Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Vale

My hands twist on the steering wheel, my gaze locked in on the back of Lula’s head. She’s riding in the car ahead of mine, halfway home from camping. It’s murder not having her in my passenger seat where I know she’ll be safe. The girl driving my precious stepsister is more concerned with changing the radio stations than the road ahead. Every time she swerves, I swear my heart is going to jump out through my mouth.

For the time being, I have no choice but to keep a distance.

Lula’s hesitance to be with me is my fault.

I knew. I fucking knew I shouldn’t have revealed myself at the waterfall.

Revealed myself as her stalker.

But the sight of her tasty body in the sunlight was too much to resist. There was no stopping me. I had to possess. Had to claim what’s mine.

And she will be mine.

There’s no maybe about it.

I have some work to do first, though, and I’ve had the night to think about it. Hours of sitting in the darkness, guarding my girl. Replaying over and over again the way her pussy clenched around my dick, her eyes losing focus, her teeth snapping at my mouth. All those sweet curves welcoming me home, her thighs struggling to get wider.

Hearing the way she sobbed for Daddy.

I exhale shakily into the car’s interior.

I’ve been trained to be patient. Sometimes it takes days, weeks or months for a target to appear. To step into my sites. But Lula isn’t a target and this isn’t war. She’s a female. The most important one. And her feelings are what I have to aim for. She thinks I need time. That I’m making a hasty decision to be with her, when that’s simply not the case.

Like I said, I’ve done and seen a lot in my lifetime. I know brightness like hers isn’t just available everywhere, especially for a weary soldier like me. It’s unique and perfect. Like walking through a sandstorm and finding shelter. During my service, I saw the worst of humanity. Enough to know when I’ve come across the best—and I’m holding on to her.

Come hell or high water.

But apparently she’s going to need…courting. Some convincing.

Since I can’t take her out on a date in a stolen vehicle, I ditch the car in the airport parking lot and rent a luxury sedan. My plan is to buy a permanent car at a dealership near Coronado when I’m getting settled on base. For now, a rental will have to suffice. My instinct is to find something black, but I think of Lula’s brightly colored energy, the lively pink and yellow fuzzy towels in the bathroom. Her aqua sandals on the shoe rack by the front door of the house. With that information, I go with a cerulean blue Jaguar and head toward the house.

When I walk into the kitchen, my father lowers his newspaper. “Well there you are, son. If I wasn’t positive you can take care of yourself, I would have been worried.”

Vanessa breezes into the kitchen with a clinking glass of iced tea in her hand. “I’m sure we can guess how a red-blooded man spent one of his first nights back on US soil…” She winks at me, stirring the drink with her index finger. “I’ll forgive you for not letting me fix you up. Maybe it’s better you went out and blew off a little steam first.”

“Always with the innuendo, Vanessa,” my father grouches, going back to the paper.

“You knew what you were getting into when we started dating,” she laughs.

Lula walks into the room and my senses are turned up to full wattage. I have to shove my hands into my pockets so I won’t reach for her, settle her butt somewhere, wedge myself between her thighs. Jesus, she looks edible. The camping trip has been showered away leaving behind tan lines that peek out from beneath the straps of her purple tank top. She’s barefoot, wearing these tight yoga pants that make her backside look like a meal and I have to grind my jaw to keep from growling.

Her eyes go soft when they see me, but then awareness moves into them.

Heat.

Curiosity, too.

As if she’s wondering whether or not my intentions have changed overnight. They haven’t. They’re never going to change. And I try to communicate that to her with my eyes. I must get at least some of my point across, because she crosses quickly to the fridge and stands in the cool opening, fanning her neck.

“How was camping?” Vanessa asks Lula, trading an eye roll with my father.

“Oh, um…” Lula’s throat works, her gaze drifting to mine briefly. “Beautiful. Peaceful. A family of deer walked right through our campsite this morning.”

“Wow,” Vanessa says, absently, reading the newspaper over her husband’s shoulder.

I wait for them to ask her more, but they don’t.

They don’t encourage her. Their mild interest isn’t even convincing.

Yeah, I need to get her moved out of his toxic environment as soon as possible. I grew up in it. The pressure to conform, to be a certain way—like my father—is immense. Having offbeat interests, like Lula, has made her a target for their disdain at the worst of times, indifference at the best. There is no way in hell I’m going to let them dim the light shining inside of her.

Not happening.

