Bend (A Stepbrother Romance) (18 page)

“You.” Keir looked him up and down, lip twisted with disdain. “Who the fuck are you?”

“My coworker,” I said, trying to push Zach back out the door. It was no use, though, there was no moving him.

“You’d better watch how you talk to her, bro,” Zach said.

“Or what?” Keir barked back. Just as he took a step toward Zach, intending on getting up in his face, Zach lifted his phone and snapped a photo. “Motherfucker,” Keir said, but Zach was cackling and already halfway out the door before he recovered.

With Zach out the way, I reached out and put a hand on Keir’s chest, holding him back from the door. “Don’t,” I said. “He’s a coworker.” I emphasized the word, hoping he’d get the hint.

“Fucking paparazzi,” he spat. Rage contorted his face but he didn’t follow Zach outside.

“You coming?” Alisa asked me softly, hovering out of the way.

Keir finally seemed to calm down when he saw her. “She’s staying,” he said, grasping my upper arm.

I exchanged a look with her, not sure just what the hell I should do.
I should leave!
But she winked and said, “Have a good night, guys!” and followed Zach out to his car, deliberately closing the door behind her.

I tugged away from Keir. “I can’t,” I said. “I should go with them. This was stupid. I’m sorry we came by at all.”

“Stay.” All the anger seemed to have drained out of him. “Can we just talk?”

“I don’t have anything else to say.” Nothing else that I wanted to say, at least. I’d already mouthed off too much. I could barely look him in the eye.

And yet… this was Keir. My favorite musician. The man who was writing a song for me. And my stepbrother, whether I liked it or not. We had to at least try to find a happy medium somewhere between fucking and fighting.

“Come on,” he said as I continued to hesitate. “Did my father show you his game room?”

“With the pool table and the big TV?” I asked. “I took a peek inside.” Truth was, as welcoming as Glenn had been, I still felt a little awkward staying in his home. I’d mostly confined myself to the bedroom and the pool.

Keir led me down a dark hallway, not bothering with the lights. “In here.”

I followed, though I was suspicious. Why was he being nice, now? Did he feel guilty, or was it just blind jealousy again?

The game room was like something out of a mafia movie—dark wood walls, old fashioned pool table in the center complete with the green hooded light positioned over it, tall bar in the corner. All that was missing was a few wise guys and lingering cigar smoke.

“This is really cool,” I said, running my hand along the green felt. Keir picked up two pool cues off the wall. “I’m not very good.”

He grinned. "I don't mind winning."

I snatched the stick from him with a wry look. That comment didn't deserve a response.

He lifted the triangle rack from the balls and asked, "You want to break?"

"You'd better do it." Knowing my luck, I would miss.

The crack of his stick hitting the white ball echoed through the room. The balls rolled every which way on the table but none came close to falling into a pocket.

"Did we just discover something you aren't good at?" I asked.

"No," he grumbled. "You're up."

I took my shot, sinking a red ball. "Solids," I called, feeling far too proud of myself for doing better than Keir, though it was still early in the game.

Of course, I went and missed my next shot.

Keir circled the table, and I followed closely.
Too much wine
, I realized.
What am I doing?
He bent to line up a shot, and I nudged his hip with mine. "Want me to show you how it's done?"

He looked at me sideways. "Please do."

Blushing, I bent over the table to make a line with my arm, showing him where to aim. "That way. And hit it hard."

"How hard?" Damn. The tone of his voice was going to seduce me all over again.
Is that what he's after?

"Pretty hard. But be careful, too. You don't want the ball to jump."

He chuckled knowingly. His hand brushed the small of my back as he passed me while circling the table. “I’ve just got to find my groove. I’ll beat the pants off of you in a minute.”

I shivered. I’d definitely had too much wine.
I was supposed to be mad at him, dammit!

“You were really mean to me this morning,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. He sank a striped ball with his next hit before replying.

“Yeah. I tend to take offense when I think that someone’s taking advantage of my family.”

I rolled my eyes. “Then why make me stay?” He sank another ball. “I was trying to go home tonight.” I sighed. I was beginning to see a pattern with him—a hot-and-cold, up-and-down sort of rollercoaster. It was no use questioning what the hell it was he wanted—he didn’t even know himself.

“Figured I ought to apologize,” he said with a lazy shrug. He refused to look at me, instead focusing on lining up his next shot.

“Don’t, if you don’t mean it.”

He hit the white ball and sent it careening down the table, missing his target. He sighed. “You’re up.”

I glared at him before focusing on the table. At least playing pool was giving me time to gather my thoughts. Not that I was successful.

I still didn’t know what to do.

There weren’t any solid colored balls in an easy position so I decided to just hit what I could and hope for the best.

Keir stood directly behind me while I bent over and aimed my cue. His body radiated heat, but I froze. “Here,” he said, leaning to place his hands on my arms, “I can help.”

I held my breath as he adjusted my position. His hips brushed my ass and his breath breezed through my hair. “You want to try to ricochet the ball off the edge of the table right there, so it rolls toward your green ball over here.”

“Sounds like more geometry than I can remember,” I mumbled, glancing at him over my shoulder.

He released my arm and his hand strayed down to rest on my waist.

It was as if my whole body was coming to life, awash in sparks and tingles.
I can’t believe this is happening again
. I had to fight the urge to press back against him. “Give it a try,” he said, his voice deeper. He was only pretending to mean the game in front of me; we were definitely playing something else, now.

I pulled back and hit the white ball, sending it rolling exactly as Keir had directed. Sure enough, it bounced off the edge and hit the green ball, sinking it in the corner pocket.

But we didn’t move. “I go again,” I said softly. He spread his hand on my belly and pulled me gently back against him. I held my breath.

