Stepbrother Charming Page 5

  Amanda trots off and heads upstairs. Claire and I are alone and quiet for about a minute, just listening to Joan hum gospel to herself while she clears the plates, loading them onto the nearby cart.

  Damn do I love that woman and her music, even if I've never been the religious type. I let Joan's soft hymns float over me and don't dare look at Claire again 'til she's done. Even I have limits for how fucking awkward it would be to have my cock at full mast while I'm listening to the soft, sweet stuff that used to lull me to sleep.

  “Well? What do you say, Sis?” I emphasize the word, loving the way her eyes spark with anger when she hears it. “How 'bout a little family bonding time?”

  “No way.” Claire's cheeks go red.

  She's pissed off, embarrassed, confused. I can't blame her, but I sure hate having my ass turned down. I'm not used to no, and it sits about as well with me as a punch to the jaw.

  Her chair screeches on the floor just like her mom's, and then she's up, taking her glass of orange juice with her.

  “You're crazy if you think this breakfast changes anything. After seeing your dad blow up, I can kind of see where your crap comes from, Ty. I feel bad for you.” She lowers her voice. “But let's just get this clear – there's no fucking way I want to spend any time with you. Certainly not alone. I saw what you're like at the club. You're a drunken, crazy, womanizing creep.”

  Fucking shit. It stings more than I expect, lights a spark I haven't felt since I was a goddamned gawky teenager asking out a senior chick to prom my sophomore year. The older girl said no, and she was the last one ever 'til today.

  “Okay, Sis. You wanna treat me like a goddamned stalker criminal, then I'll fucking act like one!” I get up in her face for a second, flatten her against the wall as she gasps. “I read you loud and clear. This creep's gonna fuck right off. I thought it'd be nice to sort this shit out, maybe try to find some common ground. But you're absolutely right – we don't fucking need to, and I sure as hell don't need your shitty sympathy. You can shove it up your perfect ass and spend the day alone. I can do the evil eye too, Sis, and that's all you're gonna get from me all summer.”

  I let go. She blinks, and doesn't move a muscle. Turning sharply, I head into the hall.

  I don't even feel bad about scaring the shit outta her for like the third time since we met.

  The only thing that makes me burn is my own stupidity. I've been a fucking idiot to think I'll ever feel anything for this woman except a blinding urge to fuck her, or else rip her goddamned head off.

  There's no common ground between us. There's nothing. The bitch is right – if it doesn't involve my dick pushing in her pussy, then we don't need to explore. We just need to stay the fuck outta each other's way.

  III: Calm and Stormy Seas (Claire)

  I didn't know whether to scream or slap him. He gets in my face, sad and scorned and angry all at once, and then he's gone in an instant, leaving me hating him more than ever. I also feel like the biggest bitch in history.

  Guilt blossoms in my stomach like a heavy, bitter lump. But then I remind myself that Ty's used to getting his women on demand, however he likes. I won't oblige him. I'm not going to play nice when he hasn't given me one good fucking reason to.

  I can't pretend. I'm not going to suck up to him and bring myself agonizingly closer to sucking what's probably a magnificent cock between his legs.

  Just thinking about how close we've been the last few times makes me blush.

  I head downstairs and sit at my laptop, trying to read some stuff my new boss has sent over. It's a nice escape for awhile, but I can't stop looking out the window.

  The beautiful day lends a terrible distraction. Right now, I don't want to be reading about how fat cats are wrangling to bring down every inch of Cascadia's pristine wilderness. I want to be out in it, running along the shore, feeling the warm sand flush between my toes. Here in Washington, these are the rare days you're supposed to pluck from the tree, gorge on every golden second that breaks the eternal rainy gloom.

  Damn it. I last about an hour, and then I can't take it. I'm going stir crazy.

  Slamming my laptop shut, I grab a water bottle and head out to the huge twelve car garage. My rusty shitbox of a car looks as out of place as I feel in this house. It's a decaying tumor wedged between three shiny new Tesla cars. I wonder if they all belong to the billionaire, or if one of them is Ty's.