“I was thinking we could do something together tonight, Lula,” I say into the quiet kitchen, an even heavier silence ensuing. She straightens from the fridge, a glass of orange juice in her hand, eyes wide on me. “Get to know each other better. Since we’re family now.”

“O-oh,” she breathes. Then, comically, downs the entire glass of juice, because she obviously doesn’t know what to say. It takes an effort not to laugh. “I would like—”

“Are you sure, Vale?” Vanessa gives a skeptical laugh. “I have a network of beauties on speed dial—”

“Vanessa, I don’t know how many ways I can say that I’m not interested,” I growl, holding my stepmother’s startled attention for several beats, irritation making my fingers flex. “Do not bring it up again.”

I’m up against enough skepticism from Lula. I don’t need Vanessa making it any worse.

There is only one woman I’ll ever want. If it was up to me, I would tell our parents everything right now. But I’ve pushed Lula enough in the last twenty-four hours. Now it’s time to have a little patience while she gets used to the fact that I’m not going anywhere.

After a moment, Vanessa nods reluctantly, dropping heavily into one of the dining room chairs. My father watches me curiously, like he wants to say something but chooses to read the sports page instead. As for my stepsister, she bites her lip and leaves the room, subtly indicating I should follow after her. As if I’d do anything else.

We meet at the base of the staircase, her incense and orange juice scent making my mouth water, along with her plump tits. Hell, every inch of her makes me hot. How in God’s name am I going to wait until tonight?

I shoot a glance toward the kitchen to make sure we’re not being watched, then I lean down and kiss her mouth, sliding my tongue in to pet hers once, twice, my cock unfurling in my jeans, in dire need of Lula’s pussy.

She pulls away with a scandalized expression, but she’s breathing fast. “Vale,” she says in a furious whisper, looking over her shoulder. “You can’t just d-do that.”

“I could if we told them you’re mine. They will eventually have to get used to it.”

Lula hedges. “I’m…I’m still not sure—”

“You’re not sure I’m thinking straight. Or that I know what I want.” I tip her chin up, trace her lower lip with my thumb. “Don’t worry, I’m going to clear it right up for you, princess.”

After a moment, she nods and relief settles in my gut.

“I didn’t sleep last night, so I’m going up to grab some now.”

I press my thumb into her mouth, groaning when she sucks on it reflexively, seeming to surprise even herself. Her eyelids turn heavy, her nipples pebbling against the front of her tank top. It’s on the tip of my tongue to order her upstairs into my bed. I’d love to spend the whole day there, riding her in every position known to man, but I need patience. She’s an emotional soul. And didn’t she tell me she has to meditate on decisions? Rushing Lula could only hurt me in the long run and I refuse to take chances with someone so important.

“Be ready to leave at seven.” Reluctantly, I slide my thumb back out of her gorgeous mouth, using the wetness to coat her lips, leaving them glossy. “Wear the skimpiest pair of panties you own. Enough skirt to keep other men from seeing what’s between your legs—what’s mine—but not enough I can’t yank it up when I need to.”

When I speak her to like this, commanding her gently, Lula gets the same expression on her face she had in the woods. When she took off her clothes and let the sunshine warm her bare skin. It’s an expression of belonging, relief, anticipation. Being my little girl is right for her in the way it’s right for me. In the way she’s right for me.

Tonight I’m going to make sure she realizes it fully.

* * *

Lula walks down the stairs that night and tension ripples in the air.

Our parents might not realize there is something going on between us, but they aren’t entirely comfortable with us going out together, either. Maybe they sense the truth. Maybe they could feel my arousal all the way downstairs throughout the day. Sleep never hit me. Every time Lula’s bed springs creaked on the other side of the bathroom. Every time she murmured into her phone or laughed or breathed, I had to restrain myself from charging into her room, pinning her down, getting the release only she can provide.

Not too much longer and I’ll be alone with her again. Finally.

Next time I’m inside of her, I’ll have her promise. She’ll be confident in my intentions.

I’m dressed for a date in black jeans, boots and a button-down shirt, which throws our parents even more. But they’re extra thrown when Lula descends the stairs in a plaid skirt, a low-cut black shirt tucked into it. Knee high black socks.

I’m erect in seconds.

My fierce sudden arousal makes it necessary for me to turn from the room and adjust myself, back teeth grinding. Next time Lula tries to imply she’s not sexy, I’m going to throw her over my knee and paddle that delicious ass, so help me God.

“You look…” Fuckable. Hot. Like a little girl who’s horny for a second round of dick from her stepbrother. “You look very nice, Lula.”

“Thank you,” she says, turning pink beneath her camping tan.

