by Lola Gabriel
As the siblings sat chatting pleasantly, Zoe wondered why it mattered that Rocco was leaving. Three weeks is plenty of time to get to know him, she thought. We can have our fun and he can be on his way, and I will go back to school.
Instantly, she was ashamed of her thoughts, lowering her eyes as if she was afraid that everyone in the vicinity could read her mind.
Anyway, she knew she would never be able to let Rocco Burnaby go once she’d had a taste. In her youth she had spent many hours fantasizing about the way Rocco would feel and taste as she writhed beneath him.
Most importantly, Rocco Burnaby would never entertain the thought of being with a former mouse like her, even if he wasn’t her brother’s best friend… would he?
“Why are you so quiet?” Branson asked her as she rested her head against the chair, watching as more family members filled into the yard. “Are you hating this as much as me?”
“Maybe,” she replied, grinning. “But probably not as much as Rocco.”
She gestured with her head toward where Aunt Belinda had cornered him, undoubtedly explaining her incontinence issues, judging by the expression on Rocco’s face.
Branson laughed. “I’ll go rescue him,” he said, but Zoe raised a hand to his arm.
“Allow me,” she replied, slipping away before Branson could question her motives.
She pretended not to notice her brother’s blue eyes boring into her as she sat herself at the table next to Rocco.
“Oh, Zoe, honey!” Aunt Belinda cried, her voice too loud. “I was just telling Rocky about the mass on my—”
“His name is Rocco, Auntie Belinda,” Zoe interjected, not wanting to learn about where her mother’s aunt had an excess growth. “And I doubt he wants to hear about it.”
“Huh?” Aunt Belinda called, cupping her good ear to hear Zoe’s words better. “Rocky needs a beer?”
“Yes,” Zoe yelled. “Rocky needs a beer. Come on, Rocky!”
She clasped his large hand, a small shiver of excitement coursing through her as she made contact and winked at him. He looked at her gratefully, rising from his spot, and they both waved pleasantly at Aunt Belinda as they raced back into the house, giggling.
“Don’t mind Auntie Belinda,” Zoe told him apologetically as they entered the empty kitchen. “She doesn’t mean to be…” Zoe trailed off, searching for the word.
“Such a fountain of information?” Rocco replied, grinning, and Zoe laughed.
“Exactly,” she said, opening the fridge and withdrawing two beers. “She’s old.”
The rest of her family was outside, but Zoe was grateful for the privacy indoors, and she intended to take advantage of it. She leaned against the fridge, her eyes following Rocco’s every movement.
“You didn’t want to go home?” she asked, and Rocco’s smile instantly dropped. Zoe immediately regretted the question. “Sorry,” she said quickly. “I shouldn’t have asked that.”
Rocco shook his head as if trying to roll the query off his shoulders. “No, it’s fine,” he replied gruffly. “I didn’t want to see my mother.”
Zoe pursed her lips together, her light eyes studying his face closely. “She doesn’t know you’re back in Scarlet Oak?” she asked, somewhat surprised. She had always known that the relationship between Rocco and his mother was strained, but she had no idea it was so bad that he would not mention he was home for the first time in three years.
“She wouldn’t know the difference,” Rocco snapped, but Zoe could tell he wasn’t angry with her.
He's probably not even angry with Yvonne, she thought to herself. The entire situation likely has him in turmoil.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated, placing a pale hand on his bicep. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
He stared down at her hand and then back at her face, like there was something he wanted to tell her, except that he didn’t know how.
Zoe wasn’t sure who made the first move, but suddenly they were in each other’s arms, their lips pressed together.
She gasped lightly as his tongue darted out, touching hers and filling her with excitement. Tighter he grasped her, and Zoe felt the growing hardness beneath his military-issued pants, the realization he was in uniform only adding to her arousal.
Abruptly, Rocco pulled back, his pupils dilated. “Oh, God,” he muttered, turning away from her.
