Under Siege Read online
Page 5
“What do you think the problem is?” I set the monitor down on the step and grasped the wrench. Instead of letting go, he tugged me to him, his wide, hard chest smudged black with oil and grit from the engine.
“You’re dirty!”
“Mmm.” He nuzzled at my neck. “Pardon me, Mrs. Ford. Thought you liked me dirty?”
I was about to reply when Ash’s lips closed over mine, swallowing my smart reply and sending stars bursting behind my eyes all in the same breath.
That was Ash, forever stealing my breaths.
“How’re my boys?” Ash grunted, hoisting me around his hips and pressing me against the hood of the truck.
“They just went down for naps,” I murmured, my fingers already curling into my husband’s hair.
“Good.” He nipped my bottom lip as one hand traveled south, between my thighs, sliding the pad of one thumb under the hem of my dress and against my bare pussy.
“Glad to see you without panties, Peaches.” He worked his fingers against my slit, arousal surging through me and soaking my thighs.
“Always,” I answered shamelessly.
“Have you every day, and yet it seems like every time I need you a little more.” He pushed his zipper down and pressed his cock against my entrance. My chest heaved with aroused breaths, my hips arching as every heartbeat vibrated through my pussy.
“Hurry,” I breathed, always conscious of the little nine-month- and three-year-old boys never more than a few rooms away from us.
“Not hurrying with you, beautiful. Taking my time right here.” He pushed his cock deep, pressing my body up the cool metal of the hood as we found a rhythm, frantic and feral.
My skin tingled with anticipation as an orgasm burned just at the edge of my body. Ash’s hands pushed up my torso, fisting my breasts and sucking on my nipples until they were achy and bruised.
“Can’t get enough of this body, Peaches. It was made just for me.” He angled deeper, sliding against my inner walls and running his finger up the crease of my bottom, somewhere only he’d ever been. “Those screams—” he covered my mouth in a kiss “—are mine.” He fucked me harder, more frantically, hands working against my skin and leaving marks of where he’d been.
His marks on me.
Just how I liked it.
“This pussy comes when I call because it was made for me.” His hand slid between us and fingered the bud of my clit, working me to the edge of abandon before throwing me over, headfirst and whirling. My lungs collapsed and my vision darkened, the thick scent of his body and engine oil filling my nostrils as he continued to work against me, winding me up higher than I ever thought I could go.
Just when I thought I might climb out of my skin, Ash pulled his thick cock out of me, fisting it at the root, sliding his hand upward, and coming in long jets over my abdomen.
His sex-slicked hands worked my pussy, sliding against the nub of my clit and pinching softly, eliciting a moan. “It’s too much.”
He chuckled softly, dick softening between us but still thick and impressive.
Just the sight of it made my mouth water, and if I hadn’t just been fucked senseless, I would have dropped to my knees and taken him into my mouth.
“I think Momma and Daddy need a nap,” he breathed against my neck, sending shivers cascading down my spine.
“That sounds heavenly.”
“Your wish is my command, beautiful.” Ash scooped me into his arms, carrying me up the stairs and straight into our plush master bedroom. He tucked me into the covers, sliding his hands up and down my body and nestling his nose in the hair at my neck.
“Love you so much it hurts.”
“Love you back, Ash.” I breathed in his delicious, all-man scent, letting the comfort and warmth curl around me before closing my eyes.
He sealed my lips with his kiss. “Sleep well, Peaches.”
THE END
As a giant THANK YOU to my readers, I’m including one of my personal favorites, Stepbrother Anonymous, in the back of Under Siege. Happy Reading + Happy Holidays! xo Aria
S T E P B R O T H E R
A N O N Y M O U S
ARIA COLE
STEPBROTHER ANONYMOUS
Copyright © 2017 by Aria Cole
Model: Tyler Halligan
Photographer: Wander Aguiar
Cover Design: Sybil at PopKitty Design
Editing: Silently Correcting Your Grammar
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage.
Love is for suckers.
That's always been Hudson Farrow's take on it. His mother has practically made a career out of saying I do, which is why he's found himself in another upstate town, preparing to watch her walk down the aisle with another yacht club asshole, nursing his cynicism with scotch at another lonely dive bar. A sassy siren that sets his blood on fire wasn't part of the plan, neither was a new stepsister, and now Hudson's a man with a problem because he's just found out they're one in the same.
Skylar Walsh never thought the one and only man she's ever brought home would turn into anything beyond a few orgasms. Until six-foot-four, sinfully sexy, talented and tattooed sweeps her off her feet—and right between his thighs—on his custom Harley. When Hudson demands her phone number before the night even begins she knows she's in for a wild ride. When she runs into him at her father's wedding the next day, she realizes she may have just made the biggest mistake of her life. A dozen sheet-clenching, toe-curling, and soul-shatteringly good mistakes in the last twenty-four hours.
