by Linda Barlow
“That’s crazy! I’m not doing that. I can’t do it. We are about to be stepsiblings, Shane! Don’t you get that?”
He ignored me and continued, “and the whole way there, however long it takes, you do everything I order you to do. Just like one of my BUD/s trainees. Your ass is mine for the whole trip.” He reached around and dug his fingers into my ass. And God help me, my pussy gave one long agonizingly pleasant clench.
“If you mean—“
“That’s exactly what I mean. As I told you last night, we ain’t stepsiblings yet.”
“That’s impossible. We can’t travel together. Our parents will know. They’ll think we’re doing…” my voice trailed off.
“…exactly what we will be doing,” he finished.
“Well, they can’t know what. They can’t ever know that!”
“Yeah, yeah, stop worrying. They’ll be too wrapped up in each other on their little sailing cruise to think about us. All we have to do is show up at the damn wedding. They aren’t going to know or care how we got there.”
He was probably right. Ever since Molly had come into his life, Dad had been preoccupied with her.
“One last joy ride, you and me, Sis. After that, they are married and we are quits.”
Oh God. I hated myself. I was going to say yes. If we road-tripped down to Cabo, we’d be alone. Complete privacy…no way we could get caught by his mom and my dad. We’d be safe. No one would know about it but us.
Maybe it was wrong, but I needed his body between my thighs. One final time. I could do that. Right?
He wasn’t my stepbrother yet.
“Couldn’t we take my car?”
“Nope. We take the bike. You can be my old lady for a few days. Yeah. I love that idea.”
“And you’ll respect the wedding? You’ll be polite? You’ll treat my father well and be nice to your Mom? You’ll be good?”
“All of the above, sure. ‘Cept the last. I won’t be good, doll. With them, but not with you. With you, I’m gonna be real fucking bad.”
I was gonna be bad, too. For once in my life, I was gonna be so bad.
Part Two
Chapter 20—Cassie
When Shane showed up in the semi-circular drive of Dad’s place on the morning we were starting our road trip, my heart groaned at the sight of him. Tall, tan, and built like some kind of classical god. Even the way he dismounted was hot. The bike itself was sexy. Oh, God, I was a goner already. How was I ever going to get through the next few days?
He sauntered on up to the house, the helmet hanging from his fingers. He was wearing the boots, the tight jacket and pants, the sun shades. Shit, my knees were going weak and he hadn’t even touched me yet.
His ass was amazing. I was going to sit pressed tight to that ass all day? How was I gonna stand it? I was tempted to invite him in to start this whole thing off with a bang, just to take the edge off.
But then he grinned slyly at me and said, “Good job, princess. I see you got yourself outfitted properly.” He tossed me his extra helmet. I caught it. Just. “You’d better follow the rest of my instructions, too, babe. That’s part of the deal, so don’t forget it.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my memory.”
“Good. Where’s your stuff?”
He had emailed me a long list of things to bring on the road trip. It was accompanied by a note to “pack efficiently. Don’t bring extra clothes. You won’t need them anyway.”
Screw that. I was going to a wedding. But after thinking it over and reading up on the web about motorcycle trips in Baja, I decided to give my dress, shoes, most of my cosmetics and jewelry to my Dad to pack in one of his suitcases. He and Molly were going on the boat, so they ought to have lots of room.
Even in January, it would be hot in Baja. But I was still supposed to have long riding pants, boots, a jacket and a sunhat. Shane would provide the helmet. When I asked why I couldn’t ride in shorts and a T shirt, he laughed at me. While we were on the road, he assured me, I’d be cool enough because of the wind factor.
So I went to a shop and bought the motorcycle traveling clothes, much to the amusement of several hardass dudes in there who were buying leather duds for themselves. I packed a couple of light changes of clothes, simple stuff. Shorts and T-shirts for when we weren’t riding. A sundress and sandals in case he ever took me anywhere nice. Some toilet paper. Antibiotics in case Montezuma’s Revenge hit. My Kindle. My phone. Condoms, in case he ran out. My birth control pills and some lightweight toiletries. Sunglasses. Bathing suit. Towel. Sunscreen. Passport.
