Step Summer

by Gallagher, Tanya

  “Why can’t you have me?” I whisper. “Of course you can. I’m right here.” My heart pounds so hard for him.

  Blake shakes his head. “I’m not good for you, okay? You’re young and you’ve got your whole life ahead of you, and I’ve already wasted years of mine. You don’t want me.”

  My shoulders stiffen. “Don’t.” I take a step back from him. “You don’t get to decide what I want. You can’t say what’s right or wrong. And anyway, you’re no more fucked up than the rest of us.”

  “And what’s going to happen when we go back to real life? To our parents?”

  “They’ll deal with it. I don’t care what this looks like to anyone.” But I think of how I didn’t tell anyone where I was last night, about how I hid the truth from Amber and even Brooke. Even if I’m not living the words fully, I want to believe them. I know we can figure this out.

  “This can’t go anywhere, McKenna. You cross that line and there is no coming back from this. Think about all the years we’re going to be tied together. We need to be smart about this.”

  “I’ll be okay.” I snort. “I did fine avoiding you up until now.”

  His eyes widen. “You were avoiding me? Why?”

  “Because I knew being with you was going to lead me here.” I drop my hands to my thighs. “But I guess it doesn’t matter. Here we are.”

  Frustration flashes over Blake’s features. “We’re not anywhere. We’re not starting something that’s going to end. And believe me, this is going to end, McKenna. You’re going to go back to your life, and I’m going to figure out mine.”

  I know what he’s saying is true, but I don’t want to hear it. I’ve spent my whole life following the rules, and it’s kept me safe but not happy. For the first time, I feel alive and thrumming, and it’s dangerous, but it’s real. “It’s too late, Blake. We’re already in it.”

  He sighs, and his gaze is so agonized and intense, I have to look away. “You don’t want to be my latest obsession, McKenna.”

  The words catch in my throat. “Why’s that?”

  “Because when I want something, I don’t stop until it’s mine.”

  What would it be like to be his? To have him love me without the guilt?

  It’s like everything I want is right there, waiting for me to reach for it. But even as I stand on my deck, vulnerable and aching, Blake steps back and out of my grip and walks away.

  20

  Blake

  July

  I’m up early, browsing on my computer in the living room with the sliding glass door cracked and the ceiling fan doing a lazy circle overhead when my phone buzzes. I bookmark the personal training certification website I’m on before I reach for my cell on the side table. My eyebrows lift as Jodi’s name flashes on its screen.

  Hey, Blake, since we’re not there today, take a few dollars and buy McKenna a cake from us.

  Cake? I type back.

  I shift my computer off my lap and bend over the phone, waiting for her response. My heart pounds in my chest and I’m not exactly sure why I’m anxious for the next words, but I somehow feel like they could change everything.

  It’s McKenna’s birthday.

  Oh, Jesus. A lump slides into my throat. For the past two days, I’ve been avoiding her, spending my time at the gym and then escaping to my computer at home. I’ve been narrowing down certification programs because now that the idea’s in my mind, it’s hard to shake.

  I could be a personal trainer. Why the hell not?

  I’ve spent my life working physical, demanding jobs, and though there’s no going back to lacrosse with my ruined shoulder and my reputation, sitting on my ass behind a desk each day isn’t going to work for me either. But there’s something appealing about having my own business, or maybe that’s McKenna’s influence on me.

  McKenna’s who’s off at work on her birthday.

  McKenna who I ignored on the one day she should feel the most cherished and loved. Even if I can’t give her everything she wants, I can give her a day to remember.

  I shove my phone in my pocket and climb to my feet. I’ve probably got about three hours before she gets home.

  There’s work to do.

  * * *

  I’m sitting on the couch with my eyes trained on the sliding glass door and the surprise I’ve left for McKenna on the deck when I hear the scattering of gravel and the gentle bump of her bike being leaned up against the wall of the house.

  I suck in a deep breath, my body tense and my heart pounding.

