Page 10 of Jealous Stepbrother
I let the question hang, watching the way her fingers tighten on the strap of her bag.
“Because I make it my business to know,” I say, voice low. “Where you sleep. Who you talk to. What streets you walk at night and what time you turn your lights off. I’ve known every address you’ve lived at since the day you left college, Scarlett. And every man who’s looked at you twice. It’s called staying informed.” My mouth curves, slow and unapologetic. “It’s also called making sure no one touches what’s mine.”
I’m close enough to see the pulse race faster at her throat. I clench my fingers to stop from tracing over it, feel her life force beneath my touch. Fuck, it’s been so long. But I want no interruptions when I reclaim what’s mine.
So I wait, while she inhales, her eyes darting all over the place before returning to mine. She attempts affront and heat, but allthat emerges is a gust of sexy breathlessness when she says, “I’m not yours, Asher.”
I smile, slow. She’s so fucking predictable. “You are. You just don’t realize it yet.”
Her arms fold again, tighter this time. “I’m not your pet you can just… relocate.”
“Pet?” I let the word roll in my mouth, then step closer until her back brushes the edge of my conference table. “Pets don’t have portfolios like yours. Pets don’t have an entire career in their hands that I can build or break before breakfast.”
Her lips press into a line. That’s the first crack, the one where she’s not sure if I’m bluffing.
I’m not. And with a thick swallow, she realizes that. Accepts it.
“I like my apartment.”
I know it’s a lie because her pupils flicker left when she says it. She hates the noise, the smell, the paper-thin walls. She hates the shadows in the hallway and the way her lock sticks.
I lean a fraction closer, lowering my voice. “You should never have been there in the first place. I’m not sure what your mom was thinking.”
Her lips purse. “I’m a grown woman, Asher.”
I smile again, let my gaze wander slowly, excruciatingly over her. God, her tits are the right size for my hands. I remember the shape of them better than the sum of money in my bank account. “Sure, you are. But you’re also mine. And I keep what’s mine safe. And since it looks like I have to spell it out, this is where I say that’s non-negotiable.”
Everything I plan to do with her… to her is non-negotiable, but she doesn’t need to know that. Yet. Or… ever.
There’s a flinch. Barely there, but I catch it.
She shifts her weight, breaking eye contact just long enough for me to see the pulse flutter in her throat. “You’re reading into things,” she mutters.
“I’m reading you,” I correct. “And I’ve gotten very good at it.”
She exhales hard, trying to summon that fire again. “Even if I did move in, it wouldn’t mean?—”
“Anything?” I interrupt, smiling. “Sure. Let’s pretend it wouldn’t mean anything. You’ll have your own space. The guest penthouse is soundproofed. Separate entrance, separate kitchen. No one will bother you.” Lies. I plan on bothering her.
A fucking lot. Pun very much intended.
Her eyes narrow. “And you just want me there for… safety?”
“Safety. Convenience. Control.” I don’t bother sugarcoating it. “It’s easier for me to watch you from across the balcony than across the city.”
She shakes her head, but her shoulders dip, the fight bleeding out a little. She’s weighing it, and she knows the smart move is to take what I’m offering.
“Scarlett,” I say softly, “you came back because you had no choice. The sooner you stop pretending otherwise, the easier this gets.”
She looks at me for a long time, searching for something, maybe a weakness, maybe proof I’m bluffing.
She won’t find either.
She doesn’t answer right away. I can see the war playing out behind her eyes—pride against practicality, stubbornness against self-preservation.
Then, finally, she exhales through her nose. “Fine. I’ll move in. Temporarily. Just until the internship’s over.”
I keep my expression neutral, but inside, it’s a hit of adrenaline. She can call it temporary. She can call it whatever she wants. She won’t be leaving.
