the world caressed a scar that came from a fireworks accident when I was fifteen, not the explosion that nearly ripped my skull apart.

  I brushed her hand with mine. The simple contact was better than any morphine they shot in my veins at the VA hospital. “Last night, you asked me what would happen if the one thing you wanted in life was taken from you?” I met her gaze. “I understand that fear. Completely.”

  “You want to go back to the SEALs?”

  “More than anything.”

  “But it almost killed you.”

  “It’s my life. Wanted it since I was a kid. I didn’t have much of a family, and I thought my dad was a soldier. It seemed a natural life for me.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “I did,” I said. “I liked the travel and excitement. Never had a reason to stay at home.”

  Until now.

  I didn’t say it. Probably should have.

  “I’m sorry.” Shay looked away. “Oh hell. I sounded like an idiot downstairs.”

  “I didn’t tell you Gretchen was my doctor when you first met her. I didn’t want you to know I had been hurt overseas.”

  “That was dumb.”

  Yep. Especially after I realized a girl didn’t get that jealous for nothing. “I promise. Nothing’s happening between me and her. Gretchen’s engaged. I have more to worry about than you.”

  “Why?”

  “Well…” I grinned, grateful for the conversation change. “She’s a lesbian.”

  “That is a relief.”

  “Should I be concerned?”

  Shay’s playful tone amused me more than her robe slipping over her shoulders. “No, I’ve been very satisfied lately.”

  “Just satisfied?”

  She hummed. “As much as can be expected.”

  “I’ll have to work harder. No one’s ever accused me of being adequate.”

  Shay didn’t want to play. She tucked a falling curl behind her ear. I wished she let me do it for her. A brush to her cheek tempted me more than night between the sheets. Every second she allowed me to touch her cocoa skin was a gift, a blessing second only to her smile.

  So why did her smile fade?

  “You came back early,�
�� I said. “Everything okay?”

  She nodded. I didn’t believe her. I took her hand.

  She let me hold it.

  I’d explode just imagining her lithe, gentle fingers pumping my cock.

  “It was a rough night,” she said. “My friends…weren’t acting like my friends.”

  “What’d they do?”

  “Asked for money.” Her eyes rose to mine, honest and desperate. “And I would have helped, I would have. But…I don’t have the trust. And they got mad...”

  Shay was as lovely on the inside as out. She’d spend her last cent trying to make sure everyone was happy. She’d run errands, copy homework, and give money because she mistook gratitude for love. And her asshole friends seemed the type to exploit it.

  I tugged her close, surprised when she rested her head on my shoulder. “You don’t owe them anything, baby.”

  “But I will help them.”

  “I know.”

  “I just hoped tonight would let me clear my mind. I needed…to think.”

  And I needed to kiss her. Maybe that was her problem. Too much thinking, not enough kissing, touching, and fucking.

  “They didn’t even try to help with Professor Sweeten. They asked how I pissed her off and then…bam. And Heaven, I swear, she better not come near me again. Not unless she’s on her knees and I’m on my way out of church.”

  “Sounds like a rough night.”

  “Why are you the only one who understands?” She swallowed. “Why are you the only one who even tries to understand?”

  “Because I know what it’s like to have everything but still lose the one you want.”

  Shay quieted. I thought I blew it. It sounded romantic in my head, but what the hell did I know? There was still too much shrapnel, swelling, and half of the desert rattling around my brain for me to make sense of most things.

  I should have spelled it out for her. Laid it all out and waited for the rejection.

  But I always did like torturing myself. Kicking my own ass meant I was getting stronger. Worked in the weight room, on the battlefield, and in the bedroom.

  I didn’t have to say a damn thing. Shay reached for me, her delicate fingers stroking over my cheek. She leaned in, gentle, and kissed me.

  Goddamn, those lips. With a single nibble to my bottom lip, Shay might have asked me to burn down the damn estate, and I’d have agreed with the flick of my tongue against hers. My cock throbbed for her. I shifted in my jeans, but that gave it room to get harder.

  I wanted this fucking woman.

  I wanted everything about her. The pouty lips. Those hidden curves under the robe. Her body. Her heat.

  Her dreams. Her secrets. Her every vulnerable thought.

  And, in return? I’d be the one there for her. Her douche-bag friends or absent father would never hurt her again. I’d comfort her. Hold her. Kiss her.

  Until I shipped back out.

  Holy Christ.

  I spent two months in the hospital and six in therapy. Every damned second of my recovery was spent forcing myself to take the next step, add the next weight, and meet the next challenge.

  I never had a reason to stay that could compete with my desire to go.

  Until her.

  Shay stood. I curled my fingers in the comforter so I wouldn’t throw her onto the bed. She tickled the knot of her belt.

  The silk opened.

  Fell away.

  And she stood before me in perfect, goddess-like perfection.

  Dark. Sensual. Curvy and feminine and absolutely utterly beautiful, from the ebony curls of her hair to the swell of her breasts and the hidden treasure tucked between her thighs. She let the robe drop to the ground and turned. Her firm ass brought a man to his knees quicker than a gun slammed into the back of the head.

  She escaped into the bathroom. I stared after her, my heart punching a hole in my chest.

  The water started again. Her voice echoed from the tub.

  “Zach?” Her words were a light tease. “Are you coming in or not?”

  Heading to campus sucked.

  Just plain sucked.

  That’s why I didn’t do it alone.

