Man Up Stepbrother

by Danielle Sibarium

  "Not you exactly, but the smell of food did."

  "Good." He chuckles. "Glad to see your appetite hasn't been affected."

  I roll my eyes. "Jerk."

  He steps away from the stove to come look me over like he does every morning. His eyes crawl over me, leaving a trail of heat in their wake, from my head down my neck to my chest. Today his eyes stop there and hold a moment before climbing back up.

  "How's the head?" he asks, cupping my cheek.

  My head is fine, but my heart, it's beating a million times a minute.

  "Good. Like nothing's wrong." I swallow hard, pushing down the lump in my throat.

  He pulls back the bandage above my eye before removing it completely. "Cuts and bruises are looking good, too."

  "Thanks to you."

  He shakes his head, "I haven't done anything."

  "Since when are you modest?"

  "What are you saying about me?" he teases, narrowing his eyes.

  I don't answer before leaning my head against his chest and listening to the thumping of his heart. This is something I've grown accustomed to over the last week, seeking comfort from Jagger, sitting next to him, holding his hand. It's perfectly sweet and innocent and yet decadent at the same time, because every time we touch, my body ignites with desire.

  We've found an easy rhythm of talking and touching, but he hasn't made a move to take it further, and neither have I. I hesitate because I know it's wrong. Even though it shouldn't be. Still, I don't know how our families would react. All I know is each passing day the need building inside me is harder to fight. These pangs of longing are erupting faster and stronger with every touch.

  I'm sick of sticking to my comfort zone. I'm losing the struggle to resist the reckless impulses shooting through me when he's near. I want to take a chance and break out. I want to knock down every barrier between us and cross every line with him.

  "I'm saying I appreciate everything you've done for me. Changing my dressings. Cooking. Keeping me company."

  He inches closer so that I'm pressed flush up against his hard body as he looks down at me. "This okay?" he whispers as he threads his fingers through my hair.

  After a week of waking up next to him and sleeping in his arms, you'd think I'd be immune to the intense feelings that shoot through me when he's near. I'm not. Far from it. I feel each look, each touch through my whole body, and the only place I want to be is wrapped up in Jagger's arms.

  "Um hmm," I answer, holding my breath because if I don't breathe, I won't be able to kiss him, and right now, his scent paired with the feel of his thick, strong arms around me have my mind on a very dirty detour.

  "Are you sure?" he pulls back and gives me a pointed look. While his tone is stern, there's something playful in it. I love when he gets bossy and controlling. It's cute and sexy, and God, I wonder if that's how he is in bed.

  Yes." I say, struggling for words to break the weighty silence between us. "It feels..." I close my eyes and moan. "Nice."

  I look up and catch him staring at me with that look that brings my heart to a skittering halt and makes me forget how to speak. The look that tells me at this moment I am the only thing in his world that matters. I hope I'm reading him right and not grasping at straws.

  "Nice?"

  His warm breath grazes my ear and right now, nice is the last thing I'm feeling. Aroused. Excited. Wet. But nice is the only word I manage to say.

  "Really nice,” I whisper with my eyes closed, tilting my head back

  "I'm glad." He brushes his thumb along my cheek, causing my skin to tingle. "Now, come eat."

  The air seeps from my lungs, my shoulders slump forward, and I can't even imagine the disappointed look on my face. What a letdown! He's been teasing me like this all week.

  Jagger takes my hand and leads me to the kitchen table. I know he wants me, I feel it, but he's not acting on it, and I don't know how to get that to change.

  "You sure you're feeling better?" he asks after chewing a forkful of eggs.

  "Yes."

  "Then let's go out tonight."

  "Out?" My heart flutters, newly transformed butterflies burst from their cocoons and tumble around my stomach.

  "On a date." He says it slowly, scrutinizing my reaction.

  "Okay." I answer, afraid to look at him. Afraid if I do, one of us might reconsider.

