Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Lula

Vale brings me to a bar called The Coyote.

I don’t have a fake ID, but the bouncer takes one look at Vale and doesn’t question him leading me inside. He was right about it being dark in here. Comfortably so. There are flickering hurricane candleholders on every table, lit in a pale yellow glow. A cover band plays at the back of the expansive space, the sound of a harmonica pleasing to the ear. On the left, there is a scattering of tables occupied by couples and groups of friends. To the right is a long bar and that’s where Vale brings me, all the way to the corner where he positions me against the wall, blocking me in with his big body.

It takes me a moment to realize he’s pinning every customer at the bar with a steely glare. “Vale.” Laughing, I tug his elbow. “What are you doing?”

“Letting them know you’re mine. That you’re leaving with the same man you walked in with.” Out of sight, he settles a hand on my bottom, shaping it roughly. And after a moment, his intense blue eyes find mine through the low lighting. “Never felt like this, Lula. I’m worried what I’ll do if someone looks at you. Mine.”

I play with the middle button of his shirt, surprised how easily I’m flirting with Vale. I wasn’t lying when I told him I’ve rarely flirted in the past, but now…now I’m not worried he’ll be uncomfortable with my intentions. He’s made it clear he’s attracted to me. That he finds me desirable. And I’m starting to feel that way. I never would have worn this outfit before yesterday, but I love the way it makes me feel. Feminine and sexy and a little naughty. As if being out at a bar, illegally, with my stepbrother isn’t more than enough naughtiness for one night. “How about you look only at me, Vale, then you won’t know what anyone else is doing?” I bite my lip and twist the button of his shirt. “And it won’t even matter.”

His breath releases in a rocky rush. “Fuck, you were tempting before, but now…Lula, you’re blossoming. You’re going to bring me to my knees.”

I can hear Santana and Jess in the back of my mind, cheering me on. “Maybe you’ll bring me to my knees,” I murmur, heat racing up my cheeks. Who am I anymore?

“Lula,” he moans, dropping his forehead to mine. “Don’t do this to me. Don’t hint that you might suck my cock when I promised myself I’d give you a proper date.”

“Okay,” I say, breathlessly, my confidence growing at an exponential rate, excitement filling my tummy with fizzy bubbles. “I guess I’ll just think about it,” I say teasingly, dragging a finger down the thick slope of his muscular chest, continuing downward, scratching my nails against his belly button. “How it’ll taste. How deep I can take—”

His mouth cuts me off with a growl and I’m backed into the wall, his fingers burrowing into my hair, his tongue licking deeply, past my teeth, stroking, stroking, stroking. He curls a hand under my left knee and jerks up my legs, notching his hardness flush to my sex, rocking roughly, his hard exhale bathing my wet, swollen moth. I’m up on my tiptoes and he lifts me higher now, off the ground. Are we going to have sex in this dark bar? It certainly feels like it—and knowing I made this powerful man lose control is a heady feeling. Exhilarating.

“Can I, uh…” A man to my right clears his throat. “Get you two a drink?”

We break apart, breathing hard. Vale looks almost delirious, and for some reason, I cannot keep the smile off my face. Look what I can do! Unfortunately, my smile also seems to harden Vale’s resolve. He plants a solid kiss on my forehead and throws a nod at the bartender. “I’ll have a beer. Whatever pilsner is on tap. And she’ll have…”

“A dirty martini, please,” I say brightly.

When the bartender walks away to fix our drinks, Vale lunges at me, growling into my neck, and a laugh bursts out of me. “I’ll give you a dirty martini.”

He tickles my ribs and I squeal. “I wish you would.”

“Lula. I’m hanging by a thread.” Suddenly, he picks up me up by the waist and drops me into a stool. I’m still reeling from the utter delight of being manhandled with such ease when my stepbrother hits me with a stern look. “Behave.”

“For now?”

His lips twitch with mirth, and my God, he’s so mind-bogglingly hot with that baseball cap pulled low on his forehead and dark blond hair sticking out at the sides, I have to sigh.

“For now,” he agrees, kissing me softly. With promise.

A few minutes later, the bartender drops off our drinks. Vale stands between my thighs, his left hand resting on my hip, his back to the rest of the bar. He hands me my drink with a skeptical light in his eye. A second later, I found out why. I sip the mixture of vodka and pickle juice, immediately wanting to spit it out. Vale chuckles, taking back the martini and setting it on the bar. Then he tips his beer to my lips to get rid of the after taste.

“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.

“Oh my God. Is that Vale Butler?” someone says as we pass.

My stepbrother’s muscles tense against me. “That’s him. That’s the terrorist killer. Holy shit.” Some murmurings go through the crowd. “Vale! Yo, Butler! Let us buy you a drink.”

A hand claps him on the shoulder. “You’re a hero, man.”

Vale curses and slows us to a stop. “Lula…”

“I know. You can’t just walk away and ignore them.” I squeeze his hand and give him a smile. “And I know it bothers you, having to maintain this hero image in front of people who don’t really understand what you’ve been through. But here’s the thing. While you smile and be kind and let them take pictures, your thoughts and your feelings remain your own. They can’t touch them. It’s okay.”

An intense expression transforms his face. “I’m going to marry you.”

Before I can answer, he drapes a protective arm across my shoulders and turns to face his admirers. He waves like the humble solider he is, blinking against the sudden onslaught of cell phone flashes. “Evening, folks. I’ll pass on that drink. I’m bringing my girl home for the night. But if anyone wants a picture…?”

I don’t expect it when Vale keeps me glued to his side in every last one of them, his fingertips brushing up and down my arm. Occasionally, he leans over and kisses the crown of my head or my lips while everyone watches with growing interest. And with my heart in my throat, I realize the cat is most definitely out of the bag…and Vale ripped it wide open on purpose.

Maybe I should be nervous about the fallout to come.

Maybe I should be calling my mother to warn her.

I don’t, though. I can’t break the spell Vale is weaving over me, stealing my fears and worries with every glance, every whispered word of affection. He’s making me believe this relationship between us is real and lasting.

It is.

My heart is pounding with that knowledge.

Deep down, I’ve known it since our eyes met for the first time. We’re supposed to be together. A connection runs between us that can’t be undone or subdued. I need him and he needs me. By the time he finishes taking pictures and signing autographs, he’s touched and kissed me dozens of times, propelling my awareness to new heights. The knowledge that our relationship will probably be public by morning makes my core thrum with heavy heat.

Everyone will know he’s been inside of me.

The act of claiming me publicly has turned on my stepbrother as well.

Even more than before.

We don’t even make it to the car.