Throttle MC: A Stepbrother Romance (6 page)

But now, right in the middle of all these goddamn plans, drops Hadley Cooper. 

I shut off the water and stepped out of the shower.  Grabbing the towel off its nearby hook, I wrapped it around my waist and went out to the kitchen to grab a beer, which I drank sitting on the couch and staring into space. 
Fuckin’ rotten luck
.  When I had left Hadley on the side of the road, I had been hoping she would come to the garage so I could finish what I’d started.  Well, I got part of my wish, anyway, in the worst possible way.
My fuckin’ stepsister. Unbelievable
.  Still, it wasn’t like we were actually related by blood or anything.  Would it really be such a bad thing, if she and I...?

I snorted and took another swig of beer.  Of course it would.  That we weren’t actually related didn’t matter. Even if I wasn’t trying to get Lon to trust my judgment enough to turn the club in another direction, I still couldn’t betray him like that.  I knew from the other brothers that part of the reason Lon had sent her away in the first place is that he didn’t want her around a bunch of horny bikers as she grew into an adult. And I could completely understand that.  Hadley was amazing: drop-dead gorgeous, and obviously smart.  She was too good for the likes of a dirtbag like me.  

If I wanted to do what I knew was best for the club, I had to decide once and for all that Hadley was off limits. 

As I sat there on the couch, watching the afternoon sun begin to dip down toward the horizon through the sliding glass window, I heard a knock on my door. “Yeah?” I called.

The door opened a crack and my mom’s head peeked through.  “Ryker, your dad wanted me to make a family dinner for the four of us tonight.  You wanna come up around seven?”

Shit
.  About the last thing I wanted to do was participate in a goddamn family dinner right now. But I knew that if I was gonna live in the same house as Hadley, I would have to suck it up and pretend that my feelings for her were nothing but fraternal.  “Sure, Randi. I’ll be up.”

As she closed the door, I finished my beer and stood up to get dressed.

I would just have to ignore Hadley Cooper as much as possible. 

I woke up the next morning still fuming from the experience of dinner the night before.  Randi had insisted on making a “family dinner” for us all, so I got to spend my very first evening sitting around the table with my father, my new stepmother, and my new stepbrother.

Yup. One big happy family.

I sat across from Ryker over a meal of fettucine and garlic bread, trying to act normal.  Ryker picked at his food and didn’t say much.  My dad beamed like a patriarch at the head of his table. Randi had an onslaught of questions for me about school, what I had majored in, and what I wanted to do next.  I tried my best to give answers that were as vague as possible, since in reality, I had no idea what I would do next.  And sitting there, across from my new stepbrother, I had no idea what I was doing there anymore, either. 

When dinner was over, I got up to help Randi clear the table, and the men moved into the living room.  In the kitchen, Randi took dishes from me with a look in her eye as though she was trying to think of how to say something.  Finally, she cleared her throat and said, “You know, your dad is really glad you’re back.”

“I’m not
back
.  I’m just here for a visit,” I corrected.

“Sorry, I know,” she nodded, and looked down pensively.  “It’s just... I know that he’s regretted the decision to send you away.  He was afraid he’d never see you again. He’s just... really glad you’re here.”

“Did he actually say that? That he was sorry he sent me away?” I asked her pointedly.  Randi’s face fell at my words, and I felt a little bad about my tone. I hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings.  But I knew my dad.

“Not... not in so many words,” she admitted.  “But he talks about you, Hadley.  Not to the men.  But he talks about you to
me
. How proud he always was of you.  How smart you are.”  She turned on the water in the sink and tipped some dishwashing liquid into the water. “He kept tabs on you, you know.  He knew you were getting close to graduating.  I know he wished he could have been there to see you walk across that stage.”

I snorted softly to myself.  I hadn’t walked across the stage at all.  There wasn’t anyone to see me do it, so it seemed pointless.  The only celebrating I had done was to crack open a beer for myself the day I got my diploma in the mail.

This line of conversation was making me uncomfortable, so I decided to change the subject.  “You and Dad seem happy together,” I said. “I’m glad.”

