Secret: A Military Stepbrother Romance

by Irons, Aubrey

  “I need you to fuck me.”

  Hunter’s eyes flash with heat, his jaw tightening as he grips his cock in his hand and moves towards me.

  “Fuck me,” I husk out, feeling his hands slide over my ass and his cock press against the slippery wetness of my pussy. I look back at him once more, “Don’t be gentle.”

  I cry out as I lurch forward, my hands splayed across the mirror as Hunter drives his cock balls-deep in me on the first stroke. He grinds against me, pressing the head of him deep inside before he pulls back, only to thrust in again. Pleasure rolls over me as he starts to drive into me again and again, his hands tight on my ass, holding my skirt around my waist as he buries that wonderful dick in me again and again.

  His palm comes down across my ass, making me whimper and clench around him as the heat blooms across my skin.

  “Oh fuck yes…” I moan out, clawing at the glass under my nails as Hunter fucks me hard and fast. His hips are a blur as they slap against mine, his hands alternating between spanking my ass and teasing over the skin as he drives his big cock into me again and again, hitting that perfect sweet spot on every thrust.

  This is madness, and utterly insane, but I can’t say no to any of it. This is wild, and explosive, and I know it’s only a matter of time before the whole thing blows up in our faces, but I know there’s no way I’m walking away from this. I’m lost in him, and I’m being consumed by him, and I’m pretty sure I love it.

  I’m pretty sure I love—

  I let that thought trail off as I feel his hands sliding around to run his fingers over my clit. I gasp as his fingers slide across my slippery lips, feeling the place where we join and letting his thumb roll across my clit. He’s straight up fucking me, slamming into me again and again like a man possessed, driving forward against the counter with every thrust and dominating me in a way that has my mouth hanging opening and my fingers barely holding on to that last ledge before I fall.

  “I want to feel you come for me, Maddie,” he growls, leaving forward to husk the words into my ear. “I want to feel that sweet, tight little pussy come all over my cock, while I fuck you in this bathroom like a dirty, dirty girl.”

  I barely manage to bury my mouth against my arm as the cry comes tearing out of me, and as he grinds deep, I feel the whole world sort to fall away around me.

  “Come for me, Maddie,” he whispers. “My naughty girl.”

  And that does it. The jolt of my climax freezes my body before I just explode for him, feeling the electric roar of my orgasm tear through my body and explode out through the ends of my fingers and my toes. Hunter drives in deep one more time, and I feel his cock throbbing and pulsing as he releases his hot cum inside me. He throws his head back in a silent roar as he slams into me, emptying every drop in me.

  *****

  And when we make our descent into San Francisco four and a half hours later, I don’t even feel the turbulence, or flinch when the wheels come down, or make a single peep as we touch down across the tarmac.

  Because I know there’s absolutely nothing to worry about.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  I spend the last four and a half hours of the flight holding her hand.

  What the hell is going on with me?

  I mean, sure, I’m also grinning away thinking about how I just fucked her brains out in the bathroom, but it’s more than that; a fucking lot more than that.

  Because somehow when I wasn’t looking, this girl became everything to me. She’s somehow taken over my mind, and slipped her way inside my heart. I want to be crude and say it’s because she has a “magic pussy” or something even filthier about the fact that she’s not only let me, but asked me to take her ass twice more since that night in the Oval Office.

  I want to say this is just us having fun, and keep pretending that this is just fun, dirty, kinky sex between two people who happen to have a fun time with each other.

  Those might be part of it, but I’d be a fucking idiot and a liar if I thought that was the whole story. Because it’s so much more than that.

  It’s the fact that she’s the first thing I want to see when I wake up and the last thing before I fall asleep. It’s that I absolutely hate that I can’t really sleep in her room because that’s pushing it with the bodyguards and security and the scrutiny, and I hate that those are the kind of thoughts I’m having.

  I’ve fucked a hundred women, and never once been upset when I couldn’t spend the night. Hell, I’ve mostly been pissed when I felt like I did have to; always looking for an exit, a way out.

  I’m not looking for an exit right now; not with her.

  *****

  Part of me feels a pang of jealousy when we get to the hotel and I see all the other agents scoping the place out, running through plans with hotel security, and keeping an eye on things as we step from the motorcade and wave to the crowd of onlookers.

  None of them know, of course, that I could probably still smell Maddie’s pussy on my fingers from the quick fun we had in the backseat of the Escalade on the way from the airport. And I’m also betting none of them imagine that Maddie literally just finished swallowing a load of my cum not five minutes before we pulled up.

  It’s amazing how much fun it is to know something everyone else doesn’t.

  But yeah, there’s a little bit of jealousy watching these guys do the job I worked so hard to get. The job I gave up when Eleanor and my dad went public.