  She’s home.

  McKenna’s footsteps shake the stairs of the deck, and she jiggles the door handle before cursing under her breath. We usually leave the kitchen door unlocked, and that’s the door everyone uses since it’s closest to the top of the stairs. But I’ve locked it today to make her come in through the slider, and it seems like my gamble’s paid off.

  The thwack of McKenna’s flip-flops precedes her, and in a minute she enters my line of sight.

  I see the moment it happens—her eyes go wide and her mouth falls open as she stops and spins, taking in the color all around her. After one slow circle, hand pressed to her chest, she searches for me. Her eyes find mine through the glass door, and a smile spreads on her beautiful, kissable lips.

  God, there’s no better feeling than making her happy. It’s an addiction, making her smile, and my heart kicks up harder in my chest.

  She mouths something to me which I can’t hear through the glass, and then waves for me to come outside.

  I let a grin dance across my lips as I stand up and walk toward her, and by the time I pace through the doors, she’s bent down to the nearest bucket and has her face in the middle of a fat, pink rose.

  McKenna straightens as I get close, and her smile makes me feel like I’m the kind of man I know I can be. She’s a foot away in her silly Putt-Putt Hut shirt, surrounded by buckets and buckets of cut flowers, and she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Sunlight colors her cheeks, and a tiny trail of freckles scatters over her nose. Her eyes are wide and mesmerizing, and her lips…Don’t get me started on her lips.

  The way she sucked on my lips when we kissed, the way she tasted like perfection—it was everything. Which is more than I deserve.

  “You got me flowers,” she breathes.

  “I mean, they’re not in a bouquet yet or anything, but…”

  She drops her hand to my arm and sends a thousand volts of electricity through my skin. “No, Blake, this is perfect.”

  Her eyes are glassy, and she looks like she wants to wrap her arms around me, but she hesitates and wraps them around herself. It’s just as well because if she hugged me right now, I wouldn’t let her go.

  Everything I told her the other day is still true. No matter how much I want her, she’s my stepsister. I’ve put my dad and Jodi through so much the last few years, and I can’t imagine telling them that I’ve been messing around with McKenna while they were trusting both of us to get our lives together. I can’t do it to them. And I can’t let things go further with McKenna knowing it would come to a spectacular end. I don’t give things up easily, and she’s already in me so deep it’s going to hurt either way when I try to dig her out.

  I shuffle a foot over the deck. “I figured a florist needed some flowers for her birthday, and I know the cutting garden’s not quite ready yet.”

  She presses a hand to her lips and whispers, “Thank you. This means so much to me.”

  “I know.” I reach out and elbow her arm because, in this moment, I can’t not touch her. “What are you waiting for, Flower Girl? Go make some arrangements. Get flowery, or whatever.”

  She grins up at me. “Let me just change out of these clothes.” She pauses before walking through the door. “Will you stay out here with me?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “I guess I will.”

  She comes back five minutes later wearing a bikini top and short shorts. Damn. It’s like she’s trying to get a reaction out of me, and I’m reacti
ng, my cock going hard under my clothes, but I’m not going to let her know that.

  McKenna carries a card table in one hand and an old boom box complete with cobwebs in the other. I take them from her and help her set up a little work station on the deck. She sets the boom box on one corner of the table and lines up a row of vases on the other, dragging her buckets of flowers around her feet. Then she starts to work, listening to the sweet sounds of the latest pop radio, humming along.

  I sit on one of the lounge chairs and watch her work, happy to be here in her happiness. Drowsy bees buzz around us, and a small breeze sends salty air flowing over my skin. I stretch out my legs, and my chest feels like it’s full of light.

  McKenna’s tongue darts out of her mouth to trace her lips as she concentrates, and we don’t say anything, but from the look on her face, she’s perfectly content to be where she is.

  Me too.