Warning: Hudson is hell-bent on his Sky, and he won't let a little thing like I do come between them. Filthy-sweet tattooed hearts, perfectly placed piercings that hit all the right spots, and love and fate inked so deep no force can keep them apart--hold onto your hearts because Stepbrother Anonymous stole mine! xo Aria
One
Hudson
“Two fingers of top-shelf Scotch,” I murmured at the bartender, anxious for the dark liquid to quiet my head. He poured a few ounces, sliding the glass across the bar with a nod. I tipped the glass of amber amnesia to my lips, the booze easing a little more of the tension out of my shoulders. My neck. Fuck, I’d been wound tight in the weeks before I even had to make this trip.
I finished the glass, setting it back on the bar and nodding to the bartender. Another upstate asshole—why did my mother always find herself around these types of people?
I swear, sometimes she tried to find herself by marrying someone new. This was her fourth wedding, not that I was judging, but she’d picked some real losers before.
I’d had my fair share of shitty stepdads, so when she’d called a few months ago and told me she was getting married—again—I’d shoved it to the back of my mind.
If I could have avoided this wedding, I sure as hell would have.
But she was my mother, despite all the dysfunction, and I wasn’t the kind of man to leave my own mother flapping in the wind.
Thankfully, she and the new beau weren’t going traditional with a wedding party—I’d been forced to step into a monkey suit at the age of fifteen when she’d married the last one, and I’d fucking hated every minute.
She was lucky I was here; that was about all the enthusiasm I could muster.
The bartender replenished my whiskey, nodding at me before tapping on the wooden bar to my left, a grin crossing his face that could only be reserved for a woman. A good-looking one.
I knew men, and I knew there must be one helluva piece standing next to me.
I took a sip of my drink, glancing out of the corner of my eye to find a woman next to me, waves of auburn hair falling around her shoulders and eyes so big and wide I nearly swallowed my own tongue.
“I’ll have whatever he’s having.” She gestured to the glass in my hand.
A smile spread over my cheeks. “You sure about that? This’ll create a fire in your belly.�
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“Bring it, then.” Her eyes darted up to mine, leveling on me and ripping all the sense from my mind. Ice-blue oceans swirled back at me. I was sure I’d never seen eyes quite that color.
“Woman who handles her liquor, I’m intrigued.” I took another sip, enjoying the way her eyes hovered on my lips with each of my words.
“You’d be surprised what I can handle.” The bartender deposited her drink on the bar top. “Cheers to a good weekend.”
I clinked my glass with hers then watched as she took a healthy swallow. My eyebrows rose and my grin deepened.
This woman had fire, and hell if I wasn’t drawn to her flame.
“I’m going to need another one.” She set the glass on the bar when she’d finished.
“Well, hell, remind me not to go underestimating you again.”
“Again?” She cocked her head to the side, a pretty, sarcastic as hell grin darting across her lips. When she did that, I couldn’t help wanting to cover her mouth with mine, lick up the dips and swells of her body, and make her scream and shudder around me. My dick twitched in my pants, demanding to be let loose and cradled in her warmth. “What makes you think you’ll get a chance at again?”
Sweet fucking Jesus, she had sass. Sassy women were the sexiest to me. There was something about this woman; something that made me want to bend her over and spank that fine ass until she begged me to stop by shoving my rock-hard cock deep into her wet, warm cunt. Just the very idea of that made me feverish.
I’d begun to think I should find myself a nice quiet little thing. Maybe opposites really did attract, and I was barking up the wrong tree when a girl like this one flashed her big, beautiful eyes at me. But damned if I could help it. I was having a visceral reaction just standing so close to her.
“Won’t be the last if I have anything to say about it.”
“You don’t.” She smiled up at me sweetly, winking once before taking another swallow of her newly refreshed drink. Hell, was I looking at the female version of myself? I didn’t know if I should be turned on or run the hell away, but she was intriguing, and no way was I walking away from someone intriguing this weekend. I’d need all the distraction I could get before heading back to the city and my life and putting this marriage business behind me.
I wished the best for my mom, but she’d sort of ruined the idea of commitment for me.
Never could bring myself to say those three words, though I didn’t sweat it. My life was good. What was the point of giving your heart away to someone who inevitably would only break it? My mother was proof enough. I’d seen her in broken relationships time and time again. I didn’t want any part of it. People weren’t built to last, and true love was a mirage the media distorted in order to sell you more junk you didn’t need.
But I had a feeling things would get a little bit better if I got to know this woman.
“Name’s Hudson.”
Her grin deepened, sky-blue eyes sparkling up at me. “Skylar Walsh.”
“Can I get you another drink, Skylar?”
She paused, eyes narrowing adorably before she replied, “Why? Because I'm the nearest thing with boobs?”
Her candid words took me by surprise and forced a chuckle from me. “Because you're the only woman who’s made me care enough to ask her name in a long time, Skylar.” I pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Figure that counts for something.”
Her pupils darkened, lips pressed together before she turned back to the bartender and nodded at him for another. “Smooth talker, then, huh?”
“Call it what you want, but I say what’s on my mind.”
“I can see that.” She took a small sip of her drink then set it back on the bar, turning fully to me.
