Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Lula

After dinner, I go upstairs to brush my teeth and put on a pair of fuzzy socks—a required movie viewing accessory, since it’s cold in the den—and when I come back down, everyone has already taken their spots. My mother is curled up on the love seat with her mini poodles, Tamsen and Boo Boo. My stepfather is reclined in his easy chair, frowning down at the remote controls. And Vale is on the couch, watching me beneath hooded eyelids.

The only available spot in the room is beside him.

Truthfully, there is no other place I would rather sit. I’m just so confused by what’s happening between me and my stepbrother, the idea of two hours beside him turns my stomach into a trampoline for nerves. After what happened in the shower earlier, I thought I had the situation figured out. Vale is lonely and starved for affection after being away so long. In such perilous circumstances.

I’m still pretty sure that’s the case. I’m just convenient.

A warm body to slake the urges of a big, testosterone-laden warrior.

But the way he stood up for me at the dinner table, the protectiveness he displayed for me when he found out about camping…it doesn’t add up. Is it possible there is more happening here than meets the eye?

Swallowing hard, I cross the floor of the den and sit down on the couch to Vale’s right.

He’s leaned back, one elbow resting on the arm of the couch, his magnificently thick and corded thighs spread in the pose of a man who can and does handle hard situations. After his shower, he changed into sweatpants and it’s an effort not to look there. At the apex of his thighs where there is a clear outline of his manhood, fat and definitely not contained by underwear. Oh yeah. My stepbrother is one hundred percent free-balling it.

Vale runs his tongue along the inside of his lower lip when he catches me staring. I notice the flesh in his sweatpants rise quickly, pushing at the seam, bigger than I could have imagined. He mouths a curse and grabs a blanket from the back of the sofa, throwing it over his lap and hiding the evidence of his arousal. And we both stare straight ahead at the television, both of us breathing faster than before.

As the movie begins—a comedy about a dog and its scatterbrained owners—I begin to wish I’d worn pants. The simple act of sitting this close to Vale and knowing he has an erection is making my sex warm and achy. Wet. So wet that my panties are sodden by the time the first scene is over. A hot shiver passes through me. And another.

“Lula,” my mother calls from across the room. “You’re freezing. Share some of that blanket with Vale.”

“I’m fine,” I say quickly. Too quickly.

Vale grunts, lifts the edge of the blanket, his eyes almost black when they meet mine. “I see you shivering. Come here, Lula.”

If I protest now, it’s going to be weird. My resistance might even draw attention to the fact that I’m attracted to Vale, thus wary of getting too close, and that’s the last thing I want to do. “Um…okay. Thanks.” I slide closer to him on the couch, my tummy flipping over when our hips meet. The outsides of our thighs press together, softness to ample muscle.

Vale leans over and tucks half of the blanket around me, his brow furrowed in deep concentration. As if he takes my warmth very seriously. “That better, princess?” he whispers, right against my ear. And all I can do is nod vigorously, training my eyes on the television, praying I won’t have another spontaneous orgasm like I did in the shower. When I climaxed after barely being provoked. It’s him. This man. He has a crazy effect on me, and I don’t seem to have much control over it.

My nipples are stiff, my inner thighs buzzing with sensitivity. Every part of me that connects with Vale is rejoicing happily, wanting to snuggle and luxuriate in his power and masculinity, but I force myself to remain stock still.

At least until, beneath the blanket, Vale hooks his pinkie finger around mine.

Smooth and slow. Clutching possessively.

My clitoris throbs in response.

Head to toe, I’m sensitive. I’m physically aware of every single movement my stepbrother makes from the scratching of his eyebrow to the slow lift of his hips—and of course I see it. His bulging shaft beneath the blanket. He lowers his hips again afterward, but I know it’s there, mere inches from my left hand—which he is holding now.

I’m holding hands with my stepbrother, his thumb brushing side to side on the small of my wrist. He can almost definitely feel my racing pulse there. There’s no hiding it.

To our right, my stepfather begins to snore in the recliner, head tipped back against the cushion. My mother laughs at the sound and hits a few buttons on her phone, lowering the lights in the den even more. To almost pitch black, except for the flickering television screen. “To help him sleep,” she explains in a conspiratorial whisper, going back to petting the dogs. She’s on her third glass of wine, though, her own head beginning to nod on the pillows.

A few minutes later and she’s unconscious, too.

With both of our parents sleeping, the awareness between me and Vale is multiplied tenfold. He squeezes my hand and lets it go, but I’m not given a second to mourn his touch, because he slides that arm around my shoulders, tugging me more securely up against his side.

“You’ll be warmer this way,” he says, lips grazing my temple. “I’m sorry about dinner. My father being dismissive of the career you want.”

