Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Lula

He’s even more perfect in real life.

At least, on the surface.

I’ve been looking at pictures of Vale since our parents married. His image is framed all over the house. Graduating from the naval academy, receiving commendations. The front page of last week’s New York Times has been laminated and magnetized to the refrigerator.

California SEAL Fires the Kill Shot Heard Around the World reads the headline.

Another picture is there, too. Vale in his starched uniform covered in medals, his jaw firm, eyes serious. Back at the airport, though, I got a glimpse of the man beneath the tough military man exterior. He didn’t like the attention and definitely wasn’t comfortable in the large gathering of people. I could almost feel the nerves running roughshod through his system.

What has this man been through? I can’t even imagine.

Every time I pictured our reunion with Vale at the airport, I saw him striding toward us confidently. Extending a hand to his father and slapping the older man on the back, making a jocular joke for the cameras. I never expected Vale to be stoic, limping, eyes tortured. Holding the bag over his shoulder in a white-knuckled grip. There is more to him than a granite-jawed hero—although he is definitely that, too.

I’ve never met someone in real life with so much presence.

So much outward strength.

In this town, he’s considered a god. The paragon of male perfection. Rife with muscle and power and intelligence. He jumps out of helicopters into foreign oceans, dismantles bombs, goes for days without sleep. He towered over everyone in the airport, his arms so thick with muscle they could barely be contained in his jacket. His blue eyes are riveting. Intense. His brown hair cut short, along with his trimmed beard. He’s polished to a shine, while on the inside, I can almost hear the broken pieces of him rattling around. I know it’s odd to hold my stepbrother’s hand, but I couldn’t help it. He needed someone to steady him. And he held it all the way home from the airport, connecting us across the backseat, those blue eyes fixed on me the entire drive.

Which leads me to my problem.

Letting out a breath, I close myself in my bedroom and lean my forehead against the door, willing the dewy heat plaguing my skin to subside. What is happening to me? Am I simply nervous from meeting Vale, a world-renowned hero? Or is it something else?

On the drive home, I turned wet between my legs.

Embarrassingly slippery.

Meanwhile, my mouth is dryer than desert sand.

I’ve read about female arousal. Of course I have. I’m going to school in the fall to study Eastern medicine. Meditation. Alternative therapy. I’m well-acquainted with how the human body should behave. I just never could have planned for my first ever sexual, feminine response to come courtesy of my stepbrother. Highly inconvenient.

You. Are. His. Stepsister.

Sure, he might have held my hand tightly, occasionally brushing his thumb over my knuckles. Sure, his gaze might have meandered down to my breasts on the ride home, remaining there long enough to create the damp sensation between my thighs. But he’s just a solider who has gone a long time without female companionship. It isn’t like we grew up together. Nor are we related by blood. Obviously, nothing can happen between us, but I don’t blame a man with that much masculinity for feeling lust over the female form.

Even if I’m surprised he feels it for me.

My mother has been talking for weeks about all of the women she’s going to introduce Vale to. All kinds of debutantes and daughters of their successful friends. And all of those women have one thing in common. They’re rail thin. Svelte. A very different body type than my own—and my mother loves to point that out. She always has. Clucking over my jean size or suggesting I go for more walks. Truth is, I do go for a lot of walks. I love being outside and I want to love my curvy figure. It’s just really hard to fully enjoy my extra padding when I’m constantly being told it’s a negative thing.

There’s a muffled click and I lift my eyes to the door that leads to our adjoining bathroom. Vale’s shadow moves underneath, followed by the running water of our shower. My pulse picks up at the image of Vale stepping beneath the spray, water coasting down over his thick pectorals, dampening the dog tags hanging between them. The soap suds traveling down in rivulets to his buttocks, so high and firm. And in front…

His sex would be waiting. Long. Thick. Neglected.

“Oh my God, would you stop?” I whisper, shaking myself.

The cops should come arrest me for having these thoughts about someone I’m related to by marriage. I can’t even imagine what my mother and stepfather would say. They are all about image. All about maintaining the perfect reputation of a four star general and his doting wife. She never makes a misstep. She would be mortified if she knew I was changing my panties right now because my stepbrother turns me on. How am I going to make it through the next three days without totally embarrassing myself?

At least I have that camping trip tomorrow.

A break from whatever is happening to me.

