“What, you a psychologist now?”

“See, you did it again. And I don’t have to be. Any idiot could see it.” I wink at her, and to my total surprise, I see just a flicker of a smile.

“You know, Chance, you’re not as interesting as you think you are.”

“I’m certainly more interesting than you thought I was."

“Try again,” she says, narrowing her eyes.

I take out a box of mints. I rattle it, but she just shakes her head, so I shrug, and pop two into my mouth.

She takes a deep breath, and I prepare myself for a lot of words.

“You think you’re like this mystery to be unraveled. Some kind of enigma. You think that girls like you not because you’re the quote-unquote bad boy on the outside… stop laughing.”

But I can’t help myself. She even did the finger air-quote gesture.

“You think you’re all hard on the outside and that actually you’re this interesting person on the inside and that everybody is just dying to puzzle you out, dying to unlock the true you.”

“Now you sound like the psychologist.”

“I’ve met your type before.”

“No you haven’t.”

“Yes I have.”

“Really?” I say, and I know I’m going to hate myself for letting the next words fly out of my mouth. But I do, because that’s me.

“How many guys like me want to spend time talking to you?”

Excerpt:

Unleashed

An MMA Stepbrother Romance

Every time I think he can’t possibly get any worse, he somehow manages to top himself.

Every single time.

It doesn’t even offend me. Well, that’s a lie. It does, and it does hurt a little, but fuck him, I really don’t care what he thinks, and I’m done with him.

“Fuck you, Chance.”

I walk off, quicker, pushing him away as I walk past him. A moment passes, and I keep walking, but I feel like I’m walking the plank. I feel like I’m crossing a tightrope without a harness. I feel like I’m waiting for something…

“But they should want to,” he calls from behind me.

I stop, wondering if I heard him correctly. I turn around slowly, and see him walking toward me. He’s closing the distance between us in powerful strides, and I just am rooted to the floor, breathing quickly, my heart racing, wondering what’s going to happen next.

And then he holds my face in his huge, strong hands, and he kisses me. It’s not just any kiss. He crushes my lips against his. There’s no tongue at first, he just kisses my lips, and before I know it, I’ve dropped my things, and I’m holding onto his muscular back, and I’m kissing him back.

Not just any kiss. I’m crushing my lips against his, and I’m moaning into his mouth, and I’m sending my tongue deep inside.

I can feel his hot breath on me, and then he’s kissing down my neck, and I’m gripping onto his hair, and his hands are rounding my waist and on my ass and he gives me a squeeze. Unconsciously, I push my hips into his, and I’m startled to feel his hardness through his jeans.

Our kiss breaks, and I look down, and I can see him. See his desire pushing against his jeans. I can’t believe I’m kissing him. I can’t believe I’m doing this.

It’s like I’m not myself. He pulls me down onto the sand, and he sits behind me, wraps his arms around me, and I push back against his body as he kisses the back of my neck. His hot breath makes my hairs stand on end, and shivers run down my body from head to toe at his every touch. His fingers leave trails of fire all over me.

His hands are hungry, groping, squeezing me, and I turn my head to the side and he takes my lips again, and while he’s kissing me, while we’re tonguing each other, while I’m practically hyperventilating, he’s running his hand slowly south, over my belly, down my thigh, and then up and under my skirt.

I want to stop him. I don’t want to give in to him. But, oh God, I don’t want him to stop. He starts to rub the inside of my thigh, squeeze it in his big and powerful hands, inching ever slightly upward, under my skirt, toward my molten center.

And I know I’m so turned on. I can feel it, the tightness in my belly, the fullness at the juncture of my thighs. I even become aware of the wetness in my underwear, pressing back against me when he suddenly cups my sex.

I gasp, feeling the heat of his palm radiate into my core, and then he’s rubbing me through my underwear, and all I’m doing is pushing my head back into him, arching my back, stretching out like a cat in the sun.

Somehow, I don’t care that we’re on a public beach. Somehow, I’ve been immunized to modesty. My body craves his touch, yearns for completion at his touch, and I’m powerless to prevent my physical urges from taking control of me, from dictating my every reaction.

And so I give in. I let him touch me. I crane my neck to the side so he can kiss me, lick me, take my earlobe into his mouth and suck on it. I hear him smell me, and my hands go unconsciously to his knees, and I’m gripping onto them, feeling hard muscle, and I’m somehow able to see the image of his thighs in my mind, naked, thrusting into me, tensing and flexing as he buries himself deep inside me.

I moan and I writhe and I undulate my body. I’m making noises I’ve never made before, and I’m doing something I’ve never done before, and his fingers are playing me like an instrument, granting me these glimpses at such intense pleasure I know it will make the world melt away around me.

And then he finally stops teasing me. I feel his fingers slip beneath the elastic, and his hot flesh is on mine, right in my center, right in my most private place. There’s this great swell of nervous anticipation in me, and my heart is hammering in my chest, and the roar of blood in my ears drowns out the sounds of the sea and the birds.

It’s just me and him, his breath on my neck, his fingers on my sex, and my moans on the wind.

He pushes a finger inside me and I grip onto his legs even harder. He angles it upward, rubs the front of inside me, and I feel so, so good. He pushes a second finger into me, and I feel myself stretch around him, and he’s still also somehow working my clit, and it’s just all too much.

I’m gripping onto him like it’s for dear life, and he settles into a quick rhythm, and I feel myself climbing higher and higher, getting closer and closer to the edge.