The Stepbrother (Red's Tavern 5)

Sam looked strong. Capable. Beautiful, even though I’d never thought that about a man before. And he was always willing to help me, even though I’d been an asshole to him in the past.

“Well, good night,” I said to him, nodding before heading down the short hall to my bed.

“Night,” he called out.

The RV’s master bedroom in the back had a sliding door, but I decided to leave it open in case Sam needed anything in the middle of the night.

“Oh, wait,” I said, heading back out into the main area of the RV.

I glanced over to the day bed and saw him in nothing but boxer-briefs, leaning on his side as he presumably scrolled through his photos from the day on his phone.

He glanced up at me, clearly not at all ashamed to be seen in his underwear. “If you’re going to kick me out, at least let me stay in here for an hour to make sure Mom and Greg aren’t still humping like bunnies in the other RV.”

“God, no, I’m not kicking you out,” I said. “Please stay.”

He looked satisfied, and I felt my cheeks heat a little. I felt somehow desperate, like I’d been begging him to stay, even though I was sure it had sounded fairly normal.

Stupid. Silly. Sam did weird things to my brain.

“I just wanted to tell you something. I don’t really know how to say this, but… my last girlfriend informed me that I occasionally talk in my sleep, I guess. So if you hear anything from over here, I don't want you to be alarmed.”

Sam lifted an eyebrow. “Sleep talking, huh?” he said.

I was struck by how good he looked in the dim lighting. His skin looked like it was glowing. And seeing Sam out of his usual tank top made him look more angelic or innocent, somehow. Ready for cozy sleep instead of a party.

“Yeah,” I said, managing to get my thoughts back on track. “She said it was usually boring stuff, but that sometimes I… yelled. Mostly about money.”

Sam snorted. “I hate to tell you, but if you start yelling about money in your sleep, there’s only one thing I’m going to do.”

My blood ran cold. “Oh, hell no.”

“Yes,” he said. “I am going to take a video of that so fast.”

“Don’t you dare,” I said. “I’ll toss you out to sleep with the ghost outside if you take videos of me sleep talking.”

He giggled, settling into the bed. “I’m just giving you a hard time, Fox. I won’t take videos while you’re asleep, unless it’s me taking videos of my own cock under the sheets.”

“Jesus Christ,” I said.

“What? I have to have something good to send to guys when I finally have service again.”

I stared a thousand daggers into his eyes.

“I’m kidding! Again. I promise,” he protested. “I know how to be a perfectly well-behaved houseguest. RV-guest. My cock’s staying under these.”

He patted the side of his boxer-briefs, and this time I had to look away. My cheeks were probably fire-engine red by now.

“Good,” I said, turning to head back into my bedroom alcove.

The bed in the RV had one of the most comfortable mattresses I’d ever been on, and yet I still tossed and turned all night. It must have been close to four in the morning when I finally drifted off into a dream-hazy sleep.

At first the dreams were innocent—me walking through the forest, making phone calls about finances, or walking down familiar New York streets.

But the most intense and realistic dream came later on. I dreamed I was lying down on a blanket next to a lake, the summer sun filtering through the trees. In the dream all I could smell was the potent scent of summer—a deep floral background, sunscreen, and the crisp water. Sam lay down next to me on the blanket, and he was nearly naked, wearing just some skimpy swim shorts.

And in another moment, he was leaning over toward me, his body on top of mine, his skin so sweet and soft and warm.

I pulled him toward me. I had to. And then his lips were on mine, kissing me like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like we had kissed while we were in the pool—but this time, it wasn’t some ridiculous drunken shocking gesture. He was kissing me like it was what we were supposed to do.

In the dream, I was ravenous for more. I held his hot skin against mine, pressing close and not letting go.

I knew we were going to do more. I knew I wanted it, too. Sam moved lower, brushing his lips against my stomach and then lower toward my swim trunks. And then his mouth landed on my hard cock, pressing through the thin material of the shorts, as he kissed my shaft, gripping its base with one hand. He looked up at me, those big, green eyes meeting mine.