Bastard’s Baby(81)

Cindy waved her hand. “He’s been in the jungle or something equally crazy, so I doubt he knows much more than you do.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What was he doing there?”

“Training, I think. He’s a mixed martial arts fighter.”

“Wow, that’s pretty amazing,” I said.

“I suppose.”

As if on cue, the sound of a loud motorcycle roaring down the street filtered in through the open windows.

“Speak of the devil,” Cindy said. “I bet that’s him.”

Just as the noise of the engine peaked, it suddenly cut off. I followed Cindy and Dad over to the front door. We stepped outside onto the front stoop.

I’d never had a brother or a sister before. I had to admit, I was looking forward to meeting him. I hadn’t realized that Cindy had kids since nobody mentioned him in the press, but it wasn’t surprising. I knew Dad wasn’t her first marriage.

I watched as a tall, muscular man stepped off a black-and-chrome bike. He reached up and pulled the dark helmet off.

My eyes widened and I took a step back.

That night almost a year ago came rushing back. The moonlight through his hair, the cocky grin as he walked down the beach with me.

“Alexa,” Cindy was saying, “this is Cole, my son.”

I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even move.

It was him. It was my stranger, my husband.

My stepbrother.

I was horrified. I couldn’t move.

“Alexa,” he said, grinning hugely and walking up the stoop toward me. “Good to meet you.”

There was something playful in his eyes, something knowing. He definitely recognized me, there was no doubt about it, but he was pretending for our parents’ sake.

“Uh, sure,” I said, shaking his hand. I hadn’t gotten myself together enough for more.

Everything about him was so familiar. All those moments came rushing back to me. The ache of my body, our limbs stretched out together, the warm sand under my feet as he laughed and threw seashells into the waves.

My husband was back.

I was so damn close. I was so damn close to getting away from him.

“I look forward to getting to know you better, stepsister,” he whispered.

I could only stare at him, wide-eyed in terror.





2





Cole





It was humid as hell the first night I saw her. I was sweating in my button-down shirt and shorts as I made my way down to the beach, bored of the drunk tourists.

Thailand wasn’t a vacation for me, even though I was staying at a resort. It was my last hurrah before the next year, a final week to blow off steam before I went into hardcore training mode.

My two main goals were pussy and alcohol, not necessarily in that order. I knew I was going to have to abstain from everything when the real work began, but I was going to indulge as much as I could all week first.

It wouldn’t be easy for me to go a while year without pussy, but it was the sort of sacrifice I knew I needed to make to take my career to the next level.

As I made my way toward the water, there she was. More specifically, I watched as she tripped and landed face-first in the sand.

My initial instinct was to laugh. Yeah, I admit it, I was an asshole. But you’d want to laugh, too, if you saw someone trip on a seemingly perfectly flat beach.

Instead, I walked over to her and made sure she was okay.

Sometimes, I wished I hadn’t done that. In the next few weeks, in the dead of night when I was being eaten alive by fucking bugs and I couldn’t get her body out of my mind, I’d almost regret it.

But I’m not the type to have regrets, not really. I wanted to fight hard and fuck harder. That’s all I cared about in life.

Except there she was, this sexy as fuck girl slowly getting to her feet.

I knew I needed her. I knew I needed to posses her, fuck her, make her come on my big cock until she couldn’t think of anything other than my dick and my body against hers. I was completely sucked into her, and I knew I’d do whatever to have her.

And at first, it was exactly like that. Her pussy was like fire for my mouth as I tongued her little clit in the middle of the afternoon, making her back arch. It was incredible, my fingers exploring every inch of her, and yet still she held back. I wanted more, always more, but she wasn’t ready to let me have it all.

I couldn’t get that last night out of my head. We’d just done on this stupid fake marriage ceremony, for some dumb reason. It was funny and lame, but for some reason I felt like it almost meant something. Later, back in my room, I slipped her panties down her smooth, tanned skin and pressed my mouth up against her pussy.

“Who are you?” she gasped as I began to tongue her clit.

“Just someone who loves to taste you,” I said in between mouthfuls of her sweet cunt.