Page 43 of Tainted Love
Pulling myself from the couch, I search for my stepsister. I don’t have to go far, finding her at the kitchen sink with a glass of water in her hand, her back turned towards me as she looks out over the pool.
I run my eyes over her perfect body. This girl’s curves drive me fucking wild, and they’re accentuated by her tight running shorts and sports bra. My hands itch to explore every inch of her, and my dick begs to feel her choking him.
I clear my throat and watch her body stiffen. “How was your work out, Duchess?”
“Fine,” she chokes out.
I push my hand through my hair and force myself to stay across the room. I don’t trust that I won’t pin her against the counter and chase a repeat of last night. “Can we talk?”
Bea lets out a soft snort of laughter, but still refuses to turn and face me. “Youwant to talk?”
“Yes,” I grit out, clenching my fists. Fuck, she brings out the best and the worst in me. “We need to talk about this fundraiser.”
“I’m not going,” she says.
“This is about more than just whatever is going on between us. Forever Summer could really use this opportunity.”
“Whatisgoing on between us, Elias? As right now, I feel like shit because of what we did last night. We’re playing with fire here, and I don’t want to hurt my dad.” She pauses, dropping her head as she places her glass on the sink. “Or Elena and Attie for that matter.”
Fuck, this has moved into dangerous territory.
“What do you want me to say? We’re consenting adults, Bea. We did nothing wrong.”
“Nothing wrong?” She finally spins around to face me, fire blazing in her hazel orbs. “Nothing wrong? We slept together! Not to mention you eating my fucking pussy on the freaking bench over there.” She sweeps her hand in the direction of the marble benchtop in the middle of the room between us. I can’t help the way my lips tug up hearing her say the words ‘eating my fucking pussy’. “This isn’t funny, Elias. Everythingabout this is wrong, and it needs to stop before we hurt our family.”
Needing to get this conversation back on track, I give her what she thinks she wants to hear. “If that’s what you really want, Duchess, but then you have to agree to go to the fundraiser with me. This isn’t about us, it’s about Forever Summer. We’ve busted our arses to build this band for six years. Kill, Ash and Wyatt deserve this break.” I swallow around the lump in my throat. I owe my brother’s my fucking life, and I need to do this for them. “Please, Bea. Just agree to come to the fundraiser with me, and I’ll do whatever you want.”
Indecision wars on her face as she nibbles on her bottom lip. Fuck, I wish it was me sucking that lip into my mouth and hearing her sweet sounds as I?—
“Fine,” she says, pulling me from my fantasy.
“Fine?” I repeat.
“Fine, we’ll go to the fundraiser. But I’m doing this for the band, not you.”
“Yeah, sure. Whatever you say.”
Bea narrows her eyes. “I mean it, Elias. Keep your hands to yourself and be on your best behaviour. I do not need my granddad getting suspicious. From now on, we are nothing but stepsiblings.”
“Sure thing, Duchess.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“Not a chance, Duchess,” I say with a wink. Spinning on my heel, I leave her in the kitchen before she can say another word.
I can’t wipe the grin off my face as I head upstairs to the music room. After six long years, this could finally be the chance Forever Summer has been waitingfor.
THE HOUSE IS empty when I wake up on Sunday. I don’t know where Bea is, but I think it’s best I keep my distance until after the fundraiser. The band is counting on me. I’m lounging in bed, experimenting with some new music when the doorbell rings.
I contemplate ignoring it, but the opportunity to mess with her douchebag ex—if it’s him again—is too good to pass up.
But there’s no one there when I open the front door.
Instead, laying on the mat is an envelope and a black rose. I glance around, but the street is quiet. I can’t see anyone, but I can feel their heavy gaze. Kneeling quickly to pick them up, I hurry back inside and lock the door. Whoever it is must be watching the house to know Bea isn’t home, and I would answer the door.
I wait until I’m in my bedroom before ripping open the envelope. A folded piece of paper with a typed note is wrapped around some photographs. It reads:
Looks like she may not be yours after all.
