Boxed Set

by Brenda K. Davies

  "You two are unbelievable," Kathleen said to her. "It's like you're still in college."

  "Yep," her mom said.

  "Isabelle, come on!" Ethan yelled.

  Isabelle closed her eyes. She didn't want to go anywhere near that game or Stefan.

  "Come on, Isabelle," Aiden said.

  She opened her eyes to look up at him. He grinned at her and held his hand out. "I don't want to play," she said.

  He blinked at her in surprise. "You have to play; it's my last game."

  Isabelle frowned at him as she shook her head. "You'll be back."

  "But it won't be the same. Come on, Isabelle, you love playing, and I want you to."

  She couldn't refuse the pleading look in his eyes and the fake pout on his face. She sighed and slipped her hand into his. He hauled her up. She followed him out to where everyone was gathered in the middle of the backyard. Mike and David were always team captains, and the assigned teams they usually played with already stood in their positions.

  Jack, Ethan, and Julian stood by Mike, and she walked over to join them. David, her father, Ian, Aiden, and Doug stood opposite them, smiling as David picked Stefan for his side. Mike immediately chose Kyle, who was being allowed to play for the first time. They divided the remaining four humans between them.

  She felt wooden as she walked to her side of the field. Their football games could get rough and rowdy. Her brothers had no problem slamming her into the ground, and neither did The Stooges. That's why she loved to play, but now...

  Isabelle nervously bit her bottom lip as she glanced at Stefan. Would he tackle her? Would he touch her? She found herself shuddering with dread, and anticipation, at the thought. She listened half-heartedly while Mike outlined their first play. Mike hoped Aiden's friends wouldn't want to tackle her, so the ball was coming to her.

  They lined up, and her eyes instantly went to Stefan. He was standing next to her father and across from Ethan. She sighed in relief as she realized he wouldn't be anywhere near her. She turned her attention back to Aiden, who was grinning as he walked over to stand before her. Isabelle forced herself to smile back.

  "My friends refuse to tackle you," he said happily.

  "Your friends wouldn't be able to catch me," she retorted.

  "Hey!" one of them protested.

  Isabelle glanced at his friend before turning her attention back to Aiden. His eyes darkened with worry as he stared at her. All their special abilities were called off for their games because The Stooges, and her father, were stronger than her brothers and her. Even without them though, Isabelle was the fastest. She didn't have the physical strength of the others, but if she broke away, none of them could catch her. Her team loved her for it, while David's team hated it. They usually flipped a coin to decide who would have to cover her. Aiden lost.

  Mike called hike, and they all broke. Isabelle darted to the right, laughing as Aiden scrambled to keep up with her. She caught the ball, tucked it against her chest, and dashed down the field. She crossed the spray-painted line on the ground and turned to hold the ball laughingly out as Aiden panted to a halt beside her.

  He shot her a disgruntled look as he took the ball from her hands. "Slowpoke," she teased.

  "Hmm," he grunted.

  The game went by quickly in a blur of laughter and lighthearted banter. After a half hour of play, Isabelle began to relax. She was nowhere near Stefan, and he seemed content to stay away from her. In truth, it somewhat aggravated her, but it was what she wanted after all, wasn't it?

  She shook the thought and confusion away as they called halftime. She gratefully trotted over to the cold water on the sidelines, drinking it eagerly to ease the dryness in her throat. She stood between Ethan and Ian, feeling secure between their tall, solid bodies. She poked her head around them, her eyes instantly landing on Stefan as he talked with David. Seeming to sense her gaze, he turned toward her.

  His eyes sparkled mischievously as a smile curved his full mouth. Her cheeks burned when she realized she’d been caught staring. She was never shy, and rarely got embarrassed, but one look from him caused heat to suffuse her body and her throat to close up. She felt like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

  She turned her gaze to less threatening things. Her mother and Kathleen still sat on the sidelines; her father was now by her mother's side. Isabelle rolled her eyes as she looked away from them. She wasn't going to be like them; she wasn't going to let that happen to her. She refused to.

