Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 31021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 155(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 103(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 155(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 103(@300wpm)
“Is this your first time drinking?” he rumbles, right up against my ear.
“Besides the wine coolers that Santana steals from her mom’s fridge? Yes.” I wince. “I thought it sounded like something a cool adult of legal drinking age would order. But if this is what the cool kids drink, leave me out of it.”
His grin makes my stomach flip. “I’ll order you something different.”
“No rush,” I say, making him laugh, before a worry occurs to me. Leaning forward, I drop my voice to a whisper. “Hey Vale, could you get in trouble for bringing me here?”
He lets out a rush of breath. “Technically, yeah. I could.” A beat of silence passes. “Wouldn’t mind some trouble, though. Maybe everyone would stop…”
“Stop what?”
The muscles of his throat shift up and down. “Expecting so much of me. Putting me up on this pedestal, because of what I did. I never asked to be the face of an entire military branch and there’s just no way anyone can live up to the image. I love being a soldier. A lot of that love came from being anonymous, though. Now I’m this symbol of…I don’t know. Hope. And hope isn’t a bad thing, but it can’t come from a stranger.”
“No, it can’t. As a soldier, you want to make things right for the people. You want to do what the brass is asking of you, because you follow orders. But you’re only one person out of billions. All you have is the light in yourself. You’re allowed to guard it. You’re allowed to take healthy steps to keep the light burning.” I pick up his hand and thread our fingers together, using my thumb to rub slow circles into his palm. His pulse is tripping over itself in fast beats at the base of his wrist, so I lay my lips there and hum until it slows and Vale can take a deep breath. “And there’s no pressure here. Not right now. Focus on that.”
“God, Lula,” he crowds closer between my legs, whispering into my hair. “Look how good you are for me. No one can do what you do. You put me on solid ground.”
“Eventually you’ll learn to do this for yourself.”
“Maybe. Maybe I’ll learn to stop a panic attack before it starts, but knowing I have you on the other side is what’s ultimately going to bring me through it. You are my light, Lula.” His mouth traces over my temple, planting a kiss. “Let me be yours. Let me take you out of that house where you’re not being appreciated and make you happy.” He pulls me close, locking us together in a way that is indecent in public, his erection flush to my sex, my thighs hugging his hips, his hands creeping up the back of my skirt to massage my backside. “We’ll have a family together. Our first child might be forming in your belly as we speak.”
A fog bank of lust is beginning to roll in, obscuring my inhibitions. Blotting them out into mere smudges. And it has a lot to do with his tongue dragging up and down the side of my neck, his hips rocking me on the stool. Of course, I’ve considered the fact that I might be pregnant. It seems so unlikely. I’d never even had sex before yesterday. But I remember the feel of his hot seed flooding into me, that determination on his face, and I know it’s more than possible. “What are people going to say, Vale? You’re my stepbrother.”
“All you have is the light in yourself. You’re allowed to guard it. That’s what you told me, Lula, and that’s what I’m doing. I’m keeping you. Yesterday, I thought the most important thing in life was meeting expectations, but baby, all I want to do now is meet yours.” His mouth finds mine and he French kisses me in a blatantly sexual way, his tongue provoking mine in an erotic dance. It feels scandalous to be kissing my stepbrother like this in plain view of the bar, our bodies simulating sex. My panties are sodden against the ridge in his jeans and he continues to hump me, the legs of the stool bumping on the wooden floor of the bar. Finally, he stops moving, both of us breathing like we just finished a marathon. “All this talk of light, princess…” he says choppily. “But right now, I need to give you some attention in the dark. Can’t wait anymore.”
With that, Vale throws some money on the bar, picks me up off the stool to settle me on my feet and hustles me toward the front of the bar, favoring his injured leg. The crowd has multiplied since we arrived and Vale keeps a protective arm around me, the ball cap pulled extra low over his eyes.