Score: A Stepbrother Sports Romance (64 page)

But when I turn around and press my hands against the glass and arch my ass back at him, I’m pretty sure that surprise turns into something else pretty quickly.

He growls as he enters me, and then he fucks me like he
owns
me, and it’s
exactly
how I want him to fuck me. His grip is tight on my hip, even bringing his hand down to smack my ass and make me cry out against the glass and the neon New York skyline. He grabs me by the hair and turns my face into his kiss, and I’m clawing and screaming at the edges of my sanity as I feel his length fill me again and again and again.

When I come, he’s right there with me, pressing his body flush to mine as we ride that wave together, our choked breaths coming as one as our heartbeats racing the other in a dead sprint.

I have
officially
gone off-script; both with the campaign and with whatever it is I’m doing with Hudson, and quite honestly, I’ve never been happier.

A
few nights later
, we’re driving in my car and I’m almost insulted when she doesn’t ask me where we’re going, but I see the grin on her face out the corner of my eye as I take us over the George Washington bridge and onto the Palisades Parkway. I let the horses under the hood roar as I gun us up the west side of the Hudson, letting New York fall away behind us in the rearview mirror as we head into the night.

Finally, I cave; “Well, shit, don’t you even want to know where we’re going?” Reagan’s face breaks into a wide smile; “I mean come on Archer, I prepared this whole little speech and everything.” I shake my head, feeling alive and on fire and more whole than I’ve felt in a
very
long time.

“I’ve got an
idea
where we’re going, but please, lets hear this speech of yours.” She sticks her tongue out at me, her whole face lit up by the dash and her smile just
flashing
right into me.

“Well, now I’ve forgotten it.” I shake my head as I sigh dramatically; “Your loss too, it was a good one.”

She laughs that musical laugh of hers and slides over across the bench seat against me. And as my arm goes around her shoulders and draws her close, I realize I have and will never feel more like Steve McQueen than I do in that perfect moment. It’s just Reagan and I, the car, and the road, and it’s just fucking
perfect
.

I know she
thinks
she knows where we’re going; to our place where the romance that didn’t, that
couldn’t
happen back then. But then is not now, and things are
very
different now with Reagan and I than they were back then a lifetime ago. I mean I was crazy about her back then, even if I didn’t know what to do with it. And now? Well now that I’m in lo- wow, shit. I feel my heart pound as I mull over that particular four-letter word, but I don’t even have to dwell on it to know its true.

When we drive past the Bear Mountain turnoff I know she recognizes, I grin broadly seeing her glance back at the sign out of the corner of my eye. She looks at me with a sly look; “Alright, you got me.”

“I’d say so.”

* * *

S
he’s cracking
up by the time I park the car, and as we stroll arm and arm towards the entrance she looks at me and shakes her head; “Seriously? A Renaissance faire?”

I grin; “Hey, might as well put that one semester to use huh?” She rolls her eyes and I pull her to me and kiss her hard as she melts into me. “You know,” I say, breaking away for a second; “I think it’s good for you to get out of that city sometimes. Now com’on Senator, let’s go get us some culture.”

“Oh, culture? Is that what we’re here for?” She nods towards two guys dressed in actual metal armor chugging enormous steins of beer while a woman dressed as some sort of tavern wench with her tits half hanging out cheers them on and shouts things like “m’lord.”

I shrug; “Well, you know,
someone’s
culture.”

She laughs, hugging my arm tighter in the chill of the air, and then we’re laughing as she loops her arm through mine and we stroll through fair-grounds.

“Why do I feel like I’m in high school or something right now?”

I laugh; “Were you a big Dungeons and Dragon’s kid in high school?”

“
No!
” She rolls her eyes at me in that adorable way that just makes me smile; “No I mean strolling around a fair like this, renaissance or not.”

She shrugs; “I always wanted to stroll around a fairgrounds with some hot boy on my arm.” She raises her eyes and looks at me, a blush of pink spreading over her cheeks.

“Oh, what, like you didn’t have guys beating down your door to stroll around
anywhere
with you back then?”