  She turned her gaze toward Jess and Delia. She was startled by the hostility radiating from them as they met her gaze. An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. She’d never been hated by anyone before, but she was certain they both hated her.

  "I'll be right back," she said around the lump in her throat.

  Ethan glanced at her. "Where are you going?"

  "Inside for a minute."

  "Hurry up, the game's going to restart soon," he replied impatiently.

  Isabelle jogged away from them and up the steps of the porch. She just needed some time to get her thoughts together and to shake off the remaining dread from Jess and Delia's look. They hated her. The thought brought a knot to her stomach and the hot sting of tears to her eyes. She batted them angrily back as she slipped into the comfort of the kitchen.

  This was his fault too, she decided. Jess wasn't stupid; she surely noticed something odd happening between them.

  Isabelle locked herself in the bathroom and leaned against the door as she tried to steady her nerves. She walked over, turned on the cold water, and liberally doused her face with it.

  What did she care what Jess thought of her when Isabelle didn't even like her? Stefan was her boyfriend, and if she chose to be mad at Isabelle because he was a horny bastard that was her fault, not Isabelle's.

  She turned the water off, determined not to let Jess bother her anymore. Stefan was an entirely different matter. No matter what she did, he bothered her. She avoided him physically; he invaded her dreams. She tried not to think about him, but he was constantly on her mind.

  One look at him caused her to tremble with heat. She didn't know what to do about him, but she knew she couldn't stay hidden in the bathroom forever. Ethan and Aiden would come in and drag her out by her hair if she didn't get back to the game soon.

  She cast a quick glance at her reflection and froze. She looked like crap. Her face was flushed from the game, her hair in tumultuous disarray, and there were smudges under her eyes from not sleeping. She didn't want to think about the reason why she wanted to look better, she knew why; she just didn't want to admit it. Hurriedly, she pulled her hair into a neater ponytail. It didn't do much for the overall effect, but at least it was a little improvement.

  Feeling a little better, and more in control, she straightened her shoulders and flung the door open. Stefan was standing before her with a raised eyebrow and a gleam in his eyes as he surveyed her. Isabelle's heart leapt into her throat as all her newfound composure vanished and fire flashed through her body.

  His eyes came back to hers, and they darkened with a ravenous hunger. Her breath froze in her lungs, and the world around her vanished as his gaze burned into her soul. With heart-stopping certainty, she knew he was ready to devour her, and she found herself welcoming it.

  "I was sent to get you." His voice was deep and husky with desire.

  Isabelle forced herself not to shiver. "Okay," she managed to say. She took a step forward, but he put an arm out, blocking her exit. She looked back at him, determined not to let her distress, or longing for him, show. "I thought you were sent to get me?"

  A predatory smile curved his full mouth as he took a step toward her. She took a step back, but he planted his other arm behind her, blocking her escape. She turned to face him, her back pressed against the doorway as he leaned closer.

  "I was," he said hoarsely.

  Isabelle swallowed nervously. Her whole body ached and trembled. She wanted to touch him, to feel him. She nee
ded to with a desperate longing shaking her from head to toe.

  "You've been avoiding me,” he stated.

  She wanted to lie, to deny it, but it would be pointless. She had been avoiding him; he knew it as well as she did. "I've been helping my mom.”

  "Ah, I see."

  His finger brushed against her cheek, causing her to jump as a bolt of electricity, and need, sizzled through her. Isabelle couldn't stop herself from turning her head into his gentle touch. He took a step closer as his hand wrapped around the back of her head.

  "You said you were going to stop fighting me, Isabelle."

  When she nervously licked her lips, she instantly regretted the action as his eyes latched onto her mouth. The look of a starving man, who finally found food, came over his face. A small breath of anticipation escaped as she realized his objective. His head bowed to brush a kiss against her quivering lips.

  He nibbled and teased as her body trembled in response. His hand tightened in her hair as the kiss deepened. His tongue thrust in to take possession of her mouth. She grasped his shirt, clinging to him as her knees grew weak, and the taste of him flooded all her senses.