  We check in, and I realize that Maddie and I get a whole fucking wing of the hotel to ourselves, and that pang of regret somehow gets smoothed right over. Thirty minutes later, when I’m sneaking across the hall into her room, stripping down, and joining her in the shower, I’ve already forgotten about any sort of job-related bullshit.

  Let ‘em sweep for bomb traces, and scope around for sniper spots, or double check egress plans; I’m far too busy sinking my cock inside of this girl to even think about that.

  Except later, when we’re lounging on the bed, Maddie napping with her head on my chest and my hand stroking her hair, my mind does start to wander to other things again. Everything I don’t want to think about suddenly starts to bubble to the surface then, before I can shove it back down.

  Because, yes, this right here is perfect. This moment in time right here in bed with Maddie’s cheek against my chest and her leg over mine as she breathes slowly in her sleep is perfect. But what happens when this thing hits the wall? In a few months, I know it it will.

  In a few months, we’re not going to be “almost the first step-siblings” we’re actually going to be step-siblings. Right now, we’re having fun, and pretending nothing can touch us, but as much as we don’t want to think about it, the wedding will change all that. Unofficially, the wedding between her mom and my dad is the end of everything we’re doing here. Because like it or not, Maddie and I, and whatever this thing is, has an expiration date.

  And I fucking hate it.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  “What is it about backstage areas that gets me so hard for you?”

  I smirk, feeling Hunter’s lips against my ear as we wait in the wings of the auditorium stage for my mother’s final address to the audience. That’s why we’re here, to trot out after she’s done wowing them to wave and bring it all home.

  At this point, I get it. I get the pageantry of it all, and I understand that this is all part of the wildly stressful job my mother willingly does every day. So what, I have to smile on stage here and there for front page stories and political blogs about how “fierce” or how “bold and inspiring” my mother is?

  There are worse jobs, really.

  I grin and turn at Hunter’s words, smiling up into his face while we’re hidden in the shadows like that.

  “Probably because you’re the creepy stalker-type and women alone in dark, shadowy areas just do it for you,” I say with as much mock sincerity as I can muster on my face.

  He snorts out a laugh as I cave and stick my tongue out at him. “Pegged;
you got me.”

  He kisses me then, and it’s something tender and hot as it sears across my lips and radiates through my whole body.

  “Or maybe it’s because it reminds me of first meeting you,” he says with a grin as he pulls away.

  This time it’s my turn to laugh. “Ahh, yes, our sweet and romantic first encounter.”

  I roll my eyes as I wrap my arms around his torso, “They should really option that for a movie deal at some point.”

  “They have, but you need to be eighteen and have a credit card in order to see it.”

  I laugh as he kisses me again, wrapping his arms around me and holding me close.

  “Or maybe,” he whispers against my lips. “Maybe I just like having you all to myself away from all the bullshit of the world.”

  “That works,” I whisper with a grin as I kiss him again.

  The sound of muffled laughter and footsteps has us backing away from each other as Emma comes stomping around the corner with Dexter in tow.

  “Oh!” She says quickly, her eyebrows shooting up behind her glasses before she quickly smiles. “Why hello you two, come here often?” She’s grinning oddly at me; almost as odd as her trying to make a weird joke for the first time since I’ve actually known her.

  Emma quickly looks at Hunter. “Mr. Ryan, you’re actually just the man I was looking for.”

  “Aww, I thought I was special,” Dexter snorts. “She just said the same thing to me.”

  Emma flushes red and rolls her eyes before her face goes back her normal all-business look.

  “Actually, I do need you both. The Times is here, and they’d like a quick photo op with the two brothers for an article they’re doing on your father.”

  “Sounds like fun, right?” Dexter says, rolling his eyes.

  Hunter frowns as he looks at his watch. “We’ve got time for that?” Emma looks over her glasses and down her nose at him, and he laughs. “Right, the queen of schedules.” He shoots me a quick look with his back to them. “Duty calls?”

  They all turn to leave, and he gives me one last subtle and hidden hand squeeze before they head off to find the Times photographer.

  ‘Maybe I just like having you all to myself away from all the bullshit of the world.’

  It’s a sentiment I feel as well, but there’s another level to the statement that we still don’t talk about. There’s another side to that coin that we’ve been willfully ignoring while this whole thing has gotten totally out of control. And it’s the unspoken part that sends a dull ache through my gut.

  The part that says this has to be in the shadows.

  We’re not just hiding this away so we don’t have to deal with people’s opinions, we’re hiding it away because it’s a necessity of the lives we lead. And that’s a sad state of affairs, knowing I can’t tell a soul about the man that makes me feel like I’ve never felt before.

  I can’t tell a soul about the man I lo—

  “I always knew you were damaged.”

