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.
Chapter Eleven: Claire
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.