Secret: A Military Stepbrother Romance (11 page)

She’s blushing again, but she nods. “Yeah, Dexter was telling me a little bit about your mom.”

I raise my brow again. “He was?” Dexter
never
talks about mom, not even when I try to wheedle it out of him. 

“Yeah.” She sighs. “Okay, honestly, your dad is gonna be great for my mom too.” Her lips curl in the hint of a smile. “Complications aside.”

Part of me — the normal, familiar part of me —  wants to hit myself in the side of the head. I mean what the
fuck
am I doing? Why the hell am I talking about our Goddamn parents with this girl? Let’s be fucking real, ‘Hey, let’s  talk about how we’re going to be legally step-siblings soon’ isn’t exactly the smoothest route into her panties again.

Of course, that said, I know damn well I
shouldn’t
be trying to get into her fucking panties. The
correct
thing to do here is to back the hell away from this girl, for all the reasons you could possibly think of. When the whole wedding announcement goes down and I get taken off the force, we can figure out our fucked up brother-sister with a dash of reckless sexual attraction relationship then. For now though, I should just do my
fucking
job and just concentrate on watching and protecting the person I’m
paid
to protect. 

And yet here I am
calculating
what I’m saying to her; like I’m trying to say the right things as if getting into her panties is an option here. 

Which is why I sit there in silence for the rest of the car ride, clenching my jaw and trying to ignore the way her scoop-neck t-shirt drapes across the tops of her breasts, or the way her hair falls in soft waves around her face, or the way her lashes frame the wild green of her eyes.

Yeah, see what I’m fucking up against?

Somehow, we manage to get the last four blocks to the Smithsonian and pull around back by the service entrance without my cock bursting out of my suit or me just outright tearing her clothes off. They need to award service medals for shit like this.

*****

“You know, I’m still having a hard time believing you were in the Army.”

We’re alone as we walk through the empty hallways of the closed wing. Okay, we’re not
alone-
alone, what with the security detail at the end of the hallway, the other teams guarding every exit and entrance and the back-up team waiting out back for the
slightest
hint of a threat. But for the moment, in the softly-lit hallway full of stone tables from who knows what ancient culture, it’s just her and me.

“Marines, actually.”

“Okay, even more-so then. Why? I didn’t think big-deal politician’s kids
went
to war.”

“They don’t, which is why I did.” 

“What, just to act out?”

I shrug. “Honestly, a little.” She looks at me in surprise and I grin. “I mean, I’d be lying if that wasn’t at least part of it. I was eighteen fucking years old and had a chip on my shoulder after the way things shook out with my mom dying and my dad working so much, and just said fuck it. There was a war on T.V. all the time, and I was tired of going to the same old parties with the same old douchebags talking about ‘what should be done.’ So I went out decided to be part of the solution and not just bitch about it.”

“You think fighting is the solution?” she says, turning to raise a brow at me.

“I know sitting around jerking off about it and not doing anything
isn’t
.”

We turn into one of the side rooms, full of more stone carving and totems and parts of ancient walls that are important enough to be in the Smithsonian, even if I don’t get it.  I’m out of my damn element here, but Maddie’s not, and watching her is making me grin as she takes this stuff in with this awed expression on her face. Element or not, and even though she’s moving
so
slowly from piece to piece, and reading
every
single on one of those damned cards next to each one, I’m not in the slightest bit bored watching her.

Of course, “watching her” also entails sneaking peeks at that perfect ass of hers in those tight, formal black pants. Let’s be real, the stuff on the wall isn’t the only work of art in here.

Maddie moves on into the next room, and I follow, still trying to keep a handle on the roaring of my own damn libido.  This room is much darker and much more sparse on the pieces of stone since this
is
the wing still under construction. 

We’re both peering in the dim, almost darkness of the room as we move through on to the next better lit room on the other side, when Maddie suddenly gasps as her foot catches on something. She goes tumbling forward, and I jump on pure instinct, jerking towards her in the darkness and catching her in my arms.

And it’s like time just fucking
freezes
in that moment.

Everything else in the world drops away, and I’m just frozen like that, holding her in my arms. I can feel her hands tightly gripping the lapels of my jacket, her face inches from mine, and the sound of her gasp filling my ears. 

Fuck
, that does it.

It’s the sound, really. Beyond the feel of her body against mine, or her hands clutching me, it’s that fucking
gasp
that does it. And I don’t even realize until I hear it that it’s a sound I’ve been
dying
to hear again. It’s not even anything sexual this time, but it’s like getting a fix I’ve been fiending for. That little gasp of hot air teasing again my ear as I catch her brings back everything from that night. That slightly innocent but anything
but
look in her eyes through the mask, the catch of her breath through those pouty lips.

