Page 88 of Pretty Savages

He laughs, and my stomach clenches nervously. Maybe getting high wasn't the best idea. Especially when my hormones are already fifty shades of fucked up.

"Do you still not like me?" I ask wearily.

Blake looks at me perplexed. "You're growing on me. Like a bad rash. I like you a little."

"Only a little?" I feign feeling hurt and he snorts.

"You're alright. Even if you do seem to have this bad habit of seducing your stepbrothers."

I roll my eyes. "They started it. And even if I did, I obviously am not that great at it. You seem to be immune to my charms."

Blake looks at me, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Why do you think that?"

"Because you don't find me attractive clearly," I assert, wrinkling my nose.

He straightens up. "Is that what you think? That I don't find you attractive?"

I nod. "It's okay though."

Blake shrugs. "I think you're attractive."

I pause, looking at him bewildered. "Bullshit."

"I'm not bullshitting. Stop fetching for compliments."

Right. Well, that's news to me.

I reach for a drink, trying to keep my face neutral.

Blake watches me closely. "What?"

"Nothing. Just processing the news."

He reaches a hand out, cupping my cheek. "I like your eyes. They're my favorite shade of blue."

I gaze back at him, shocked. I don't trust myself right now, and the danger system in my mind blares as I shiver under his touch.

"Thanks," I murmur, my hand wrapping around his wrist. We stare at each other, the seconds passing as no one says anything.

Then, before I realize I'm even moving, I shuffle forward on my knees, and press my lips to his. Blake's hand on my face stiffens before he grabs me firm, pulling me closer. He kisses me back, our lips moving together as we crash into each other.

Our mouths get more frantic, our tongues finding each other's as they battle for dominance. Blake wraps his arms around my waist, holding me firmly against him as I wrap my arms around his neck. He lays me down, holding himself above me as we pull at each other in desperation.

I push my hands up the back of his shirt, my nails dragging down his skin. His muscles twitch under my hands and when I reach the waistband of his boxer at the bottom of his spine, realization dawns on him.

"Shit," he hisses, pulling back.

My hair is sprayed out underneath me, my lips swollen as I stare at him in confusion. "What?"

Blake pushes back, moving off the bed as he runs a hand through his hair. "We can't do this."

I sit up, hurt crossing my face. "Why? What's wrong?"

He looks at me dejectedly. "Idofind you attractive. But I can't do this. You're my stepsister, and I'm not my brothers. I just can't."

I look away, rejection spiralling through me. "You're right. We shouldn't."

"I'm sorry," he says, letting out a sigh. "I'm going to go. Goodnight, Rylee."

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