She shrugs; “Nope, I guess not. C’mon,
you
met me during that phase, back at that graduation party.”

I stare at her like she’s insane; “Yeah, and you were a fucking knockout.”

“I was a bookworm.”

“Yeah and that’s worked out
terribly
for you, hasn’t it Madame State Senator.” I shake my head at her as she giggles; “And besides, I
did
meet you back then, and you were, and remain, a total babe.”

She grins and pulls me in for a kiss; “So, how’s the fairground fantasy so far, Archer?” I murmur into her lips.

She laughs and looks around us until her eyes fixate on something behind us; “Well, you could go win me that stuffed dragon over there, that might make it complete.” She winks at me and leans close; “You might even get lucky later if you do.”

I arch my eyebrows, already feeling my cock stir in my pants; “Lucky- like I get to pick what we listen to on the way home?” I grin, knowingly baiting her.

She leans in again and brushes her lips across my ear; “Oh I meant lucky like you get to bend me over the hood of your car and fuck me like you mean it on the way home.”

She pulls away and winks at me, and I’m practically speechless; “You know I could just
buy
you the fucking toy and we could get to that part
now.
” She giggles as she grabs my hand and pulls me towards the game stands, and I’m wondering how I’m going to throw a fucking knife with a hard-on threatening to tear through my pants.

Both Reagan and the guy dressed like a jester stare at me with their jaws on the ground when I manage to not only hit the bullseye on the first throw, but then subsequently
split the handle
of that first knife with the second and then
third
throws. I shrug and grin smugly at the guy as he wordlessly passes me the stuffed toy before I turn to bestow it on Reagan.

“Ok, where the
hell
did you-”

“Eh, it’s just this thing I can do.” I don’t
need
to tell her that back in Africa, throwing knives were like the chess game of the mercenary circuit.

She’s just shaking her head at me though as she laughs and slips her hand into mine; “I don’t want to know, do I?”

I laugh; “Someday, but for now, there’s some fried dough over there with our name on it;
classic
fairground fantasy fodder.” She wrinkles her nose at the mention of fried dough, but I pull her close and kiss her; “And
then
, don’t think I’m not going to take you up on that offer of bending you over that car and fucking that sweet pussy of yours.” I growl, nodding with my chin at the stuffed dragon in her hand and letting her feel how hard I am as I press against her.

“You promise?” She whispers, her voice thick.

I
do
manage to get her to eat fried dough, and we drink hot cider, and even watch a damned
jousting
match, and it’s amazing.

No one knows her here; no one gives a shit
who
she is, and that’s a
good
thing. We laugh, and we’re making out in public like two idiot teenagers, and we’re invisible to the world around us. Out here, she’s not some hotshot politician. Out here, in my arms, she’s just a beautiful girl, kissing the luckiest guy in the damn world.

“
I
t looks so
quiet
from up here.”

I’d grinned and feel a little thrill of excitement shiver through me when Hudson swerved off the main road onto the turnoff I’d recognized before.

We’re back at our lookout spot on Bear Mountain looking out over the Hudson River and the shining lights of New York in the distance beyond that, just like we were all those years ago. Now though, it’s like I took every romantic fantasy I had back then and made them real.
This
time, we aren’t sitting on opposite sides, not touching and just sitting in our own unspoken feelings. This time, I’m snuggled right up against him, his arm is around my shoulders, and I’m leaning my head into his chest.

Our hands toy with each other, palms sliding together and fingers interlocking with fingers as we just stare out over the city in the stillness of the night.

“You’re right, you know,” I say, running my fingers over his wrist; “I do need to get out more often and just get away from all that.” I sigh. “Sometimes it just feels like I’m trapped in this whole act that isn’t even me; like I’m just playing a part in this play and spilling out the lines from this character I wasn’t ever meant to play.”

“You should speak your mind and say what you wanna say more often, Archer.” He grins; “Hell, you don’t ever hold back with me and you’ve seemed to have gotten my attention.”

I laugh and smack his hand away as it slides down over my breast; “Oh is
that
the kind of attention I’m looking for with my core voter pool?”