And just like that, I’m rock hard, with her body pressed right against me.

She gasps again, but this time it's a low, halting sound. I can see her eyes flash up into mine in the dim light filtering in from the next room; can see her soft bottom lip suck between her teeth in that way she does that makes me want to bury my cock in her right here and now. 

“What are we doing?” she whispers.

“I thought we were looking at art,” I growl, my voice tight.

“There’s no art in here.”

“No other agents either,” I say softly, unable to tear my eyes away from that lip. 

My hands slide down to her hip, and her eyes dart across mine. “Hunter, what are you-”

“I
told
you, just showing you what you wanted to see.” My eyes adjust enough in the darkness to see the large stone sculpture half draped in a drop sheet behind her; the one in the middle of the floor that she managed to catch the edge of when she tripped. And then suddenly I’m pushing her back, making her gasp again as her back comes up against the ancient stone behind her. 

Walk away; walk the fuck away right now
.

Except I already know I’m not going to. I already know I’m not walking away from this girl until I get the fix that I crave. I want to hear her fucking
moan
for me again, just like she did before. 

I want to watch her face when she comes.

“Hunter, we shouldn’t wander off like this,” she says softly, her chest rising and falling with her hands still on my chest. 

“Oh, suddenly worried about the rules?” I move against her, hearing the whimper in her throat as I move my lips against her ear. “Still worried about what we should and shouldn’t do?” I can hear her breath catch, and her hands are clutching the front of my suit as she pulls me against her. 

“Besides, I think we both know we’re already well onto the list of things we shouldn’t be doing, doll,” I growl into her ear. “
Sex clubs
for instance?”

She pushes me back from her neck, her eyes locking with mine. “I already fucking told you, that was a one time thing.”

“Oh, sure it was.”

“What, like you?” Her eyes dart over mine. “I bet you’re there every weekend.”

I grin at her. “Maybe it was my first time there too, ever think of that?”

“I doubt that.”

“Oh, and why’s that?”

“Because you clearly knew what you were doing.” Her face blushes furiously the second she says it.

She stammers. “That’s not—  look, forget it.” 

But I’m already sliding my hands over her hip and letting them move down over her ass, pulling her to me. “So,” I growl, my eyes burning right into hers. “You’re saying I knew what I was doing when I made you come all those times that night.” 

“It was nothing special.”

“Sure it wasn’t.” I press against her, knowing she can feel how hard I am. I’m dying to feel how wet she is, because I
know
she is because of that flush in her cheeks and that catch in her breath. The way her eyes are so wide as they stare into mine in the dim of the room. We’re a breath apart, her soft mouth so close I could claim it with my own in a millisecond. “I’m willing to bet it was so good that you haven’t been able to stop thinking about it, actually.”

“I’ve forgotten about it entirely, actually,” she says softly.

“Uh-huh, I doubt that.”

“Doubt all you want, I can’t even remember it.”

“I could jog your memory if you want me to,” I growl, watching her gasp. I press harder against her, my hands gripping her ass and feeling the way her hips undulate towards me; the way she presses hotly into the thick bulge in my pants. 

She might be in this conservative fucking pants suit, but I know I can feel the heat there between her legs on my thigh. I lean forward again into her neck, my lips barely grazing over the skin of her collarbone as one of my hands slides up from her ass and starts to slide around, pulling the scoop-neck shirt out of her pants.

“What are you-”

“Making you remember,” I growl into her ear, before I take the lobe between my lips and suck.

And
there’s
the moan I’ve been dying to hear.

She
melts
against me as I nip her ear, her hands clutching me tightly against her, her hips rocking ever so slightly against me, as if urging me on. I’m in the Secret fucking Service, and I’m sworn to
protect
those under my watch, not
dry-hump
them in dark museums. I briefly wonder if doing this constitutes treason, and besides that, there’s the
lingering
fact that this is my soon-to-be stepsister.

Yeah, I might be fucking up
hard
here, but there’s no Goddamn way I’m stopping right now; not with that moan echoing in my brain.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I feel my heart pounding inside my breast, the blood roaring hot in my face. It’s like I can’t speak as I find myself staring wide-eyed up into those sharp blue eyes, somehow piercing even in the darkness of the room. Of course, even if I could, I don’t even know what I
would
say.

And so I say nothing when I feel his hand slide over my hip and across the waist of my pants, tugging at my shirt. I bite my lip, if only to hold back the moan in my throat when his fingers find the button at the front and deftly pop it open. And when he slips his hand under the material, and traces over the edge of my panties, all I can do is let myself fall into him.

His hand slides over the front of my panties, and I moan. His fingers find me soaking wet through the fabric as he teases my lips, and I whimper as he starts to rub me, my hands clutching at his suit and my mouth hanging open as I cling to him.