Page 36 of Jealous Stepbrother
Can’t fight the way my chest aches under the weight of it. The way my heart yearns for more of it.
When his fingers slip up to shampoo my wet hair, I feel something twist low in my belly. He washes me from head to toe, then after he undresses and washes himself, he wraps me in a towel and walks us to my bedroom.
“You’re mine, Scarlett,” he says, quiet enough to make me lean in to hear. “Every day. Even like this.”
He presses his lips to my forehead again.
And I hate how much that undoes me.
CHAPTER 9
KICK IT UP A NOTCH
Asher
Itake Monday and Tuesday off.
The crew can survive without me for forty-eight hours.
Scarlett can’t.
I didn’t forget how bad her periods get, but it was a memory tucked away behind a million others. How she tries to pretend she’s not feeling fragile when all she wants is comfort and pampering.
We don’t go anywhere.
I order heat packs, pain meds, and her favorite takeout—yes, I know exactly what it is, down to the sauce she likes on the side. And when I catch her trying to escape her bed for the third time, I lock the door, pocket the key, turn on Netflix, and pull her right back down into my arms and flick the next movie on.
Rom-com.
One she’s watched so many times she can quote it line for line. She doesn’t even notice that I’ve memorized which scenes make her laugh and which ones make her tear up.
She laughs once—really laughs—and the sound knocks something loose in my chest. It’s better than any design award I’ve ever had.
On Tuesday night, she falls asleep with her head in my lap, the flicker of the screen turning her hair to molten fire. I stroke it back from her face and tell myself my heart skipping every other beat is absolutely one hundred fucking percent normal.
By Wednesday, the fragile edge is gone.
It’s been slowly replaced with something else.Awareness.Hunger. That expanding obsession now laced with heavier doses of desperation.
We’re back in work mode but we’re still at home.
We work side by side in the studio.
Every time she leans over the table, I catch her scent, the curve of her neck, the sway of her hips, and I know I can’t wait anymore.
She catches me staring more than once. Her lips part like she’s about to say something, but then she bites them instead.
That bite nearly ends me.
But when I finally pull her into my arms, for the first time, there’s zero resistance.
My heart jumps, even as I try to maintain an even keel. “Feeling better?”
She nods. “Much. Thanks for looking after me.”
I smile, deliberately lacing it with a hint of wickedness. “I take care of what’s mine. Best way to keep all engines purring.”
She reels back, ready to bite my head off, but whatever she sees in my face makes her relax. But that ease doesn’t last.