  “Hey, what the fuck?” A gruff voice behind me makes me spin.

  Ty's standing there in shorts and a wickedly tight t-shirt, an umbrella tucked underneath one arm, plus a bottle of sun screen. In the other, there's an open bottle of rum. I smell it on him, spicy and infuriating, the rum's natural hues blending with his rough, masculine scent.

  “What're you doing out here? You're drunk.”

  He laughs like it's a joke. “I'm going to the fucking beach. Just like you, sis. Forget the bullshit I said earlier. I'll walk. Maybe we'll meet somewhere up ahead.”

  My mouth drops. With the way he's slurring his words, he's in no state to do anything, let alone navigate rugged patches of Pacific coast. He's putting me in an impossible position, doing a complete about-face from the venom he hit me with earlier.

  So, you're not just an asshole, I think to myself, but an asshole who likes mind games?

  For the millionth time since meeting Ty Sterner, I have to decide whether to shake my head or whack him across the cheek. Doing both sounds really good right about now.

  “You can't go anywhere like this. Put the rum down and go back inside,” I snap.

  Instead, I just stand there, watching as the arrogant smirk on his lips melts and he turns around.

  “Eh, what-the-fuck-ever. I tried, babe. See you on the flip side.”

  My eyeballs almost pop out as I watch him stagger over to one of the fancy electric cars. He pulls open the door to the shiny white Tesla car and crumples in the driver's seat. The asshole's drunk, but thankfully he's so wasted he can't even find the keys in his pocket. He swears when he realizes he doesn't even have them, and I start to laugh.

  “What's so fucking funny?” he growls, stepping out and slamming the door behind him with a bang.

  “You're such an irresponsible dumbass, Ty. I almost feel sorry for you. Almost.”

  “I told you I don't need your sympathy. What I need is a ride to the goddamned beach. Now, you gonna let me chill in your car, or are we gonna waste a perfectly clear Washington evening seeing who can piss the hardest?”

  I sink my teeth into my lower lip. He's an asshole and an idiot.

  I can't believe I'm about to do this, but leaving him here to roll around drunk or even hurt himself under the influence isn't something I want on my hands. Honestly, he's sad too, pulling on my hearstrings in a lost boy kinda way.

  “Fine. Follow me and get in. I swear to God, if you touch anything in my car or lay another hand on me, you're out. I'll pull over and kick you to the curb. I don't care if you have to call up the chauffeur or fucking hitchhike home. You're only my problem as long as you behave yourself.”

  Grinning, he throws his hands up, gives them a shake, and then pushes them behind his back. “These hands have knocked twenty guys out cold. I know how to control them. You worry too much, Sis. I won't turn a single hair on that sexy brunette head gray.”

  Rolling my eyes, I get in my car and wait for him to lumber into the passenger seat. It takes a minute to make sure he's got his seat belt on, and then we're off.

  Passing through the gate with the guard shack humiliates me just enough to forget about Ty's stupid antics for a second. Amazingly, the guard smiles, whispers a few pleasant words, and reveals nothing. I can't believe he isn't secretly wondering what this peasant girl with the old beater is doing on his billionaire boss' long driveway.

  It's a ten minute drive down the sprawling coast. It's almost all part of Gary's estate. I can't believe how many miles of coastline this crazy family owns, but I'm beginning to figure out billions can buy just about an
ything.

  So why can't they buy happiness? Is that old cliche really true?

  I keep looking at Ty. I can't figure him out. He's either an asshole wrapped in an enigma, or an enigma bound up in a total asshole.

  He hasn't said a word since we got through the gate. He's staring out at the Pacific's roaring waves, little sailboats lining the distant horizon. The hand on his forehead tells me the rum is finally getting to him.

  “Do you always drink like this?” I ask.

  He shrugs. “I play hard when I can. Life's short, babe. Got my training in yesterday, and I'm all about relaxing now, especially after that fucked up family sit down this morning. I'd have needed a couple stiff drinks after that shit any day.”

  He's right about that. I'm feeling so much better just being out of the house.

