Hard Tackle (A Stepbrother Warriors Novel) (11 page)

Chapter Twenty-One

"What's upstairs?" I ask, pointing to a staircase
in the corner of the boat house.

"Lex's bedroom," Jack explains, and I realize for
the first time that I've never seen hers in the main house. "She went to
boarding school for high school, but she moved out here during the summers. She
said living in a house with my dad was suffocating her."

"In a house that big? They each could have had their
own wing!" I exclaim as I run my hand over the fishing pole options.

"I think she meant it more as a gesture of
defiance," he explains. "So what are you going to catch?"

"Well, what I'd
like
to catch is Spanish
mackerel, but you never know. There are plenty of species out there. You've
never fished off the yacht?"

"My dad hardly has time to use it. And when I use it,
it's more to—"

"Escape to international waters?" I joke,
selecting my pole.

"Exactly." He leads me out to the yacht, helping
me up the gangplank before drawing it up after us and casting off. I stand next
to him as he slowly guides the boat away from shore before opening up the
throttle. A giggle escapes my throat as the prow of the yacht noses up into the
wind and we go skimming over the short waves. It's a beautiful day with just
the right amount of wind to cut through the late summer humidity.

Jack heads for open water, but suddenly ducks down.
"Take the wheel," he instructs me.

"What's going on?" I ask worriedly as I spot a
group of college-aged women on Jet skis, their lifejackets standing out against
the cool water as they shriek with laughter.

"Nothing, I just don't want to be recognized. That's
one of my main demographics." I giggle and shake my head at the sight of
him crouched down, and offer a friendly wave to the Jet skiers as we go flying
past them. After a safe distance, he stands back up and moves behind me,
placing his hands over mine on the wheel. I relax back against him, raising my
nose to inhale his scent as it mingles with the salt air.

"You ever get tired of it?" I ask, tilting my head
back and getting a good view of the underside of his chin.

"What?"

"Being a sex symbol."

He grins. "Not yet, though sometimes I wish I had some
more privacy."

"So you're going to end up an old bachelor, huh?"
I ask lightly, though I feel myself holding my breath as I wait for the answer.

"Yeah," he says with a laugh, and my stomach
drops. "Me and Jack Nicholson." Wait, is he joking? But I don't have
time to check. He pulls back on the throttle. "Is here OK? I don't really
know the good fishing spots, but there's a small reef right over there,"
he says, nodding to a bit of water that looks slightly lighter blue.

"I guess it's as good a place as any other, then,"
I say, picking up the pole. "Wait…did you get any bait fish?"

"Did I? I don't even know what that is."

"Oh, I'm such an idiot," I moan, slapping my
forehead with my free hand. "My brother always took care of the bait so I
didn't even think of it."

"So much for dinner then," he says with a laugh. He
restarts the engine and guides the boat closer to the reef. "There's
snorkel gear under that seat," he says, nodding behind him.

A few minutes later, I'm jumping into the water in my bra
and underwear, because I managed to forget my swimsuit, too. I blame my addled
mind on Jack's muscles. I turn around and watch him step down the back steps of
the yacht, then raise his arms above his head and dive in, barely making a
splash. He has remarkable grace for such a large human being.

I feel something grabbing at my bare leg and laugh. "Did
I get you?" he asks, surfacing next to me and shaking the water out of his
eyes.

"No, I managed to remember that sharks don't have
fingers," I reply, adjusting the snorkel on my face.

"I saw an eight-foot reef shark out here once," he
says, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Which would you rather encounter swimming in the
ocean, a reef shark or a bull shark?"

"A reef shark," he answers.

"Correct. Why?"

"Because bull sharks can also survive in fresh water,
and are therefore much scarier. But could we not talk about sharks while we're
treading water?"

"You brought them up!"

With a laugh, he takes my hand and pulls me toward the reef,
sticking his face in the water. I don't know how long we swim above it,
stopping every now and then to dive down and get a closer look at a piece of
coral. By the time I tug his hand, indicating I want to go back to the boat, my
limbs are exhausted.

