Hard: A Step-Brother Romance

by Sosie Frost

  He offered his hand. I reflexively shook it. He nodded.

  “I’m sorry, son. But thank you for your service. You’re a hero to many people.”

  The door closed behind him.

  A hero?

  To fucking who?

  Years of training. Dedication. Motherfucking hell week—five days of physical fucking torture with no sleep—and it was over?

  How could it be over?

  How the hell could I survive the IED, the transport, the surgery, the recovery, only to have a goddamned headache prevent me from shipping back out?

  Holy Christ, I survived spider bites, lacerations, and a parachute that incorrectly deployed. A damned headache knocked me out.

  I ripped the gown off and pitched it across the room. It took out a glass container of tongue depressors. The glass didn’t shatter, but it toppled into the sink.

  It wasn’t enough, but I wasn’t trashing a doctor’s office. It wasn’t his fault he ruined my life.

  It wasn’t anyone’s fault, but it sure as hell felt like mine.

  What the fuck was I supposed to do now?

  Take money that shouldn’t have belonged to me and live some worthless life beside a pool? Grab some shitty nine-to-five to occupy my days?

  All the damn opportunity in the world, and the one thing I wanted was gone.

  Now I knew how Shay felt.

  Shay.

  Fuck.

  I couldn’t face her. How many men had the honor of telling their women they were weak? Unfit.

  Unworthy of the SEALs. Unworthy of her.

  What the fuck was I supposed to do?

  The front door slammed shut.

  The windows shook with it, scaring the absolute bejesus out of me.

  My heart just about stopped. The little library didn’t have a secondary exit to escape, not unless I wanted to climb up the fireplace. I abandoned my Kindle and dove over the couch—like the fraying afgan Gran knitted for me would protect me from goblins in my closet and intruders bursting through my door.

  I grabbed the remote and reared to throw.

  Bags thudded against the floor. I peeked at the door.

  Christ, it was just Zach.

  And he was…stripping.

  Zach peeled his shirt off. His shoes kicked off next.

  I swallowed. Pressing hard against the seam of his jeans was just the sort of trouble I knew he’d bring back from D.C.

  “You’re home.” I gripped the couch. Suddenly, I was very aware that I stole one of his shirts to sleep in…and conveniently forgot to wear any pants or panties while I snuggled into a steamy book. “I wasn’t expecting you tonight.”

  “Take it off.”

  I smirked, picking at the shirt. “I didn’t think you’d mind if I borrowed it.”

  “Take. It. Off.”

  Oh, Lord.

  His tone. That voice. The twitching muscles, rugged scars, and the devilish swirls of ink coating his chest.

  Zach’s presence was enough to undo me. Combine that with the naughty book I read?

  I wasn’t looking forward to sleeping alone tonight. Now I doubted I’d get any sleep at all.

  But I hadn’t expected to welcome him home from D.C. on my knees. In fact, I planned on avoiding him as best I could. It wasn’t that I didn’t like him staring at me, studying me as I curled the shirt over my hips, across my navel, and over the swell of my breasts.

  All I wanted was for him to stare at me. To touch me. Kiss me. Hold me.

  Stay with me.

  The shirt dropped to the floor. The cool air tickled over my skin, tightening my nipples beyond arousal and into a painful throb. Only his mouth could soothe them.

  A single word stripped my defenses and clothes. His command was issued with SEAL authority and masculine desire.

  “Come here.”

  How could anyone resist? I’d never deny a man so powerful and sexy and charming and just…perfect. Too perfect.

  My stepped padded close, slow and steady, letting the curve of my hip sway to tease his hungry gaze. I shouldn’t have encouraged this. A night with him was just another mistake.

  But letting him get into my heart was worse.

  I ignored every reasonable expectation for myself and touched the fierce ridges of his abs. The fear of losing him faded. He cupped my breast and soothed the ache inside of me.

  I wasn’t following my head. Hell, I wasn’t even following my heart. I acted on need. Selfish, stupid, terrible desire. I never should have wanted this man. Embracing him would end in heartache and misery.

