Page 9 of Jealous Stepbrother
I force myself to concentrate, to take it one step at a time, and not grab and devour the way I want to.
“I need this internship,” she repeats, and there’s that tremor in her voice she tries to hide. The one that tells me she’s already halfway to where I want her.
I maintain my expert poker face and the thick, primitive roar building in my chest.
Her lipstick is softer than I remember from her nineteenth birthday, but it’s still the kind that makes me want to smear it, get my favorite scarlet delight beneath.
“I know, you already said that. And I believe I told you you can have it. Are you ready to hear that condition now?”
She freezes. The stubborn set of her jaw is almost enough to distract me from the way her chest rises just a fraction faster.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” she says. “If I stay, it’s on my terms. Not yours.”
I chuckle, low and unhurried. “There’s the door, sweetheart. You’ve walked through it once today. Feel free to use it again. I quite enjoyed the view last time. That sweet little ass bounce when you’re stomping away in those heels…” I trail off, letting my eyes drift briefly over her—deliberately—before returning to her face. “I wouldn’t mind a repeat of it.”
Her nostrils flare. “You can’t talk to me like that.”
“Who’s going to stop me, sweetheart?” I ask softly, almost bored.
Her lips press together, and for a second, I think she might bolt. Instead, she shifts her weight from one foot to the other, arms crossing tightly over her chest. “You’re disgusting.”
“Maybe.” I turn away from her, returning to the conference table where I flip open the leather-bound portfolio she left on the edge of my desk.
Her work spreads out before me in sharp lines and unexpected curves—designs with more bite than anything I’veseen from someone at her stage. My fingers trace one sketch without touching the paper.
I watch her from the corner of my eye.
She’s tense, but there’s heat there too. A silent dare in the way she stands her ground. Curiosity also. And a hunger, professional not carnal, although I know that’s lurking just beneath her surface. My baby stepsister is a feisty brat with her lust.
And heaven help me but I can’t wait to stoke that fire.
“You’ve been busy,” I murmur, pretending to study a page while really studying her. “These are far better than I expected.”
“I didn’t ask for your approval,” she says heatedly, but I see her squirm, restrain herself from coming closer.
I smirk without looking up. “No. You came here for it anyway.”
Her breath hitches, barely audible. She looks away first. Good. She’s still learning.
I want to close the distance, to back her up against the glass until she admits she’s mine, but that would be too easy. I’ve waited four years. I can wait a little longer.
“Stay and I’ll hone your talent until it’s sharper than anything this city’s ever seen. Sharp enough to cut them, and sharp enough to cut me if you dare.”
She chews on her inner bottom lip, a mulling tic she hasn’t outgrown. One she has no idea throws up a picture of her sucking on a piece of candy. Or my finger. Or my?—
“Fine,” she says finally. “I’ll stay. But I’m not agreeing to anything else until we discuss exactly what I want from this.”
There it is, what she believes is her olive branch. I almost laugh. My little princess believes she has some sort of leverage here. She doesn’t. Not yet. But letting her believe she does gives me a foothold.
“Fair enough,” I say slowly, snapping the portfolio shut. “We’ll discuss it.” I let the pause stretch, revel in her breathless wariness, then add, “First step, you move out of that shitty studio in Queens,” I say with deliberate distaste.
Her brows lift. She blinks once, like she’s not sure she heard me right. Then that chin tilts, defiance flashing in her eyes. “That’s not happening. And also… why?”
It’s adorable that she looks genuinely puzzled.
“Because it’s a dump,” I say flatly. “Because your landlord’s a crook, your locks are older than you are, and I know half the neighbors have police records longer than my arm. And because the last time I drove past, I counted three guys on your block who’d sell you for parts if they thought they could get away with it.” I step toward her, just close enough to feel her breath. “You move out of that place, and in with me. Today.”
This time her breath catches. “Again, why? And how do you know all of that about my living situation?”