  Stefan reluctantly broke the kiss. He shouldn't have come here, but he’d been aggravated with her for avoiding him and needed to confront her about it. The minute he saw her, he had to touch her. To remind her of the passion that easily bloomed between them so she would stop ignoring him and driving him crazy. He made the mistake of thinking he could control his urges.

  He'd been wrong.

  "You are going to stop avoiding me!" he ordered in a much harsher tone than he intended.

  The passion faded from her clouded eyes as anger quickly took its place. Her jaw clenched and her hands fisted in his shirt as she tilted her chin to glare at him.

  "Why don't you just leave me alone and go molest your girlfriend, you arrogant, unfaithful, horny bastard!" she spat.

  Stefan would have laughed if he wasn’t so hard. He almost told her Jess wasn't his girlfriend anymore, that he had ended it with her and was sleeping on the couch, but he bit his tongue. He didn't want Isabelle to know she had any power over him, but something inside of him had changed, and it had everything to do with the woman facing him. He couldn't seem to get her out of his head. Even when he slept, she haunted his dreams.

  He had never been so sexually frustrated in his life, and yet he couldn't seem to do anything to ease it. She wouldn't get out of his head, and the idea of Jess revolted him so much he was forced to end it with her.

  Jess hadn't taken it well at all, and she insisted on staying in the home in the hope they could work things out. He hadn't spoken a word to her since then, and the tension in the house was almost palpable.

  However, there was no way the little hellion before him could know that because she went out of her way to avoid him and the house. If she insisted on being a stubborn, infuriating witch then he wasn't going to tell her about Jess. He didn't owe her any explanations. She was the one who should be offering explanations, not the other way around. The sooner she learned who was in charge, the happier they would both be. He was going to teach her that.

  "And soon you will be calling me your lover."

  He thought she was going to explode with ire. Her eyes turned red as her whole face suffused with color. He didn't wait to hear what she would start yelling at him. He jerked her head forward and took possession of her mouth. She shoved angrily at his chest; her mouth clamped shut as she squirmed to get free.

  He kept a firm hold on her as he licked and nibbled at her full bottom lip. She would yield to him, and when she did, she would realize it was useless to keep fighting what their bodies desperately wanted.

  Isabelle was so irate she almost wanted to kill the egotistical, overbearing idiot. Almost, but not quite. She desperately fought to stay angry, but his kiss melted her resolve. She couldn't yield to him; she wouldn't give him the satisfaction. But even as she thought it, her traitorous body responded to him.

  Her hands involuntarily dug into his shirt as she stopped shoving at his chest. Her breath escaped in a gasp which allowed him to invade her mouth. His tongue slid over hers in a deliberate, passionate dance that left her weak and trembling, and desperately needing more. What started as a ferocious kiss on his part, turned into something sweet.

  Stefan wrapped his arm around her waist; all satisfaction at making her bend vanished as he lost himself to her sweetness, and uninhibited response. He had started out to make her concede defeat, but he was beginning to realize she made him lose control. And right now, he didn't care.

  "Isabelle! Issy! Where are you?"

  Isabelle groaned as Vicky and Abby's voices penetrated her pleasant haze. Stefan pulled away; his eyes were troubled as he stroked her cheek. She stared at him in dazed amazement. It wasn't just a craving for him, she realized with a start, but she was beginning to like the man.

  The realization caused a flurry of emotions to rip through her, all of them jumbled and confused. She wanted to sit down and cry, but she couldn't do it. She refused to cry. He was already proving she was weaker than she’d ever known herself to be, she would not be weaker by crying.

  "Issy!" Abby shouted angrily.

  "You better go," she whispered, licking her swollen lips. His eyes instantly latched onto her mouth, and the yearning in his gaze was enough to make her tremble all over again. "Go.”

  He nodded, but his reluctance was evident on his face and in his eyes. "Until later," he whispered, dropping a kiss on her mouth.

