Page 17 of Jealous Stepbrother
“Stepbrother,” I bite out. “And you can’t tell them not to look at me. That’s insane.”
His teeth flash in something feral. “You’re a design intern. First lesson you should know by heart by now. Details matter. Did I say they couldn’t look at you?”
I glare. “You basically threatened to rip their eyes out if they did.”
“No, princess. I said they couldn’t look at you in any way butprofessionally.”
“That’s still—” I sputter, “—insane. They weren’t even…” My words fade away when his smile fades abruptly.
“You think I didn’t see Zeke checking out your ass the second you turned around after shaking his hand? Or Oscar grinning like a Cheshire fucking cat when you complimented his tattoos, then staring at your tits while you were still talking?”
My mouth drops open. “They…didn’t.”
His nostrils flare. “They did. Even fucking Morgan, who has a wife and two kids at home, looked at your damn mouth like she wants to test how soft it is.”
I shiver under the force of his icy fury. And under the force of something else. Something primitive and carnal and…Jesus, does his display of manic jealousy actually turn me on?
Before I can argue, or think up something to counteract everything insane thing I’m feeling, he moves—fast.
One second I’m standing by the drafting table, the next his hands are on my waist, lifting me like I weigh nothing and pinning me against the cool plaster of the office wall.
His body cages mine, solid heat pressing in from every angle.
“You know,” I mutter, my voice sharper than I intend, “Zeke’s smile was…nice. Maybe I should work with him instead. He seemed…easier to deal with.”
His eyes flare like I’ve just set fire to the building.
“Go on, baby sis. Say that again. I don’t think I quite heard you right the first time.”
A trace of fear and panic whistles through me. But irrationally, it’s immediately doused by the bolt of electric thrill at the deranged look in my brother—stepbrother’seyes.
“You’re being irrational, Asher.”
“On the contrary, I’m beingextremelygenerous and fair. Drawing lines clearly so no one is idiotic enough to cross them.” He watches me for another charged second, then his fingers tighten on my waist, digging into my flesh.
I’ll probably bruise, but another absurd thought lands in my addled brain.
I don’t care. I want his marks on me.
“Or do you want to be ogled? Do you want my employees staring at your tits and ass, and…” he pauses for a moment, sucks in a long breath, “your mouth, wondering what it’ll be like to kiss you? To invite you to the bar, get a few drinks inside you, see if you’ll loosen up long enough to let them find out? Is that what you want, princess?”
His eyes are the color of tropical thunderstorms and I sense he’s on the edge of whatever rabid and intense feeling is eating him up.
Jealousy.
Possessiveness.
Feral and depraved and untethered.
I caused that.
Under normal circumstances, I’d venture to tell him he’s overreacting. But looking into Asher’s eyes right now, I know in my bones that would be the completely wrong thing to say.
So I purse my lips. Shake my head.
“Good,” he snarls. “Now, strip.”
CHAPTER 5