  I tried not to let him close.

  Our bodies touched.

  I meant to ignore my feelings for him.

  He kissed me.

  I wished I could hate him.

  But I didn’t. Couldn’t.

  And what I did feel scared me.

  His kiss turned ferocious, and his grip on my breast fierce and possessive. He squeezed, and I fell against him.

  Even the little sting of pain felt good in his palm.

  He released my nipple to tangle his fingers in my hair. I didn’t expect him to jerk my head back. I gasped as the nip against my throat was anything but playful. He clapped his free hand against my ass and dug in. Zach pressed me against him.

  And growled.

  “I want you. Right here. Right now.”

  I rocked with shivers and shudders and excited tingles. My body answered for me, but I still purred for him—something vulgar and profane that hardened the bulge pressing into my belly.

  Zach pushed me to my knees, but he batted my hands when I launched for his zipper.

  “On your back.” His words struck deep into my core. “Spread those legs. Show me what I missed while I was away.”

  What the hell came over my charmer?

  And why did I love it so damned much?

  I did as he asked, resting on my elbows and spreading my legs in a way I never, ever exposed myself to anyone…except the man who had seen, tasted, and experienced it all before.

  I trembled. He saw everything. Every little quiver of the mocha petals, every shining slickness that became unbearable under his gaze.

  This was so naughty. Something about Zach stirred me to do things I never did before. I loved the rush of heat even if it burned through my resolve. I wanted to let him go, to fight whatever twisted feelings I had for him.

  I had to deny my attraction for my step-brother.

  A step-brother who kicked away his jeans.

  Sunk to the ground.

  Pulled my legs apart and laid me flat as he drew my hips to his mouth.

  “You have no idea how much I need this,” he said.

  I had a good idea. My core clenched as his breath brushed over my clit.

  “I thought I’d go crazy before I tasted you again. Fuck, I need you.”

  Did he not see how wet he made me? His words and demands and body had me wiggling over the carpets like a hyper puppy. I needed him too.

  “Happy to help,” I whispered.

  I reached my arms over my head and stretched out, letting his thick fingers grip my sides. His mouth fell upon my slit and sealed over my swollen nub.

  It wasn’t a tease. It wasn’t gentle. Zach devoured me—sucking, licking, feasting on everything far too sensitive for his rush of aggression and the brush of stubble from his chin.

  My heart pounded. Every little gasp encouraged him. I jerked away as he got rougher, but he liked that. Zach gripped my hips and dove in deeper. I moaned as his tongue slipped within me, lapping the cream he couldn’t reach. I whimpered as he spread my thighs wider and shoved a finger into my tightness. He drew more and more honeyed slickness into his mouth.

  And smiled.

  My God. This man absolutely worshiped my body. I could do nothing but tremble as he completely dominated me. He took his fill and explored what he wanted.

  I begged for more.

  His finger worked deep inside, pumping against the little sensitive spot within me. I s
lickened with excitement. He eagerly lapped every bit of me and more.

  “Zach…” My voice wavered. He brought me to the brink so suddenly my heart forgot to beat. Shock seized my body. I gasped for mercy, but he didn’t stop. The bastard increased his movements, thrusting his finger deeper, harder, faster, until I cried out in a constant whimper of delirious pleasure.

  “Come for me,” Zach said. “I wanna watch you come, Shay. You have no idea how bad I need to make you come.”

  I had a damn good idea. A second finger joined his first, and my desire coated him in a slickness that might have been embarrassing if he weren’t so damned eager for me to make more of a mess. I bucked my hips as he captured my clit. He suckled it between his teeth.

  I moaned, blending his name with everything and anything I ever felt for him.

  He didn’t notice.

  He fixated on my slit, staring at my tightness as his pale fingers disappeared into my clenching core. I arched, and the orgasm crushed me in a quick, crippling, beautiful agony. I gripped the carpet in a helpless shudder. Zach didn’t stop. He pistoned inside me.