  Isabelle stared dazedly after him as he slipped out the door and made a left toward the downstairs entry. She slumped against the door, trembling. Vicky and Abby popped up, identical looks of consternation on their pretty faces.

  "Here you are! Why didn't you answer us?" Vicky demanded.

  Isabelle stared at them as she tried to gather her scattered thoughts, and warring emotions. "I was washing my face," she answered dully.

  "Did Stefan find you?"

  "No, I haven't seen him," she lied.

  "That's just as well," Abby said.

  Isabelle focused her full attention on her sisters. "Why is that?" she demanded.

  Their eyes widened at the hostility in her voice, but they chose to ignore it. "Issy, we need to talk to you," Vicky said urgently.

  Isabelle recognized her melodramatic look instantly and couldn't help but wonder what new "tragedy" occurred. "Can't it wait until later? I'm sure the game is about to start again."

  "It is, but they can wait two more minutes, we have to talk to you!" Abby gushed.

  Isabelle shoved herself away from the wall and headed out of the bathroom. "Talk while we walk," she said over her shoulder.

  They scurried to catch up with her on the back porch. "Jess thinks you're trying to steal Stefan!" Abby blurted.

  Isabelle grit her teeth, forcing herself not to let her step falter as she descended the steps. She wasn't after Stefan, it was the other way around, but if she were honest with herself, she didn't put up much of a fight when he was near. In fact, she turned into a quivering mass of Jell-O he could bend and mold however he liked. She was more than a little disgusted with herself for not putting up a stronger fight, but he was so irresistible. And the way he made her feel...

  Isabelle shut the thought off before her knees gave out. "That's ridiculous," she told them as she reached the ground.

  The look they exchanged infuriated her. "Is it?" Vicky asked.

  "Yes!" Isabelle nearly shouted in exasperation.

  "Isabelle, come on!" Ethan yelled across the yard.

  She glanced over to find everyone gathered together, including Stefan. Her gaze went involuntarily to Jess, who was glowering at her with a look of absolute hatred. To her amazement, she looked back at Stefan, instinctively searching him out for some help. The realization of what she’d done rocked her so forcefully she stopped moving. He was looking at Jess, his face cold and remorseless, his eyes hostile. Isabelle's breath froze as his gaze swun
g toward her, his features relaxed as he cast a small smile at her.

  "Is it really?" Abby asked triumphantly.

  The identical, knowing grins on their faces were enough to make her want to scream. She clenched her jaw, fisted her hands, and stormed over to join the group in the middle of the field. "It's about time!" Ethan barked.

  She shot him a withering look as she stepped into the huddle, barely listening to Mike's plan. "You get it again, Isabelle."

  "Fine," she mumbled angrily.

  She had scored two of the five touchdowns, but she wasn't in the mood to play anymore. However, the game was tied, and her team needed this win. They kept track of all the games they played, and right now they were one down from David's team. She would be letting everyone down if she didn't keep playing, and they would probably kill her.

  "Let's go."

  Isabelle moved back to the line. She froze as her eyes landed on Stefan. He stood casually across from her, his black eyes twinkling mischievously. For a second she was unable to move, unable to breathe. Then she drew in a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. She would appear as completely unaffected by their brief encounter as he seemed to be.

  "Lose the coin toss?" she asked haughtily.

  He grinned at her. "Volunteered, someone has to catch you."

  "And you think you can?" she retorted.

  His eyes darkened as they leisurely traveled over her. Her body quickened in response, but she refused to let it show. "I know I can, and I will."

  Excitement coursed through her at the promise in his words. The hell he would! She decided fiercely. She was taking it easy on Aiden because she saw no need to stress herself. Now, she would. Mike yelled hike, and she dashed easily through the crowd of bodies. She knew where the ball was going and headed straight for it. She snagged it out of the air and ran as if the devil himself was on her heels, which he was.

  She could hear him behind her. He was close, so very close. Determination and adrenaline burst through her as she tucked her head down and pushed herself to run faster. Relief rushed through her as she triumphantly crossed the goal line. She turned, grinning as she tossed him the ball.