Bad Romance

by Jen McLaughlin

“If?”

  “Like I said.” I lifted a shoulder. “I’m trying to make my own choices.”

  He stepped back, taking his hand with him. The muscles in between my shoulders bunched immediately, as if protesting the loss. But at the same time, I let out a sigh of relief. When he touched me like that, it made it hard to remember he was my stepbrother. “Have you ever done anything for yourself, just because you wanted to?”

  “Yes.” I swallowed another sip of beer and held it out to him. He took it, studying me as he lifted it to his mouth and took a long drink. “Once.”

  His nostrils flared, and he let out a short laugh. “Kissing me doesn’t count.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you were practically a baby, and I took advantage of you that night, and we both know it.” He winced. “Again, so sorry.”

  I ignored the stab of pain his truthful words brought me. “I also moved here when I started sophomore year because I didn’t want to have Daddy breathing down my back anymore. That was for me.”

  He nodded. “Did you suggest this place, or did he?”

  “He did.” I walked over to the stainless-steel fridge and leaned against it, frowning at the dark maple cabinets. “I wanted a dorm, but he said—oh.”

  “Yeah. Oh.” He smirked and set the now-empty beer down. “That doesn’t really count, either.”

  I frowned. “Yeah, I guess not.”

  He smiled and scratched his head. Without really meaning to, I watched the way his biceps and pecs flexed and moved as he did so, making my fingers itch to touch. He skimmed the back of his knuckles over my cheek, barely touching me, but I felt it down to my core.

  “Tell you what.” He caught my fingers. “I have a job for you.”

  I swallowed hard, because the way his fingers felt against my skin was startling. There was no other word for it. “Hmm?”

  “I want you to do something for me.” He paused. “Wait, scratch that. Not for me. For you. And only for you.”

  I laughed uneasily, not sure where he was going with this. “What do you want me to do?”

  “For the first time in your life, do something you shouldn’t do. Do something you’ve always wanted to do, but that you know you’re not supposed to. Kind of like by that pool, only I won’t be included this time. Do it with yourself.” He smiled at me, stepping back. It wasn’t far enough. I could still smell him all over me. “Do something bad, and love it.”

  Little did he know, I had already decided to do that two days ago, after seeing Derek with someone else. But there was only one thing I wanted to do for myself right now that was forbidden, that was “bad.” And if I thought he might want to do it, too, nothing would stop me. Because there was only one thing I wanted, even though I knew I shouldn’t. Only one thing filled me with desire, need, and rebellious passion.

  Him.

  Chapter 7

  Jackson

  The second the words were out of my mouth, I groaned inwardly. They sounded really raunchy, but I hadn’t meant them that way. I was still intent on making sure this relationship between us remained one hundred percent platonic. It was the only way to pay my dues. To be the man she wanted me to be.

  I meant that. I did.

  And she should go out and have a little fun.

  But this was Lilly Hastings, and the most disobedient thing she’d ever done in her life besides kissing me was probably jaywalking. Daring her to do something that was for her, and only her, would probably lead to nowhere good. I had a feeling she’d either go too big, or way too small. Damned if I didn’t hope it was the former.

  And that I’d be involved.

  I was trying my best to act like a stepbrother should. To play the part handed to me, and to behave as expected for once in my life. To try my best not to let anyone down. It was the least I could do. I had a feeling I failed miserably, though.

  Because my damn dick wouldn’t shut the hell up.

  She bit down on her tongue, and the pink tip peeked through from between her white teeth. I’d never been so intoxicated by a tongue before. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m already doing that.”

  “Huh?” I asked. The beers I’d pounded back made my brain slow and my reactions slower. But when she reached out and grabbed my hand, squeezing it once before letting go, I felt that instantly. “Already doing what?”

  “Stuff for myself. It’s why I went dancing with those guys the other night. I was having fun—and if I went home with one of them instead of you, then that would’ve been just for me, too. No one else. Well…I guess the guy would’ve benefited, too, but still.”

