Like I said, I’ve done and seen a lot in my lifetime. I know brightness like hers isn’t just available everywhere, especially for a weary soldier like me. It’s unique and perfect. Like walking through a sandstorm and finding shelter. During my service, I saw the worst of humanity. Enough to know when I’ve come across the best—and I’m holding on to her.
Come hell or high water.
But apparently she’s going to need…courting. Some convincing.
Since I can’t take her out on a date in a stolen vehicle, I ditch the car in the airport parking lot and rent a luxury sedan. My plan is to buy a permanent car at a dealership near Coronado when I’m getting settled on base. For now, a rental will have to suffice. My instinct is to find something black, but I think of Lula’s brightly colored energy, the lively pink and yellow fuzzy towels in the bathroom. Her aqua sandals on the shoe rack by the front door of the house. With that information, I go with a cerulean blue Jaguar and head toward the house.
When I walk into the kitchen, my father lowers his newspaper. “Well there you are, son. If I wasn’t positive you can take care of yourself, I would have been worried.”
Vanessa breezes into the kitchen with a clinking glass of iced tea in her hand. “I’m sure we can guess how a red-blooded man spent one of his first nights back on US soil…” She winks at me, stirring the drink with her index finger. “I’ll forgive you for not letting me fix you up. Maybe it’s better you went out and blew off a little steam first.”
“Always with the innuendo, Vanessa,” my father grouches, going back to the paper.
“You knew what you were getting into when we started dating,” she laughs.
Lula walks into the room and my senses are turned up to full wattage. I have to shove my hands into my pockets so I won’t reach for her, settle her butt somewhere, wedge myself between her thighs. Jesus, she looks edible. The camping trip has been showered away leaving behind tan lines that peek out from beneath the straps of her purple tank top. She’s barefoot, wearing these tight yoga pants that make her backside look like a meal and I have to grind my jaw to keep from growling.
Her eyes go soft when they see me, but then awareness moves into them.
Heat.
Curiosity, too.
As if she’s wondering whether or not my intentions have changed overnight. They haven’t. They’re never going to change. And I try to communicate that to her with my eyes. I must get at least some of my point across, because she crosses quickly to the fridge and stands in the cool opening, fanning her neck.
“How was camping?” Vanessa asks Lula, trading an eye roll with my father.
“Oh, um…” Lula’s throat works, her gaze drifting to mine briefly. “Beautiful. Peaceful. A family of deer walked right through our campsite this morning.”
“Wow,” Vanessa says, absently, reading the newspaper over her husband’s shoulder.
I wait for them to ask her more, but they don’t.
They don’t encourage her. Their mild interest isn’t even convincing.
Yeah, I need to get her moved out of his toxic environment as soon as possible. I grew up in it. The pressure to conform, to be a certain way—like my father—is immense. Having offbeat interests, like Lula, has made her a target for their disdain at the worst of times, indifference at the best. There is no way in hell I’m going to let them dim the light shining inside of her.
Not happening.
“I was thinking we could do something together tonight, Lula,” I say into the quiet kitchen, an even heavier silence ensuing. She straightens from the fridge, a glass of orange juice in her hand, eyes wide on me. “Get to know each other better. Since we’re family now.”
“O-oh,” she breathes. Then, comically, downs the entire glass of juice, because she obviously doesn’t know what to say. It takes an effort not to laugh. “I would like—”
“Are you sure, Vale?” Vanessa gives a skeptical laugh. “I have a network of beauties on speed dial—”
“Vanessa, I don’t know how many ways I can say that I’m not interested,” I growl, holding my stepmother’s startled attention for several beats, irritation making my fingers flex. “Do not bring it up again.”
I’m up against enough skepticism from Lula. I don’t need Vanessa making it any worse.
There is only one woman I’ll ever want. If it was up to me, I would tell our parents everything right now. But I’ve pushed Lula enough in the last twenty-four hours. Now it’s time to have a little patience while she gets used to the fact that I’m not going anywhere.
After a moment, Vanessa nods reluctantly, dropping heavily into one of the dining room chairs. My father watches me curiously, like he wants to say something but chooses to read the sports page instead. As for my stepsister, she bites her lip and leaves the room, subtly indicating I should follow after her. As if I’d do anything else.
We meet at the base of the staircase, her incense and orange juice scent making my mouth water, along with her plump tits. Hell, every inch of her makes me hot. How in God’s name am I going to wait until tonight?
I shoot a glance toward the kitchen to make sure we’re not being watched, then I lean down and kiss her mouth, sliding my tongue in to pet hers once, twice, my cock unfurling in my jeans, in dire need of Lula’s pussy.
She pulls away with a scandalized expression, but she’s breathing fast. “Vale,” she says in a furious whisper, looking over her shoulder. “You can’t just d-do that.”
“I could if we told them you’re mine. They will eventually have to get used to it.”
Lula hedges. “I’m…I’m still not sure—”
“You’re not sure I’m thinking straight. Or that I know what I want.” I tip her chin up, trace her lower lip with my thumb. “Don’t worry, I’m going to clear it right up for you, princess.”
After a moment, she nods and relief settles in my gut.
“I didn’t sleep last night, so I’m going up to grab some now.”
I press my thumb into her mouth, groaning when she sucks on it reflexively, seeming to surprise even herself. Her eyelids turn heavy, her nipples pebbling against the front of her tank top. It’s on the tip of my tongue to order her upstairs into my bed. I’d love to spend the whole day there, riding her in every position known to man, but I need patience. She’s an emotional soul. And didn’t she tell me she has to meditate on decisions? Rushing Lula could only hurt me in the long run and I refuse to take chances with someone so important.
“Be ready to leave at seven.” Reluctantly, I slide my thumb back out of her gorgeous mouth, using the wetness to coat her lips, leaving them glossy. “Wear the skimpiest pair of panties you own. Enough skirt to keep other men from seeing what’s between your legs—what’s mine—but not enough I can’t yank it up when I need to.”
When I speak her to like this, commanding her gently, Lula gets the same expression on her face she had in the woods. When she took off her clothes and let the sunshine warm her bare skin. It’s an expression of belonging, relief, anticipation. Being my little girl is right for her in the way it’s right for me. In the way she’s right for me.