I’d been so focused on her eyes that I hadn’t even bothered to check out the rest of her, and the rest of her was fucking sinful.
She was the curviest, most beautiful creature I’d ever seen, and living in a city overrun with trendy singles, I’d seen a lot.
None that had caught me off guard quite like this, though.
“What’s on your mind, Hudson?”
I inched closer, brushing her shoulder with mine and sucking in a deep breath of her heady aroma. “I’m thinkin’ the drive up this weekend was damn well worth it, after all.”
Her lips popped open in surprise, warmth creeping up her neck and making me desperate to touch her searing hot skin. Was she as aroused as I was? Did she feel this push and pull careening between us?
“Well, what can we do to make your trip worthwhile, Hudson?” The soft lilt of her tone told me she knew exactly what effect she had on me.
“I can think of a few things,” I breathed, taking advantage of the low light and sliding in a little closer. I was drawn to her like a magnet, our bodies hovering just at the edge of contact, close enough to drive us both a little insane. Skylar closed her eyes, a soft shiver racing through her body when my fingers darted across the sweet flesh of her thigh. “I bet you taste sweet.”
Her eyes fluttered closed, long lashes shadowing her high cheekbones. For the first time in my life, I couldn’t think of anything but the gorgeous woman standing in front of me, her body attuned to mine. I had to know her. Something told me I was flirting with forever with this one. I couldn't put my finger on why, but I sure as hell felt it. Like our souls were already chained together, just waiting for the bodies to catch up.
I wanted tonight with her, but I wanted all the other nights too. I wanted to figure out what made her laugh, what made her mad, what turned her on. I really wanted that last part.
“I’m not sure if your unfiltered mouth pisses me off or turns me on.” She arched one eyebrow, leaning in a little closer.
“My bet’s on the latter with the way your thighs shift and your nipples are aching under that dress.”
Her lips curved up then as she leaned a little closer, the generous swell of her gorgeous tits brushing the rock-hard slab of my chest. “Wouldn't you like to know.”
Sweet mother of God, I was a goner with this one.
Two
Skylar
Three hours after I walked into the bar, I was walking out of it, my arm linked with the sexiest, most infuriating human I’d ever met. The drop-dead gorgeous and cocky sonuvabitch had latched on, and I was surprised that I didn’t want him to let go.
Dating wasn’t my thing. Growly, irritating macho men weren’t my thing either, but this guy was both and all at once, so why the hell did my stomach turn flips every time a word came out of his mouth?
“Hop on.” Hudson held his hand out, the other on the handle of a glossy black Harley-Davidson. As if the dark tattoos licking his forearms and the gauge in one ear weren’t enough, this guy riding a motorcycle cemented every ounce of his bad boy persona.
“You’ve got a bike?”
“Rode it hard all the way up here.” His eyes sparked as he watched me. Something spiraled up in my belly, arousal and need coursing through my veins and leaving me at the mercy of his every whim.
“I’ve never been on a motorcycle before.” I grasped his hand with mine.
“Not just any motorcycle, princess. A Harley—best of the best. You can feel the power between your thighs.”
“Sounds sexy.”
“Unbelievably sexy,” he agreed, eyes crisscrossing my body before landing on my gaze again. “Climb on.”
Excitement unfurled inside me, his touch like lightning bolts shooting along my nerves and gathering at the juncture of my thighs. “Am I safe with you?”
His grin slid sideways, eyes holding mine for unwavering beats, silence pulsing between us. “You’ll never be safer than you are with me, Sky, that I can promise you.” One hand cupped my neck, drawing me to him. “I’d lose a limb before I’d let anything happen to you.”
His words bloomed slowly in my heart, filling up all the dark corners and making me believe in him. Truly believe. A guy who looked like that wasn’t one you should believe, but here I was—a lamb
blindly going to my slaughter.
I’d always considered myself good at reading people, and while this guy was a little hard to decipher in some respects, the possessive aura radiated off of him. There wasn’t a bone in his body that could hurt another human being; I could feel it as much as I could see it.
“YOLO, I guess.” I slung one leg over the machine with his help, surprised when he followed me on, his hard body coming to press against my back.
“I thought you were driving?” I teased.
“I am.” His rough hands latched on to my waist and spun me in the seat, tucking my knees between his powerful thighs and the leather of the seat. His hands cupped my face, eyes focused on the soft part of my lips as I wondered what to say, what he wanted from me, what tomorrow would look like. I’d told myself earlier it was okay if this was just a one-night stand. I’d never had one, and the chaos that had been my life of late could really use a release.
But in reality, the idea of this guy walking away tomorrow morning filleted me open a little bit. I would never be a clinger—I had a career, a life, a home I loved—but something about him told me this was more. Told me that if he walked away, it would leave me shattered.
Would the pleasure be worth it? If the way he was looking at me was any indication, like he wanted to eat me alive, then I had a feeling it one thousand percent would be.
“I need to taste you first.” His lips crashed to mine, not gentle—frantic. Like he’d been starved for this moment.