Page 58 of My Brother's Enemy
“You don’t mean that.” He still glowered, but it was lessening.
“The fuck I don’t.” I took a step toward him. “Get. Out.”
He didn’t move, his eyes tracing my movements. He bent down so he could see right into my eyes. One more inch and my chest would brush against his.
I had no bra on.
I was suddenly aware of that fact.
When I got home, I’d pulled on the clothes on the top of my dresser—a Grays hoodie and my tiny shorts. I hadn’t expected guests. I only wanted to get drunk, numb some of the pain, and sleep. I really wanted to sleep. I always struggled with that, but it’d been worse lately.
As if following my thoughts, Tyler noted, “Morty said you’ve been skating every night.”
I shrugged, taking a step away from him, because this was pointless. Tyler wasn’t going to leave until he took his pound of flesh, whatever that meant for him.
He grabbed my arm.
I froze, looking down at his hold. “What are you doing?”
His thumb began stroking my skin, and he took the rum from me, placing it on the table. “I hate your family.” He tugged me against him, and I could feel how hard his dick was.
I looked down.
He cupped my cheek, tilting me back to look at him. Holding me in place, he slowly, purposefully, directed me backward until I hit the wall. He followed, his body against mine, but he was so still, watching me with a cold gleam in his eyes. His finger moved to rest over my pulse point, holding my chin in place. He pressed against my carotid. “I don’t think you understand the magnitude of how much I loathe your family members.”
“I have an idea,” I said, my heart beginning to spike. “I was around back then.”
“You see.” He leaned over me, his gaze now jumping from my eyes to my mouth. “That’s the part I can’t understand. Becausewhere were you? I never heard of a Connors sister. Your brothers are huge assholes. I would’ve heard if they had a weak spot.”
Anger flamed hot in me. I shoved him back…or tried. “I’m no one’s weak spot.”
His fingers pressed harder against my chin. He growled, ducking his head, and I felt his words against my neck. “I’m starting to think you might be mine.”
I stilled. What did that mean? “Tyler?”
His hand suddenly found my hair, fisted a handful of it, and tipped my head backward. I cried out in surprise, but it didn’t hurt me.
My core throbbed. I wanted him. He wassucha dick, but Iwantedhis dick.
He continued to glare at me with such hatred, pure loathing. “I don’t know the situation with you and your brothers, but tonight, I don’t care.” He opened his mouth, tasting my neck. I gasped, surging against him. “Not right now.” His hand slid down and grabbed under my leg, lifting me, giving him better access to grind against me.
I bit back a moan because it felt so good. “You stopped talking to me.” I evaded his kiss when he lifted his head, his mouth searching for mine.
His gaze met mine, hot with repressed need and frustration and lust. “Because I’m pissed. I was about to open up to you, and then suddenlyyou’rethe enemy.”
“You’re my brother’s enemy.” Both of them. I was their enemy as well. “That’s why I told you.” My annoyance was dissipating, replaced by a frenzied desperation for him to shut up. I wanted his hands on me. Touching me. “I wanted you to know who my family was if we were going to continue the way we were going.”
“Well, we’re not,” he snapped. His jaw clenched, and I could see a vein pulsing there.
“Your actions tonight say otherwise.”
He broke, lifting me with a snarl, and I yelped, wrapping my arms around his neck. He dropped me on the bed and lowered himself on top of me. He tugged my hoodie off and tossed it to the side. He caught the side of my jaw in his hand and glowered down at me. “I want to fuck you.” He waited for my permission.
I flushed, my entire body a volcano for him. “Now you’re asking my permission?”
“I’m an asshole.”
“That’s been established,” I shot back.