  The voice from my past, the voice of fear and fury and pain has me gasping as I whirl.

  Harry.

  Harry the ex from Chicago. Harry the asshole, the cheater, the manipulator.

  Harry who hit me.

  His hair is a bit shaggier, his pallor a little paler, and his eyes a little more dangerous looking than the last time we spoke; that last time when I was running screaming from him after he’d smacked me across the face.

  “Harry?” I say weakly, all strength leaving my voice as my legs suddenly turn to jell-o. “What— how did you get in here?”

  He grins this lopsided, sneering grin at me as he pulls a bottle of something out of his jacket pocket and takes a swig as he shrugs.

  “Harry,” I say, trying to keep my voice from shaking. “Harry you shouldn’t be—”

  “You know, it’s disgusting,” he says with a sneer, shaking his head at me. His eyes burn into me, the scent of alcohol creeping over me. “But like I said, I knew you were damaged goods.”

  “Harry, I don’t know what you—”

  “I mean your brother, Maddie?” He snorts out a laugh, “Nice job slumming it.”

  “I think you should leave, Harry,” I say, mustering as much strength in my voice as I can.

  He grins and shakes his head. “Nah, I don’t think so. You see, we belong together, you and I.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “You belong to me,” he says darkly, the tone of his voice and leer in his eyes making my skin crawl. “I’m your boyfriend, Maddie, and it’s time for you to quit slutting it up and learn to respect me.”

  I can feel my heart pounding in my chest and cold sweat creeping down my spine. Something unseen is pulling at every warning bell I’ve got inside, something that tells me I should run.

  I whirl away from him, but his hand on my arm is stronger than I remember as he yanks me back around, almost pulling me off my feet. Out of nowhere, I’m looking right into the blade of a gleaming knife in his hand.

  The world sort of fades away around me until it’s just me, Harry, and the knife, alone in the darkness. And suddenly there’s only one thought in my head: I don’t want to die.

  Harry grins evilly at me.

  “Oh, feel like listening to me now, huh? Feel like showing me a little respect now, is that it? This what it took, babe?”

  I can feel my legs start to give out, my blood frozen like ice in my veins as tears start to trickle from my eyes. “Harry—”

  “Remember my name, babe,” he says chillingly, and I fall to my knees as he takes a step towards me, the knife glinting wickedly in his hand. “Because I want it to be the last thing you—”

  When the hit comes, everything goes into slow motion.

  I’m aware of Hunter barreling into me and shoving me aside before he roars as he hurls himself at Harry. I’m aware of falling, and catching myself in the tangles of the curtain backstage, and staggering to my feet just as Hunter connects with Harry.

  And then the only thing I’m aware of is the blood, and the knife going flying as the two of them fall to the ground.

  I barely notice as Harry scrambles to his feet and starts to run as this utterly silent scream just freezes in my throat. The roar of my own voice chokes in the frozen tightness of my throat as I drop to my knees and grab Hunter into my arms, feeling the entire world shattering around me as my heart starts to—

  He’s laughing.

  I jerk my eyes up to his face, the tears blurring my vision as I see that strong, cocky, smug grin on his face that I’ve never once been gladder to see.

  “Are you—?!” I collapse into him as tears of pure shock and fear and everything start to pour down my face.

  “Maddie!” He laughs out, pulling me into him with a small wince. “Maddie, I’m fine, he just winged me.” He nods down to gash across his arm. “I’m fine.”

  I choke out a sobbing laugh as I throw my arms around him and squeeze him as hard as I can, like I’m afraid he might fly away if I ever let go. I kiss him, fervently, madly, passionately, his lips searing into mine as I just fall into him, heedless of the world around us.

  So heedless, in fact, that I don’t notice the large back wall of the stage that I’ve managed to knock off its base in my tumble. And I’m still lost in him, kissing him like we might blow away in the wind if we move apart, when that very stage wall finally starts to teeter and goes crashing forward into the stage.

  Every single pair of eyes belonging to the five thousand members of the press, the public, and my mother immediately land on us. Right there, center stage, wrapped in each other’s arms, with the whole world there to see it.

  There’s exactly half a second of stunned silence, before everything just explodes, and just like that, the secret’s out.

  Just like that, the entire fucking world is in on my terrible, horrible, dirty little secret.

  There’s a rush of screaming questions, camera flashes, and both the press and men in suits with guns drawn racing towa
rds us.

  But there, past it all, is my mother; her face drawn, her mouth open, and her head just slowly shaking side to side.

  And that’s when I faint, and the nightmare just fade away.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  “You know, I sort of thought the White House would be different.”

  I choke out a laugh and sniff into Jessica’s shoulder. “How so?”

  “Oh, less crying, for sure.”

  I laugh and squeeze my friend tighter as I try and stop the tears blurring my eyes.