  One, two, three quick bursts and I was lost.

  I collapsed against the floor and gasped his name over and over until he hauled me up and silenced my mews with his mouth.

  He tasted of me, and I fucking loved it. I flicked my tongue against his and clutched at him as hard as I could.

  “I’m not done with you yet.” His words whispered a delicious threat over me. “You’re mine for the night, Shay. Fuck, the whole weekend. I’m going to fuck you until you can’t hold yourself up anymore.”

  “Then what?”

  “Then I’ll fuck you some more.”

  Zach skipped flirting. He radiated pure sexual aggression. That was fine. No more games. No more hesitations. I just had to know.

  “What did the doctor say?”

  He tossed me to the carpet, pushing me to my knees. “Didn’t say. We’ll hear later.”

  He didn’t want to talk about it, and I wasn’t able to listen. Tremors still rocked my body, but the instant the hot shaft of his cock rested against my thighs, I needed more.

  He grunted, pushing my head down to the floor so I’d present myself to his thickening cock. I shivered. He was wild. Desperate for me. He pressed his hardness against my entrance and groaned.

  “You’re so fucking perfect. I’m going to fuck you like a damn animal and just forget everything. I want you, Shay. You want me?”

  More than anything. I’d deal with the regrets and complications between us later. Now only one thing existed in the world, and it was as hard as it had ever been.

  “Please, Zach.”

  He didn’t slip inside. He crashed. Bottomed out after one perfect strike within my core with all the ruthless strength I expected from a practiced, rutting warrior.

  I loved every single inch of it.

  He pushed me, pressed me into the carpet, laid over me with the crushing weight of his body. Zach thrust inside me until I filled with everything he gave.

  It drove the air from my lungs and the sanity from my mind.

  More.

  I bucked my hips but Zach needed no encouragement. He gripped my curves and held me still as his cock slammed ever deeper. Each conquered inch shuddered us in perfect pleasure.

  He pinned me to the floor. If he kept me trapped beneath him, I’d worship the ground he walked on. But he didn’t need to hold me down. I’d never escape from his hands, his weight, the slamming aggression of a godly cock.

  I never wanted to part from Zach.

  That much I was willing to admit. That much he already knew.

  That much I proved with every grateful moan. His body claimed mine, and I took his. In that moment, nothing about what we did could be wrong. He wasn’t my step-brother. He was a man—someone strong and sexy and absolutely devoted to my pleasure.

  And me?

  I was just as weak for him. No defenses. No fighting. His passion overwhelmed me, but I already spent every hour apart from him thinking of his body, needing his voice, stealing his shirt to wrap myself in his dusty scent.

  Now I had him. Zach’s arms clenched around me, pulling me against his chest as his cock rammed inside me. I clung to his strength, opened my legs to his need, and whimpered his name as my head fell to his shoulder.

  Harder. Desperate. Zach buried himself in me like he had something to prove, like I didn’t already know how powerful and amazing he was. He was my ideal man—strong, unyielding, and wanting my pleasure as badly as I wanted to give him his.

  “Shay…” His voice rasped, rough and dark. “I gotta come.”

  “God, yes.”

  His hand flicked low. He slapped my clit to hear my gasp and savored my tight flinch. Then he rubbed it hard against his fingers. I jerked and twitched, but he only grunted, thrusting harder to earn the catch in my voice as I cried out his name.

  The sensation turned from demanding to an unbearable quickening. Everything inside me locked over his cock. Zach gripped me against his body. His shaft pounded, forcing in as deeply as he could get it.

  Heat jetted into my core.

  And I was lost.

  I collapsed against him, supported only by the sheer muscle of his arms and how thickly his cock imbedded in my slit.

  Heat coated me from the inside, and the explosive force of his desire cast me over the edge. I shuddered in his arms, welcoming the bursting, almost-painful convulsion of my body as it rent apart and rebuilt just how he wanted me—warm, quivering, and weak for him.