He’d also ordered me to bring a sleeping bag and a small tent. He’d provide other camping gear. Camping? Jeez. Couldn’t we stay in hotels? It was a thousand-mile trip from San Diego to Cabo. To me it already sounded like a thousand miles of torture.
Still. I was excited. It sounded kick-ass to go biking in Baja. I’d been working super-hard at school this year and I was due for an adventure.
The other thing I was due for was the smoky hot sex that Shane was sure to provide. No one had ever fucked me the way he had, and for another chance at that, I was willing to put up with his annoying personality.
The good thing about riding tandem on a motorbike was that I wouldn’t be expected to make conversation with the jackass along the way. I was pretty sure talking would be impossible. The only time I’d have to speak to him would be when we were stopped, and when we were stopped, we’d probably be all over each other.
Our parents left the day before we did, which was fine with me.
I had lied to my father. He’d offered to buy me an airline ticket for the trip to Cabo, but I’d told him I’d decided to drive. I wanted to see Baja, I explained, and I had time off because of winter break, so it was the perfect opportunity.
Dad had been dubious about me going alone. When he warned me about bandits and drug cartels and all the horrible things that could happen to a single woman in Mexico, I’d weighed the odds and taken a risk. “No worries, Dad. I could ask Shane the SEAL to watch out for me. He’s probably leaving around the same time.”
At first I thought I’d made a huge mistake because Dad had said, “Please don’t tell me you’re thinking of traveling with him.”
“Nah, not officially. We’ll just be on the same road and maybe he could keep an eye on me, that’s all. I don’t even like the guy.”
“I don’t trust those SEALs, not with my daughter. I’ve seen them on the beach, harassing their trainees, and I’ve seen the way the women hang around them. I know Shane is Molly’s son, but he’s got a real bad attitude. I think you should stay away from him, Cassie.”
I’d laughed. “We can’t stand each other, Dad. But you gotta admit, a SEAL is a good guy to have around if there’s any risk of bandits or drug cartels.”
I could tell Dad was torn. Shane had behaved badly from the start and that kiss under the mistletoe hadn’t helped. “I don’t like it. And I don’t like him.”
“Well, don’t let Molly know you feel that way about her son. That could really hurt her feelings. She obviously adores him.”
He’d grunted and said nothing more.
When I handed Shane my kit, he proceeded to grill me on the whole list. I smirked when he’d run through everything and there was nothing I’d missed. So far he had no reason to criticize me.
The back of the bike was packed with stuff. There were two side carrying metal cases and another one at the back. As he took my sleeping bag and my backpack, I strolled around to the back and watched him rearrange things.
He stuffed my things into a carrying case in the rear of the bike. He already had a lot of gear in there, so he mashed it all together.
“What is all this stuff?” I had stressed over every item I’d brought, finding it hard to stick to his requirements. I’d left out things I’d really wanted and now my scrunched up clothes would be wrinkled to shit. “You told me to pack light so you could bring the entire contents of your apartment?”
“It�
��s gear. Necessary gear.”
“We’re not going into combat.”
“You never know. We’ll be in the desert. We need water. We need shelter. We need protection from the sun.”
“Well, if we’d taken my car, we could have put all that gear in the trunk and I could have brought my favorite dress, shoes, and jewelry.”
“Are you going to bitch all the way to Cabo?”
No, I wasn’t. In fact, I decided right then and there not to complain about anything. I was betting he intended to harass me the way he’d harassed those recruits on the beach. Just because he could.
Well. We would see who cried for mercy first.
I could be just as stubborn and determined as any SEAL.
Chapter 21—Shane
We were ready to roll. Cassie wrapped her arms around my waist, her chest pressed against my back. I’d never taken a road trip with a woman, but I was looking forward to the break, the time away from my job, the time alone with her.
