Cannon (A Step Brother Romance #3)

Then Hendrix is pushing me against the tree, peeling my pants over my hips and yanking them, over my thighs. Before I can say anything else, he slides my panties over my hips. "Did I tell you how much I like this ass?" he asks.

I grin like an idiot, and I must look like one, out here in a damn storm, with my back against a tree and my pants pulled down around my knees. But I don't have time to think about what I look like, or about the way we're both soaked to the bone, before Hendrix drops to his knees between my legs and covers my pussy with his mouth. He explores me with his tongue, licking me and sucking my clit, and I let out a loud moan that gets lost in the noise of the storm.

He doesn't take his time eating me out. This isn't slow and languid. He eats me like he's been thinking about this for years and he can't get enough, and I close my eyes and let go. I pull his head against me as he sucks my clit into his mouth, running his tongue in circles over and over it. When he slides his fingers inside me, I'm already so close I nearly come at the sensation, and I know I want more. I want all of him.

I moan his name, not caring how loud I am because it's carried away by the wind, urging him to fuck me harder with his fingers, when what I really want is his cock. When he groans, the vibration reverberates through my pussy, bringing me higher. I run my hands over my breasts, barely covered by the sheer fabric of my shirt, and the stimulation practically sends me over the edge. I want to wait, to savor him doing what he's doing between my legs, but he has me so far gone, I can't. When I come, I cry out his name, my hands gripping his head as my muscles clench around his fingers. The release is so intense, and I've waited so long to be with him, that I cry when I come. I fucking sob, the tears intermingling with the rain.





FIVE YEARS AGO


I look at the house one last time before I leave. It's five in the morning, and the sun hasn't come up yet. I'm slinking away from this place like a coward, without saying a damn thing to Addy. Not even goodbye. And certainly not the other thing I should say, the thing that really matters.

The cab driver closes the trunk and I sink back into the seat, refusing to turn around and give the place a backwards glance. It's better this way. I said goodbye to our parents last night. My father gave me his one sentence of sage advice: "Don't fuck up the Marines."

Addy was the one person I wanted to see, but she was gone last night, out at a movie or something with her friends, and I didn't wake her this morning. Those are the excuses I gave myself, and they're total bullshit. I could have seen her. I just didn't have the balls.

I stare at the envelope in my hand, the note I was going to leave for her but chickened out before I could slip it under her door. Instead, I stood there staring at her door this morning, my heart beating loudly in my chest, willing her to open the door so I could tell her in person. I slip the envelope in my backpack. Fuck it.

I'll get over her, I tell myself.

The problem is, I know when I'm lying to myself, and this lie is a big one. Addy isn't the kind of girl you ever get over.





PRESENT DAY


"I'm not going inside," she says. She's standing by the car, her umbrella over her head, which looks ridiculous since she's already soaked through to the bone. I'm standing an appropriate foot away from her, just in case anyone is watching us, when I really want to finish what we started. "I don't want to see them, especially after…"

"After I had my tongue inside you?"

If the darkness and the rain weren't obscuring my vision, I'd say Addy was blushing something fierce. I love seeing her blush. "Yes," she says, bringing her hand to her mouth like she's remembering. "They'll know something happened."

"If we don't go inside, they'll wonder where we are," I say.

"I texted my mother and told her I wasn't feeling well and you were taking me home." Just then, Addy's phone lights up and she checks it. "Shit. My mother says there's flooding down the hill. The bridge is out."

"The bridge is out," I repeat.

"Fuck."

My cock should deflate at this news, but it doesn't. It's hard still, pressed up against the zipper of my jeans as I look at Addy, soaking wet, her formerly filmy shirt now completely transparent and clinging to her breasts. "I guess you'll have to lust after me a while longer," I say.

""Me lust after you?" she asks, smiling. "You're the one with a huge -- "

"A huge cock? Yeah, I know. But thanks for noticing. They don't call me Cannon for nothing."

"I was going to say a huge hard-on," she says, giggling. "People call you Cannon because it's your middle name, not because of your cock size."

"Have you ever seen my cock?" I ask.

"No," she says.

Not yet, I think. "Exactly. When you do, you'll understand."

Addy laughs, the sound light. "You're full of yourself."

"You're about to be full of me too, sweet cheeks."

She slaps my arm. "Not in the parents' house," she says.