Risk: A Military Stepbrother Bad Boy Romance

by Lucas, Helen

  “Is that right?”

  No answer greeted me, and I was ready to wring an apology out of their sorry asses, but Sarah grabbed me hard by the arm.

  “Damien, please. Let’s go. We need to go. Before someone sees.”

  I sighed and turned away from the bullies. Mitch’s face was pale and he looked over his shoulder every few moments, half-panicked.

  “I think one of the teachers is coming over here…”

  “It’s too bad you boys got into a fight with each other,” I called back to the bullies as we took off jogging towards my car. “It’s too bad you’re going to have to tell that to whoever finds you—or else.”

  A groan told me that they understood what I meant, what I was threatening: if they told anyone that I had beaten them up, I’d come back for them. Harder. Meaner. Bloodier.

  We made it to my car and all tumbled in. In my rearview mirror, I could see a teacher or a chaperone or someone standing over the pile of bruised bodies, peering down at their pathetic faces.

  As much as I wanted to stay around and watch, I knew Mitch and Sarah would want to get the hell out of there. So, without further ado, we peeled out of the parking lot and into the night, screeching rubber the only thing the herald our disappearance.

  We sped into the night sky and Sarah put her hand on my leg.

  “Damien… Thank you… But you didn’t need to hurt them like that.”

  “It pisses me off,” I growled. “Assholes like that beating up someone defenseless.”

  I glanced back at Mitch in the back seat.

  “No offense, Mitch.”

  “None taken. I appreciate it. But… I don’t think it’s going to stop.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Ted’s dad is the chief of police. He can do just about whatever he wants in this town. It doesn’t matter. No one’s going to stop him.”

  “What do you mean? If he commits a crime…”

  “Then who’s going to investigate it?”

  “The police.”

  “Who work for his father,” Mitch said, by way of conclusion. I didn’t like that sort of thinking but I couldn’t argue with his line of reasoning. He knew more about this town than I did, after all.

  “Then I’m going to have to keep coming back after them, I guess.”

  “Damien, I don’t want you fighting like that.”

  “You’re not my mother,” I grunted. “Or my girlfriend.”

  That shut Sarah up pretty well. It was mean, I knew. But I was mad and I was amped up from fighting. I didn’t realize how much I had missed the adrenaline—how much I had missed the rush of going into battle, the rush of exerting my will, physically, over another man—the rush of seeing him break, of seeing the moment in his eyes when his will is broken, when he knows that he’s helpless, that he could die right now and no one would be able to prevent it… It was like a drug and I had gone cold turkey. And now, like an addict—I had gotten a taste again.

  Fortunately, it seemed like Laramie was the kind of town that could give me more than just a taste of the stuff I needed.

  I dropped Mitch at his parents’ home, an unassuming little bungalow on the other side of town, far away from the well-manicured historic downtown that I had first met Sarah in, the neighborhood where the Logan house was.

  “Good night, guys. Damien… Thanks again for sticking up for me like that.”

  “Don’t mention it, kiddo.”

  I watched Mitch trace his way up the dark path to the door. As soon as he was inside, we started off.

  “Are you mad at me?” I asked Sarah.

  “No.”

  “When a woman says she’s not mad at you, that means she is.”

  “You really had to rub it in, didn’t you? You’re not my boyfriend.”

  “I’m not.”

  “I know that, goddamnit,” she cried and I saw tears glistening in her eyes in the darkness. “But that doesn’t mean you have to fucking make a big deal about it. You don’t have to remind me.”

  “Do you want to be my girlfriend?” I asked. I wasn’t even heading home. I was driving around in circles, heading out of town a ways and then looking for a place to turn back. This was obviously a conversation we needed to have and not one I wanted to have at her father’s house.

  “I don’t fucking know what I want, Damien…” she said, her voice on the verge of breaking. “I already told you—I feel like I’ve fallen harder and faster for you than anyone I’ve ever known and it’s all the worse because I can’t have you.”

  “You shouldn’t be worried about getting a boyfriend right now, silly. You’re going to college. You need to focus on that. You shouldn’t be distracted.”

  “Who says a boyfriend would distract me? And besides, I wasn’t worried about getting a boyfriend. Not till you came along.”

  “So, it’s my fault? It’s my fault that I can’t be your boyfriend but I’m just so charismatic and sexy that you can’t control yourself?”

  I saw a smile starting to play on her lips. There we go. That’s what I was looking for.

  “Mea culpa, I guess,” I said with a laugh. I saw a sign out of the corner of my eye for an exit off the road leading up to a bluff overlooking the town. I took it and in silence, the car pierced the darkness, entering a forest preserve, the pale glimmers of neon orange signs guiding our ascent up the hill.

