Cocked: A Stepbrother Romance (48 page)

She blushed, exactly what I was going for.

“Don’t say that so loud, someone might hear.”

I looked around and saw an old woman pushing a cart, a young mom with her two kids, and a single guy all standing nearby.

“I doubt any of them care. I wouldn’t mind telling them how good you taste.”

“Colin!”

“What? Maybe they’d be interested in that fucking sexy little noise you make when my big dick pushes into you.”

“Oh, my god, cut it out. I’m going to leave.”

“Why, going to have to take care of yourself?”

She laughed and hit my arm as we continued on through the store.

It felt weird, being with her like that. I had fucked plenty of girls in my past, been with more than a few mob sluts and groupies, but I had never felt so comfortable with a woman before. Truthfully, I had never gone grocery shopping with any of them, let alone let myself get lost in any of their bodies for days at a time. Despite all the fluids I had exchanged with all the random girls, the most intimate thing I had ever done with a woman was walk through a grocery store and do nothing but talk and laugh.

There was still some stupid macho part of me that thought I should at least get a hand job in the parking lot for putting up with something so domestic, but I was honestly having a good time. It wasn’t just the sex, though the sex was hunger-inducing and incredible. I couldn’t get enough of her full tits and curvy hips. It was also the jokes we told and the simple fact of being around each other.

I knew what that meant. I’d known it for a while. But I was having trouble admitting it to myself.

Old habits died hard.

We checked out up front and I helped the cashier bag. We had gotten way too much stuff, probably enough for two weeks, but I told Bren that it was better safe than sorry. Who knew how long we were going to be staying in that house? And I sure as hell didn’t want to have to leave the bedroom again if I didn’t have to.

We packed the stuff into the car and headed back home, Bren chatting idly about her friends from college. I half listened, nodding when I was supposed to nod, but really I was already planning on what I wanted to do to her as soon as the groceries were in the front door.

Probably tear a hole right in her yoga pants. Just enough to slip my cock into her. Take her right there in the foyer without another word. Maybe even have her swallow my hot cum again. I could feel my cock begin to stiffen at the mere thought of shooting my heavy load into her pretty mouth. She was fucking incredible.

We pulled down the long dirt road heading toward the farmhouse, and as we approached the house I suddenly slammed on the brakes fifty feet from the usual parking spot.

Bren looked at me in alarm.

“What’s up?”

I nodded at the house. “Look at the front door.”

She squinted for a second then gasped.

Up ahead, the front door was standing slightly ajar, and I was willing to bet that I would see the splintered wood from where it had been pried open.

“Did we do that?” she asked.

“No. I wouldn’t leave the door like that.”

She was quiet for a second. “Does that mean—?”

I reached over her, opened the glove box, and pulled out my gun. She blinked at it as I checked the clip, pulled back the slide to put a bullet in the chamber, and flicked off the safety. I patted my pocket where my knife was resting comfortably, hooked to the fabric and ready to be pulled out in seconds.

“What’s happening?” she said, panic clear on her face.

I looked at her. “Get in the driver’s seat, turn the car around, and head away from here.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going inside.”

“Colin—“

“No, listen to me,” I interrupted her. “If Fabrizio is here, I’m ending this right now. You need to get somewhere far from here so that I won’t be distracted by keeping you safe. Got it?”

She nodded. “But what if something happens?”

I laughed. “Believe me. This guy is nothing. If he’s in there, I’ll take care of him.”

I pushed open my door and climbed out. Bren shuffled over the gearshift and sat down in the front seat. She rolled down the window.

“Colin, be careful.”

“I will be. Don’t worry. Just keep driving until I call you.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

I gave her one last look, taking in her beautiful features. “It’ll be fine.”

She looked like she wanted to say something. “Colin, I—”

“Just get going.”

Before she could say whatever she was about to say, the words I had been secretly afraid and hoping for, I moved fast away from the car and stepped into the tree line.

––––––––

I
moved as quietly as I could through the forest. I heard the car turn around and head back down the dirt road, toward safety. I lingered for a second, made sure she really was leaving, and then headed faster toward the house.

