Dirty Wicked Lust: A Stepbrother Romance by Amanda Heartley Page A
Authors: Amanda Heartley
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pussy fragrant with desire as I returned to the pool, the water cooler now but no less inviting as I sank beneath its surface and emerged, reaching for my beer only to freeze, hand in mid-reach.
“I thought you might need a new one,” he said, standing in the sliding glass doors, one foot on the deck, the other still in the living room. “You look a little… hot and bothered.”
I nodded, too shocked to speak. What had he seen? “But… I heard you snoring?” I said, instinctively covering my bare breasts as he inched closer, a cold green beer bottle in each large, masculine hand.
He shrugged. “I’ve been tossing and turning all night,” he confessed, looking edible in his standard sleepwear of thin, cotton boxers that, as always, left little to the imagination. “I finally gave up and came down for a glass of water when, lo-and-behold I find my little stepsister, well… like this…”
I blushed, watching him set the fresh beer down before sinking onto the pool deck to join it. He slid his feet, then ankles, then calves into the water, trilling them back and forth beneath the surface as if it was summer camp and he was sitting on a floating dock. “I didn’t… I thought I’d be alone.”
“I can leave,” he said, “but you looked pretty fucking hot.” Making no move to back up his claim. Instead he sat, swirling his big feet in the soft blue water, gazing at me shamelessly, his lips curled into that wicked, crooked smile.
“No, no,” I said too quickly, reaching for the beer he’d brought me. “I mean, who would bring me refills then?”
He chuckled, his belly flat above the waistband of his boxers, torso littered with exotic tattoos, nipples hard in the pre-dawn darkness. His eyes were luminous beneath the moonlight, his cheeks still scruffily sexy—even dangerous. He watched me linger, one arm still half-covering my bare breasts as my heart pounded. My insides throbbed with a delicious mix of confusion, frustration and even… anticipation .
“A little middle of the night skinny dipping, huh?” he mused, stating the obvious.
I shrugged. “It sounded refreshing,” I said between fresh sips of my new, cold beer.
“It looks it,” he said, his voice filled with something much more than curiosity.
“I’d tell you to come in and try it,” I sighed, resting my beer bottle next to his on the pool deck as I gazed up at him from the soft, trickling water. “But we both know how that ends…”
“Maybe not,” he mused, gradually, after a pregnant pause. “Maybe this time it… ends… differently, Heather.”
I arched one eyebrow, my belly quivering, and not just from the long, slow fingering session in the hot tub or the shock and awe of seeing Ryan and his bulging boxer shorts beside the pool.
“Is that so?” I chuckled, nervously, my heart hammering as blood rushed through my ears.
He nodded, polishing off his beer before setting it onto the deck and promptly lifted himself up with both hands and slid deftly into the pool. His body was trim and fit, his move so athletic, he barely caused a ripple as he slid into the water, bare torso glistening beneath the furious moonlight, his eyes alive as he began to wade closer to me.
“Uh huh,” I teased, wagging a wet, dripping finger and stopping him in his tracks. “This is called skinny dipping, Ryan, and you’re… severely… overdressed.”
He chuckled, and with a similarly deft movement, reached down to quickly tug his boxers off. He lifted them from the water, dripping from one long, thick finger, only to toss them next to my clothes near the shallow end.
Chapter Thirteen
“Fair enough?” he teased, inching closer as I admired the long, luxurious lines of his naked body. He was statuesque, to put it lightly, long, sculpted legs, a narrow waist, broad shoulders and a glorious, fat cock, nestled amidst a small but robust patch of brown pubic hair, glistening beneath the water’s rippling surface.
“Oh,” I murmured,
“I thought you might need a new one,” he said, standing in the sliding glass doors, one foot on the deck, the other still in the living room. “You look a little… hot and bothered.”
I nodded, too shocked to speak. What had he seen? “But… I heard you snoring?” I said, instinctively covering my bare breasts as he inched closer, a cold green beer bottle in each large, masculine hand.
He shrugged. “I’ve been tossing and turning all night,” he confessed, looking edible in his standard sleepwear of thin, cotton boxers that, as always, left little to the imagination. “I finally gave up and came down for a glass of water when, lo-and-behold I find my little stepsister, well… like this…”
I blushed, watching him set the fresh beer down before sinking onto the pool deck to join it. He slid his feet, then ankles, then calves into the water, trilling them back and forth beneath the surface as if it was summer camp and he was sitting on a floating dock. “I didn’t… I thought I’d be alone.”
“I can leave,” he said, “but you looked pretty fucking hot.” Making no move to back up his claim. Instead he sat, swirling his big feet in the soft blue water, gazing at me shamelessly, his lips curled into that wicked, crooked smile.
“No, no,” I said too quickly, reaching for the beer he’d brought me. “I mean, who would bring me refills then?”
He chuckled, his belly flat above the waistband of his boxers, torso littered with exotic tattoos, nipples hard in the pre-dawn darkness. His eyes were luminous beneath the moonlight, his cheeks still scruffily sexy—even dangerous. He watched me linger, one arm still half-covering my bare breasts as my heart pounded. My insides throbbed with a delicious mix of confusion, frustration and even… anticipation .
“A little middle of the night skinny dipping, huh?” he mused, stating the obvious.
I shrugged. “It sounded refreshing,” I said between fresh sips of my new, cold beer.
“It looks it,” he said, his voice filled with something much more than curiosity.
“I’d tell you to come in and try it,” I sighed, resting my beer bottle next to his on the pool deck as I gazed up at him from the soft, trickling water. “But we both know how that ends…”
“Maybe not,” he mused, gradually, after a pregnant pause. “Maybe this time it… ends… differently, Heather.”
I arched one eyebrow, my belly quivering, and not just from the long, slow fingering session in the hot tub or the shock and awe of seeing Ryan and his bulging boxer shorts beside the pool.
“Is that so?” I chuckled, nervously, my heart hammering as blood rushed through my ears.
He nodded, polishing off his beer before setting it onto the deck and promptly lifted himself up with both hands and slid deftly into the pool. His body was trim and fit, his move so athletic, he barely caused a ripple as he slid into the water, bare torso glistening beneath the furious moonlight, his eyes alive as he began to wade closer to me.
“Uh huh,” I teased, wagging a wet, dripping finger and stopping him in his tracks. “This is called skinny dipping, Ryan, and you’re… severely… overdressed.”
He chuckled, and with a similarly deft movement, reached down to quickly tug his boxers off. He lifted them from the water, dripping from one long, thick finger, only to toss them next to my clothes near the shallow end.
Chapter Thirteen
“Fair enough?” he teased, inching closer as I admired the long, luxurious lines of his naked body. He was statuesque, to put it lightly, long, sculpted legs, a narrow waist, broad shoulders and a glorious, fat cock, nestled amidst a small but robust patch of brown pubic hair, glistening beneath the water’s rippling surface.
“Oh,” I murmured,
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