Randi looked up at me with a smile, her eyes shining bright. “We are.  He’s a good man, Hadley.  A good husband.” She turned off the water and put her hands on her hips.  “Now, you go out there and get caught up with your father. I don’t need any help with these dishes.”

Randi hustled me out of the kitchen, but when I went into the living room, there was no sign of my dad.  Ryker was sitting on the couch, flipping channels with the remote.

“Where’s Lon?” I asked him.

Without looking at me, he muttered, “Left.  Club business.”  Ryker stood and turned off the television.  “I gotta go, too.  Tell Randi thanks for dinner.” And with that, he turned and strode out the front door. A few seconds later, the engine on his Harley started, and I heard the bike pull away, accelerating into the night.

I should have been relieved.  I know I should have.  But what I felt instead was a mixture of disappointment and fury.  “Asshole,” I seethed.

“What?” Randi said, poking her head through the kitchen door.  “Where are the men?”

“Club business,” I said tonelessly.

She laughed like someone who was used to it.  “It’s always club business.”

“Yeah,” I nodded.  “Always club business.”

I spent that night tossing and turning in the unfamiliar queen-sized bed, trying as hard as I could to get Ryker Stone out of my mind. Finally, I managed to fall into a fitful, dreamless sleep. The next morning, Randi was off to work early and I had the house to myself. I was still replaying the previous night’s dinner in my head and trying to decide what to make of it all when my cell phone rang.  Lon was calling from the garage to tell me my car was ready.

“Just had to replace the worn seals.  Should be fine now,” he told me. 

“Thanks, Dad,” I said sincerely. It was funny; after so many years of being on my own, having someone take care of me felt unexpectedly comforting.  I felt a small lump form in my throat, and swallowed it back.

“No problem, baby girl,” he replied.  “Just one of the perks of having an old man with a garage.  I called Ryker and asked him to bring you in to the garage to pick the car up whenever you’re ready.”

Great
.  Well, at least once my car was back, I wouldn’t be trapped here with no wheels.  “Okay, thanks, Dad.  I appreciate it.”

“See you later, baby girl.”  I heard the click as he hung up. I threw my phone on the bed and decided to get started with my day.

I went to the kitchen, rummaged around for a bag of coffee grounds, and started up the maker.  While I waited for it to be ready, I headed into the bathroom to take a quick shower.  Back in my bedroom, I towel-dried my hair, slipped on a pair of cotton sleep shorts and a tank top, then went back out to the kitchen to grab my coffee.  I had just finished pouring myself a cup when a deep voice behind me murmured, “Good morning.”

I shrieked in shock and turned to see Ryker sitting at the kitchen table.

“Oh, my God!” I cried, my face flushing.  “You scared the life out of me! I almost dropped my coffee! Don’t you know how to knock?”

A faint smile played across his lips. “Well, I do live here, after all.  Why would I knock?” His eyes slid down over my body as he spoke, and I remembered that I hadn’t put a bra on.  Reddening, I turned my back to him and focused on the coffee maker. 

“You don’t live here, you live downstairs,” I bit out. “But fine. Don’t knock.  What the hell do I care?”

“Your dad wants me to bring you to the shop to pick up your car,” Ryker continued. 

I tried not to think about where his eyes were as I kept my back to him. “I know.  I was going to come
knock
on your door –
when I was ready
,” I said pointedly.

“So noted,” he replied mildly, taking a sip from the cup of coffee he had helped himself to.

I hated this.  Why did I get so flustered in his presence?  And what kind of game was he playing? One minute, he was completely ignoring me.  The next, he was sitting there at the kitchen table undressing me with his eyes. 
Ugh
. I took a deep breath, let it out, and told myself I would not let him rattle me like this.

“Okay.  Fine.” I turned back to him, looking him directly in the eyes.  “Thank you for agreeing to drive me to get my car.” I worked to keep my voice as absolutely neutral as possible. “I am not dressed, as you can plainly see...”

“Yes, I can,” he smirked, his eyes traveling down my body appreciatively. 