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry about,” I whisper back. “You stood up for me. It was…nice. Someone having my back. Thank you.”

“No one should have to stand up for you. Not in your own house.” His upper lip curls. “I’ll make sure to put an end to that before I leave for Coronado.” The reminder that Vale is only here on a temporary basis makes my throat feel clogged. That reaction must be showing on my face, because he frowns, leaning down to roll our foreheads together. “Ah, princess…”

Our mouths open and release a breath, bathing each other’s lips in warmth, preparing to launch into a kiss that neither one of us can prevent, but there’s an eruption of snoring from my stepfather. Vale and I put a few inches of distance in between our mouths as the man shifts in the recliner, turning slightly away from us and resuming his nap once again.

I study Vale’s chiseled face in the flicker of the television, feeling closer to him than I ever have with anyone. I felt that way the moment he walked out into the open at the airport, the emotion only increasing with every passing hour. Every exchange of knowing eye contact. I’m eager to know more about this man. What other chance will I have if he’s leaving soon?

“I was surprised when your father said you used to be quiet and introverted,” I breathe for his ears alone, barely checking the urge to touch his chest beneath the blanket. “I mean, you came across thoughtful in your letters. But the media has portrayed you as kind of…”

“A confident man’s man with the perfect answer for every question?” He chuckles quietly, but the sound holds no humor. “The press has given me this persona to make everyone comfortable with celebrating the kill. I’ve been coached by the Navy on how to respond. No one wants to hear it was a low-down and nasty business. They want to think it was something like they might see in a movie. Now the hero just has to look pretty and wave for the cameras.”

My heart gives a long tug. “How are you feeling on the inside?”

He blows out a breath. “Isolated. Displaced.” That muscular arm tightens around me, pulling me closer, his brow knit in thought. “I don’t feel that way right now, Lula. With you.”

Pleasure washes over me, warm and potent. I can’t let the confession go to my head, however. He’s been on US soil for a matter of hours and I’m the only person who is willing to show him some comfort. Even among his own family and friends. At least, that’s what I seem to be telling myself so I don’t get far-fetched ideas in my head about this hunky, heroic man developing an interest in me. “What about the other men on your team?”

A line hops in his cheek and he looks down at his lap. “They’re good guys. The best. We were closer before all of this happened, though. I’m getting credit for something that was a joint effort. They say they’re fine with it, that they don’t want the notoriety, but it’s hard to stay happy for someone when the president is thanking them in a speech without a single mention of anyone else. And now that I’m injured and my identity has been leaked…”

“There’s was just no time to make any of it right,” I finish for him in a whisper. “I’m sure that’s unsettling. Not even having that foundation of your friends.”

He gives me a dazzling half-smile, his white teeth flashing in the darkness. “Are you sure meditation is your jam and not psychology?”

I bite my lip to contain a laugh. “I’ve always been great at recognizing issues in other people and knowing how to correct them. But when it comes to my own, it’s a different story.”

A wrinkle of concern forms between his brows. “Anyone would have issues growing up in this house, but I don’t like knowing you have them. Talk to me.”

I’ve always tried to minimize my problems. It’s just a knee-jerk reaction. Logically, I know they are just as valid as anyone else’s. But when I start to talk about them out loud, I find myself rushing through the details and saying it’s fine it’s fine it’s fine a lot. “Nothing, really…”

He tips my chin up and gives me a stern look. “Lula...”

God, he is so handsome. No wonder good-looking people always seem to be in positions of power. Telling them no when they want something is extra hard. Not to mention, his worry is genuine. I can feel it radiating from him in waves.

“Well, our parents have everything figured out, at least on the surface. They always have a plan and a goal, whether it’s organizing a charity or rallying people around a political cause. And they seem kind of bewildered that I need to think and meditate before making most decisions. It’s not just my career choice they think is frivolous and silly…it’s me.” I struggle through a swallow. “I’m an outsider in my own house.” Somehow I find the courage to echo his earlier words. “I don’t feel that way right now, Vale. With you.”

I’ve just seriously put myself out there by admitting that. It’s so unlike me to take risks, especially with the opposite sex. But Vale doesn’t give me a chance to dangle on the line or feel self-conscious. No. He dips his mouth to mine and takes a long, slow pull of my lips. “To think my original plan was to go directly to Coronado from the airport. What if I’d missed out on you, princess?” In one smooth move, he lifts the blanket and drags me onto his lap. Effortlessly. I’m facing the television, my bottom wedged tightly against that bulge, the bare backs of my thighs resting on his clothed legs. My feet aren’t even close to touching the ground.

We’re in a room with our parents and I’m sitting on his lap.

If they woke up, there would be no mistaking what’s happening or explaining it away.