  I forced a smile, even though the idea of her going home with one of those guys sat wrong in the bottom of my gut. Every time we touched, I edged closer to doing something colossally stupid. Like declaring her off-limits to all other guys, effective immediately. Yet I kept touching her, because I couldn’t stop myself. I was a stubborn asshole like that. “Good. That’s a great start. Go home with whoever you want to go home with. No one’s going to stop you.”

  We stared at one another, a thick tension in the air. She was looking at me as if she wanted to go home with me, and I was doing my best to ignore it. It was hard, but I was still going to do my damnedest. I wasn’t going to mess this up. It didn’t matter how she looked at me, or how much I knew she wanted me—because she did; I saw it—I wouldn’t act on my desire. I would ignore it. Be good, for her sake.

  She didn’t need me in her life, messing shit up.

  At least…I didn’t think she did. The woman standing in front of me in a pair of skin-tight black leggings, an off-the-shoulder white tee, and a pair of boots was not the girl I’d kissed by the pool a lifetime ago. And I wasn’t the boy she’d written to.

  She would realize that soon enough.

  “Anyway…” She tucked her hair behind her ear and rose on her tiptoes, looking over my shoulder. “I’ll help you carry that stuff up.”

  And come into my room with me? Hell to the no. “I got it. You just need to let me know which room is mine. I didn’t want to go up there, poking around.”

  “Oh.” She let out a soft laugh and walked past me, scrunching her nose as she went. It was adorable. “Right. Come on. I’ll show you the two rooms that are empty, and you can have your pick.”

  I followed her, grabbing a box as I went. Might as well be productive. She did the same, despite my assurances I could do it alone. When she bent over to pick up a box, her ass was on display, considering the way those pants hugged the hottest body God had ever created. I forced myself to look away.

  Don’t screw this up, Worthington. She’s your stepsister.

  What had seemed fun and rebellious as a kid had real ramifications now, as an adult. Ramifications that she didn’t deserve. And despite my inappropriate and unwelcome desire for Lilly, I had a feeling she was right. That if I let her, she could be my friend again. Maybe it was time to try out having one of those. To let someone in a little bit. And I didn’t want to ruin that with my stupidity.

  Besides Tyler and Doc Greene, I was alone in this world.

  Utterly, completely alone.

  After spending seven years surrounded by my fellow soldiers, solitude wasn’t something I was used to these days. I didn’t want a girlfriend; I wasn’t looking for a happily-ever-after, but here was Lilly, reaching out to me, asking me to let her in. After a lifetime of being left behind or kicked away, I wasn’t sure I could. I wasn’t good at this. Being friendly and civil. I wasn’t even sure if I was doing it right, or if I was being all awkward.

  This was my first time trying to be a brother.

  “Like I said, I grew up here, before Daddy built the house our parents live in.” She opened the first door and stepped inside, peeking over her shoulder at me. “This is room one, probably the one you’ll want to pick. It’s bigger and more neutral.”

  Tan walls and beige carpet. It was easily twice the size of the motel room I’d been in. “It looks big. This isn’t the master, is
it?”

  “Nah, I’m in that one.” She tipped her head, and her long hair fell over her shoulder. “It’s right across the hall.”

  I already knew I wouldn’t pick this room.

  Too close.

  But I pretended to check it out, anyway. Aside from neutral tones, it had two windows. One big-ass closet. A private bathroom. A big king-size bed took up one wall, and a nice oak dresser completed another. “Nice.”

  “Like I said, it’s the better option.” She nodded once and went back into the hallway. I followed her. “The next one is at the end of the hallway, and it’s a little more…well, you’ll see.”

  It was the farthest from her room. Two doors stood between hers and what would be mine. “I like it already. I like being at the end of the hallway.”

  It made it easier to watch my back.

  Like I said, old habits die hard.

  “You haven’t seen it.” She laughed. “Wait for it.”

  Juggling the box on my hip, I rushed forward to open the door for her, since she still carried a box, too. “I’m sure it’ll be good. I just need to—” The words froze on my lips. Pink. It was…pink. The walls. The carpet. The curtains. The bedspread on the queen bed. The dresser. It was all the same shade of nauseating pink. I felt as if I’d been thrown into a Pepto-Bismol bottle, and lived to tell. “Holy shit.”

