Read Pistol: A Stepbrother Romance Online
Authors: Autumn Gunn
Pistol: A Stepbrother Romance
PISTOL
A Stepbrother Romance
Autumn Gunn
Copyright © Autumn Gunn
All rights reserved.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher, except in case of critical articles or reviews who may quote brief passages to be published in a magazine, newspaper, online or other media.
If you have not purchased this book from Amazon you are reading a pirated book.
The author acknowledges the trademarked status of products referred to in this book and acknowledges that trademarks have been used without permission.
This book contains mature content, including graphic sex. Please do not continue reading if you are under the age of 18 or if this type of content is disturbing to you.
NOTE: All characters in the book are 18+ years of age, non-blood related, and all sexual acts are consensual.
Dedication
This book is dedicated to the American soldier. When their country calls, they go. Willingly.
They take our place on the battlefield. Everything at risk.
Stay safe.
Thank you.
We love you.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
I wanted to fuck her the first second as I saw her. That curvy little body was built for speed. More dangerous curves than a mountain pass on my Yamaha YZF-R1 superbike. Those epic tits were spilling out of her snug pink tank top. Her dark hair well down her back. She was sipping on a freshly squeezed lemonade. Those pouty lips were made for sucking my dick.
She was sitting with some guy. I could see he had a tight grip around her wrist. He was talking to her angrily.
The light turned green. I u-turned my bike in the intersection and rolled up right in the parking spot next to her sidewalk table.
I got off my bike and walked right up to them. Removed my helmet as I approached.
"Leave her alone."
She looked up from her book. It looked like some sort of math textbook.
The guy sitting next to her said, "Fuck off. Mind your own business."
"This is my business."
He pushed his chair back.
"Don't do it."
"Don't do what?"
"Stand up."
Too late.
He took a swing. A haymaker. A wild haymaker. Of course. They always do that. It must have missed me by four full inches. His momentum carried him through. I grabbed him by the back of the neck with my right hand and the back of his reddish designer jeans with my left.
Throwing a man is much easier when you have a little momentum. I rocked him back on his heels about an inch then brought him back forward my way. Carried through like the backswing at a bowling alley.
It's a sure fire move. They land face down in a totally venerable position. The humiliation is enough. The Superman position they naturally assume during the short flight just adds insult to injury.
"What the hell was that for?"
I stared right into his eyes as he lifted himself up off the concrete. When he got to his feet he slowly backed away and walked in the other direction.
"You okay?"
Up close she was somehow even sexier.
"I'm fine."
"I have time to take you for a ride."
Her head was tilted slightly to one side. Her neck exposed to me. She looked me in the eye. She was calm. It was like she was either trying to read me, break my confidence, or decide.
Girls can read me easily. I don't give a fuck. 100% of the time. I do what I want. On my terms. They eat it up.
Break my confidence? A guy in reddish hipster pants. Sure. Me? Please. Next question.
Decide? She was deciding.
"What makes you think I want to go for a ride?"
"You're doing math. It's 1:17 in the afternoon on the first warm day of May."
Two barbie doll blondes were sitting at the table next to her. They had seen the whole thing.
"We want to go for a ride!" The more platinum of the two said.
I didn't break eye contact with the brunette.
"You only have one helmet."
"You can borrow mine."
"What about you?"
"You don't need a helmut in Colorado if you're over 17."
"I want you to have one. It doesn't look safe."
"Sitting in a coffee shop on a warm spring isn't always safe. Just depends on who you're with"
She paused.
I lived for adrenaline rushes. Motorcycle racing. Base jumping. Black diamond snowboarding. Pure speed. If it went fast, I wanted in.
The Marine Corps was a natural choice. Travel to new and exciting countries and blow up stuff. Cause havoc. In and out. Stealth speed and destruction. At least that's what a 17 year old testosterone fill boy though.
My mom was thrilled to sign the parental consent form for the Delayed Entry Program. Finally I'd get some discipline. I'd be surrounded by positive male role models.
Exactly one month after my 18th birthday and I'd be gone. Out of here. On to the yellow footprints of Marine Corps Recruit Depot San Diego. I wanted to be special ops. All or nothing.
My all or nothing right now was her. Math homework girl. I had three days until I was off to Recruit Training.
"OK. But you have to drive safely. Only a quick ride. And I hold your driver's license. Just in case you try something."
"Deal. Hop on."
She put her books into her backpack. Double tied her shoelaces. Put on my helmet.
I handed her my license. We were off.
I knew a beautiful mountain pass just outside of town. I had taken a lot of other girls there before. It blew them away. About as close to a guaranteed lay as you can get.
For some reason I didn't want to go there. This girl was different. I could tell. She was making demands of me. Standing up for herself. Carefully optimistic, but realistic.
I wanted to do something unique. Out of the ordinary. There could only be one place. Deer Creek.
We picked up W. Deer Creek Canyon road less than a mile south of C-470 on Denver's southwest side. We headed west about six miles onto Deer Creek Road before becoming Pleasant Park Road.
Math homework girl didn't say anything. I could see in my mirrors that she was taking in the view. Steep rocky valleys below and huge rock walls above.
I went slow through the tight turns. I had to. I promised to be safe. Plus it allowed her to take in the fresh mountain air and take in the engulfing views with the helmut visor up.
These curvy roads were smooth and perfectly paved. We came out of one turn and I felt her lean slightly to my right side.
"It's really curvy. The view is beautiful. It smells so good."
"Just like you."
She leaned back to her original position. I looked in my mirrors. I could see her holding a smile.
Higher up on Pleasant Park Road we stopped to take in a distant view of the Rockies.
We sat down on a big rock. I took the granola bar out of my riding jacket and offered it to her.
"Thank you. Do you want some?"
"No thanks."
She broke off a piece and placed it in her palm. A family of squirrels hurried over. Stopping just short of a possible meal. They looked at her then didn't hesitate. The mother squirrel reached into her hand and took the piece of granola bar. She scurried about six inches back to her small children and distributed the meal. She quickly came back for seconds. Then thirds. Eventually the entire bar was gone. The squirrels made some sort of thank you noise and took off back into the hills. We broke the peaceful silence with a laugh.