He snorts; “Hell no, this belongs to me only.” His hands slides back down and cups my breast through my thin sweater, and I roll my eyes.

“Oh,
belongs
to you, huh? So I guess I’m just your own private little plaything?”

“Yep, you’ve got it.”

I laugh again and nuzzle my face into his broad strong chest; “How come I can never tell if you’re a good influence or a terrible one?”

He chuckles; “Tell me that’s not half the fun.”

I close my eyes and grin and just savor the moment; “I just feel like we missed out on so much time, because of, well, you know.”

He reaches down and turns my face up with his fingers on my chin, and his eyes are boring right into mine; “It was time I needed to figure out me, and and time that you needed to become, well,
look
at you; now you’re this fucking sexy as hell State Senate candidate.”

I roll my eyes in mock disdain; “Oh,
now?
What was I back then,
hmm
?”

He kisses me fiercely; “Oh you just weren’t a politician back then;” his slides his tongue teasingly over my lips, making me smile; “But that doesn’t mean you weren’t sexy as
fuck
.”

Something about the way he says that word
fuck
sends a shiver of arousal through my body, and the fact that his hand is still on breast and that his finger is starting to circle slowly around my nipple through the thin material of the sweater has me suddenly squirming in my seat against him.

“Say it again,” I whisper, biting my lip as I feel his mouth slide down to my ear.

“What,” he says, sending electric shocks through my whole nervous system as he growls into my ear; “That you’re sexy as
fuck?
”

A small gasp escapes my lips as my eyes close, and I can feel him grin devilishly into my ear; “Ahh, does innocent little Reagan Archer get hot and bothered when I say the word ‘
fuck
’?”

“I’m innocent am I?”

“Not after I’m done with you.”

The moan that drops from my lips is the only confirmation he needs, and suddenly his hands are doing a lot more than teasing. I gasp as he slides them up under my sweater and under my bra, his fingers teasing my nipples. He kisses me fiercely, his lips bruising mine as he growls into my mouth, and only pulling back to pull the sweater off over my head and tear my bra off.

His hands are on my waist, his fingers teasing along the seam of my jeans; “Take these off,” he growls into my mouth. I look around sheepishly, even though I know we’re the only ones up here.

“Now, Princess.”

His words send a throbbing wave of desire right through me. God, how does he do that to me? I’m not one to be bossed around like this, and yet no sooner does he say it then I’m unbuttoning them and pulling them down off my feet.

“Those too.” He draws my mouth back to his as I skim my panties down my legs, and then I’m totally naked in the front of seat of Hudson Banks’s Charger.

I curl my legs up under me, but he stops me with a hand on my thigh. “Uh-uh, show me.” He looks at me like a wolf cornering his prey. “Show me how you played with yourself when you’d think of me.”

I blush and shake my head at him; “Why you
arrogant
-” I trail off as I bite my lip, seeing the fire in his eyes flare at me; seeing right into me. And suddenly, I
want
to show him; I want to show him
everything
.

I keep my eyes locked on his as I spread my legs and lean back against the door behind me. My heart is racing in my ears as I slide my hand down over my stomach, and then I’m moaning quietly as my fingers find my wetness. I’m biting my lip and gasping quietly as I roll my fingers over my aching clit, and the look of pure unbridled hunger and lust in his eyes is driving me crazy, as is the huge bulge in pants.

And then he’s pulling his shirt off, and my eyes are roaming over his muscles and his tattoos and his scars, and it’s so fucking hot and feels so goddamn sexy to be touching myself like this while he watches; “Hudson, I want to see-”

But he’s already yanking his pants down, and his thick cock is springing up to slap against his muscled abdomen. And then he’s leaning over across the seat between us and kissing his way up the inside of my thigh. My head is thrown back, and I’m biting my lip and still rubbing my clit as his tongue drags over my lips and pushes inside. My other hand clutches at his hair as he licks me slowly and then faster and faster, his tongue swirling around my opening before he slides it up and sucks my finger and my clit between his lips and sucks.