  “Is that why you stormed off this morning? Look, I didn't mean to be such a bitch. But I haven't gotten over what you said –“

  He waves a hand. “You will, Sis. I don't say shit I don't mean. We're stuck in this fucking house together. Both of us are cursed to watch while our parents fuck up their lives with this stupid marriage. We can either learn to like it, or lump it all goddamned summer. All I know is, summers here are way too short for sulking. I wanna forget about this bullshit for the rest of the day and soak up some sun. You know I'm right.”

  Even as a drunken fool, he's too confident. I want to wipe that know-it-all look off his face.

  Too bad the asshole's making sense too. Maybe it won't hurt to give him one more chance. He's obviously troubled.

  Neither of us asked for this mess. We've been thrown together in the same box like two stray cats. I can't believe Mom didn't consider the tensions I'd have with this step-brother I never asked for. Then again, it's not her fault I ran into this asshole before I knew he was even family, let him get his lips and hands all over me...

  “Hey! Right there!” I'm snapped out of my thoughts by Ty leaning into me and pointing. “That's a perfect fucking spot. There's a little dock and some sweet views, better than the boathouse a couple miles back.”

  “Okay! You know I'm trying to drive here, right?” I shake him away off me, rolling my shoulders.

  I turn onto a little service road and follow it up to the beach. Ty pops his door first and flops out, bouncing onto his feet and running toward the shore.

  He's left me in the dust. Once again, I feel like a complete idiot, and then an even bigger one when I'm trying to catch up with him.

  “Wait, wait, wait!” I call. He doesn't stop until he's just a small figure up ahead.

  I can't decide if he's ignoring me or just unable to hear me over the ocean's roar. Shaking my head, I start to slow down, deciding to admire the beauty instead.

  God, this is stupid. Worse than chasing after a loose dog.

  It is, and I'm way past caring. If he wants to run right into the shimmering blue waves and let the sea carry him away, it's not my problem.

  Oh, except I'll be more than a little liable if anything happens to this drunken asshole. I doubt my brand new billionaire father with the explosive temper will let it go lightly if I brought his son to the sea to drown.

  A couple seagulls squawk overhead. My cue to start running. I have to catch up.

  There's plenty of sand between my toes now, but not like I expected. I never got a chance to change into my sandals before the dickhead took off.

  Where the fuck is he?

  He's disappeared into a long sandy path through some tall brush lining the hills overlooking the beach.

  My heart's racing. I'm starting to get seriously freaked out. I follow it for what seems like forever and start to second-guess myself. It's getting narrower and a little more rocky, so I have to slow down, much to the relief of my poor lungs.

  I haven't been working out like I should for the last year. I make a mental note to do something about it – assuming I can find this jackass.

  He beats me to it. Ty comes up behind me when I'm not looking and tackles me to the ground. I hit the sand with an oomph and roll, slapping at his face.

  “Asshole! You got us lost!”

  He grabs my wrists like they're nothing and pins me to the ground. That brash, rage-inducing smile I'm starting to recognize as his trademark lightens his face.

  There's something hard against my leg. It better not be his cock, or I'm going to scream. Mainly because it doesn't freak me out nearly as much as it should.

  Apparently, my flesh still can't understand that such an amazing body belongs to a complete freak. I hate wanting him, and I don't care that it's all on a primal level I can't control. It's too fucking much.

  I push against him as hard as I can. He falls backwards and lands on his butt, laughing. There's no way I managed to move him, he's just lost his balance. Lucky me.

  “Lost? I come here all the fucking time. This is my spot. Perfect place for drinks too.” He reaches into his pocket and fumbles around.

  Heat flushes my cheeks when I see it's just another little bottle of rum. For a second, I wondered if it was a condom. He pops the cap and takes a long pull before handing it to me.

  “What? Did you think I lured you out here to fuck my own sister?” The look on his face says he knows damned well what I was thinking. “Come on. Have a nip. I can't be a selfish prick if I like to share.”

  I rip the bottle out of his hands. The sharp stink hits my nostrils like pickle juice. For a rich boy, you'd think he'd be drinking something nicer.