Going in the front was probably suicide. Fabrizio was likely waiting in there to ambush me. But he probably didn’t know about the back door that was meant for staff, and I would use that to my advantage. I kept to the shadows in the woods along the house’s outer perimeter, keeping it in sight but staying far enough back that Fabrizio wouldn’t get lucky and spot me.

And I knew it was Fabrizio in there. It all made sense, everything. Somebody was feeding him information, and it was only a matter of time before he showed up at the farmhouse. The problem was, there were only three people in the entire Mob that knew about where we were, and two of those people were me and O’Brian.

The other was Davin.

I made my way to the back of the house and slipped up quietly to the edge of the woods. I watched for a minute, trying to spot any movement in the windows in the back, but couldn’t see a thing. After another minute, I decided that it was now or never, and so I moved at a sprint, keeping as low as possible, up the back lawn.

Nothing happened. Nobody yelled, nobody shot at me. I made it to the back door and pressed myself against the back wall, breathing heavily. I stayed like that for another minute, listening and watching. The house was eerily still.

I moved up along the wall and stopped at the plain service entrance. I typed in a series of numbers on the control panel and heard a soft click as the door unlocked. Gun held level and ready, I pushed it open.

The room was empty. I moved in quickly, closing the door and locking it behind me. I walked past laundry machines and closets full of cleaning supplies and found the back staircase that led up to the main floor. The house had been built on a slope, so the back door led into the basement and the front door led into the ground level, something I was sure Fabrizio hadn’t realized.

I crept up the stairs, holding my gun out. I heard nothing as I pushed open the door softly, making absolutely no sound. My heart was hammering in my chest, but I felt clearer and more in control than I ever had before. It was the same feeling I always got when I went on dangerous jobs. For some reason, the adrenaline and the danger brought out the best in me, and I thrived on it. I lived for the feeling of terror and imminent violence, almost as much as I lived for fucking. Only an orgasm could beat the feeling of defeating another man in a fair fight.

And I wanted nothing more than to beat Fabrizio.

I moved into the open first floor, staying crouched and close to the wall. I kept my breathing even and my gun out as I moved slowly toward the front door. I turned down the hallway and saw it standing ajar up ahead. Like I had predicted, there were splinters all over the ground where somebody had either kicked it or pried it open. The door wasn’t blast proof like the one at O’Brian’s townhouse in the city, but it was a sturdy thing. Fabrizio must have worked pretty fucking hard to get it open.

The hall up ahead opened into the large entrance foyer. I crept forward as softly as possible, ready for anything. I took a deep breath to steady myself. I was guessing he was just ahead, probably crouching near the stairs. Anticipating that, I stepped out from the hall.

Instead of being by the stairs, he was pressed flat against the wall, inches away from me. He came at me fast. With his free hand, he slapped the hand that held my gun down and away from him, and fired his own weapon. I reacted fast, but not fast enough, as I felt the bullet bite into my left shoulder. I brought my right hand up and fired back at him, missing as he ducked to one side.

I didn’t have time to think. We were in a point-blank firefight. I leapt after him, tackling him to the ground. I heard his gun go off two more times, but the shots fired uselessly behind me as I speared him down against the floor. My gun hand smashed onto the hard wood and I felt myself lose my grip and the weapon go spinning away.

I reared back as he held his pistol up at me. I smacked it away as another shot rang out and I grabbed his wrist. He hit me in the gut and the kidneys, but I twisted and wrenched his wrist. He screamed out in pain as I moved the bones in a way they weren’t meant to move, and he released his grip on the gun. It bounced twice, landing a few feet away.

I turned back toward him as he punched me in the gut again, turning his body and pushing me off of him. He scrambled for the gun, but I was on my feet and kicking it away before he could reach it. His face was a mask of anger and disbelief.

He turned on me, his fists up. He punched at me twice and I dodged back, out of his reach. He came at me, muscles tense and moving quickly, and I could feel pain lancing up my shoulder as warm blood slid from the wound. I put it out of my mind as he punched high and aimed a kick low. I blocked the punch and ate the kick.