I finish tugging on the white bikini-style underwear and smooth my dress down over them, flopping down on my bed and looking around at my room. Speaking of my mother, she could not hate my vibe any more than she already does, so maybe there is no point in trying to keep her pleased with me? Just this morning she came in filing her nails and eye rolled the multi-colored hanging tapestries and strings of mini lanterns. But I love my space. I love the rich scent of incense and the invitation to stretch out in the cool darkness. And okay, I’m seriously trying to distract myself from the fact that Vale is fifteen yards away, naked, in the shower.

Although…he has been in there a long time.

That shower basin usually creaks, too. Under a man his size, it should definitely be making some noise, right? Is he okay in there?

When steam begins to curl out from beneath my door, I rise from the bed and cross to the bathroom, knocking tentatively, concern curling in my breast. “Vale?” I call. “Is everything all right in there?”

A long pause. Then a muffled, “Yeah.”

His tone of voice tells me he’s not fine.

“Do you need something? A towel?”

There’s no response this time.

My fingers tap on the door handle. Do I dare go inside? There’s a churning in my chest telling me there’s something wrong. After the haunted look I saw in his eyes at the airport, I’m even more worried. “You are studying mediation. The human body is a temple. Nothing more,” I whisper to myself, shifting side to side on my bare feet. “It’s just a body.”

I open the door and step into the steam, waiting for it to clear and yeah…

It’s not just a body.

Vale sits in the basin of the shower with his legs bent and raised, forearms resting on his knees, back pressed to the tile. He’s soaked and glorious and muscular in the extreme, wearing nothing but dog tags and a far-off expression on his face. Which is what prompts me to set aside my admiration of his form, allowing my concern to come rushing back in.

“Vale,” I say, opening the glass shower door and stepping inside, hesitating only a few seconds before kneeling down in front of him, staunchly keeping my eyes averted from the flesh between his legs. The warm shower spray rains down on top of me, soaking my dress instantly. “What’s wrong?”

He snaps out of his trance and shakes his head. “I’m fine. I just…” His throat works in a rough pattern. “Everything is so fucking quiet, you know? I’m not used to it. Where I’ve been for the last four years, quiet means something bad is about to happen. Logically, I know there’s nothing happening outside on the street. No tanks or landmines, but I can hear them in my head. It’s like I’m still there, Lula, but I have none of what I need to protect you.”

Before I register what’s happening, he wraps me in a bear hug and pulls me onto his lap, pushing my face into his wet, corded neck.

“I don’t want anything to happen to you, princess,” he rasps, stroking my hair.

Oh my God.

I knew Vale was tortured by the things he’d experienced, but I had no idea his trauma was so severe. Heat presses to the backs on my eyelids. There’s nothing I can do to stop myself from snuggling closer, wrapping around him and holding tight. I sense he needs it, needs the contact from another human being. Badly. “Nothing is going to happen to either of us.”

“Don’t say that, Lula.” He’s crushing me to his chest now, his mouth moving against my ear. “Those are famous last words.”

My heart lurches. How many friends and fellow soldiers has he lost? “Vale, you’re home now in California. Look at me.” I press my forehead to his, waiting for his blue eyes to meet mine, almost sobbing over the torture in them. “Focus on your breathing. Do you feel it in your stomach and chest?”

After a moment, he exhales, take a long pull of oxygen and nods. Just a subtle tip of his head. “Yeah.”

“Good.” On impulse, I slide my fingers into his hair and he groans, eyelids shuttering, pressing his scalp into my touch. His vulnerability is so real and honest, it packs such a punch, I can hardly catch my breath to continue. “In and out. Feel your abdomen expand. Focus on it. And we’re going to let that breath out into the rest of your body slowly. Let it wash into all of those places where you’re locked up.”

“God, Lula. I’ve needed your voice.” His parted mouth dips to my neck and he gathers me closer on his lap, like a man holding on to a lifeline. “Keep talking to me, sweet girl.”

I can’t pretend I don’t feel his erection growing underneath me. It’s quite huge and impossible to ignore. The hard flesh presses up against my panties, the material of them soaked from the shower spray still raining down upon us both. I’ve never been in any kind of sexual situation, but the impulse to rock myself on that bulge is fierce. Instinctive. Somehow, I manage to hold myself back, however. Vale is definitely not thinking clearly. God forbid we do something that he’ll regret when he’s back to his calmer self.

“O-okay,” I whisper, my fingers luxuriating in his hair, head tilting to the left so I can feel his breath more fully on my neck. I’m not a saint, apparently, and these things are too intoxicating to pass up. “Now become more aware of your body, Vale. Feel your arms and feet and shoulders. Come back into yourself, letting your breath expand into every region. Your body is the only world that matters right now, there’s nothing outside of it.”