“... so I am going to my room to get dressed now.  I’ll be out in a minute.”  I didn’t wait for an answer.  I turned and walked slowly and deliberately through the kitchen, my head held high.  I forced myself not to break into a run once I got into the hallway. Once in my room, I let out the breath I’d been holding and ran to my dresser to rummage around for a pair of jeans.  As I was turning around to slip off my shorts, I noticed Ryker’s form had appeared in the doorway.

I shrieked again. “Goddamn it, what are you doing?” I yelled, instinctively holding my jeans in front of me.

“I’ll be fucked if I know,” he murmured.  He stepped into the room, pulled my jeans out of my grasp and threw them to the floor, then moved close.  His lips came down on mine, hard, punishing, as he crushed me against him. I gasped as I felt the heat and hardness of his need, and before I could stop myself, my traitorous body was straining toward him. 

I know it’s a mistake.  I know I should stop him.  But I don’t care.  My body reacts instantly to Ryker’s urgent kisses and I moan against his mouth as his hands press my hips into his.  I thrust and writhe, whimpering at the sweet agony, my needful nub straining for release against his hard bulge. His hands find my breasts through my thin T-shirt and I gasp as one of his thumbs flicks against my hardening nipple.  His mouth leaves mine and traces a burning path down my throat.  His whiskers burn my skin, and I’m on fire for him.

Wordlessly, he presses me down onto the bed, and I let him.  I lie on my back, raised up on my elbows, and look at him as he gazes back down at me.  His eyes are dark, stormy, and filled with a desire that borders on anger.  He reaches down with both hands and, without a thought, grasps the neckline of my shirt and rips it in half.  I gasp, my lips parting, and watch his eyes fall on my full breasts with their taut, waiting nipples.  A deep growl rumbles up from his throat as he reaches down and pulls my shorts off, then stands back up again.  “Jesus fucking Christ,” he whispers.

He tears his own T-shirt off over his head and then he is on the bed with me.  He pushes me back against the sheets, spreading my legs wide. 
Oh, God.
His head dips between my thighs, and I feel the tickle of his hair against my leg a fraction of a second before his tongue finds my aching core.  I cry out, loudly, as he drags his tongue slowly and deliberately along the sides of my pussy.  I can’t help it, my hips buck upward eagerly for more as he lazily swirls his tongue around my nub, drawing circles just softly enough to torture me.  I cry out again in frustration as I arch my back, desperate for him to stroke me harder with his tongue, and then I’m calling his name, begging him, as his lips wrap around my clit and he begins to suck. 

I can’t hold back now.  He knows exactly what he’s doing, he is in control and he knows it.  His hands ease my thighs wider apart as he flattens his tongue and laps at me.  The pleasure builds and I know any minute he’ll make me come.  One hand leaves my thigh and reaches up to my breast, gently squeezing my aching nipples. He begins to suck on my clit again, flicking his tongue between his lips against my swollen nub, and I scream his name and fly over the edge.

He continues licking and sucking me as I writhe against his mouth, lost in the most intense orgasm I’ve ever known.  My hands are in his hair, my hips are thrusting as I spasm.  Eventually, I can’t take any more and I push him away, breathing hard.

In an instant he rises up over me and stands. I watch in anticipation as he reaches into his back pocket, pulls out a wallet and then a condom, and kicks his jeans off into a heap beside the bed.  I notice the ripple of his tattooed arms as he pulls open the wrapper and slides it over his thick, pulsing root.  I scarcely have time to admire how beautiful he is before he is kneeling back on the bed. Suddenly, I have to have him inside me, and his eyes lock onto mine as he leans forward and the tip of him presses hotly against my weeping hole. With a groan, he closes his eyes and slips deep inside me, and I can’t believe the perfection as he fills me.  He freezes, and then after a few moments he begins to thrust, slowly at first and then faster.  My hands wrap around his body as I pull myself forward.  I throw my head back and moan in ecstasy as he rocks against me.  “Fuck!” he mutters, his tone urgent.  My fingers rake across his back.  He pulls me with him, higher and higher, as our voices meet in matching cries of need.  Soon, a loud groan rips from him as he stiffens, and I call his name and come again as he shudders and fills me with his release.