Raging Hard: A Stepbrother SEAL Romance (With bonus novel Based!) (16 page)

I couldn’t believe how afraid he was of them, almost more afraid of them than he was of my knife against his throat. That was some serious mojo, and it proved that these people were not to be fucked with.

“What are they called?” I asked.

“Don’t make me say it.”

“Say it or die.”

He sighed. “They’re called the Broken Hearts.”

I let that sound linger. “Where do they meet?”

“Nobody knows that. I swear I don’t know.”

“Give me a name now.”

“I can’t. I don’t know any.”

“They’re a local institution, right? You know everything about this area, right? You know a name.”

“Please. I’ve told you too much.”

“One name and you don’t have to die tonight.”

“This is all I know. I can’t run away.”

“I’m losing patience, Dan.”

I could feel him trembling as he began to internally war with himself. He was clearly thinking that if he gave up a name, he really would have to leave town, and for good. He couldn’t decide if that was worse than dying.

I decided to help him along. I kicked the back of his knee, sending him to the ground. I grabbed his hair, pulling his chin back, exposing his throat. I kept the knife right against his jugular, ready to bleed him like an animal.

“Eli Reddington,” he said quickly.

“Thank you, Dan.”

I released his hair and he tumbled forward. Before he could even turn around, I was back out the door, disappearing into the shadows.

As I moved away, jogging at a good clip to give myself some space to maneuver in case Dan decided to call the cops, I had a bad taste in my mouth. It was unpleasant to bully a perfectly decent person, or at least a normal person. I didn’t actually want to hurt Dan, and likely wouldn’t have, but I needed him to think I was going to.

But now I had my name. Eli Reddington, member of the Broken Hearts. Apparently they were some scary, small-town cult of powerful community leaders. Scary enough for Dan the barman to fear them more than his impending and immediate demise.

As I climbed back into my car, parked well away from the bar, I realized I had more questions than answers. For example, what was a local outfit like them doing running a pirate operation? It seemed highly unlikely that they would rob a local tourist company. Unless they were specifically targeting Jonathan’s boats, but even that seemed far-fetched. They couldn’t have known that the boat was empty of tourists, and there was no way they’d attack a local boat full of tourists and risk the bad press. They didn’t want to lose the tourist dollars.

It just made no sense. Why would Dan be so afraid of them if they were so clearly amateurs? The Broken Hearts probably had years of mythology behind them, to the point where the local idiots mistook community power and influence for real power and ability.

My mind was spinning as I drove home, wondering what the next move was. The name “Eli Reddington” was my lead, but I needed to do some more digging before I could move on him.

Plus, there was the problem of Claire. All through that interrogation, I kept thinking about her sweet little pussy. She was my motivation to push this mystery further, to find out who the Broken Hearts were. I was beginning to worry she was in real danger from them, whoever they were.

I couldn’t let that happen. As much as I hated to admit it, Claire had somehow wormed her way into my brain and had lodged herself there. I kept thinking about her laugh, her smile, her perfect fucking tits, those lips wrapped around my cock, and the sweet release of coming in her tight-as-fuck cunt. I wanted to fuck her deep and sweet again and again, even though that wasn’t normally my style.

I had been looking forward to some relaxing R&R, not some bullshit local cult mystery, let alone getting addicted to my stepsister’s incredible pussy.

Then again, I was a fucking SEAL. What other men saw as a problem, I saw as a fucking challenge. I lived to do shit like that, to take care of lesser assholes and to protect people that needed protecting.

Maybe taking down some assholes was exactly what I needed. And maybe my stepsister’s incredible pussy was all a part of it.

I
woke up slowly and felt cold, though it was still pretty warm in my room. It took me a second to realize that I was missing Nate’s body, even in my sleep.

I sat up and yawned, looking around the room. There was no sign that Nate had come back with me to my bedroom and had fallen asleep in my bed. He had said he wanted to dirty up my sheets, too, though at that point I was beyond exhausted and practically falling asleep.

I remembered drifting off, surprised that he was falling asleep with me. He didn’t seem like that kind of guy.

But I wasn’t shocked that he was gone.

I checked my phone and found a ton of messages from Lydie—everything I’d been ignoring for the last day. I climbed out of bed and went into the bathroom to brush my teeth. Nate’s door was open and he wasn’t in his room.

There was a dull ache between my legs, and as I rinsed out my mouth and looked into the mirror, it hit me: I wasn’t a virgin anymore.

More than that, I’d given my virginity to my stepbrother. It was so insane it was almost impossible to believe, and yet the ache between my thighs proved it was true.

I didn’t feel different. I didn’t even look different. Somehow, I thought that losing my virginity would make me different, but I was the same old Claire I’d always been. Except now, as I began to think about the night before, I felt a deep, dark longing in my pussy for Nate’s perfect cock.

It was a hunger I’d never experienced before, and it nearly scared me. I wanted him, wanted every inch of him, even though the part of me that thought he was an arrogant jerk was still very much there.

Everything came flooding back to me then. I retreated back to my room, wrapping myself in my blankets as I remembered the look on his face as he pulled his knife from the pirate’s neck.

That was the real impossible thing. I couldn’t believe I lived in a world where there were real pirates, even though our pirates used speedboats and carried huge guns. And none of them had eye patches or peg legs.

Nate had scared me at first, but I quickly gave in to exactly what I had really wanted from the very start. It had always been him that I’d wanted, or at least his incredible body, ever since I’d seen him that night in the club. But I couldn’t have him, not really.

Even though I’d already given part of myself to him.

Eventually my strange desire to stay hidden in my room forever lost to my grumbling stomach. I put some fresh clothes on and walked downstairs and into the kitchen, making a pot of coffee and pouring myself a bowl of cereal.

