Step F*@K: Part Two (A Stepbrother Series Book 2) (6 page)

“Fuck!”

He pulls back, his hand going to his mouth. As he steps back out of the shadows, I catch a flash of red dripping onto his fingers. My mouth tastes coppery. I stand there, pressed against the side of the building.
 

“Everything okay?” someone yells over.
 

“Fine!” Jai shouts back, sounding a bit flustered, and I can’t help but smile. I yank the top of my dress up. “Just . . . I just tripped. Tripped and bit my lip and dropped my ice cream.” He presses his hand back to his mouth and looks at me. “Bloody hell. What the fuck was that?”
“I . . . I’m sorry.”

“You bit a fucking hole in my lip.” A grin is slowly spreading across his face, and he pulls his hand away and runs his tongue over his lower lip. “You’re a naughty girl, you know that?”
 

I try to get my breathing under control. I look down, and there’s my blob of ice cream, melting into the pavement. I can’t believe I just let him do that, feel me up like that with our parents so close. Anyone could’ve turned the corner and seen us, seen me there pressed up against the side of the building, tits hanging out, Jai all over me. And what makes this even worse is that, not only is he a
married
man, he’s also going to be my stepbrother. Yet despite knowing all this, I still want him, I’d still let him ravage me like this out in public with our family just around the corner.
 

“This has got to stop,” I whisper harshly.
 

“Of course. Though I expect we’ll be resuming this later. Don’t think you’re going to get off so easy for biting a hole through my lip.”

“I’m not joking! This has got to stop. It’s disgusting. This is not me. I don’t know what you’re doing to me, but I am not this kind of girl. So leave me alone.”

“I do love it when you play hard to get.”
“Stop being coy! I meant what I said earlier at the restaurant.”

“Oh, is that so? What was this then?”
“What was this?” I take a step toward him. “This was you accosting me and basically trying to force your way onto me. I don’t know how they do things over in London, but that’s considered very bad form here.”

He laughs. “Ah. An American schooling a Brit about manners. I love it. Darling, I wasn’t doing anything to you that you didn’t want. You know it, and I know it.”

“The problem with someone like you is that you’re so selfish and self-absorbed that you can tell yourself anything and believe it.”

“Yes, well . . . were you not kissing me back? If I were to stick my hands between your legs right now, would you not be totally wet? The body doesn’t lie.”

“No, but the person can. For my mother’s sake, I hope your father is nothing like you. They might be getting married, and we might technically be family, but that’s it. That’s all that’s going to happen between us, because you’re a smug, self-serving asshole. And yes, you can pat yourself on the back and feel all good about the fact that you’re handsome and good in bed and naturally any girl with functioning eyesight is going to want to sleep with you, but that doesn’t make you a good person, or even someone I’d want to be around. People who capitalize on their looks are the worst of all anyway—it’s just something you’re born with. So stop acting like you’re this amazing, awesome person that someone like me would be so lucky just to have look their way. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

I push past him, leaving him standing there with what I hope is a shocked expression. I doubt anyone’s ever said anything like that to him before, and I can’t help but feel exhilarated.

My exhilaration is rather short-lived, though, because once everyone’s done with their ice cream, Zack starts talking about going to the lake house and how everyone is going to get there.
 

“I know you don’t have any of your stuff with you, Emma,” Mom says, “that was a little shortsighted on my part, not to just have you bring a suitcase with you tonight. But if you want to head back to your place and pack you can, and then Zack can have his driver come pick you up and bring you out to the house. How does that sound?”
It sounds awful, is what I’m thinking, but I just nod. “Sure, Mom. His driver doesn’t need to come get me, though—I can just take a taxi.”

“Nonsense!” Zack says. “Roland’s going to take your mother and sister back to the hotel and then out to the house, then he’ll come back and get you.” Zack looks around, then points somewhere over my shoulder. I turn and see Jai standing there, sitting on the bench that I was going to sit on before he accosted me. “My son and I are going to drive out together—have a little father son bonding time. So don’t you worry about it, Emma, okay? Your mother’s told me what a considerate young lady you can be, and while that’s a notable quality, I want you to just relax and enjoy the festivities over the next few days. Sound like a good deal?”
Everyone in our little group, it seems, has stopped and is watching this exchange. I feel like I’m in school and the teacher has just called on me and I don’t know the answer to the question.
 

“Sure,” I mumble. “But I’ll take a cab back to my apartment. It’s really no big deal.”

“Okay, suit yourself,” Zack says. From behind him, I see Jai watching me. He catches my eye, but I turn away. I just want this night to be over with.