  Chapter 11

  Jagger

  I hold the reenlistment papers in my hand. Is it wrong that I don't want to go back? Allie accused me of running away when things get tough. Is that what I'm doing? Running from the ghosts haunting me back in Afghanistan?

  If I reenlist, I'm going to get sent back eventually, because this bullshit isn't ending anytime soon. It's just getting worse by the day. I don't want to die there. I've barely had a chance to live, and I don't want my blood soaking the ground beneath the feet of my would-be murderers. The last time I was lucky to leave on my own accord, on my own two feet, with all my limbs intact the way I arrived. I don't want to know if my luck ran out.

  And I don't want to be pulled away from my family, from the people I love. Like Mia, that little spitfire. And my mother. I think she needs me here as much as I need her. And Allie. I close my eyes at this realization. I don't want to leave Allie not knowing if I'll ever come back.

  I fold the forms, put them back in the envelope, and toss it on my kitchen table. There's no time to think about this. I have a shit load of laundry and mail to catch up on. Not to mention a very hot date to prepare for.

  All week I've either been at work or with Allie. It's been hell having her so close and not touching her. It's been a necessary evil though. She wasn't sure she could trust me with her memory, and without it, I have no chance. I need her to know I'm not looking for a one and done deal. If I want the possibility of having something real with her, I need her trust, and jumping in the sack isn't laying the foundation for that.

  Tonight, that changes.

  I haven't been back here for more than a few minutes to grab some clothes after work. I've never noticed how empty this place is. How alone I feel here. Maybe it's time for a change. The last time I decided to make a change, I convinced my best friend Austin to go down to the recruiting office with me.

  I asked him to make sure I didn't do anything rash or stupid. Instead, he enlisted with me. Am I betraying Austin if I don't go back?

  I don't think of these things when I'm with Allie. Not the past. Not the future. I just live in the moment with her. Stroking her arm. Enjoying her smile. Resisting the urge to climb on top of her and bury myself balls deep inside her over and over again.

  I feel something in my pocket. My phone. Enough reminiscing. I need to get back to business.

  "Hey, Ox. Got anything?"

  I need to hear how his meeting with Bailey went. I laugh to myself knowing it was less of a meeting and more of an ambush. I wanted to question the fucker myself, but I know Ox has a better chance of getting information than I do. And if Bailey ever slinks his sorry ass back to Allie, he can't accuse me of anything. Well, he can accuse, but he can't prove it.

  *

  I pull up to the house at seven sharp. I thought a little separation before our "date" would give it a more authentic feel. After ringing the bell, I fidget with the bouquet I'm holding. It's a simple but colorful arrangement of flowers. I hope she likes it. I'm not sure if I should hold it so she sees it when the door opens or hide it behind my back.

  There's not enough time to decide before our eyes lock. She's gorgeous. Knockout, stop-your-heart-in-its-tracks, drop-dead gorgeous.

  "For you." I extend the flowers in her direction.

  Her eyes open wide, and her hands reach up and cover her mouth. She's surprised and her eyes are smiling. I can breathe a little easier.

  "Thank you. I love them.” She takes a step inside, leaving me at the door. "Aren't you coming?" she asks, looking back at me.

  "I haven't been invited in," I answer with a grin, looking up at her through my
lashes. "Besides, I think we should wait until later to see if you want to bring me home."

  She looks at me open-mouthed, as if she's seeing me for the first time, and nods.

  I wait at the front door while Allie, still holding the flowers, grabs her purse.

  "You don't mind if I take these with me, do you?"

  "Not at all," I say, bending my arm and offering it to her.

  The first few minutes of the drive are spent in silence. Even through the quiet, the electric tension between us continues to buzz and grow. Nervous excitement fills the cab of my truck, and I'm not sure if I should speak or let the anticipation continue to build.

  I glance at Allie through the corner of my eyes. She brings the flowers up to her nose, smells them, and smiles. Something in my chest grows. I'm the reason she's smiling, and I want to keep the smiles coming.

  "Do anything exciting today?"