Especially when Vale winds my hair in a fist and gently tugs, bringing my back flush to his broad chest, his heart pounding against my spine, his breath feathering my neck. “There is nothing frivolous or silly about you. The way you help reach below someone’s surface just makes them uncomfortable, because they’re afraid what they’d find under their own.”

Emotion makes the tip of my nose sting momentarily. “Thank you.”

“I’m only telling the truth, Lula.” He exhales roughly, shifting his hips, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin beneath my ear. “You’re a fucking treasure. Don’t ever doubt it. Okay?”

“Okay,” I breathe, my nipples puckering painfully, my nerve endings waking up and dancing like they’ve been dormant, waiting for this man to arrive and touch me.

“You do have one serious problem, though,” Vale says in a gruff voice beside my ear, his chest rising and falling heavily underneath me. “And we need to discuss it.”

“I-I do? We…do?”

He unwinds my hair from his fist, trailing that hand over my shoulder, collarbone and down to my breasts. Kneading the left one once through my dress, before sliding his hand down the front of my bodice, dipping those long fingers into my bra and fondling me, skin to skin. “I’ve only been here half a day, Lula, and I can see…you’ve been parenting yourself. Isn’t that right?” He unsnaps the front of my bra, groaning deeply in his throat when my breasts tumble free into his waiting hands. “They live in their own world, don’t they? Letting you disappear into crowds at the airport. Camping. You’re not getting the attention you need. Or the protection.”

There is so much truth to what he’s saying.

Of course, I’m able to camp and handle myself in public alone.

But. There’s no denying that I do feel like I’m fending for myself all the time.

There’s no denying how isolated I am in my own home. Isolated just like Vale.

My stepbrother lifts his head briefly, his lips leaving my neck as he glances around the room, making sure we’re not being watched. He pulls the blanket over the top of us more securely, covering us from neck to feet. When he’s finished with the task, his hand doesn’t return to my breasts, though.

No, it cups my knee, squeezing. Slowly. Then his fingertips climb beneath the hem of my dress, traveling higher, higher up my inner thigh. Knowing instinctively where he’s heading, I bite my lip and squirm a little in Vale’s lap, earning a “shhh” from his gorgeous mouth.

When he’s halfway to the juncture of my thighs, he seems to lose patience and grips my sex roughly, his breath releasing in a rush. I have to throw my head back against his shoulder and concentrate on holding back my climax. The very act of him touching me there is enough to blow my hormones sky high. His hand is warm and strong and possessive, his palm perfectly curved to my mons, his fingertips digging into the giving flesh of my femininity. “I mean what I say, Lula. You need more attention. Better care. My father obviously isn’t qualified to parent you way you need.” He begins to massage me gently, teasing the flesh inside my underwear. “This pussy needs a Daddy, doesn’t it, princess?”

A seismic ripple passes through me, my thighs jerking closed around his hand, and it’s everything I can do to keep from panting in the too quiet, too crowded den. I never would have expected my body to react to that sentiment so eagerly. But it does. I do want this capable man to care for me. I want to soak up his attention like a sponge that has been left out and forgotten too long. I’ve never had a strong male support figure in my life. Not one that made me feel safe. Not one that took an interest in me.

Even if Vale’s presence in the house is only temporary, I can’t help but gravitate toward it. Wanting to hear more. Wanting to live inside this feeling of being cherished and secure.

This pussy needs a Daddy, doesn’t it, princess?

“Yes,” I finally answer, as quiet as a mouse.

I might as well have shouted it based on his reaction. He groans long and guttural into my shoulder, his shaft growing impossibly large beneath me, pressing up into the split of my bottom. Unfettered now, I open my thighs back up and rub against him, waiting in breathless anticipation to find out what his touch will do to me next.

I don’t have long to wait to find out.

Those thick fingers slip into my panties, delving into the ample wetness, parting my folds with a slow, purposeful stroke. “Fuck. That is sweet.” His middle finger drags up and back in the valley of my flesh, making me whimper. “Actually thought I could leave in three days without a backward glance, but that’s not going to happen, is it? This needs to be guarded at all costs. Needs to be raised right. That’s what I’m here for now, Lula, you get me?”

There is no way to process the meaning behind what he’s telling me—or if he means something more serious than my brain can currently grasp—I’m too caught up in the maelstrom of sensation. The winding up of storm clouds in my tummy. Especially when the pad of his middle finger grazes my clit for the first time, then moves faster and faster on the small, sensitive bud, shooting lust and urgency straight down to my toes.

“Never been a Daddy before, but I was yours the second I stepped off the plane, wasn’t I? You knew it. And so did this pretty virgin cunt.” He pushes his middle finger inside my drenched entrance, both of us gasping, the sound of damp flesh barely drowned out by the sound of the movie. “And what does that make you, my too-tight princess?”

