Oh, Heavenly Father, please forgive me, for I am about to kill my stepbrother!
“What the hell are you doing in here? Get out!”
Levi is leaning in my open doorway—a door I know I closed when I went to bed last night. Or tried to. It took hours, listening to him and his “friends” laughing and making all kinds of racket, before I finally managed to fall asleep.
Now, he’s standing in my bedroom, half naked, and looking at me like I’m something he wants to kill. Or eat.
My thighs clench at the thought of Levi putting his mouth on me. The last time—no. I shut the thought down before it has a chance to go too far. It’s inappropriate. This whole situation right now is inappropriate.
“Get out!” I shout again, because he just continues to stand there, completely stoic. Unreadable. “Are you high?” Along with the rest of the world, I’ve witnessed the kind of life he leads: late nights, partying, an endless supply of women. The possibility that he’s actually high right now isn’t that far-fetched.
Why does he have to look so damn good, though?
Levi’s shirtless chest moves in a silent huff and a humorless smirk makes his lips twitch. And that damn beard. It’s distracting. I’ve only ever seen him clean shaven, but this look is even better. He looks rough. Dirty. Mountable.
Lifting his arm to his head, he rakes his fingers through his hair, making it messier than it already was. The action makes his bicep flex, showing off a massive bump, and creates a long visual line that draws my gaze down over his sculpted chest and abs to the pair of sweat pants that hang so low, I can see damn near everything.
As my eyes land between his legs, it begins to grow. My throat turns into a desert and I swallow, tearing my eyes away as I cast the inappropriate thoughts the vision inspires away. Or at least I try to. They keep sling shooting back, taunting me. Just look at it. One little peek. No!
It should be illegal to walk around like that. In fact, he should be thrown in jail for assault. I’ll never get the vision of him like this out of my head.
I hear Levi’s soft chuckle and jerk to attention.
“You should see your face right now,” he says, his voice mocking. “You behave like you’ve never seen my dick before, which we both know isn’t true. Or,” he says, his voice pitching low as he pushes off the jamb and stands tall, putting that hard bulge on full display, “maybe you just want another taste.”
Yes, please. The heat in my face deepens. I do want it. I won’t deny that, but I refuse to let him drag me any deeper into the rabbit hole or humiliate me over something we both know we want but can’t have.
“I’m not the one standing in his sister’s room with an erection,” I toss back, throwing my legs over the opposite side of the bed in a desperate need to put distance between us. “Besides, I’ve moved on to bigger and better things.”
Levi’s humor vanishes, his eyes narrowing to slits as the insult hangs like a guillotine between us. I’d be proud of myself, if I wasn’t lying through my teeth.
“That’s good, sis,” Levi says, his voice and expression flattening out. “It’s nice to know you’ve moved on. I always worried you’d turn into a spinster in my absence.”
That s.o.b. “That was never a danger,” I say through clenched teeth. “But it’s good to see that you’ve been living up to everyone’s expectations. You’ve certainly defined what it means to be the son of a billionaire: a sleazy, spoiled, lazy, entitled man whore. Stop me if I missed anything.”
The fire that lights Levi’s eyes burns so strong I feel a niggling of worry—that I’ve gone too far—bleed into my muscles. An imperceptible tremor vibrates through my body as he stabs the crutches into the floor, crossing the room in a matter of seconds to stand over me. Being injured certainly hasn’t taken away his ability to be scary. He’s seething, his nostrils flaring as the breaths saw in and out of his lungs, resembling a raging bull.
“Fuck you, Vista,” he seethes. “What do you know about me? Nothing,” he fills in automatically. “And how could you, when you ran off in the middle of our parents’ wedding and are only just now coming back?”
Incensed, I glare openly now, resentful of him bringing up the past. He knows why I left. What was I supposed to do? He’d rejected me, and I was on my way to college anyway. I’d just sped up the process, saving us all a lot of headache.
“You’re right, maybe I don’t know anything about you, but you know what? I don’t want to. So if you’re worried I’ll want to stick around and find out, don’t be. As soon as this month is over, I’m gone,” I shoot back, getting in his face. I have plans—big ones—and none of them involve hanging around here any longer than I absolutely have to. Levi Black is a means to an end, that’s all.
Bringing his nose to mine, Levi looks into my eyes. “I. Can’t. Wait.”