In a way, this was the best of both worlds. Instead of my usual one-night stands, I would have one week of endless sex with Cassie, and nothing could come of it. Our parents were getting married, so we wouldn’t have to have the talk about our future. We could just say this long goodbye.
I’d mapped out every minute of this trip—1000 miles to Cabo, broken into five 200 mile legs. Tonight we would stay in San Quintín, then we would spend nights in Guerrero Negro, Loreto, and La Paz before continuing to Cabo San Lucas. I’d always wanted to ride the Baja Coast, but I’d never gone further than Ensenada, and that had just been a drinking trip with my buddies.
I needed this vacation, I needed her. Our Christmas Eve rendezvous had only whetted my appetite for her. I planned to fuck her every way I’d fantasized about over the last ten months. Whatever she wanted, I was game. Rough, dirty, sweet, sensual.
I exited the freeway at Camino de la Plaza, clearly labeled in yellow as LAST USA EXIT. I had to purchase Mexican Insurance and fill up the tank with the last clean tank of fuel we would be able to purchase for this trip. We pulled into gas station. Cassie removed her helmet, her hair wild in the wind.
“Shane, I’m going to stretch my legs.”
Shane . . . I loved the way she said my name. Slow, breathy. Before the end of this trip, she would scream my name, as she already had so many times in my dreams.
* * *
Cassie
While Shane was filling up on gas, I walked around, studied the landscape and felt ever more excited about our adventure. It wasn’t just being with Shane, which I was appreciating more than usual after clinging to his fine ass for the past half-hour. I was excited to be in Mexico. Since he lived in Southern California, it was probably no big deal for him, but I’d only been to Mexico once, for a brief visit over the border. I’d been reading blogs and studying maps of the Baja peninsula ever since he’d suggested the road trip.
I pulled out a road map, since I had nothing better to do while I waited. Shane was tinkering with the engine and he certainly wasn’t going to consult me about that.
When he finally looked up, I pointed to a spot on the coast and said, “If we can fit it in, I’d like to explore around here. I was reading this blog about two guys cycling in Baja and they had some really cool pictures of an old Mexican guy—I think he’s descended from Mayans or Aztecs—who has a little camp on the coast. He grows beans and vegetables, catches fish, and lives off the land. He prays to the ancient gods of the sun and the moon. He’s a shaman and a seer.”
I glanced up at Shane. I couldn’t even guess what he was thinking behind his heavy sunshades. “A shaman and a seer? Old gods? I thought you were some kind of scientist.”
“I am. But that doesn’t mean I can’t have a spiritual side.”
He snorted. “You want the guy to tell your fortune or something?”
“I just thought it would be cool to talk to someone who believes in ancient traditions that are lost to most of the residents of the land. He’s probably a wise man, even if he isn’t really a seer.”
“Yeah, well, it’s out of our way. The trip’s already a thousand miles, and I’m not going to make it even longer so you can go bow down to the Aztec gods.”
“Fine,” I said, snapping the map closed. What a jerk. I left him and walked over to a battered old soda machine that I hoped was working. The sun was hot and my throat was parched.
“Hey, baby,” a low voice said from the other side of the soda machine. “Need some help with that, little girl?”
I instinctively backed away from the voice even before I saw the guy. He stepped around, a huge man with greasy dark hair and massive tattooed biceps. He looked like a serious biker, and not the kind you wanted to run into if he was with his motorcycle club buddies. Or even if he was by himself. Thuggish, with a nasty gleam in his black eyes.
“No thanks,” I said, grabbing my soda and turning back in Shane’s direction. He was paying for the gas.
Another dude came up behind Biceps. He was younger—maybe late teens and didn’t look quite as vicious. Behind him I could see two huge shiny motorcycles, all snazzed up with lots of chrome and various emblems and skull and crossbones type stuff.
Biceps sidled after me. Yuck, he had wicked BO. “Who you ridin’ with, girly? The Cub and me could use a fine old lady like yourself.”