"Oof," Jack groans, tossing his snorkeling gear
into the boat before pulling himself up. He leans back down to offer me his
hand, and lifts me out of the water without almost any help from me. "I
never skip workouts, but I might have to skip my second one today. Are you
sore?"

"Not yet, but I bet I will be," I reply as we walk
back up to the helm. He raises his eyebrows at me as he tosses a towel at me.
"Oh, there. Yes, a bit. I think moving around helped, actually."

"You want to explore below decks?"

I laugh. "Oh boy, there are so many boat-related puns
to make, but honestly yes, I do!"

He leads me down the steps and into a living room that's
nicer than the one in my old apartment. A long, L-shaped couch faces a flat screen
TV and there's a table in the corner. We pass through and then down a hallway.
He ignores several closed doors and leads me to the one at the end.

"The master bedroom," he says, pushing the door
open. I give a low whistle at the sight of it, covered almost completely in
white with a king-sized bed facing us. "Mind if we explore the shower
next? I want to get this salt off me."

"I don't know why I'm surprised there's a shower, but I
am," I say, shaking my head. He leads me into a similarly white bathroom
and turns on the water in the glass-walled stall.

"The fresh water won't last forever, but for a while,
at least," he says, tossing his towel on the toilet and pulling his suit
down to the floor. I blush and look at the ceiling, then realize what I'm
doing.

"I'm still not used to this…familiarity," I
explain as he gives me a quizzical look and then steps into the shower. "I
don't think I've seen you naked in the light of day before," I add, as I
pull my bra over my head, feeling a bit self-conscious.

"How do I hold up?" he asks, spreading his arms
and turning from side to side as the water streams down over him.

"Not that I have anything to compare it to, but pretty
well, I think," I say as I push my soggy underwear to the side with my
foot and step into the shower with him.

"Not even Miles?" he asks, pulling me into the
stream of hot water.

"Not yet," I hurriedly explain. "Soon,
though. He just moved into a new place, actually," I offer. At least that
part's true.

"I feel a little weird talking about him while we're
both naked," he admits. He's smiling, but he looks a bit pained.

"Sorry, I just…"

"It's not your fault. As soon as you become exclusive,
though, we have to stop."

"Of course," I reply, swallowing the sudden lump
in my throat. He leans down and kisses me, and my body swells with warmth,
pushing away the thought of whatever we have ending. I wrap my arms around his
neck and kiss him back hungrily. He pulls back and looks down at me for a
moment, then reaches for a bottle on the ledge of the shower.

He squeezes some of the body wash in his hands, then rubs them
together, creating a lather. His eyes find mine again, and he reaches forward,
placing his hands on my shoulders and sliding them slowly down my arms. I take
a deep, steadying breath as I feel a throbbing sensation behind my nipples and
they harden without him even touching them.

His hands move down my stomach, slick with the lather, gliding
in circles as he gently scrubs me. He starts down my right leg, wrapping both
hands around my thigh and massaging me with his strong fingers. He kneels on
the tile as he goes lower, behind my knee and then down my calf. My eyes close
as I luxuriate in his touch.

His hands leave my right foot and then immediately reappear
on my left foot, moving in the opposite direction now. My stomach muscles
clench as he reaches my thigh again, but still doesn't touch me
there
.

"Turn around," he orders me. I feel the low growl
of his voice reverberate in my body as though he's physically touching me. I
turn around and reach behind me to pull my long hair over my shoulder, leaving
it trailing down just over my left breast. His palms slide over my butt cheeks,
gripping them firmly before he rubs his thumbs back and forth on them. Then he
slides them up into the divot of my lower back and he stands to spread them
across my shoulders.

I feel the heat from his body against my back as he brings
his hands down to my waist and then slides them toward the front of my body. I
moan as he finally crests them over my breasts, massaging them firmly and then
rubbing my nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

"Hands on the wall," he instructs me, and I gasp
in surprise, less at his commanding tone and more at the fact that it turns me
on. I reach forward, resting my hands about shoulder height on the cool tile.
"Higher."

I slide them upward another foot and stop. Satisfied, he
begins to knead my breasts more firmly, and I feel him press his hard cock
against my slick lower back. His right hand leaves my breasts and slides down
my stomach. I spread my legs a little wider in anticipation, and my eyes roll
back in my head as his fingers find my clit.