  It's disgusting, infuriating, and out of place. Just like him. Damn, just like us.

  I wait until his eyes are locked to mine, and then I hold it out, tip it upside down, and empty every drop on the ground.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” His arm shoots out, rips the little bottle out of my hand, and throws it several feet away when he sees it's empty. “You're still treating me like a total asshole!”

  “That's because you are one,” I snarl, crossing my arms. “You scare the utter shit out of me, put your hands where they don't belong, and then you litter this nice beach to top it all off. Seriously, Ty, what the hell am I supposed to think? You're not acting like a Nobel prize winner.”

  Ty laughs while I'm shaking my head. Slapping him stupid doesn't seem like it'll do the job – I want to fucking punch him right between his gemstone blue eyes.

  “I started to think there was another side to you this morning. Your dad treated you like crap at the table. But you're really the same – both of you! You've got his habits. You treat me with the same respect you've got for the rest of the world, I guess. None at all. You obviously don't care about anything around you.” I point to the fallen bottle.

  The playful smirk on his face melts. Those baby blues turn angry, dark and cold like an iceberg threatening to gut anything that comes too close.

  “You can shut your mouth now, babe, 'cause you don't know shit. Come the fuck on, Claire. You think I need a lecture in your hippie enviro-shit? I did a charity fight last winter for conservation. Gave the money to a group that's got a brain in its head just to piss my old man off. You're just about to start interning for a bunch of crazy asshole idealists. You can't tell me you're a true believer in all this group's shit.”

  No, I'm not true blue. The bastard has me there.

  Sure, I want to see the state's natural wonders preserved. I know Cascades Now! has a reputation for extremes. Mostly, I'm excited because they're going to give me experience and throw a few bucks my way – everything I want out of my first post-college gig.

  “Of course not,” I hiss. “I don't believe in everything they do any more than you support everything your dad's done with Spree. Or maybe you do think it's okay to dump your crap out here when nobody's looking?”

  That does it. Ty jumps up, stomps right past me, into the brush. He returns a second later, holding the empty glass flask in one hand.

  “You wanna get personal, Sis? I can do that shit, yeah, but I'd rather just fucking go.” Without asking, he reaches
down, grabs my hand, and jerks me onto my feet.

  I follow him down the windy path back toward the beach. The Pacific's churning waves should be a comfort, but it just puts me more on edge. Bright evening sun dances off the waters – too bright. It's reflective, blinding.

  The asshole a few steps in front of me is the reason I forgot my sunglasses too.

  “Personal?” What the hell are you talking about?”

  He doesn't answer me until we stop next to a tall blue canister. He drops the glass bottle into it, and it hits the bottom with a resounding clap. Guess there aren't a lot of visitors on this private land.

  He stops and stares at me, his arms folded over his huge chest. Jesus, I can't stop staring at him, even when I'm steaming mad. Ty's got an angel's body – a guardian angel's – and it takes so much effort not to let my eyes glide down him too long.

  I shouldn't be so hot and bothered. Okay, maybe bothered because he's punched all my wrong buttons. But I know I'm in trouble when he steps up, closing the distance between us, and I can't stop sneaking little glances at his powerful hips.

  The shorts he's wearing accent everything. His bare legs are as built and muscular as the rest of him, and I know that hard ass at the top lets him run like the wind.

  Does he shake a girl straight down to her bones when he's between her legs, driving deep and hard? Fucking this animal must hurt. Probably in all the best ways I can imagine.

  And believe me, my overactive, inexperienced virgin brain is going wild.

  Ty stops with less than a couple inches between us. He must've seen me peeking because his eyes are all over me, lingering on my breasts. I'd regret not wearing something a little more conservative if I wasn't busy regretting this whole damned thing.

  He reaches out and puts a hand on my shoulder, starts to turn me before I can protest. “Spin, babe. You've got sand all over your ass.”

  He gets two or three quick strokes down my back and over my butt before I dart away. Fucker.

  I can't blame him for looking because I was doing the same, but I'm drawing the line at him ever getting his filthy hands on me again. “Don't be a pig.”