  McKenna moves like a dancer as she works, trimming stems and stripping leaves, then placing each flower in the exact right spot in her arrangements. She reaches for flower combinations I wouldn’t expect, first adding flowering branches to the vase for an organic look, then layering in a base of leafy greens. She plucks a handful of roses and peonies and sets them at focal points throughout the arrangement before reaching for secondary flowers and finally adding in tinier filler flowers.

  Her forehead creases as she walks around the table to inspect the vase, and even though I know nothing about flowers, I can see she’s done good work. The whole arrangement is full of movement and flow, and she’s worked with each flower to highlight its curve and shape. What results isn’t well-manicured and glossy, but wild and imperfect and gorgeous. Just like McKenna, actually.

  She steps back, apparently satisfied, and wipes her hands on the butt of her shorts. Then she lifts the vase and starts to carry the flowers inside.

  She stops just above my shoulders and leans down so her breath tickles my ear. “Thank you again.”

  I stop breathing at how close she is, how good she smells, and when she leans forward to kiss me on the cheek, I freeze.

  My breath gusts out, and it kills me to say the next words. “I’m not your boyfriend, McKenna.”

  God, I want to be.

  She frowns next to my ear. “No, I guess not.” Then she slams into the house, taking the flowers with her.

  When McKenna returns a few minutes later, she’s carrying a towel and has stripped off her shorts and is down to just her bikini.

  My eyes skim her inviting curves, from her hips to her toned stomach to her gorgeous breasts.

  She sees me looking and holds my eyes like a dare. “Like what you see, Blake?”

  “McKenna,” I warn. “Please don’t.”

  It’s stripping every piece of my self-control to hold back, to not take her in my arms and haul her back inside, up to my bed.

  “I’m just going for a shower,” is all she says before slipping away and thumping down the stairs.

  My body pumps with adrenaline as I stand and follow her.

  How is she so fast?

  McKenna’s already in the outdoor shower by the time I make it around the side of the house.

  “Don’t be mad,” I call to her over the sound of running water.

  “I’m not mad.”

  She’s fucking furious. She’s offering me everything, and I keep holding back like a coward. I don’t blame her for being disappointed in me, but it doesn’t change our situation.

  With the short shower walls, I can see McKenna’s body from the calf down, and my throat goes dry as she slides her bikini bottom down and over her feet.

  Jesus Christ.

  The thought of her naked in there makes me want to take back all my protests and just give in. A swirl of water runs over the concrete floor and spills out around my feet, carrying the sweet smell of body wash.

  “McKenna, talk to me.”

  Silence, followed by a moan of pleasure.

  The sound pulls through me, and my body springs alert. My cock strains against the restrictive material of my shorts, and I shift the fabric, hoping for relief.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “It’s a handheld shower,” she calls. “I’m holding it where I need it. Doing what I need it to do.”

  What? No.

  Her words cut off with another breathy moan.

  She’s tempting me and pushing me, and I’m just about willing to give her what she wants. I walk to the door and pull the handle.

  Locked.

  I rest my forehead against the flimsy wood door, breathing heavy. “McKenna, please.”

  “Please what?”

  But I don’t know the answer, and the silence stretches too long.

  “Go away, Blake,” she calls. “I’m taking care of my needs since no one else is stepping up.”

  “That’s enough.” I thump my palm against the door, once, and crack myself open for her. “If I could choose anyone for you, it wouldn’t be me,” I admit, my voice scraping and raw. Is that what she wants to hear? It’s so fucking dangerous to tell the truth, but I can’t hold it back anymore. It’s like my heart’s out there, bleeding for her, and I need her to know it, too. “But I can’t help wanting you to pick me, anyway.”

  “God, Blake, you just don’t get it,” she calls, an ache in her words. “I choose you.”

  I—god.

  She chooses me, and there’s nothing left between us. Why the hell are we still fighting?

  I jiggle the handle once more, and suddenly the door bangs open.

  McKenna gasps, and I don’t know where to look first—at her gorgeous body, wet and naked, at her eyes, locked on mine, full of surprise and heat, or at the handheld showerhead she’s got aimed at her cunt.