The answer is somehow obvious. “L-little girl. Your little girl.”

How do I know this? No idea. It’s instinctive. Like slipping on a new, second layer of skin that is infinitely more comfortable than the first.

“That’s right,” he rasps into my neck, his hips starting to roll beneath me. Quickly. Desperately. “They want to slack off on parenting duties? Fine. I’m stepping in. I’m the one who gives permission and advice and buys your clothes now. Vale is Daddy. Say you understand.”

We’re getting too loud. Our breathing is out of control, the rasp of our clothing seems magnified in my ears. I can hear every slick stroke of his fingers through my sopping wet flesh. So I nod, instead of answering, tipping my head back so he can see the affirmation in my eyes. And whatever he sees in my expression riles him up, brings his mouth down on mine, kissing me over my shoulder. Now I’m being ridden in his lap, his middle finger pumping in and out of my previously untouched channel, his tongue sweeping into my mouth with ownership.

My orgasm sinks its teeth into me, and I whimper into the kiss, struggling through the tumult of sensations, my butt grinding down into his lap, my womanhood clenching and pulsating around his finger. Oh God. Oh God. This is far more intense than the release he gave me upstairs in the shower, because I’m being pumped full—and because he’s coming, too, this time. I’m still at the apex of my climax when Vale twists to the right and throws me face down on the couch, his hips jackhammering mine through my panties and his sweatpants. The springs of the couch creak underneath us and the blanket has been discarded on the floor. If our parents opened their eyes right now, they would see my stepbrother on top of me, humping me violently on the couch—and I still don’t think we’d be able to stop.

“Do you have any idea how fucking hot this lush, round ass makes me? Those big, juicy tits? Jesus Christ.” He thrusts against me even harder, his fingers burying in my hair, twisting the strands. “You were built for me. Built to get it rough. Built to take Daddy’s pounding.”

My mouth is open in pleasure, in sensual overload on the couch cushions. A moan works its way up my throat, but I turn my head at the last second to bury the sound. And that’s when my panties are yanked down, great, glopping wetness striping across my cheeks. My stepbrother’s spend lands audibly in the still, dark room, his strangled groans muffled in my neck, big, huge body jerking and jerking, over and over again on top of me until his release runs down the split of my bottom, all the way to my sated sex, mixing with the proof of my own pleasure. Only then does Vale collapse on top of me.

Almost instantaneously, there’s a shift across the room, my mother changing positions on the couch. With a frustrated curse, Vale eases off me and adjusts his sweatpants, wiping me clean with a sweep of his T-shirt and tugging my panties back up into place quickly. We’re in the process of sitting up, both of us still catching our breath, when my mother yawns loudly.

“Oh my goodness, don’t tell me I fell asleep just like your father.”

Neither Vale nor I have the wherewithal to answer. I can barely think straight, let alone speak. I just hooked up with my stepbrother. On the couch. Mere feet from our parents.

Was it a one-time thing?

It didn’t sound like it. It sounded like Vale was claiming me…permanently.

But it’s hard to trust that when I’ve been conditioned to be insecure. What if he was just saying words in the heat of the moment? Santana and Jess are always complaining about guys who make promises in the dark but ghost them the next morning. Is it fair to hold Vale to anything he said to me? Maybe things will be clearer in the night of day?

Again, my mother yawns. “Lula, you’re leaving early for camping, right? Maybe you should head upstairs and get a good night’s sleep.”

A muscle flexes in Vale’s cheek and I get the distinct impression his willpower is the only thing keeping him from pinning me down again. His blue gaze is fastened on my mouth, even more intense than I’ve seen it since he arrived. Those big fists are bunched on his thighs, that upper lip on the verge of peeling back. What does his demeanor mean? Does he want to touch me again or—even more likely—is he annoyed at himself for getting carried away?

With a hard pinch in my chest, I get to my feet unsteadily. “You’re right, Mother. They’re going to be here early and I haven’t even packed.” Briefly, I meet Vale’s glittering eyes. “Good night.”

I go upstairs to my room and close the door, listening for Vale to follow—and he does, a few minutes later. His footsteps move in a pattern on the other side of our adjoined bathroom, giving me the impression that he’s pacing.

If he’s worried about my holding him to his promises, he doesn’t have to. I won’t.

A lump slides up and down in my throat when I swallow.

I’ll go camping in the morning and give him some space, maybe a chance to…go out. See other people besides me. After all, I’m the only woman he’s had any contact with.

You’re convenient.

Right before I go to bed, I turn the lock on my main bedroom door, as well as the bathroom bolt. I’m not sure why I do it. Maybe as a way to maintain the little pride I have if Vale, in fact, feels he made a mistake. It takes me a while to fall asleep, but I do eventually, intense blue eyes haunting my dreams.