  “Where are you taking me?” she asked, peering through the darkness. I liked when she looked confused. I liked the way my little sister peered into the inky blackness of the night, of the forest, trying to make out what was going on.

  “I don’t know.”

  I waited a moment and then asked:

  “Are you scared?”

  “No. Not with you,” she said immediately as the car dove deeper and deeper into the night.

  Finally, we exited the forest and came out onto a small clearing. I pulled up to the edge of it and Sarah gasped—the clearing turned into a cliff abruptly, with the town, glittering below, laid out before us.

  “Careful, Damien! Don’t drive off!” she cried. I just laughed.

  “We’re fine, we’re fine… Relax, kiddo,” I informed her, parking the car. I turned to her.

  “Okay. Let’s talk.”

  “What do you want to talk about?”

  “Us, obviously. And what… This is,” I said, knowing that this was precisely what she wanted to talk about too.

  “Is there anything to talk about?” Sarah grumbled, avoiding my eyes. “You’ve proven that I’m just a fuck to you. Do you want me to be your local squeeze here in Laramie?”

  I reached over, putting my arm around her, running my fingers through her hair. It was down up with scrunchies and I pulled them out, letting her hair cascade down over her shoulders. She shook her head, pulling out the kinks.

  “Jerk. I liked my hair like that.”

  “Well, I like it better like this.”

  “You’re not my boyfriend.”

  “But I’m your brother.”

  “Exactly. So, you can never be my boyfriend.”

  “You know that’s right, Sarah.”

  “I know! I know that’s right. I just don’t like it, okay? I don’t like that I can’t have you. It pissed me off. I don’t like not getting what I want.”

  “Let me tell you, kiddo…” I said with a laugh. “Part of being an adult is not always getting what you want.”

  “Don’t you think I know that? Living with my dad…”

  I raised an eyebrow.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Oh… Nothing…”

  “Sarah…”

  “Just take me home, okay?” she said finally, sighing and shaking her head. I caught her face by her chin and turned her to look at me.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, firmly, authority ringing out in my voice. She bit her lip adorably and I melted ever so slightly inside.

  “Dad beats me… I mean, he beats Dakota too. And he beat Christina. That’s why she doesn�
��t come around anymore.”

  My face hardened. I felt a cold, icy wrath building in my stomach, so much different from the hot rage that had seized me back at the dance.

  “Does he do it often? How? Why?”

  “When he’s drinking… And when no one else is around…Except for Dakota or Maria…” she said quietly.

  “I didn’t see any bruises,” I murmured, my rage still building.

  “What?” Sarah asked, eyes wide, confused. Beautiful. Those beautiful eyes and how much they must hurt… How much pain they must have borne. And here she was, bearing her soul to me.

  I remembered back to the way the children in Iraq looked: their scared eyes, their trembling lips, wanting something, anything—help, assistance, assurance… Love? And here was my sister, asking for the same thing from me—even if she couldn’t say so out loud. It made me mad that someone was doing this to her, to someone as sweet as her, but it hurt me even more to see her helpless, to see her asking for me—even if she wouldn’t say it.

  “I got you mostly naked,” I pointed out. “And I didn’t see any bruises. No marks. No scars. Abuse tends to leave marks.”

  She shrugged.

  “He hasn’t hit me for a few weeks—I don’t mean that it’s like an every day thing.”

  She paused, thoughtfully, looking down at her hands in her lap as she wringed them, twisting her fingers up into knots.

  “Well, sometimes it is.”

  “Like when?”

  “Oh, god, Damien, I don’t know…” Sarah said with a sigh, tears dripping down her cheeks. “When he’s made. When he’s stressed. Then, any little thing will set him off. And… He’ll come after me with a piece of rubber tubing.”

  I wrinkled my brow.

  “What? Rubber tubing?”

  “That’s right. I know it sounds insane, but he buys it just for this purpose—just to hit us with, because it won’t leave marks.”

  So, it was pre-meditated—it wasn’t just a drunken crime, a man seized by emotions, seized by anger—that was something I could understand, even if I’d still kick his ass to the high heavens for it. No, this was something that even when sober, he was still thinking about, he was preparing for…

  “That’s terrible. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m just so ready to leave… I’m so ready to leave it all behind, Damien,” Sarah said with a sob, holding her face in her hands. “I’m sorry, this is more than you care about. Just take me home.”

  I pulled her close, pressing my lips to her forehead.

  “No, no, no… You’re my sister, and I care about you.”

  “I’m not really your sister. Even ignoring the fact that we’re not blood related, it’s not like you really know me.”

  “Well, maybe I should get to know you,” I countered.

  “How are you going to do that?” she asked through her tears, looking up at me. Our faces were so close and I could feel her heat, smell her tears mixed with her perfume, mixed with my cologne and the lingering smell of our lovemaking.