The screen door slid open and Branson sauntered into the kitchen. Zoe gnawed on her lower lip, certain her guilt was evident on her face.
“There you are!” Branson boomed, but there was a note of suspicion in his voice. “I was wondering where you two had wandered off to.”
“We’re just getting a beer,” Zoe murmured, grabbing for her still unopened bottle.
“There’s a cooler outside,” Branson said pointedly, and Zoe nodded.
“I wasn’t sure they were cold enough yet,” she lied.
“Well, no point in hanging out in here when the party is outside,” he told them jovially, but Zoe knew her brother well enough to detect the skepticism in his eyes.
Without responding, Rocco and Zoe allowed themselves to be ushered back into the yard, but as Branson slid the door open again, Zoe could not resist reaching out to touch Rocco’s rear.
A small grin appeared on his face, and Zoe knew that they were about to embark on three weeks of absolute pleasure.
3
Rocco could not get the idea of Zoe Carrington out of his mind, and as the afternoon melted away into evening, he found he was unable to stop himself from watching the svelte blonde meander around the party, smiling and laughing.
How could she have blossomed in such a short time? he wondered.
Rocco had always maintained an affection for Branson’s sibling. He had watched her grow up, after all, and he had come to see her as a little sister.
Not that day, however. Nothing was platonic about the thoughts that raced through his mind.
Rocco turned his head and noticed Branson standing next to him, eyeing him disdainfully.
“That’s my sister,” he snarled, and Rocco glanced at him lazily.
“Yes,” he replied nonchalantly. “I’m aware of that. I’ve picked her up from school as many times as you have.”
“Then stop looking at her like she’s a steak and you’re a pit bull,” Branson ordered. “I didn’t invite you here to hit on Zoe.”
Rocco felt a spark of anger course through him. “Why the hell did you invite me here, then?” he growled. “So that you could mother me?”
Branson’s mouth became a fine, tense line. “I’m not mothering you,” he retorted. “I’m telling you to stop gawking at my sister.”
Rocco stared intently at his friend. “First of all, your sister is a grown woman,” he began, slightly relishing the increased annoyance in Branson’s face. “And secondly, I have no interest in her. She’s like my own sister.”
He almost choked on his own lie, but Branson was his best friend. He didn’t want to put a strain on their relationship. Zoe was off limits. Although it was difficult to hold back his primal instincts, he would leave her alone, out of respect for Branson.
He watched as Branson’s expression changed into one of slight relief, but Rocco could see he wasn’t convinced just yet.
“Sorry, man,” Branson mumbled. “It’s just that she’s always going to be twelve years old to me, coming home in tears because the boys didn’t like her. I can’t reconcile she’s the same girl.”
“Woman,” Rocco said automatically, and Bran’s brow knit instantly.
“Whatever. Just stop staring at her, Rocco. You’re making me uncomfortable.”
Rocco snorted and grabbed for his beer. He’d had more than he should have, but he wasn’t worried; he wasn’t going anywhere, after all.
His dark green eyes instinctively moved back toward Zoe. She seemed to sense him watching her and she looked up from where she sat, winking overtly at him.
“Did my sister just wink at you?”
; Rocco jerked his head back and laughed shortly. “Are you drunk?” he asked, more to shift the focus off the conversation.
Instantly Branson grew defensive. “No!” he snapped, and Rocco could see he had struck a nerve.
He knew Branson was sensitive about his drinking, and Rocco felt a smidgen of guilt by playing on his friend’s weakness, but desperate times called for desperate measures. However, he couldn’t act like that—Branson was like his brother.
“Dude, sorry,” he said. “I’ll leave her alone. Okay?”
“Thanks,” Branson said as he wandered off.
I can look, even if I can’t touch, thought Rocco as his single-minded focus continued to watch Zoe’s every move and admire every curve of her body.
Kissing her had been unplanned, but she had wanted it as much as he had. Logically, he knew that he couldn’t touch Branson’s sister again, but it wouldn’t be easy.