  She laughed. Full, belly-shaking laughter. “I told you.”

  When she laughed like that, her whole face lit up. And when her whole face lit up, it made me feel a little less dark. As if just by being in her presence, I might become whole again. I didn’t like that feeling. Didn’t like it at all.

  It was as though she had way too much damn control over me already.

  Still laughing, she backed up. “So…I’ll put your box in the other room?”

  Across from her? Close enough to touch? To hear? Hell, no. “I’ll take this one,” I said quickly. “I like it.”

  “But it has a smaller bathroom. And it’s pink.”

  “I don’t care. I…I love it.” I almost choked on the words. “Why is it pink, though? Exactly?”

  “It was my room as a kid.” She blushed. “I liked pink.”

  “You don’t say?” Gritting my teeth together, I set my box down and walked to the window. It had pink butterfly stickers on it. Fucking butterflies. “It’s”—I racked my brain for something nice to say about it—“charming.”

  From my peripheral vision, I saw her watching me as if I’d sprouted two heads. “Okaaaay.”

  The box hit the floor, and she didn’t say anything else. It might seem silly to go to such lengths to put a little distance between us, but I needed the space from her. I wasn’t here to kiss her, seduce her, or ruin her. I was mending fences, not climbing them. And if I was that close to her, I might make a stupid mistake. If I was that close to her, I might—

  No. I wouldn’t. I had this.

  I just needed to retain control.

  Turning around, I started talking, ready to send her off. “Thanks. I’ll get the—oof.”

  At some point, she’d come up behind me. Having no idea, I barged into her. She lost her balance, and I, of course, tried to catch her. Unfortunately, she was already beyond catching, and my fumbling attempts to do so, anyway, sent us both falling to the floor. The very pink floor.

  I slid my hands under her, trying to cradle her from a rough fall, but in the end, I’d made it worse. We hit the floor hard, and I ended up on top of her, my hands trapped beneath her lower back, and my cock pressed up against the last place it should be. Her warm heat. I was very much in between her thighs.

  She felt like heaven and hell, all wrapped into one sweet soul.

  And my body reacted accordingly.

  Her legs were on either side of mine, and she clung to me, chest heaving as she took rapid, shallow breaths. Her plump lips were parted. Her generous breasts rose and fell, pressing against my bare chest, and her nails dug into my biceps as she squirmed beneath me. She groaned and wriggled her hips.

  “Can you breathe?” I asked quickly, trying to focus on her welfare instead of how incredibly right she felt in my arms. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” She let out a small laugh, and her cheeks flushed a fetching pink. “Oh, my God, I’m so clum—” She broke off midsentence, mouth shaped in a perfect little O.

  And I knew why, damn it.

  I may have decided to be a better stepbrother, but there was no stopping my reaction to her when she was in my arms, and I was between her legs. Even though I was trying to be good, my cock hadn’t gotten the memo.

  And there was no way she missed my reaction, either.

  “Shit,” I growled, ducking my head. “I’m sorry. It doesn’t mean—”

  She swallowed hard and pressed a hand to my cheek. We locked gazes, and I didn’t breathe. Didn’t dare to move, because ever so slowly…her focus shifted to my mouth. Gently, I brushed her hair out of her face and ran my thumb over her cheekbone. I was already addicted to the softness of her skin.

  I knew I should stop.

  Knew I was making a mistake.

  But she urged me closer, and that was that. I lowered my head, and she tilted her chin up, closing the distance between us even more. “Jackson…yes.”

  Her voice brought me to my senses. Gave me enough control to pull back slightly. “Jesus, Lilly. What are we doing? We can’t—”

  “Screw that. I’m doing something for myself, and you’re going to like it.” She curled her hand behind my neck, grasping me tightly. “Just like the last time.”

  With a tug, her lips met mine, and everything inside me just…snapped. The pain. The anger. The desire. The fear, even. It all snapped, like a rubber band.