I moan as he circles his middle finger around me. Just as my
nerves are beginning to feel overwhelmed, he slides his finger back and up
inside me. He goes slowly and gently, probably remembering that I'm sore from
last night. I tense as I feel a slight stinging sensation, but relax into him
as he slowly circles his finger inside me.

"Come here," he suddenly says, withdrawing his
hands and stepping back.

"Mm?" I reply unintelligibly, confused and
disappointed by this sudden change of direction. He takes my arm and pulls me
into the shower.

"Let's get these suds off you," he says, directing
the stream of water over me.

"OK," I reply, but wilt against his strong torso.
I just want to burrow here for a while.

"Bree," he says, taking me by the shoulders and
standing me back up. "The faster you rinse off, the faster I can get you
in bed."

"Shoulda said that," I reproach him, and turn
around so the water can wash off the soap on my back. He laughs and steps out
of the shower, grabbing a fresh towel and hurriedly drying himself off. I turn
off the water, hoping I got all the soap off, and step out into a towel he's
holding up for me. I squeak as he vigorously rubs me down, and then lifts me up
and carries me into the bedroom, depositing me towel and all on the bed. I
squirm my way over to him as he rummages through a drawer in the bedside table.
"Could we do it like in the shower? That position, I mean?"

"Sure," he says with a smile, pulling out a sleeve
of condoms. "Woah. Way to go, Dad."

"Gross," I moan. "Talk about a
mood-killer."

"Oh, you're not in the mood now?" he asks, arching
an eyebrow at me.

"Maybe," I reply with a grin, placing my feet on
his abs and curling my toes around the outlines of his muscles. He grabs my
ankles and pulls my legs apart as he tugs me toward the edge of the bed. His
head dives down and he takes a long lick of my slit that almost launches me off
the bed in excitement. "OK, I'm in the mood again," I gasp out.

He responds by standing up and pulling my feet back
together, and then placing one hand under my butt and flipping me over onto my
stomach. His hands slip under my hips and he tugs them up into the air so that
my knees come up onto the bed. I hear the rip of the condom foil and shiver in
anticipation. His hand slips back between my legs and I moan as he slides it
around my wetness. His thumb slides into my opening as his finger circles my
clit, and his other hand presses my knees a bit farther apart and my hips
lower. His thumb and finger move away and I feel his cock at my opening.

His hand reaches around my hips now
and his finger presses against my clit from the other direction. With the
pleasure he's eliciting from there, I find it easier to relax the rest of my
muscles to allow for his size. He begins to thrust in, and I bite my lip at a
sudden shot of pain. It's not as bad as last night, but now it's combined with
some soreness. He continues slowly, moving his finger around my clit the whole
time. He is able to proceed a little faster than last night, and soon I feel
that remarkable sensation of fullness again as he sheathes his cock inside me.

"This position has its
advantages," he says quietly, and I feel his hand that's not in use grasp
my left breast, massaging it as he pulls back out. My mouth drops open as he
thrusts back in. My nerves are on fire all over my body as he continues his
three-pronged assault. He begins to move faster, and I find myself curving my
ass up to meet him and slightly pressing my hips back against him. When he
feels my response, he thrusts harder, and I cry out as he makes direct contact
with my g-spot.

He drives on harder. My hands begin
to slide forward on the bed, and instead of pulling me back, he presses down on
top of me. My knees straighten as he lies down, keeping only a little of his
weight up on his elbows on either side of my back. He takes my hands in his and
intertwines his fingers with mine, keeping me pinned in place. I turn my head
to the side so that I can breathe just as he pulls out and thrusts back in. I
scream out as I'm overwhelmed with the sensation.

"Pull your legs together and
cross your ankles," he growls in my ear. I obey, and feel an added
pressure on his cock as he pulls out and drives back in. Now each of his
thrusts elicits a corresponding cry from me as he pounds mercilessly in and
out. I'm beyond any kind of control and completely in his power. "You're
mine," he growls. "Say it!"