He downed the rest of his drink and sighed. I better slow down, he warned himself. Before I have no inhibitions left whatsoever.
4
The house was finally still at 3 a.m., the last of the party guests long gone and the family having retired to bed hours earlier.
Zoe had spent the wee hours of the morning creeping about upstairs, listening for signs of life. It had seemed like Bran would never go to sleep, but blissfully, as the witching hour struck, all was quiet.
She wasted almost no time slipping from her spacious bedroom and stealthily making her way to the guest room at the end of the hallway. As she pried open the door, Zoe was slightly disappointed to find that Rocco was asleep, his broad chest rising and falling in even rhythm.
Gently closing the door in her wake, she watched him for a long moment, debating on how to wake him. Making her way across the hardwood floor, she winced as the floorboards creaked slightly under her slender form, but in seconds, she had climbed atop the mattress.
Her heart hammered loudly in her chest. Zoe ignored it, peeling back the white sheet draped across Rocco’s muscular body. Shocked that he was sleeping in the nude, a smile spread across Zoe’s face as the moonlight peaking in from the window illuminated every defined muscle on his body.
He murmured something incoherent in his sleep, but didn’t stir beyond that.
Zoe placed a light kiss on his lips, working her way down his body, her silken hair teasing as she continued with the butterfly caresses across his body.
He was starting to wake, but before he could open his eyes, Zoe took him into her wanting mouth, sucking lightly on his member, which hardened between her lips. The size of him excited her as she imagined what he would feel like inside her quivering body.
Groaning, Rocco’s eyelids slid open, and he struggled to sit up, half asleep yet aware of what was happening. Zoe closed her mouth firmly around him, taking him in long strokes as one hand cupped his sack, the other one rubbing at his chest.
She could feel a gush of titillation between her own legs as she recognized his mounting pleasure. Her hand slipped off his tightening pouch to feel the wetness of her own center, and she knew she was ready for him. Pulling her mouth back, she wiped the saliva from her lower lip, her eyes boring into his as she straddled him.
Before she could position herself, Rocco grabbed her by the waist and tossed her onto the bed, ripping at the delicate lace of her nightgown.
Zoe squealed lightly, and he slammed a hand over her mouth as he plunged into her, grabbing her thigh to wrap it around his waist.
Zoe’s eyes bugged at the size of him, it felt even better than she imagined. Another cry struggled to escape her, but his hand remained in place, his free palm stroking her face.
“You really are all grown up,” Rocco muttered, grunting slightly as his thrusts grew harder.
Her other leg rose, her ankles hooking against his broad hips. The force of his penetration drove her into the mattress.
Her head arched backward as her orgasm exploded, shudders wracking her body over and over while Rocco pushed onward, his own climax seconds behind. When he filled her with his hot juice, he did not slow, each stroke draining her of her own fluids.
Spent, Zoe could not move, her pulse jumping.
This was a bad idea, she thought, her fingertips tracing over the smooth definition of the muscles in Rocco’s back, but she could not bring herself to believe it. As she lay beneath him, she didn’t want him to withdraw from between her legs. He felt so right there, as if he was made to fit precisely in the spot.
“Are you okay?” Rocco asked, his voice raspy. He also seemed reluctant to leave his warm spot, and Zoe knew that they were deeply connected beyond their carnal attraction to each other.
Rocco propped himself up on his arm and stared at her, lightly rubbing her cheek with his finger.
“You should go back to your room,” he whispered, but Zoe shook her head.
Besides, the look in his eyes told her that he didn’t want her to go anywhere.
“No,” she replied firmly. “I’m staying here with you.”
He smiled, his white teeth flashing against the darkness of the room. “You’re going to get us caught,” he warned her.
“So, let’s get caught,” Zoe replied recklessly, but she didn’t mean it. She knew if her brother caught wind of what they had done, she’d never hear the end of it.
“We can’t do this again,” Rocco told her, but again, Zoe could read the lie in his face.
“Yes, we can,” she said, her lips reaching for him. “In fact, we’re going to do it again right now.”