The emphasis he put on the word “use” gave me the shudders. I didn’t look back, but hightailed it over to Shane. He looked up, saw me and the two guys, and his expression turned ice cold. It was a subtle change, but I felt it. He didn’t move; he didn’t speak, but there was something in his body language that made the two bikers hesitate.
For the first time ever, I was aware of what it meant to be with a Navy SEAL. If I should ever need protection on this trip, I had it.
Chapter 22—Shane
I placed my arm around Cassie’s shoulder, clutched her to my side, and led her back to my ride.
Bikers. I didn’t recognize their club patch, but in SoCal we had plenty of motorcycle gangs, mostly offshoots of the Hells Angels, or the Mongols. Either way, I didn’t want to fuck with them—I never went looking for trouble, but I was more than capable of handling any chaos they sent my way.
But I didn’t like the way they looked at Cassie. She was my woman, and I’d be the only one to look at her like that.
We entered Mexico and the Federales didn’t stop us. I wanted to stick to the toll roads despite Cassie suggesting that we take the coastal road. I didn’t even have to argue with her because the coastal road was closed. My bike barreled along the highway, the view of the coast on our right side. I’d never taken a road trip with a fine ass woman on the back of my bike, her arms clutching around my waist, attached to me like human velcro, her heat contrasting with the ocean breeze. Her body just fit with mine, her sexy hips opened for me, her luscious thighs clinging clenched around me, her tits bouncing against my back. Every sensation was heightened, and Cassie’s body filled me with lust.
An hour later, I turned into Puerto Nuevo. I loved this place, this quaint fishing village, still unmarred by tourists. It reminded me in a way of my home in Billings, Montana. Great food, nice people. I could see myself getting a place down here, catching my own supper, drinking Coronas while watching the sunset.
I parked the bike and she took off her helmet. Her hair cascaded like a curtain down in her face. Sweaty, fiery, wind swept, she looked like I’d just fucked her all night. Which I was about to do. But not yet.
“Wow, Shane. I didn’t figure you for the romantic beach hotel but I like it. I’ve always wanted to come here, explore the marine life.”
“We’re not staying here—just getting lunch. I’m sure you’re used to five star resorts with pool boys spritzing your face with cucumber water and feeding you fresh pineapple skewers, but that’s not how I roll.”
“I read Ortega’s has the best hand-made tortillas. Let’s go, I’m hungry.”
I tried to fight a smile but my lips involuntarily
widened. She was always fun, bright, cheery. A big contrast to all the heavy stuff in my day-to-day life. I could get used to someone always trying to lighten up my day.
“I’m hungry too but we’re not going to Ortega’s.” I took her hand and led her down to the beach. I knew a few of the lobster divers from my last trip. I left her on the shore and went over to one of the boats and negotiated a deal, using my best Spanish.
As I walked back toward Cassie, I noticed that the hem of her tight pants was now tinged with sand. I could see the outline of her thong and couldn’t wait to rip it off with my teeth. I wondered if she was freshly waxed or she was still sporting the neatly trimmed triangle look. Either way, I couldn’t wait to taste her again.
“Let’s go, babe.”
“Go where?”
“Get lunch. We’re diving for lobsters. Get in the boat.”
Her eyes focused on the boat. “What? It’s illegal. Only Mexican citizens can take crustaceans from their waters.”
I raised my eyebrow at her. “Juan is a Mexican national so it’s fine. It’s not like you would want to violate any marine laws now, would you?”
She swallowed hard. That skill would be useful later tonight. Now it was time to hunt for lunch.
Chapter 23—Cassie
The white boat sped down the waters, and I focused on the blaring sun in the distance.
Juan had provided all the equipment. Despite his repeated assurance that the gear was properly maintained and the tanks had plenty of oxygen and no leaky valves, Shane was doing a detailed inspection.
I didn’t really want to do this. Why had I told him that first night that I was an experienced diver? Was I trying to impress him? I do talk too much when I get nervous. I wasn’t scared, but I had no desire to rip these beautiful crustaceans from their homes. Lobsters have feelings, they scream when they are boiled, they mate for life. It just seemed cruel.