“Good morning.”

I looked up as Lucille came into the kitchen. Her hair was a mess and she was clearly still wearing the same clothes from the night before. Her makeup was practically running down her face, and she looked like she smelled something sour.

“Good morning,” I said back.

“Where’s my idiot son?”

That surprised me. “Uh, I don’t know.”

“Typical. He comes and stays in our house and just disappears most of the time.”

She poured herself some coffee and sat down at the kitchen table.

“I’m sure he’s just busy.”

“Ungrateful, actually. Ungrateful and uneducated.” She paused, putting one hand to her head. “My fucking skull is pounding.”

I gaped at her. I’d never heard an adult talk like that, especially about her own kid. She looked more like a college party girl than a grown woman.

“Did you and my dad go out last night?”

“We sure did. Went to one of his clubs.”

“You got my dad out to a club?”

“It’s his own place. He can do whatever he wants.” She sipped her coffee and looked at me. “You father isn’t as boring as he seems.”

I had no clue what to say to that. “I don’t think he’s boring.”

“You’re the only one, then. But Jonathan can have a good time when he wants to.”

“That’s good.”

I felt like I was watching a train wreck in slow motion. What did my dad see in this woman? Actually, the more I looked at her, the more I understood. Dad was getting older. He probably liked Lucille because she had blonde hair, good boobs, and probably made him feel young, even though they were close to the same age.

“Where is he now?”

“Who knows?” she said. “He didn’t drink nearly enough last night. Probably out fishing like usual.”

“What do you mean, enough?”

She laughed. “I mean I drank enough for the both of us, I guess.”

For a second, I had the horrible fear that Lucille was Lydie in the future. I decided right there to try to forgive Lydie. I couldn’t live with myself if Lydie ended up like Lucille, old and bitter and mean. Maybe I couldn’t do anything about it, but I could at least be her friend.

“God, I feel like shit,” Lucille muttered. “I’m going to go sit out by the pool. Tell your father where I am.” She stood and looked at me. “You look like shit, too, girl. You should get more sleep.” She walked out the back door.

I stared at the door for almost a full minute before bursting out laughing. She was right, I probably did look like shit considering what had happened the day before. I had watched her son kill two men and dispose of their bodies, and later I had let him fuck me until my body couldn’t take any more.

It was almost a little weird looking her in the eye and having a conversation with her considering her son had just had his thick, perfect cock deep inside me. She would probably go absolutely insane if she knew what had happened between us. That made me almost happy, and there was a dim part of me that wanted to shove it in her face.

Except then I imagined how my father would react, and a stone dropped into my stomach. Suddenly, I had no more appetite.

He’d lose it. I just knew he’d lose it. And understandably, considering I was fucking my stepbrother. Dad clearly liked Nate, or at least he liked him enough, but he would never, ever let me date someone like Nate, let alone have sex with him. I was still Dad’s little girl, after all, and the only guys he wanted me to date were rich gentlemen.

Except I was learning that I had no interest in rich gentlemen. Apparently the thing I wanted was a dirty-talking, asshole Navy SEAL with a big dick and a bad attitude. I could feel myself blushing just at the way I was thinking, which was crazy.

The whole situation was bizarre. I knew I’d never actually date Nathan or anything like that, and I didn’t think I even wanted to. But still, he somehow got under my skin in more than one way.

Eventually I finished up breakfast and wandered back up to my room. I really didn’t want to run into Lucille again or be around when my dad eventually got home. It was getting close to eleven in the morning, and Nate still wasn’t back from wherever he went, which was bugging me. I knew he could do whatever he wanted, but yesterday was such an insane thing. It would have been nice to have someone to talk to about it.

I found myself scrolling through Facebook on my phone when I got another text from Lydie. I sighed and decided that I had punished her long enough. I clicked her name, calling her.

“Hey!” she said, answering the phone on the first ring.

“Hi, Lydie. Sorry I haven’t gotten back to you.”

“Listen, I am so, so sorry about everything. I have been such a mega bitch. I deserve to get fire ants shoved up my cooter.”

I made a face. “Okay, gross. That was really graphic.”

“Sorry. Would you rather scorpions up my butt?”

“Maybe just skip the body horror stuff entirely.”

“Okay, whatever.”

“Look, I’m not really mad at you anymore.”

“I’m really happy you just said that.”

“But you were being a dick.”

“You’re right, I was. I can make a bunch of shitty excuses, but truthfully, I’ve been a real cock and I’m sorry.”

I smiled. “It’s good to be talking to you again.”

“Ugh, I know. What’s it been, a whole day? I’m like shaking from Claire withdrawal.”

“Want to get your fix?”

“God, you know I do. I’m craving your sweet lips.”

“Meet me at the coffee shop in a half hour?”

“Oh, bitch, you’re singing my tune. See you there.”

She hung up. I smiled to myself the whole time I got dressed.

––––––––

“I
don’t care if I’m a cliché,” Lydie said. “I love pumpkin spice lattes.”

“It’s not even fall.”

“The PSL can be consumed at any time, Claire. Don’t be so narrow-minded.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted.”

“I’m more of a plain black myself.”

“I know.” She made a face. “Plain boring, you mean.”

“I just don’t need the thirty tons of sugar they put in that thing,” I replied, gesturing at her cup.

“First of all, I try not to think about that. And second, yeah, okay, but that’s what makes it so delicious.”

“You have a point.”

We laughed and sipped our drinks. I looked around the little coffee shop and felt calm for the first time since I’d woken up.

The shop was a little hole in the wall in the downtown area of our small town. It was pretty empty, but it would fill up soon enough. It looked like a Starbucks, except it was even more nautical-themed and was owned by local people. I loved it, and I always went out of my way to go during the summers I spent down on the shore.