  She tilts her head and pulls her bottom lip between her teeth as her blonde hair falls to the side. I don't dare steal another look at her, so I turn my focus back on the road as the lower half of my body comes alive.

  I listen to her, enthralled, as she tells me the details of her day. It's all very boring and ordinary. I find myself longing to make boring and ordinary with Allie a way of life.

  I pull up beside the lake and park the car. Most people are gone. The few stragglers left are packing up for the day. It's still bright outside, but soon the sun will set.

  "Care for a boat ride?" I ask, taking her hand and walking toward the boat rental shack.

  "They're closed," she points to the sign on the door.

  "Do you want to go?"

  "I don't see how, but yeah, that would be really nice."

  I knock quickly three times, wait a few seconds, and knock another two times with a long pause between each rap.

  Allie looks at me in awe when it opens.

  The kid manning the hut glances behind me to make sure no one else is around.

  "You have thirty minutes or it's ten dollars for every five minutes you're late," he instructs, handing over a set of oars.

  "Thanks, man," I answer before we head past the hut and over to the dock where the boats are tied.

  "How did you do that?"

  "Told you I had some things to take care of earlier."

  "You planned this? How? When?"

  Mission accomplished. She's wowed.

  I give her a wink as I step down on the boat and extend a hand to help her. The small vessel rocks as she climbs in, and it's the perfect excuse to wrap my arms around her.

  "Now, sit your pretty little ass down while I get us going."

  I turn my attention to unhooking us from the dock, then start rowing out toward the open space. The sun reflects off the water. We're the only ones on the lake. It looks like we're floating on glass. As beautiful as the scenery is, I can't keep my eyes off of Allie. When we're a good distance from the dock, I lift the oars so they're resting in the boat.

  "Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?"

  Her eyes drop, but between the sudden pink coloring her cheeks and the coy smile, she's doing a terrible job of hiding the evidence of her embarrassment.

  "Don't think I didn't catch you checking me out as I rowed us out here," I tease. "It's only fair that I should return the compliment."

  "Except I didn't compliment you."

  "But you did check me out. And you didn't have to say anything. Your eyes spoke volumes for you."

  She shakes her head admonishingly, "You're such a conceited dickhead."

  "Dickhead, huh? Is that the part of me you're thinking about right now?"

  I can't help but tease her. Her gray eyes light with a fiery determination when she's mad and she's staring daggers at me right now. Good. I want to tick her off. Not seriously, just enough to get the adrenaline flowing through her veins. Besides, from what we experienced at Lexi's house, nothing sparks hotter between us than the make-up kiss.

  "I'm not thinking of your dickhead, asshole, I'm thinking you are a dickhead!" she says, reaching into the water and splashing me for emphasis.

  "Oh yeah? That's how it is?" I ask, feigning insult. "You forget I have these," I say, dropping one of the oars into the lake and using it to launch an explosion of water at her.

  I laugh as Allie gasps, using her arms to shield her face even though that's not the area that took on the most water. Her face doesn't have a shirt clinging to it, highlighting every rising pebble and curve on it.

  "I can't believe you just did that!"

  "Believe it baby, and if you keep it up, I might just throw you in." I say, pushing a little more water in her direction.

  "You wouldn't dare!"

  "Wouldn't I?" I continue splashing her.

  "Jagger, stop!" she yells.

  "Make me."

  The boat sways as she moves to stand, and for a moment I think we might both end up in the drink.

  "You need to move nice and slow, or we'll capsize and you'll be completely soaked."

  "What's the big deal? Can't swim?" she taunts.

  "No big deal, sunshine. Just can't rule out snakes in the water from here, and I don't know how keen you are about swimming with them.”

  "Snakes?"

  "Yep, and they do swim fast. Got to think they'd see us spilling into the water as an act of aggression."

  Allie folds her arms over her chest.

  "I hate you. Do you know that?"

  Her words are so impassioned that if I didn't know better, I might actually believe her. "You're adorable when you pout."

  "I'm not pouting. I'm pissed. Can't you tell this is my angry face?"