  And it all came back to her.

  Growling, I melded my mouth to hers, slipping my tongue between her lips. The second I touched her, she let out the sexiest damn moan and rolled her hips against my cock, and it was the most exquisite form of torture I ever experienced.

  And I wanted more. So much more.

  I wanted it all.

  Freeing my hands from beneath her, I ran them down her sides and back up under her shirt. The second I closed my palms over her breasts, running my thumbs across her hard nipples through the thin material of her bra, I ground up against her, fucking her with our clothes on. I moved my hips hard and fast, because she lit up like a lightbulb when I did.

  She moaned again, long and soft, into my mouth, moving her hips frantically as I moved mine in a timed, measured stroke. I cursed the clothes between us at the same time I thanked God for them. If we were naked, and I was inside her, I’d only last for two seconds, and there was no way that would work. I wouldn’t let her leave my arms till she came at least three times.

  Maybe more.

  I’d never wanted to get to know every inch of a woman’s body as much as I wanted to know Lilly’s. She’d never know, but she’d kept me alive over there. Her silly letters about her favorite TV shows and her social outings…they kept me sane. Other guys, their minds became their worst enemies, filled to the brim with endless danger and death, but I had that piece of normal to hold on to, like a life preserver. It was her letters that kept me out of the dark hole that PTSD could be. Now, in her arms, I had a feeling she could do it again. Heal me. Save my soul.

  Or break me completely.

  That was a hell of a lot of power to give to someone else. It went against the way I’d lived my life since I was a child. It broke every rule I’d ever set for myself.

  And yet…I kept kissing her.

  Her nails dug into my biceps, and she pumped her hips harder, arching her back. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear no one had ever touched her like this before. That no other man had taken her since I last kissed her by the pool. But there was no way she was untouched. She had a fiancé waiting in the wings, even if she didn’t want one. A man doesn’t have someone as hot as Lilly by his side and not strive to make her come apart in his bed. It was the perfect w
ay to show her why they should marry.

  Preppy Prick would have to be a fool not to use it.

  I pinched her nipples with the perfect amount of pressure, twisting slightly, and rolled my hips into her again, rubbing my hard, aching cock against her hot pussy. She screamed into my mouth, tensed, and came. I pulled back, and the look on her face captivated me. It was hot and delicious and pure.

  Like she’d never felt this before.

  I couldn’t shake the feeling that I might have given her a first, after all. The Preppy Prick and whoever came before him, they were obviously doing something wrong. The look of surprise on her face as she came announced as much. I wanted to get her there again, immediately, just so I could get lost in her.

  And that terrifying thought brought me back to reality.

  “Shit.” I couldn’t do this. Couldn’t touch her. Couldn’t ruin her. “I’m sorry.”

  I pushed off her, breathing heavily, and dragged my hands down my face. She lay on the pink carpet, chest heaving, and her shirt up around her breasts. I could see now that she wore a sheer pink bra—apparently, her love affair with pink had never truly died—with a bow on it. It was like something a schoolgirl would wear, and I’d just made her come so fast it had given me whiplash.

  And I wanted to do it again.

  She blinked at me, looking as if she still hadn’t come down from her orgasm. “Oh. Oh.”

  She struggled to her feet, and it took all my control not to help her.

  If I touched her again…

  Yeah, we all knew what would happen.

  “I can move out.” I dropped my hands to my sides, fisting them. “I should move out.”

  “No. Please, don’t.” She frowned, stepping back and hugging herself. “That whole thing…that was on me. It won’t happen again.”

  I should have gone. But the fact that I’d messed up even more made me want to stay. To prove I could do this. Be the man I was supposed to be, for her, without fucking it up.

  In a way, I had to prove it to myself, too.

  So I wasn’t going anywhere.

  “You’re damn right it won’t happen again,” I said quietly, shame churning in my stomach. The shame at my behavior, and the fact that I hadn’t even lasted one damn night before messing up, made me short with her. “This isn’t happening. I’m not repeating history. You and me? We don’t work. We both know it.”