Over the next two weeks, it became harder and harder for Zoe and Rocco to hide their growing affection for one another, with Zoe becoming blatantly obvious about their nightly trysts.
Rocco was certain that everyone in the Carrington household was beginning to speculate about them, but he did his best to play dumb.
He couldn’t deny it anymore—he was falling in love with his best friend’s sister, but they could never work. Even if Branson was to give his reluctant blessing, who knew when Rocco would find himself back in Scarlet Oak?
Every night, Zoe snuck into Rocco’s room to spend passionate hours, licking and sucking him while he lost himself in her velvety softness. He had never known another woman like her, giving so much of herself to him and wanting nothing but his prowess in return.
“I am going back overseas next week,” he told her. “What are we going to do when I’m gone?”
She smiled beguilingly. “We’re going to have to up our game,” she replied, throwing open her robe to expose her fresh, lovely figure.
They rolled along the mattress, their rhythms in perfect sync as Zoe bucked underneath him, clawing at him wildly.
Rocco gnashed gently at her skin, feeling a tightening in his chest as he strove to claim her in every possible way.
Zoe shrieked, laughing as she was pulled atop him, giving her the straddling position she so often desired. Without preamble, she lowered herself onto him, placing Rocco’s hands on her breasts to guide her deep, slow rocking.
A split second before the door flew open, Rocco sat up, sniffing the air, but it was too late.
Branson stood in the doorway, his eyes bright with fury. “I knew it!” he screamed, stomping toward them.
Before Rocco could comprehend what was happening, Branson had become the beast, lunging for the pair.
In his rage, he swatted at his sister with a heavily clawed paw, sending her flying into the wall and making her collapse onto the ground.
The action spurred Rocco to abandon his human form, and suddenly, the two bears were entangled in a furious fight.
“Stop!” Zoe screamed, her voice coming out in a gasp. While it wasn’t the worst hit she had taken, it had still knocked the wind out of her, and she tried to stand up on her still shaking legs. “Stop it!”
Neither animal seemed to hear her as they grew into a mass of howling fur and sharp claws.
Rocco overtook his friend, pinning Branson to the bed with a massive paw and
baring his teeth to go for the jugular. In an instant, he was unexpectedly wrestled backward by another bear in the room.
“Stop it, you idiots!” Don Carrington roared, half in form, his blue eyes alight with anger.
Rocco attempted to lunge at Branson once more, but Don wrapped his arms around him and kept him in place, holding him back.
“You are brothers!” the older man demanded.
The words seemed to calm Rocco and Branson down enough that they no longer yearned to kill the other, but ire was still very much alive in the room.
Rocco felt himself transition back as Don held onto him, watching Branson do the same. He glanced toward Zoe, who had wrapped sheet around her naked form, standing on her feet but still trembling, and he rushed over to her.
“Are you all right?” he demanded, shooting Branson a dangerous look.
“She’s fine,” Don snapped. “She’s one of us. She’ll heal.”
Zoe nodded, lowering her eyes in embarrassment.
“You have been sleeping with Zoe under our noses!” Branson screamed. “When we opened our house to you!”
“I am a part of this household, too!” Zoe snarled. “And I’m a grown woman. I can decide who I want to sleep with. That doesn’t give you the right to storm in and attack!”
Branson seemed on the verge of morphing into his bear form once more, but Don bared his teeth in warning.
“Is this true, Zoe?” he asked his daughter. “You’ve been carrying on under our roof with Rocco?”
“Sir, it’s not like that,” Rocco interjected.
“Not like what?” Branson growled. “Not disgusting and disrespectful? I thought of you like a brother, Rocco, and this is how you repay that loyalty? Seducing my sister?”
Rocco didn’t know whether to laugh or be livid at Bran’s question.
“No one seduced me,” Zoe snapped. “Get it through your head that I’m not a child anymore, Branson. You cannot leave for three years and believe you can come back to dictate who I can fall in love with.”