  We fell to the ground, but Zach didn’t pull from me. I panted, arching to let him deeper. His cock impaled me, but the slow, leisurely pump of his shaft within my tightness was enough to draw another series of shuddered prayers from me and more jetted heat from him.

  He held me close, kissing my cheek, my neck, and pulling my hand to his lips so he could taste that too.

  I stayed silent. I didn’t trust what I’d say, what beautiful words I’d waste on a man who belonged to a life that wasn’t mine.

  Don’t go.

  Never leave me.

  I’m falling in…

  Dangerous, foolish thoughts. I cuddled against him instead, savoring his heat and hoping for nothing more than a few precious moments in his arms where life couldn’t touch us.

  And I got it.

  But it’d only delay the inevitable. The words. The heartache.

  His leaving.

  I didn’t want to be alone anymore.

  I didn’t want to be without him.

  Zach rolled me over and spread my legs.

  “Again,” he whispered. “Shay, again.”

  We’d deny the heartbreak for a little longer.

  Everything was easier with money.

  Lunch at Atlanta’s fanciest restaurant with my attorney, a representative from the bank, and my father’s chief investment officer? Easy as a phone call.

  A limo ride from my house to the meeting? The estate came with a driver.

  A salon trip to look halfway presentable? A stylist came to the mansion.

  But actually getting the money? That was much harder.

  William introduced me to Beth Hartly, my father’s pretty redheaded investor of choice. While she worked over the agreement with the trust, Albert Wright, our banking representative, ordered another round of escargot for the table.

  I was more a chili-cheese fries type of girl.

  And, after one bite of the shelled creations on the plate? My stomach agreed.

  I excused myself to the restroom as my financial and legal teams discussed how to untangle my trust from my father’s graduation clause. I darted into the stall before the escargot slithered its way back out.

  Not pleasant.

  Especially with an attendant waiting in the washroom to assist the restaurant’s patrons. It probably wasn’t in her job description to help them to their feet after they threw up half their lunch. She offered me a clean, warm cloth and said nothing as I was
hed and dried my face.

  It didn’t soothe me. My stomach still fluttered. Maybe the escargot turned into butterflies.

  I’d have to Google exactly what the hell I ate when I returned to the table.

  If I made it to the table. Gross. My stomach still hadn’t settled. I hid in the stall again. To her credit, the attendant said nothing. I shakily emerged. This time I gave a nervous shrug.

  “The food really is excellent here…” Awkward. “Don’t take that as a Yelp review.”

  “We’re pleased to hear it, Miss.”

  I hurried out of the restroom, grateful for the refilled ice water at my seat. I didn’t press it against my flushed forehead, but I guzzled it and tried to freeze whatever upset my stomach. Too bad I couldn’t blame the snails—they made me eat snails? This was the third day I wasn’t feeling great. Too much stress, too little sleep.

  Not nearly enough Zach.

  “Well, Shay,” William said. “Looks like this will be an easy fix. Your father intended the inheritance to be awarded at an appropriate age, whenever you’d require it. We can agree a college graduation was an arbitrary date, especially as he…seemed to forget precisely when you would graduate. As you’re twenty-one and he has regrettably passed, his requirements are satisfied. Provided Mr. Harden also agrees to the change in terms, your trust can be released.”

  “Zach has to agree?” I asked.

  “I hope that won’t be an issue?”

  “He should be okay with it.”

  “Good. I understand you aren’t on the best terms with your step-brother.”

  Yeah…there weren’t many more terms I could be on with Zach. We were as termed as any couple could get without actually admitting our feelings.

  The only problem was that Zach hadn’t been around much.

  At all.

  Ever since his return from Washington, and that feral, passionate night spent on the floor of the library, he pulled away. Became distant. Worse part was, I expected it.

  But it didn’t make it hurt any less.

  Zach said the doctor would eventually decide if he was fit to return to the SEALs. He waited on the verdict, but I knew the answer already.