Pain lanced through my shin as I counterattacked. I punched him once in the mouth and he blocked my second punch, trying to get a grip on my wrist. I twisted my arm, pulling him close. I could smell his aftershave, our arms intertwined and struggling for control. There was no doubt that it was Fabrizio. I would have recognized him from anywhere. I grinned and reared back my head.

His eyes went wide as I smashed my forehead into his nose. Pain jumped through my skull, but I did it again, and again, and again. I heard a crunch on the second shot and blood flowed freely from his broken nose. He released his grip and stumbled backward.

I didn’t give him time to collect himself. I came at him low and hard like a boxer, throwing him punishing gut shots. That made him drop his arms, and I stepped in for a vicious right hook. He stumbled backwards, and then fell.

I was on him in a second, my knife in my hand. I flicked open the blade and held it against his throat. His eyes were wide with terror and he held his hands up on either side of his head.

“You motherfucker, Fabrizio,” I growled.

He smiled. “Colin Blake.”

“You shouldn’t have come here.”

We were both bloodied and breathing heavy. My shoulder was aching like crazy.

“Where the fuck is she?” he asked.

“She’s nowhere near here.”

He spit blood, missing my face but hitting my chest. I pressed the knife even harder, drawing a thin bead of red along his skin.

“Do that again,” I said, “and I’ll cut your throat right here.”

He laughed. “You can’t kill me. You won’t start a war with my family.”

“You think your family has your back right now, after all this shit?”

I could see the moment of doubt in his eyes, and I knew I had him. I wasn’t about to tell him that he was absolutely right, that I shouldn’t kill him if I could avoid it. But it was better if he thought that I was on the verge of taking his life at any moment.

I adjusted my weight and stood up, hauling him up with me. I kept my knife inches from his throat.

“Walk,” I said. We marched into the kitchen. On the way, I crouched down and grabbed my gun, training it on him before he could make a move.

“In,” I said, motioning to the kitchen. He obeyed. I nodded at a chair and he sat.

I sat down in a chair inches away from him. I leaned forward on my knees, gun held level at his chest.

“Now we’re going to have a chat.”

“I have nothing to say to you, fucking dirty Irish. Go get my wife.”

“She isn’t yours anymore, or don’t you get that?”

“She married me. She’s mine until one of us is dead.”

I cocked back the hammer on my gun.

“I can make that happen.”

He blinked. “Fine, okay. What do you want to know?”

“First thing’s first. Why chase her?”

He laughed. “You don’t get it, do you? She married me. That means she’s mine. I couldn’t just let her get away. I would rather die than let people think I’m weak.”

I nodded. That confirmed it, for me at least. Fabrizio wasn’t working for the Italians or motivated by anything more than sheer insanity. I had wondered if maybe whoever was behind Fabrizio might be trying to start some kind of coup in order to take over the Mob, but Fabrizio didn’t know anything about that if it were true. He was probably just a stupid pawn in the whole thing.

“Next question. And this is the important one. If you lie to me, or refuse to answer, I’m going to start cutting.” I held up my knife.

He shrugged and looked away.

“Who told you about this place?”

He laughed. “I can’t tell you that.”

“Wrong answer.”

Before he could react, I grabbed his face and ran my knife down his right cheek. He screamed and tried to push me away, but the damage was already done. I sat back down as he touched his bleeding face.

“That’ll be one nice scar,” I said.

“You fucking psycho.”

“I told you what would happen if you refuse to answer.”

“Jesus, my fucking face.”

“Lie again, and I cut off part of your ear.”

“Okay, fuck. Davin, your fucking guy. Davin was feeding me information the whole time.”

There was a creak by the doorway.

“Davin?”

I looked up, surprised by the voice. I stared at Brenna standing nearby, her face a mask of outrage.

I stood up. “You shouldn’t be here, Bren.”

“Ah, there she is. My wife. You look perfect.”

I hit Fabrizio in the face with the butt of my gun. It probably knocked a tooth loose.