Chapter One
Vale
I step onto American soil for the first time in four years.
The lights of the airport are bright, but they’re nothing compared to the flashes that go off around me. Camerapeople wielding digital Nikons and pushing microphones into my face. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. The media was never supposed to find out my identity, but an intelligence leak means my face has been all over the news.
I’m the Navy SEAL who killed the world’s most wanted terrorist.
Civilians are cheering for me as I pass, calling me a hero. In my head, I know I did the right thing. Saved countless lives by taking a madman’s. But the last four years is a blur of blood and explosions and near drownings. The kill they are cheering for was just a split second buried under a mile-high pile of harrowing shit. And I don’t want the credit or the accolades or applause. I just want to get somewhere quiet and finally take a deep breath.
Is that going to be possible?
On the fight back to California, I kept waiting for the relief to kick in. I’m no longer going to be active duty, thanks to a fistful of shrapnel buried in my calf, courtesy of the very same terrorist I took down in a firefight. There will be no more live battles for me. I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t miss it. The heat of the fight is in my blood now. But I was looking forward to letting my guard down for one fucking second—and it’s not happening.
Even in this sterile airport, the adrenaline is surging in my veins.
I’m searching the crowd for a sniper, my palms itching for the gun in my bag.
The smiles on people’s faces seem distorted. False. Their voices ring in my ears.
Somewhere above me, "The Star-Spangled Banner” begins to blare from a speaker and everyone sings along as I pass, taking pictures of me with their cell phones. The reporters shout questions over the din. How does it feel to be a hero? What will you do now?
As if I just won the Super Bowl, instead of taking a human life.
They don’t understand.
They’ve never been there.
I feel like a fish out of fucking water, gasping for air, just trying to get out.
Get to my family.
Up ahead, I finally see my father, but instead of relaxing, I straighten my back automatically, harden my jaw. My limp is pronounced, thanks to my injured right leg, but I do my best to walk normally. No weaknesses have ever been allowed in front of the man. When I reach him, I hold my hand out for a shake, not a hug.
“Welcome home, son,” my father booms, his chest puffed out. “I knew you’d return a hero just like your old man. Well done.”
I nod once, transferring my attention to the woman beside him. “Ma’am.” I take her hand and shake it gently, the bones as fragile as the rest of her seems to be. I’m worried if I grip too hard, I’ll break them. There is nothing fragile where I’ve been. “You must be Vanessa, my new stepmother.”
“That’s me,” she beams, smoothing her hair when a cameraperson sidles close for a better shot. “We’re so glad to have you home.” Vanessa looks around, a frown creeping between her arched brows. “Now where did Lula disappear to?”
Lula.
My stepsister.
At the mere mention of her name, my muscles lose some of their tension. Out of everyone back home, I’m most interested in seeing her. Meeting the girl for the first time in person. She’s been writing to me since our parents got married a year ago and those letters…some nights they were the only thing keeping me sane. Tethering me to the real world.
I scan the teeming crowd for a young girl, beginning to worry again. All these people. Is it safe for a young girl to be alone in a sea of people like this?
“Oh, there she is. Lula!” Vanessa reaches behind a pillar—
And pulls a female out into the open who is definitely not a girl.
This is Lula?
No. No, it can’t be.
I’ve been picturing some gawky high schooler in braces. This is a woman.
Young, yeah. But her body leaves no doubt to her maturity.
Unlike when I shook my stepmother’s hand, I wouldn’t be afraid of breaking Lula. No. She’s a curvy little beauty with hips I could grip, juicy breasts that would spill over in my hands. A plump, beautiful ass that would cushion a rough ride.
Oh my God. Why the hell am I thinking of my stepsister like this?
Every ounce of blood in my body has rushed south at the sight of her, turning my cock stiff and achy in my briefs. God, those wide green eyes of hers are pretty, too, surrounded by thick lashes. I almost choke on my tongue thinking of the welcome home I’d like from that feminine mouth. How soft and pliant her lips would be around my dick, all that reddish brown hair tangled around my fingers.
These are not the thoughts of a hero.
These are not even the thoughts of a decent human being.
Everyone in this airport has placed me on a pedestal and it’s up to me to remain there. All my life, I’m going to be the man who killed the world’s most hated man. I’m a representative of the Navy. The son of a general. I cannot be lusting after my stepsister. It would be wrong even if I was a regular old Joe, but I’m not.
I’m Vale Butler, a decorated Navy SEAL.
I’m going to be a commander at the naval base, training recruits.
There is no room for slip-ups.
But lord, she radiates comfort. The same brand of sweet care her letters gave me.
Those lavish lips spread into a smile, eyes sparkling like emeralds, and she springs forward to hug me. Fuck. I almost groan the word out loud as her curves mold to my strength, her gorgeous body plastering to mine, soft on hard. She smells lightly of incense and I inhale greedily, closing my arms around her. Holding on tight.
And all of the noise around me disappears, leaving only Lula.
There’s only the sound of her breathing against my throat, her heart rapping against my abdomen, on account of our height difference. She’s the lighthouse in a storm. I’ve already been holding her an inappropriate amount of time, especially for a stepsister I’ve never met before, but I can’t seem to pry my arms from around her.
“Welcome home, Vale,” she murmurs, the husky notes of her voices hardening my shaft even more, pressing it to her belly. But when she looks up at me, I can see she has no idea I’m erect. No idea that this instantaneous attraction is burning me alive. That I’d like to drag her into the nearest available room and work out this raw lust in a frenzy.
On top of being my stepsister, she must be a virgin.
Don’t even think about it, Vale.
I’m not. I can’t.
Still, when I finally manage to step back from Lula, the chants of my name sound like a mockery. An accusation. I’m obviously not the true-blue hero they think I am.
“I’m so glad you’re safe,” Lula says, her cheeks flushed from my too-close attention.
I’m staring. I’m holding her by the elbows, worried she’ll get away. Or someone will try and hurt this sweet girl who has been sending letters to basecamp for a year. Letters that were witty and kind and didn’t pry. She talked about herself a little, but mostly she spoke about nature and beautiful things happening around the world. Things that aren’t war. Those stories transported me and I appreciated them, but damn, now I wish she’d talked more about herself.