When he pushed a finger inside of me and curls it up against that sweet spot just inside, I’m crying out his name and bucking against him as I come for him.

And then I’m pushing him back and crawling into his lap. I can feel him pulsing hot against me as I grab him by the face and kiss him, tasting my own sweetness and not only not even caring but actually feeling more turned on by it. I reach down between us and position him against me, teasing him with my slippery wetness until he growls and pulls away from my lips.

“Hang on, I think I’ve got one in-”

“No.”

He frowns and looks up at me questioningly; “Reag-”

“Don’t put one on,” I say quietly, my eyes flashing as we lock gazes; “Not this time. I want to feel
you
and just you inside of me.”

He groans, his jaw tightening and his cock throbbing against me; “I’ve, uh-“ He furrows his brow; “That’s my one hard fast rule. I’ve never without one.”

I bite my lip, grinning at him shyly; “Look who you’re talking to, Marine; neither have I.”

His chest is rising and falling quickly with his breath as he stares at me with lust and wonder on his face, a look that makes me feel like every stupid girl-hood princess fantasy; “I’m clean-”

“So am I,” I say quietly, unable to stop myself from rocking my hips against him and feeling his thickness against me; “And I’m on the pill.”

This is
utterly
insane and
totally
reckless, and nothing I could picture myself doing in a million years, but that’s just how he makes me feel. It’s like he has this sort of power over me, and yet the fact that he’s willing to take the same leap with me speaks to the power
I
have over
him
; it’s a power we have with together, and it’s the last assurance I need.

“Fuck me, Hudson.” I whisper into his lips; “Fuck me like we’re the last two people on Earth.” I slide back onto him, gasping as I feel his head begin to slide into me.

“
Fuck, Reagan
.” He groans, and I’m whimpering as he slowly fills me entirely with his impressive length. His hands hold me tightly by the waist as he rocks in deeply, pulling me further and further down onto him until I moan as I feel myself press tight against his body. He feels incredible inside of me, filling me like I’ve never felt before, and when he grunts, I can feel the throbbing twitch of his pulse deep inside. His hands clutch at my ass, grinding himself against me and hitting that secret spot inside as we just rock like that for a second.

“Holy
shit
, Reagan, you feel fucking incredible.” He slides his fingers into my hair and grabs a handful of it, using his hold to pull me to his lips.

“Just you, and just me; nothing separating us,” I moan into his mouth.

We begin to rock together like that, me straddling his lap right there in the car as he plunges me up and down his length. We moan together, our breath and our tongues mingling as his hard muscled arms hold me tight and rock me against him.

He yanks my head back by the hair, making me cry out with pain and pleasure as his lips nip and suck at the sensitive skin along my collarbone. I rock on him, my nipples dragging over his chest and my clit grinding into his pubic bone as we move faster and faster together and I feel myself begin to tumble over the edge.

“I’m- I’m going to- Oh
fuck
, Hudson, I’m-”

“Oh
fuck
me too,” He growls, biting my earlobe and rocking deep into me; “Come for me, Reagan, come all over my big cock.” The thought of Hudson coming with me,
bare
and totally unprotected inside of me has me clawing at the edges of my sanity as I begin to fall. He grinds up into me one last time, and it’s like a bomb going off.

I scream his name, my fingers clawing at his biceps and his shoulders as the whole world shatters around me. He’s hugging me to him tightly as he roars out my name, and then I can
feel him
throbbing within me as he lets go and just fills me with his hot cum.

We stay like that, wrapped in each other’s arms and in each other’s heat in the steamy-windowed darkness of the car.

There’s so much I want to say in that moment, and then later when we drive home in grinning silence, or even after that back at his penthouse when I curl up to him in his bed, but I just don’t know how. I can give a million wordy speeches to crowds of cheers or jeers, or cameras broadcasting my face and my words to televisions across the country, and it’s effortlessly without a second thought in the world.

So why is it when it comes to saying
three words
to the one man I’m dying to say them too, I suddenly feel like I’ve come down with stage fright?