  I can't hold back my laughter. My reaction only deepens her "angry face" look. "You're not serious with that, are you? I've seen scarier angry faces on the moon in the desert at night."

  She softens. "Did it change you? I mean who you are at your core?"

  "What?"

  "You mentioned the desert. I thought you were referring to Afghanistan."

  I drop the oars back in the water. "We should head back. Our time is just about up."

  "I'm sorry," she says through chattering teeth.

  "No need to be sorry. It's getting late and I promised we'd only be half an hour."

  I need to change the course of this discussion before we dig into the atrocities of the world. This is supposed to be a light, fun date, not a fucking therapy session. I've seen how much she likes to stare at my bare chest all week. I have the perfect way to distract her. I pull my shirt up over my head and toss it to her.

  "You're cold. This should help keep you warm."

  The shirt falls at her feet in the boat as Allie's eyes lock on my six pack. She sucks in a long, deep breath.

  "Mmm." She slams her hand over her mouth.

  "See something you like?" I ask, pulling the oars back toward me before leaning forward and reinserting them into the water for the next stroke. "That's okay, you don't have to answer." I see it in the blush spreading from her face down her neck. God, I wonder if her whole body is this shade of pink. "Go on, put it on." I say, looking down at the shirt. "It's nice and dry."

  "What if you get cold?"

  "Then it's up to you to find a way to warm me up." I give her a wink.

  Allie hesitates as she looks around. "Okay, but don't peek." Satisfied that no one will get a good look at her shirtless, she moves slowly so that her back faces me as she switches shirts.

  That did it.

  Staring at her back, trying to force her bra open with my mind has taken me over the edge. I'm harder than a fucking boulder. Tonight. That bra is coming off, and I'm going to get a full-frontal close-up view of her tits. Of all of her.

  It all changes tonight.

  Chapter 12

  Allie

  Holy mother of all that is good and pure, Jagger Evans stole my heart! He ripped it right out of my chest and holds it in the palm of his hand.

  "What are you thinking, beautiful?"

  I'm
at a loss for words. He totally blew me away. First the boat ride, then dinner on the bed of his truck besides the lake. Okay, maybe Italian heroes aren't the fanciest dinner, but he wanted to be sure I had my protein, and it was easy to transport and tasted good cold. He followed that up with brownies and wine coolers for dessert, all by the light of the moon, stars, and flameless candles.

  "Sorry dinner wasn't fancier," he says, leaning in and brushing the hair away from my eyes and waking the butterflies in my stomach. "I considered taking you out for a steak dinner, but I thought you might enjoy the privacy and ambiance of the lake more."

  "Are you kidding? This was...OMG, I can't believe you planned this all out. You thought of everything." I look around us. "These mats and blankets." I extend my hand, referring to the bed of his truck, which has been transformed from hard dirty metal to something cozy and comfortable. "I almost want to sleep out here."

  "Really? Sleep is what you're thinking about?"

  Shit. I said the wrong thing. All I want is to express how much I appreciate everything he's done. I need to show him what's on my mind. To show him what it is I really want.

  With my eyes locked on Jagger, I crawl to him, bridging the short distance between us. Just before we touch, I straighten up so we're literally head to head.

  "I'm not thinking about sleep," I say, running my hands over his still bare shoulders.

  "Be very careful, Aleena," he whispers, his voice deep. Dark. "I've used every ounce of self-control to keep my hands off you this week." There's a tightening in my belly at his declaration as those damn butterflies are going wild. "I don't know if I have any left."

  My body has an immediate reaction to his warning. To his voice. To his proximity. My heart races. My breathing hitches, and I'm all too aware of the dampness between my legs.

  I remove my hands from his shoulders and don't miss the look of disappointment on his face. I lick my lips and smile, knowing I'm about to wipe that look away. Watching him carefully, I reach for the hem of my shirt. The dry shirt he so gallantly gave me after acting like I was the sole participant in a wet t-shirt contest and soaking mine. I pull it over my head and toss it off to the side.

  "Fuck self-control," I challenge.