My stepbrother turns his head, his lips dragging across my cheek to my mouth, hovering a breath away. Remaining there for several heavy breaths. “There’s you.” His lips graze mine, those blue eyes hot and intense, cutting through the dimness of the shower. “Your letters saved me. Now here you are, saving me again. My princess.”

“Vale.”

“I know. I know we can’t do this.” A low rumble takes place in his chest. “But God, I’d love to put you flat on your fucking back right now.” A muscle jumps in his cheek. “Make those titties jiggle for Daddy.”

I don’t know what happens to me.

One second I’m caught between burgeoning hunger and surprise that this flawless man wants me—and the next I’m being run over by release so potent, I can only sob and shake, my sex clenching madly inside my panties, his erection stiff and pulsing along with my climax, even though neither one of us dares to move and create friction. I’m having my first orgasm right on top of his rigid length—and he only had to say the right word to unlock me, make it happen.

Daddy. He said Daddy.

His eyes are bright with surprise and lust. “Goddamn, Lula. Is that your first?”

I drop my face into his neck and whimper, nodding. Shaking head to toe.

“Ahhh Jesus.” He rolls his hips beneath me and stars prick the backs of my eyelids. “Fuck it. Give me that mouth, princess. Give it over now.”

Is this really happening?

This famous, battle-hewn warrior is so desperate for me?

But he’s not merely a warrior right now, is he? At this very moment, in my arms, he’s Vale. He’s the lonely soldier I’ve been writing to. He’s a man who is facing a very different reality than the one he’s been living and it overwhelms him.

Maybe he only wants me because I’m convenient. Because I’m compassionate and he’s reeling. I don’t care, though. Not right now.

I only want to soothe him.

Be what he needs.

All it takes is a slight incline of my chin and his mouth is on mine, unruly and wet. His kiss is like being transported. My life is now divided into before my stepbrother’s mouth and after. It’s animal and desperate, lips twisting and taking, his hips lifting beneath me, his hands fisting in the sides of my dress. I’ve never been kissed before, but it wouldn’t have mattered if I had, because no one could compare. He’s male, unquestionably in command and yet somehow humble, groaning brokenly as he sinks his tongue into my mouth and rubs it erotically against mine.

“Lula, I can’t slow down. I’m sorry.” He surges forward, lifting me and dropping my back to the shower floor, his hands shoving up the hem of my dress and wrestling with my panties, jerking the sodden material down to my knees. Water from the above shower is dripping off the ends of his hair, the sharp blade of his shoulders. “Have to get my cock inside you—”

There’s a loud knock coming from somewhere.

We both go still, except for our sides which heave from exertion.

“Lula, dinner is on the table,” calls my mother’s voice. A few seconds pass, followed by another knock in a different location. “Dinner is served, Vale. I’m sure you’re starved for a home-cooked meal.”

Vale seems to come out of a trance, swallowing hard and throwing himself back against the tile wall. Dragging a shaky hand down his face. The shower spray is landing directly on me now, so I sit up and turn it off, trying to piece together what just happened. “Be right down, Mother,” I call back, hurriedly pulling my panties back on. “I-I…better go change,” I whisper, positive I’m blushing to the roots of my hair. “I know you didn’t mean for this to happen. I know it’s just been a long time since y-you’ve been touched. Probably. I don’t know. Maybe you just needed comfort. But I’m not going to make a big deal out of it.”

“Lula, it is a big deal. I’m your stepbrother. I’m older and know better. I’m…”

“Living under a microscope,” I finish for him. “I get it.”

And I also know he probably regrets getting caught up in the heat of the moment. I just happened to be here when he needed a distraction. When his male needs were—and still are—at a fever pitch. There’s no way I can let him think I’ve gotten the wrong idea. That he likes me. How humiliating would it be if he was forced to let me down easy? That has always been my greatest fear. That I would misread a guy’s interest and force him into telling me sorry, I’m just not his type. I’d rather be alone than have that happen. To find out my mother is right and my body is going to prevent me from living life to the fullest. From being happy.

“I’ll see you at dinner,” I say, scrambling to my feet and booking it out of the shower, thankfully without slipping.

“Lula,” he grits out, coming to his feet.

But I’m already closing the door and working my way out of the wet clothes, a pain in my chest forming when I realize that might be the first and last time I kiss Vale. It’s obvious that I formed an attachment to him through our letters and now meeting him in person? There’s a whole new dimension to the breathlessness he inspires in me. The sense of rightness.

There’s nothing I can do about it, though.

So I better just pull my head down out of the clouds.