  Zach didn’t know how much it meant for him to tag along. Unfortunately, he decided to cheer me up on the back of his Harley. In a history of bad ideas, crawling onto a two-wheeled monstrosity driven by a guy named Hard might have been my most dangerous adventure. It still wasn’t my worst idea, but if I cracked my skull off the asphalt or swallowed just one bug, so help me God…

  “Are you sure this thing is safe?” I bit my nail. Zach fit a helmet over my head. The dimples flashed. He thought my reluctance was hilarious. “I’m really not brave enough for this.”

  “It’s fine. Once you hop out of a helo in hostile territory under enemy fire, a little bike ride seems pretty relaxing.” Zach wore a pair of sunglasses. Aviator. Like he tried to be the cliché soldier. It worked. “Still, I’d rather tour Afghanistan on the bike than take I-75.”

  “You think you’re so cute.”

  “So do you.”

  I wasn’t answering that. He had to work for it. And, knowing Zach? He would.

  Eagerly. Like a little boy in a candy store.

  “Come on. I’ll ride you to the campus, then we’ll get lunch.”

  I secured my backpack and triple checked it wouldn’t spill my life onto the highway. “Lunch?”

  “That okay?”

  He said it so casually.

  Sure, I made a scene when I invited him into my bathtub. And yes, he fulfilled his promise when I finally granted him entry into the master bedroom. But lunch?

  Somehow that changed our arrangement to something…different. Good different, but still confusing and exposed. My emotions blended into a weird cocktail of Zach and went straight to my head.

  Really, lunch was where our relationship should have began. I went from leaping into bed with him to hating his guts and back again. That emotional whiplash hadn’t stopped for small-talk, baby pictures, or embarrassing stories about our prior relationships.

  Had we done it right, I would have started by smiling at him over a menu, flirting by biting a straw, and then excusing myself from the table so he could watch my ass sway. Now we were a couple sways too late for that. Probably a few bounces, spanks, and wiggles too.

  Zach shifted his long legs over the motorcycle. He patted behind him.

  “Better hang on tight,” he said. “You know. Like last night.”

  I smacked him through the helmet, picking a path over the coiled parts and chrome finish. I awkwardly fit onto the seat. I had no choice but to cling to Zach. The bike angled, and my waist ground against his back.

  Just what we needed while flying down the highway at sixty miles an hour.

  Zach patted my knee and pulled my arms over him.

  “Lean when I lean. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  Yeah, and Eve trusted the serpent too.

  The bike rumbled under us. The first few turns I screeched instead of leaned, but Zach’s heated laugh warmed me. I focused on his movements. By the time we reached the highway I had enough confidence to open my eyes. I clung to his broad shoulders and let the morning wash over us.

  A motorcycle. A SEAL. Zach even made baking a pie sexy. I fought to not fall head-over-heels for him if only so I wouldn’t tumble from the bike.

  The bag rested heavy on my shoulders. I brought my schedule, my information, and a formal letter of withdrawal. I managed to not cry when typing it up. Printing the document was another story. That emotional breakdown ended with streaked lines, broken toner, and half a package of Oreos to soothe me.

  My goal in life.

  Gone.

  Hell reserved a special circle for horrible professors. The ones who promised to grade on a curve and didn’t. Those who never graded their tests and only posted scores the day before finals. The absent-minded flakes who forgot to assign homework in class and instead emailed the assignment the night before it was due.<
br />
  The cruel monsters who crushed innocent students trying to get ahead.

  I didn’t care about the money I lost in tuition, just how hard I busted my ass to get on the Dean’s List. All that wasted time. Then again, what did time matter to me? It wasn’t like I was in a hurry to find a job and make money. I’d transfer to another school, take my classes, and then do student teaching with a saner advisor.

  And I had to prepare to do it alone.

  My friends weren’t in a chatty mood after I stormed out of dinner—especially as the forty dollars I tossed on the table didn’t cover all their meals. And Zach…

  Zach wouldn’t be hanging around either. My heart ached. I’d actually miss my nuisance house guest when he re-enlisted in the SEALs.

  Though I’d rather lose him to a deployment than anything worse.

  I didn’t want to imagine something bad happening to him.

  I gripped him harder. He didn’t seem to notice—the bastard was too busy accelerating, splitting a lane between two cars and edging onto the exit ramp. I pinched my eyes shut and clung to him as the bike roared over the road.

  He didn’t just get off picking up pretty girls from bars. He was a pure adrenaline junkie. No wonder he wanted in the SEALs. He acted like a total idiot as a civilian.

  We cruised to the campus and parked outside the administration offices. I hobbled off and handed him my helmet.

  “Want me to come in with you?” He asked.

  Escort me through this hostile territory? Not without a polo shirt as camouflage, his gun exchanged for a laptop bag, and his radio swapped for Beats headphones. I shook my head.

  “I’ll handle it.”

  He didn’t remove the sunglasses. That only attracted glances from passing girls. He grinned as I spied a cluster emerging from the nearby dorms.

  “They’re freshman,” I warned. “Look, but don’t touch.”

  He quirked an eyebrow. “They don’t got a thing on you, baby.”

  Christ, I believed him. Again. That would have to stop.

  Or did it?

  Ugh. Not what I needed to worry about while facing the crumbling foundation of my future.

  I marched into the administrative offices with all the confidence I could fake. The secretary greeted me with oversized glasses and undersized patience. I tried to smile, but I didn’t know what expression said Hi, I’m dropping out of college and disappointing generations of my family. Where do I sign?