The anger with which he says this twists something inside my chest. I don’t want to acknowledge what it might be, so instead, I scrunch my nose up at the fetid smell of stale alcohol on his breath. “You need to brush your teeth.”
Like a total pig, he opens his mouth wider and huffs in my face, making me want to vomit. “My breath might not be minty fresh, but at least it doesn’t smell like dirty ass.”
“Oh, do you speak from experience? Do you make a habit of going around smelling people’s asses?” I toss back.
“Only when I’m chin deep in pussy and they’re sucking my cock, princess.”
I feel my eyes widen and my jaw drop. A cruel chuckle rumbles deep in Levi’s chest and he breaks out in a triumphant grin as he backs toward the door. I hate him. So damn much I could spit nails.
“While sparring with you has been fun,” he says jovially as he shifts toward the door, “you’re not the only one who has work to do. So I suggest you grab a shower and meet me downstairs in an hour so we’re not late.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I lift an eyebrow to hide my surprise. “What constitutes ‘work,’ exactly?”
“Ah, now that, dear sister, is a surprise. But rest assured. I’ll make sure you put those fingers to good work.”
***
“Change. Your. Fucking. Clothes, Vista. Now.”
I can’t believe she thought she could get away with it. After leaving her room to get ready for the day ahead, I jumped in the shower, wrapping the lower half of my leg in plastic to keep the cast dry, and then struggled some more to get dressed, and still made it back downstairs with time to spare. Massive time to spare.
Women and their beauty regimens. I’ve never understood how any one person could take so damn long on their appearance and come out looking totally natural.
That’s Vista. She’s natural from the top of her walnut brown head to the tips of her unpolished toes. But somehow, she manages to not only look stunningly beautiful, but take for-freaking-ever to do it.
It’s the clothes. She’s made a perfectly ordinary pair of black skinny jeans and a transparent black and purple striped cap-sleeved top look like lingerie. It’s entirely inappropriate for where we’re headed, and I have an insatiable urge to march up to her and tear every thread off of her.
“What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?” she asks, looking down at herself.
“Nothing, if you’re going for the biker whore look,” I snark back. I don’t know why I do it. Pressing her buttons is a knee-jerk reaction that I can’t seem to get a handle on. But it doesn’t matter anyway. Vista is cold as ice. Case in point, the way she’s looking at me now. It could freeze a man’s nuts off.
“I do not look like that,” she bites back. “And I’m not changing.” The way she says this while lifting that stubborn chin says the conversation is closed. I don’t like it, and I consider fighting her on it, but I remind myself that I’m not her boyfriend or her daddy. I know when to back down and when to start a fight, and we just don’t have time for a fight today.
Crossing the floor in long strides that make her hips sway and my jeans tight, Vista shoves past me and rips open the refrigerator door. “Where are we going?”
Pivoting around, I lean back against the counter to relieve the pressure the crutches put on my underarms and continue drinking my glass of milk as I watch her. She has her head in the fridge, her arm slung over the top of the open door, and the position shoves her perky ass up and out. Goddamn.
Running my tongue over my teeth, I can’t help wondering what she’s like in bed now. Wild? Or tame? As teenagers, Vista was the shy type, letting everyone else call the shots while she followed. The one time I got her underneath me, she was exactly the same—meek, malleable, easy to please, and eager to follow directions. But she seems different now. More confident.
“I already told you,” I begin, addressing her question before I forget that one was asked. “It’s—”
“A surprise. Yeah, yeah. I heard you the first time,” she remarks. Straightening, she slams the door shut and rounds on me. “Don’t you have anything other than beer, milk, and condiments in this place? I’m starving.”
“It’s a bachelor pad, princess. Any food that gets eaten here is ordered in.” With a sigh, my eyes travel over her slight frame. She’s slim, but curvy. Healthy. Not like the stick thin chicks I usually find in my bed the morning after a bender. They’re all sharp angles, but it’s not their curves I’m looking for anyway. “Don’t worry. I’m sure we can scrounge up some celery sticks when we get there.”
Her face bunches up at my suggestion and she smacks her lips in distaste. “Do I look like a girl who eats celery for breakfast?”
“I don’t know,” I tell her as I turn and lead the way to the door. “Usually women with flat asses are on a two-hundred-calorie-a-day diet.”