“I’m sorry about this morning,” he said, speaking against my ear. “I hated seeing you cry. I didn’t meant what I said. Not the way it came out, at least.”

“It hurt,” I admitted, my voice cracking at the memory.
“Who the fuck would want you?”
“You can’t say things like that to a person.”

“Shh,” he said, caressing my neck with his other hand. “It isn’t true. It was just an all-around shit thing to say and a bad joke.” His lips brushed my ear. “I was just driven insane with jealousy. That fucking guy.” The hand on my belly strayed lower. My breath caught. “Is he your boyfriend now?”

“Coworker,” I said. “Nothing’s happening.”

“You sure?” Keir’s hand strayed lower yet, brushing me between my legs. I bit back a groan and tried not to grind my ass against his pelvis. I wasn’t succeeding. I could feel him growing harder against my lower back. “Remember what I said. That I would own this.” He cupped me between my legs and I hissed. His touch was still like magic. My body didn’t care how angry or confused I’d been, it just wanted him.

Lust and wine clouded my judgment. “You do own it,” I breathed.
But we shouldn’t be doing this
.

His fingers curled, rubbing my swollen sex over my jeans. I moved with him, desperate, wanton. “Say it again.”

We shouldn’t be doing this!
“Keir…” How had he turned me on so quickly and so badly?

His lips meeting the skin of my neck was all that it took to undo me completely. I released a soft moan of relief as I sank against him. His hands felt like they were everywhere, caressing my hips, my breasts, pressing insistently between my legs. A ragged groan escaped him as he rubbed his erection against my ass.

I’d missed his touch so much. My body trembled with need.

“I’ve got to make you come, baby,” he grated, unbuttoning the front of my jeans. “I’ve need to feel it. Need to own it.”

“Yes,” I said, the word catching in my throat. “Please.” I helped him push my jeans down, freeing just one leg before his hand slid between my thighs and found my folds, slick with arousal.
For him
.

He groaned when he felt how wet I was.

We couldn’t undress further. Our bodies pulsed for each other with such desperate longing that we couldn’t take the time. He slid himself free of his jeans, rolled on a condom from his wallet, and was inside me before I could roll enough of the pool balls out of the way to make room for my arms. They bounced and clacked around the table as he slid deep, holding me bent with one hand on the back of my neck.

I cried out for more. I placed my feet further apart and pressed myself back against him, urging him deeper.

He took me so hard, we rocked the entire table. Balls rolled and fell into the pockets on the opposite side as he thrust into me over and over, driving himself hard against every sensitive spot inside my body. I lost myself in it, mindless with an animal lust that only he could bring out in me.

This wasn’t the gentle Keir I’d come to know. This was him on the edge. And I loved it—every surge that drove the breath out of me, scraping my thighs against the hard edge of the table, burning my palms against the felt surface. “Yes, yes, give it to me,” I encouraged, sounding nothing like myself to my own ears.

“Take it,” he grunted. His hand slid low and he circled my clit in time with his rapid rhythm. I rose onto my toes and moaned one long, low note. “Take it all.”

I came hard. I clawed at the table, pushing, pulling, unsure if I was trying to escape his overwhelming touch or if I was trying to deliberately drown myself in it. Waves of pleasure made my body spasm and go limp, just as he followed me over the edge, tensing as he groaned his own release.

I fell limp against the pool table’s surface, my cheek damp with sweat against the green felt.

Then the world spun. Keir lifted me up like I was nothing and carried me over his shoulder with my pants still dangling from one ankle.

“What are you doing?” I giggled as he headed for the stares.

He slapped a hand against my bare ass, making me yelp. The crack echoed through the foyer. “Baby, I’m not done with you yet. Not even close. Not for a long time.”

Hope bloomed in my chest that maybe he meant more than just that very night—hope that I tried my best to ignore. I knew from experience just how badly it would hurt later, when it was lost.

“Keir. Put me down.” He stopped in the middle of the stairs and gently let me slide to my feet. Concern creased his face, so I turned away and pulled my pants back on.

“What is it?” he asked.

“This has been fun, but—”

“But nothing.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me along behind him the rest of the way upstairs. I thought he would head for his room, but he led us inside of mine and shut the door.
In case our parents come home. Oh, God…

“Is it the step-thing, still?” he asked. “People are laughing, but no one really gives a shit. We aren’t doing anything wrong.”

“It doesn’t help,” I said, sinking onto the couch and putting my head in my hands. The cushions sank next to me as he sat, but he didn’t touch me.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he said gently. “It seems like you’re always pulling away.”

“You do it, too,” I said.

“Yeah, but I’m an asshole. You’re not, so that means you’ve got some other reason.”

I leaned away from him. “What does it matter to you, anyway?”

His voice was quiet, but deep, like he was whispering the words to his sadder songs. “You might not believe me, but I do care about you, Cadence.”

This was too much. I wasn’t prepared to deal with any of it. Keir placed his hand on my shoulder and I tried to shake him off.

“Was it that guy?” he asked, “Or some other guy? An old boyfriend?” I pulled my knees up, tucking them against my chest. “Did somebody physically hurt you, Cadence?” I shook my head. “Does it have something to do with your mother?”

Maybe the sex had left me vulnerable, or maybe it was just him, the unexpectedly kind tone of his voice. But something in me broke. I did something for the second time that day that I hadn’t done since I’d moved to LA and left my mother and my old life behind—I started to cry.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Keir

Her soft sobs were breaking my damn heart, but this time, I was almost happy to hear them. Something was bothering her—something she needed to let out. And soft-hearted idiot that I’d become, I wanted to be there for her.