Ah, isn’t life funny. What are the chances that I’d meet a girl online—in L.A., of all places—hook up with her, have some of the best sex of my life—and that is actually saying something—only to find out a mere twelve hours later that she is going to be my stepsister.
 

This is what I’m thinking about as we drive out to the lake house, Dad yammering away about something that I’m not really paying any attention to. Because I’ve now found myself in somewhat of a predicament, though really, I could give a toss about labels, about taboos. So what if she’s going to be my stepsister? It’s not like we were raised together from young childhood—we’re two adults, whose two parents happen to be fucking and have decided to officiate it by getting married. Big fucking deal.
 

But Emma cares, I can tell. These sorts of things usually bother girls more. They can’t help but think about what their friends or family are going to say, what other people are going to think about them, what this says about their character and moral compass and all that shit. A guy—so long as the girl’s hot enough to get his dick hard, none of that other shit really matters.
 

And Emma’s definitely hot enough to get my dick hard. I think about pressing my mouth against her neck, how hot her skin felt against my lips, the tantalizing way she smelled. The way her body stiffened against me, and I could feel the sizzling energy, how part of her wanted it so badly, how another part of her was vehement that she flat out reject me.
 

That latter part won out this time, but I have my doubts as to whether it will win out next time.
 

If there is a next time.
 

It’s been a while since I was last at Dad’s lake house, and to be coming here with his wedding entourage is a bit surreal. The place is big enough that if Emma wanted to avoid me, she could. Even when the wedding entourage leaves and it’s just the “family,” relaxing and getting to know each other, as Dad put it, if Emma really wants to keep the distance between us, she’ll be able to.
 

“I’ve got something of a surprise for you,” Dad says as we zoom down the freeway.

“Oh boy,” I say. “The last time you started a sentence off with that, you informed me you were getting married.”

He chuckles. “Is that how I started it off? Well, this surprise isn’t quite as big as that one, but I think you’ll like it.”

“Is it something at the house?”

“Well . . . yes. But not yet. Give it a few days.”

“I hate when you’re cryptic like this.”
 

“Right, but if I wasn’t, then I’d just have to tell you and it wouldn’t be a surprise anymore.”
 

“I’ll assume that it’s something good, then.”’

“I think you’ll be pleased.”

I settle back into the leather seat of the BMW. I’m not in the mood to play any games, or to guess what this surprise could possibly be. There have been, in my opinion, enough surprises in regards to this wedding, and I doubt that I’ll be as thrilled with whatever surprise he’s got as my father thinks I will. I lean my head against the glass, watching the dark blurs of scenery zoom by.
 

“You tired?” Dad asks. “I know it’s been a whirlwind couple of days. And you’ve been traveling, on top of all that. I know it probably seems like a bit much, trying to create this family and all, but I really love Stephanie. I want things to work out for us, and that means making being a family. Not just me and her, but you and her daughters, too. They seem like lovely young ladies, her daughters, wouldn’t you say?”

I don’t lift my head from the window. “Oh yes, just lovely.”

“I know it might seem pointless, trying to do this whole family thing, with you guys being adults and everything, but I did always want a family.”

“You had one,” I say pointedly.
 

“I know. And I fucked things up because I just wasn’t ready. Don’t think I didn’t feel remorse about what happened with your mother. I wish things could’ve been different for us, I do. I wish we could’ve given you the kind of childhood I always wanted. Which was to say, one of stability and love.”

“Mum loves me plenty.”

“That’s good. She’s a good woman, your mother. I’ve never thought otherwise. But, like I said, I just wasn’t ready at the time.”

I lift my head from the window and take a deep breath and try to detach myself from the conversation. Dad and I have never really been able to have one of those successful heart-to-heart talks, the sort of conversation that might be painful at the time but you can walk away from feeling good about after.
 

“I’m imagine there’s a lot of people who aren’t necessarily ready to have a kid, yet they find themselves with one anyway. That doesn’t give them free reign to just go off and act however they want.”

“I know, Jai.” He gives me a sidelong look. The car hums silently across the pavement. “I guess I just brought this up because I want you to know that I’m going to try to do things differently this time. I think I’m finally ready for a family. And I think it’s good we’re all going to be here at the house together, to give us some time to just be together. I want that. I want you to have some time to really get to know Stephanie, to get to know your stepsisters, before you head back home. We do all have lives to get back to, after all.”

I lean my head back against the window. Oh, the irony. I decide not to mention that I actually happen to know one of my stepsisters-to-be rather well. In a certain sense, anyway.