  My throat goes dry, and I motion at the showerhead. “Stop, Kenn.”

  She leans her head back against the shower wall and closes her eyes. “But I’m so close.”

  She rolls her hips as she chases her orgasm, the muscles in her stomach flexing and her breasts rising in a way that makes me lose my mind. From the way her breath goes shallow and she starts panting, I know she’s cresting, and if I don’t act fast, I’m going to lose my chance.

  “That’s my job,” I growl, and it’s the only warning I give before I knock aside the showerhead and dive to my knees to take her in my mouth. My lips find McKenna’s skin, and I run my tongue over her slit and up to her clit, savoring her arousal and the unique taste that’s only hers.

  McKenna whimpers and drops her hands to my head, running her fingers through my hair and tugging me closer. The showerhead, tethered on its hose, sprays hot water over the two of us, turning everything slick and wet.

  “Blake,” she says, and her moan is the sound of my sanity unraveling.

  I pull her clit into my mouth, nibbling and sucking while my hands caress her hips. She writhes at my touch, grinding on my mouth so I fill with the salty-sweet taste of her.

  If I could be anywhere in the world right now, I would still choose to be right here.

  This is bliss, this is insanity, and maybe there’s a reason people say falling in love is like losing your mind. Right now she’s triggering my addiction, but it’s not drugs or alcohol or fame I want. It’s McKenna under my hands, in my mouth, trembling at my touch. I need her orgasm like I’ve needed every pill, every drink. I need her release to set us both free.

  I slide my hand away from her hips to part her wider, then pulse a finger inside her.

  Her rewarding moan shoots through me, and I’m so fucking hard right now I’m surprised my shorts haven’t ripped off my body.

  “You taste so good,” I growl against her, and her breath hitches.

  “Blake.” She moans again, and I race with her, bring her to the crest so I can push her over. Her legs start to stiffen, and I keep up the rhythm, fucking her with my hands, my tongue, until with a cry, she shatters around me.

  “Oh, god,” she cries, and I want to be there with her. I’d do anything to
keeping riding this high.

  I nuzzle my way back up her body, planting a kiss between her breasts and then another one on her mouth. She kisses me till we’re both breathless again, then rests her forehead against mine. “How’d you know what I wanted for my birthday?”

  I huff out a laugh and reach behind her to turn off the water. Then I throw her over my shoulder, still naked and dripping wet, and walk the two steps from the shower to the back door of the house.

  I slap her ass once, gently, and my dick fills with even more blood as she gasps and moans at my touch.

  “Where are we going?” she asks.

  “Inside. I’m not done giving presents just yet.”

  21

  McKenna

  July

  Hanging upside down over Blake’s shoulder isn’t the worst place in the world to be. From here I get a bird’s eye view of his perfect, sculpted ass, his clothes plastered to him by the water from the shower. My hair swings in my face as he mounts the stairs, taking us up past the kitchen and living room and all the way to the third-floor bedrooms. Every step sends delicious anticipation through my veins, and even though he’s already made me come once, on his tongue, on his hands, I’m wet for him again. I’m in trouble in the best kind of way.

  Despite the dizzying height of the staircase from this angle, I’m not scared he’s going to drop me. I know he won’t let anything happen to me.

  Blake pauses on the landing between our two bedrooms. “You want me, don’t you, birthday girl?”

  “Yes,” I moan.

  “Then whose bed?”

  Fuck. I didn’t think I’d ever hear those words from him, and I want them and I’m scared of them because this thing between us is already so big that I don’t know how much more my heart can hold.

  “Yours,” I whimper. “It’s bigger.”

  He rubs a hand over my ass again. “Good girl.”

  He kicks open the door to his bedroom, a room which I haven’t dared step foot inside for the last few weeks. A square pane of sunlight pools on the bed, and that’s where he drops me, naked and dripping, before following me down.