“Where are you going?” Vanessa inquires, her smile slightly brittle. “When will you be back? Lula is only eighteen, you know. She might legally be an adult, but she still has a curfew.”

Lula giggles, but sobers when she realizes her mother is serious. “I do? Since when?”

“Since now.” My stepmother waves a hand, as if conjuring an appropriate time. “Midnight sounds good. Please be home by midnight.”

“She’ll be with a goddamn SEAL, Vanessa,” my father says with forced casualness. “No safer place to be, right?”

Is there a warning in his eyes?

It’s hard to tell. I might be projecting because my feelings for Lula are so wild and untamed and possessive, it seems unrealistic that I’m keeping them hidden. I’d like to tell Vanessa that I’ll keep my future wife out as long as I damn well please, but that could cause a scene, and right now? I just want to get Lula out the door.

Without a word, I gesture for my stepsister to precede me out of the house and down the front walkway. I watch wolfishly as her ass bounces in that schoolgirl-style pleated skirt. If no one was watching us right now, I’d wrap her hair in a fist and push her face down over my car, flipping up the rear of the skirt to inspect her panties. But we’re definitely being watched. A glance over my shoulder confirms our parents are eyeballing us from the porch.

“This is your car?” She clasps both hands under her chin. “I love the color.”

Pride moves in my belly. “Good. That’s what I was hoping for.”

I open the passenger side door for Lula, watching her thighs settle on the seat. Inhaling the scent of her. Itching to run my hands everywhere. Up her thighs to that round, generous ass. Down her tits to her soft belly. I’m not going to make it very long before the need to be inside of my stepsister—fucking her—overwhelms me.

Trying to even my breathing, I cross in front of the car and enter the driver’s side, firing up the engine before I’m fully seated. Before I pull away from the curb, my possessiveness gets the better of me and I reach over, sliding my right hand between her thighs and cupping her lush little cunt, waving at our parents with my left hand. “They don’t tell me when to bring you home. I decide that, don’t I, princess?”

“Yes,” she whispers, her head falling back against the seat. “You decide.”

I hook a finger in the thin strap of her panties and rub her clit with the pad of my middle digit, slowly, once, twice, eliciting a gasp. “Wave at our parents.”

She raises a hand and I press down on the gas, pulling into traffic.

I continue to stroke the little bud at the apex of her sex, making her hips writhe, until we reach a stoplight. Then I draw up the plaid material, adjusting the pretty blue material back into place over her pussy, giving it a final squeeze. “Going to bring this home dripping.”

A rush of sound leaves her. “Where are you taking me? A…hotel?”

Pulling through the intersection, I glance over at her in surprise. “If all I wanted from you was sex, Lula, I’d have been in your bedroom all afternoon.”

“I was kind of hoping…”—she fidgets with the hem of her skirt—“…you would visit.”

I cock an eyebrow over her obvious nerves. “Why is it so hard for you to admit that?”

She searches for the right words. “I don’t have a lot of experience flirting. I’ve always had this nightmare about guys…rejecting my interest, I guess?”

I’m torn between shock and jealousy over the fact that she’s ever wanted to flirt with another male in the first place. “You must have grown up with a lot of idiots.”

“Yeah…” She bites her lips and smiles a little. “Yeah, I think maybe you’re right.”

That’s when I notice there’s something different about Lula. I noticed it when she came down the stairs but was too horny to put my finger on the change. Now I know. It’s confidence. She’s wearing a short skirt, her eyes are bright, her smile coming easier. Those tanned shoulders are thrown back. Is it possible I broke through to her yesterday beneath the waterfall? Did her friends’ encouragement help?

Is she starting to realize what a fucking catch she is?

God, I hope so.

With hope rising in my chest, I reach over and hold her hand, guiding us on to the highway. “If I remember correctly, there’s a bar about half an hour up the coast. Live music.” I bring her hand to my mouth, rubbing my lips over her knuckles. “I don’t care who sees us together, but I figured you might want some privacy for now. There shouldn’t be anyone who knows us there. Knows…how we’re related.”

Lula nods. “For now, I think that’s best.” Her nose wrinkles. “But won’t people know who you are, no matter where we go?”

I jerk my head toward the console where I left a black baseball cap earlier. “Brought a hat. Plus, it’s nice and dark inside this place. And that’s a damn good thing, princess…” My gaze roams over her lavish set of tits, the blood in my body rushing south to my groin. “Because there isn’t a hope in hell of keeping my hands off you.”