we can at least be friends?”
“I don't need more friends,” I snap. “Not friends I grab ass with. Not friends I want to lock lips with, leaving my marks on their skin. I don't need any friends who aren't going to turn into fuck buddies – and we don't have a chance. There's no way I'm gonna be your first fuck. I'm not screwing up your head and leaving you with the lifelong knowledge that the first man you spread your legs for was your own fucking stepbrother.”
“Screwing up? Screwing up?! ” She's got fire on her lips when she runs after me, digging her nails into my shoulder. “What do you think happened the other night? We were so close, Chris. You can't deny it. You're the first man who ever got his hands down there. Do I look screwed up to you? Well?”
Crazy confirmed.
Fucking shit. I don't know how to answer that without breaking her heart.
“We didn't know. It was a mistake, nothing more. Now, you'll agree this truth and dare shit's a bad idea, and I need to get the hell out of here before we piss ourselves off more. Sorry it's gotta be like this, Delia. There's somebody in this town for you out there. Good luck.”
I get about ten steps away when I hear her scream.
“I'm not the one who needs it! Just go ahead and run, you fucking coward. You're right – this was a mistake.” Tears are streaming down her hot red cheeks now, and her arm flaps erratically, hurling her empty wine glass at me.
It shatters on the pool deck with a loud echo.
Coward, huh? If she were a dude, I'd already have her on the ground, one hand on her throat and the other in a fist, knocking teeth out.
She's upset, I remind myself. She's just my stupid, naïve stepsister. One more spitfire who caused my cock to ache, even if she's a little better at it than most.
Nothing more.
I walk away, and this time I don't stop. I'm sober enough to run up the long staircase without breaking my damned neck, and that's all I do before I slam the door to my room.
I need to sleep this bullshit off. In the morning, before she's up, I'll be gone, taking my last look at this insufferable mansion forever. This time, there's nothing that'll bring me back.
I can fuck chicks with a little crazy. I can fuck my own stepsister too, especially when she's hot and willing and wanting.
But I can't fuck my virgin stepsis, no matter how bad every dark, primal urge inside me wants to mount her like no other man ever will. Even I have limits.
I can't leave poison and serious heartbreak in her head the minute after I'm spent. And I can't let her greedy little nails dig me deeper, trying to pull me into some fucked up, impossible relationship, the kind I know she'll want after I've burned the feel of my dick into her brain for life.
V: Over a Ledge (Delia)
I played with fire, and I got burned.
The whole idea was stupid. Idiotic. Devastating.
It takes me a long time to head upstairs, telling a servant to sweep up the broken glass on the way in. I take a long, hot shower, and then I settle down in front of my computer, desperate for a new idea.
There's a new message from the prof. He's needling me about my thesis again, telling me I'd better move and give him some meat. He says the SEAL idea I barely mentioned to him sounds good.
My stomach forms knots. I close the laptop and crash for the night, hating my fucking life.
I just need to get away. There's a fog wrapped around my body and soul. Travel always helps clear it.
Dad has airline perks for the entire family. I can take first class anywhere, and I'm strongly tempted to hop the red eye up to Washington or even Alaska for a week, explore the parks there and forget all about my infuriating stepbrother.
But I can't seriously think about it yet. Not while the asshole is still in this house, teasing me with the SEAL stuff and his own wicked good looks.
What the hell's wrong with him, anyway? I'd have never gone all the way, but if I did, shouldn't most guys want a virgin? I can't understand why he