She stops mid step and stares up at me with fire dancing in her eyes. “I don’t have a flat ass, you jackass. You’re confusing me with your bed partners.”
“Have you ever heard of Sir Mix-a-lot, Vista?” I ask as I swing out into the hall and call for the elevator while she locks up behind us. When she steps up next to me, I deliberately lean into her so that the entire right side of my body rubs against the left side of hers. Immediately, she sidesteps, and I nearly burst into laughter. I never expected teasing her could be so much fun.
We pause to wait for the elevator and I use the time to lean down, close enough that my lips skim the shell of her ear. Her lips part, and I hear her sharp intake of breath which only makes this moment even more enjoyable as I whisper, “My anaconda don’t want none….” I trail off, humming the rest of the tune.
It takes her a moment, and then she lowers her chin to her chest and her shoulders begin to shake with silent laughter. When she lifts her head, her face is tinged scarlet and she’s wearing a wide smile that threatens to stop my heart.
I’m shocked. I expected her to freak out and start screaming, or rear back and hit me, because that’s what uptight princesses like her generally do. But this is a pleasant surprise. Maybe Vista isn’t the ice queen she projects. I wonder how much of that rebellious streak that led her into my arms the first time is still left in her.
We step into the elevator together and silently watch as the numbers count down. It’s so quiet in here that every breath she takes registers in my ears. I watch her from the corner of my eye, unable to stop looking at her. I still can’t believe she’s here. I never thought I’d see her again, and I’d always imagined that if I did, it would be under duress. We didn’t end on a good note, which is entirely my fault, and I certainly never expected that I might actually begin to like her. Again.
“What do you want to eat?” I ask her as we grow closer to the ground floor. “I’ll swing by someplace on the way.”
The elevator slows to a crawl, and when the doors slide open, I throw out a crutch and hold them there, waiting for her to pass through first. Then she purses those pale pink lips that I know are going to star in many midnight fantasies as she walks out.
“I want eggs. And bacon,” she adds as I fall into step with her. “Oh, and toast with cinnamon butter. And coffee. The real stuff, not instant.” She makes a face and it’s so adorable on her, I find myself smiling.
A girl who actually eats. I’m impressed. “Are you going to be able to eat all that?”
“Please, that’s a snack compared to what I usually eat.”
I find myself laughing as I lead us past the front desk. It’ll be nice to share a meal with someone who doesn’t complain about carbs and blowing their diet for once.
“You’re paying, right?” Vista’s chocolate brown eyes lift to mine as we push through the turnstiles and cross the sidewalk to my car that’s already waiting for me. I nod my thanks to the valet as I lean down to open the passenger door.
“I thought you were getting this one,” I tease her.
“Excuse me? Who’s the famous soccer player slash trust fund baby here?” A frown crosses her face as she looks down at the car then back up at me. “I hope you don’t think you can drive with that thing on.”
“Hasn’t stopped me yet,” I inform her with a confident lift of my chin.
Her mouth flaps open and she shakes her head in disbelief. “I don’t know why I expected you to be reasonable...” she mutters. Pausing with one foot in the door, she grips the top of the frame and stares up at me with a challenging lift to her brow. “If you get us killed, I’m going to strangle you.”
“Oh, and how do you plan to do that? I’ll be dead.”
I grin down at her and her eyes narrow as if annoyed, but I see the amusement in them. She likes it when I tease her, and I’m shocked to realize that I’m more than willing to keep doing it if it means keeping that smile on her face.
“You’re picking up the tab this time,” she tells me. With a wink, she drops into the seat and I close the door, shaking my head as I round the front of the car and climb into the driver’s seat.
When I rolled out of bed this morning with a mile long headache, cotton mouth, and the prospect of having to deal with an unwanted guest, I didn’t think this day could get much worse. But then I found myself standing in her room and, well...I have to admit, this day is looking pretty damn good from where I’m sitting.
I glance over at Vista who’s riding shotgun in a car that’s normally reserved for myself alone. She has her face turned away from me, staring out the window at the passing scenery and bobbing her head to the music drifting from the speakers. The morning sunlight filtering through the skyscrapers catches in her hair, setting off the strands of gold and red that run throughout and make me want to reach out and touch it to see if it’s real. She’s gorgeous. Perfect in every way.
Yeah, things are definitely looking good from where I’m sitting.