Free Stepbrother Studs Kevin: A Stepbrother Romance by Selena Kitt Page B

about ten feet away before delivering a punch into the guy’s back that knocked his legs out from under him. Her attacker lay groaning on the floor as Kevin strode towards the guy behind her. Her captor didn’t hang around to get hit. Palms out in surrender, he scuttled over to his collapsed buddy, pulled him to his feet, and scrambled awkwardly under his weight towards a blue Chrysler on the other side of the parking lot.
    Kevin stood in front of her like a barrier until the car had driven out of sight, his shoulders still heaving, fists bunched. His veins—long and solid down the biceps punching out the short sleeves on his black shirt—were raised on the back of his hands. Shock and imbalance caught up with Evie, and she sank to the ground behind him, landing hard on her knees. A cold mist of sweat sprung up on her face.
    Kevin hunkered down in front of her, moving her quickly so her legs were pulled out in front and then gently pushed her head down between her knees. She sagged sideways for a split second, his palm on her face the only thing keeping her from passing out altogether.
    “Evie, look at me!”
    She couldn’t just yet. She felt her face being taken in both his hands and looked up into frightened eyes as he tilted her back upright.
    “Talk to me! Did they hurt you?”
    “No… I—I’m shaking, that’s all.”
    Kevin ran his hands over her, checking her head for soft spots and bones for breaks. After the frisk, he rested his forearms on his knees, exhaling slowly down to the ground. His hands shook. When he looked up, his face was hard with anger. “You scared the crap out of me.”
    She didn’t have the energy to explain about Ryan creeping her out—there was no fight left in her. She bunched her knees up against her chest and wrapped her arms around them as a barrier.
    “Can’t you take instructions just once?” Kevin stood, flinging his hands into the air. “Why take these stupid risks for the sake of ‘living your own life’? It’s like you want something godawful to happen to you!”
    She got to her feet, trying not to cry, just wanting to go home, drink a bottle of wine and have a bath. He’d managed to stay tender and protective for about a minute before ripping her a new one. All she wanted was for him to hold her, and he made her feel like the biggest pain in the ass, ever. He looked at her, clearly anguished, and she needed to put space between them before she broke down completely and he added emotional blackmail to her list of personality crimes.
    “Evie… what’s going on with you?”
    “Thanks for the rescue. If you drop me off at my place, I swear I won’t call you ag—”
    “You’re coming back with me, kiddo. We need to talk.”
    “I just want to go home.” She shook her head violently. No way could she handle a night of forceful home truths.
    “And do what? Drink half a bottle of vodka in the shower, then pass out? No.” He clamped his arm around her back and hooked the other under her knee, then strode off towards his truck with her.
    “Put me down!” Her struggles were pointless—Kevin could toss eighty-pound logs around like they were pillows. “Kevin! I don’t need anyone else giving me a hard time today!”
    “What you need is a meal. You weigh about as much as damn beansprout.”
    He put her down at the shotgun door of his Velociraptor, keeping an iron grip around her shoulders while he opened up. Then he lifted her under the armpits and pretty much dropped her into the seat, stepping up to push her back against the rest as he buckled her up. She put a hand up to fight him off but he closed his lightly round her wrist. To her shame, his thumb and forefinger wrapped easily just below the very prominent bone, and overlapped considerably.
    “Evie…” He looked right at her and sighed. “Just don’t fight me on this one thing. Okay?”
    She kept her arms folded and teeth gritted against saying something unwise all the way back to Oakwood.
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