  I pressed my lips to hers and I felt her collapse against me, pressing her body into mine.

  “Damien, this is so wrong and I hate that I can’t have you for my own…” she whispered in between our kisses, her throat heavy with passion, voice husky with lust as her tongue dueled with mine.

  “But…” I interjected.

  “But I want you so fucking bad all the time now,” she whispered, continuing. “I want you. I want you. I want you.”

  “What are we going to do about that?”

  Now it was her turn. She was smiling through her tears.

  “I don’t have to be quiet out here,” she whispered to me. “You can make me scream as loud as you want.”

  She leaned in to kiss my neck, nibbling at my flesh, her lips hot and hungry.

  “And I’m so sore from how hard you fucked me before… So I’m going to scream a lot.”

  And then she bit my neck a little, sinking her teeth into my skin ever so slightly. I gasped, feeling my cock getting harder and harder as my pants tightened, and especially as Sarah’s soft little hand, so recently become a woman’s hand, found its way onto my crotch. She wrapped her fingers around my bulge, squeezing it softly, feeling up the tip, running her fingers along my hard, throbbing flesh.

  “Sarah, I think we should talk more about your father,” I said, suddenly, pulling away. “He can’t do this to you…”

  “Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow,” she cried, unbuttoning my shirt buttons. “I don’t want to think about anything right now. I want to forget about everything. I just want you. I want to pretend, tonight, Damien.”

  “Pretend?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. My cock was throbbing and begging for attention. As her fingers played over my pants, I knew I wouldn’t be able to control myself much longer. Before long, I’d be fucking her brains out if I didn’t shut things down…

  “That’s right. I want to pretend. I was to pretend my father doesn’t exist. I want to pretend we’re not related. I want to pretend you’re my boyfriend.”

  She began to unzip my pants.

  “Can you do that for me, Damien? Can you pretend to be more boyfriend for a night?”

  Now it was my turn to bite my lips. My pants were unzipped and she slid my cock out of my underwear. It sprang proudly into full few, standing tall, standing hard, the veins in my flesh throbbing and hungry. My cock tip was already glistening with pre-cum—the fact that I had already dropped a load inside of Sarah earlier that night didn’t dull my passion or my desire whatsoever.

  “I can try…” I murmured as she ran her fingers up and down my throbbing shaft.

  “God, you’re so big…” she whispered, stroking my flesh. She pressed her fingers to my skin, jacking me off slowly. “I can’t believe I had this inside of me. I’ve never had anything so big inside of me. I can’t believe you didn’t rip me apart. I’ll probably look down there and find that I’m bleeding…”

  She dug her hands into my underwear and found my balls, sliding them out, running her fingers over them.

  “You like that?” I grunted. “Your boyfriend’s cock.”

  She smiled, biting her lip as she ran her fingers over my flesh.

  “Yeah. Yeah, I do. I want to make my boyfriend feel good tonight.”

  “Then I think you should use your mouth,” I murmured, leaning back a little in the driver’s seat.

  “Oh, really?” Sarah murmured, raising her eyebrows in mock surprise as she leaned forward. She gave my cock a chaste little peck on the tip, my pre-cum sticking to her lips. She licked it off with a look of satisfaction, smacking her lips.

  “Like that?”

  “Don’t tease. You know what I want.”

  “But I want to tease you… I want to tease my boyfriend…” she whispered, lowering her lips again to my flesh.

  But instead of sucking my cock, she turned to my balls, running her tongue along my sack, tasting my hot skin, rolling my balls over in her mouth as she began to lap at my skin.

  “Like this?”

  “Fuck, Sarah, suck my cock…” I groaned, reaching a hand behind her head, running my fingers through her hair and moving her face back to my cock.

  She yelped in delight.

  “Yes… I like it when you’re rough with me… Does that make me a weirdo?” she asked with a smile. Before I could answer, she slid her tongue from the base of my cock, adjoining my balls, up slowly but agonizingly, working its way over the territory of my shaft, finally coming to my thick, throbbing cockhead. She swirled her tongue around my meaty head and then began to work down the other side, running her tongue along the prominent vein on my dick, tasting me with apparent satisfaction.

  “Not… Not at all…” I grunted, savoring the soft, wet slide of her tongue along my cock. Finally, she took the tip of my cock into her mouth and I rewarded her by pulling her hair, gripping it hard with my fist. She let out a delighted yelp as my cock twitched in between her lips.

  “Just l
ike that,” she gasped. “I’m a bad girl. I’m a bad girl and I want to be naughty for you.”

  I don’t normally go for this naughty little girl stuff but this had me hot and ready.

  “Then suck my cock,” I ordered. “And swallow my cum like a good girl. Or else.”