by Nicole Snow
“Claire, look, shit got outta hand.” Ty's voice sounds softer than I've ever heard it. “I didn't mean to insult your ma or your intelligence. You're a smart woman – bright enough to stay the fuck away from me. Nobody else does that. Normally, I'd have your panties as a souvenir by now, and I'm glad I don't. Not just because we're in this fucked up family arrangement, but because you stood up to me. It's all this poison talking, this shit I can't get over about the marriage. You understand? I was a kid when I lost my mother. When some strange woman walks into my dad's life without warning, what the hell am I supposed to think?”
I don't know the answer. I can't figure out whether there's some sick truth to what he's saying, or if my mom's truly gone head over heels for the first time in my life. And even if the bastard next to me is right, it stings even worse.
“Here's what I think,” I say, slowly circling through the sandy parking strip, heading for the main road. “You don't like my mother. I'm not too fond of your dad. Hell, Ty, I'm not a fan of you.”
His lip purse, just enough for me to notice. His gorgeous blue eyes flash icy dark for a second, and then he's glaring at me, angry like I just spat in his coffee.
I don't get it. It's not a big secret – we're enemies. Step-rivals. One big, dysfunctional family.
How can he be so damned oblivious?
“You really hate my ass, huh? After I just gave you an honest apology?” Ty snorts. “So much for smoothing things over. I'm an open book, Claire. I won't hide a damned thing from you. Yeah, I've given plenty of shit, and I'm gonna keep giving you more because it's what I do. It's me. If you can't handle me the way I am, then we're gonna be strangers after all.”
“Yep. Honestly, I'd rather keep my distance than be roped into more of your head games!” I snap. “We can't control what our parents do. For one very brief second, I thought maybe you were right, maybe we could find some common ground. But you've ruined that today. You proved it doesn't work. I think you're delusional to think anything else. I'm not your step-sister, Ty. I'm just another bitch who came along for the ride when my mom decided to crash your dad's wonderful life.”
I try to keep my eyes fixed on the road. Still, there's no ignoring how his fists flex, making his huge biceps bow up. Jesus, what guns he's got strapped to his shoulders. If most fit young men are carrying rifles, then he's got cannons.
It's a joke when most men say it, flexing and prancing around like bulky peacocks. With Ty, it's God's truth, otherworldly perfection sculpted from head to toe.
Unfortunately, there's an asshole inside the body of this Greek god, and now I've laid all my cards out.
I'm barking at him here like a cornered animal. I'm not afraid to let him know how bad he's hurt me, pissed me off, but I can't let him see how my heart races a little bit faster every time I take a nice long look at him.
There's dead silence for the next mile, maybe more. He's done talking. Cautiously, I look over, staring at him while he's got his head turned to the window, aiming his deadly blue eyes out at the stormy Pacific.
“Ty...”
“Shut the fuck up.” He spins his face around, and it's lined with anger. “Just get us home. I don't need any more of this horseshit before my big fight.”
“Fight? For charity? I didn't know you had one coming up.”
“None of your business. I thought about asking you to come, but there's no fucking way now. You can't stand me getting in a few words here in the open. There's no goddamned way you'd handle watching me pummel Fat Boy to the floor.”
Oh my God. And he's the one who called me sensitive? I can't tell if he's really that stung, or if this is just one more mind game. If I give into the urge to smack him across the face, as hard as I possibly can, I'll probably wreck this car.
“You're right,” I mutter. Every syllable threatens to lodge in my throat and choke me. “I've got my internship starting this week. I don't have time to watch you beat on some other big ape. Time's all I've really got, Ty. I need to make money and get my career going. I'm not a billionaire's kid like you.”
My inner filter's officially crumbled. Gone.
I don't dare look at him as he shoots me one last death glare. For a second, I'm half scared he'll reach over and suffocate me with those monstrous hands.
Then my brain does it for me, turning against me, forcing me to imagine what those rough, huge paws would feel like all over my body.
Great. Being around Prince Asshole Sterner collides with my virgin insecurities.
It's sick. Taboo. Wrong.
It's also lodged in my head like a bad song on loop. All I can think about for the rest of the drive is how good it would feel to hate-fuck this savage sonofabitch, blowing off the smothering tension between us, and probably a lot more too.
So much for ever having a normal sex life.
I don't realize how hot my blood's pumping until we're past the guardhouse, heading for the garage. The oversized opener attached to my visor isn't working for some reason. The car idles as I awkwardly tap the big button several times.
Ty's arm jerks past. He pushes my hand down with a growl, rips the black box off my visor, and then punches a neon green square next to the big button.
“That one opens the garage. You're hitting the fucking panic button for the guards.”
Hot, brutal red stains my cheeks. I'm too embarrassed to make another sarcastic comment. By the time I pull in and get ready to snap back, my door pops open, and Ty leaps out of my car.
He doesn't even stop to look back as he jogs to the house door, rips it open, and disappears inside.
I don't move for at least a solid half hour. I'll fucking die on the spot if I run into the prick in the halls. My entire body can't stop shaking, and the tears come, furious and blinding hot after their delay.
Is this what a panic attack feels like?
I'm clueless. The storm sweeps over me for the next ten minutes while my brain flashes through my parents, their sudden wedding, and this new home that'll never feel anything like home should.
This place is a fucking prison, no matter how many luxurious acres it is. And Ty's just another inmate here to taunt me, to toy with me right down to base biology. Why, why, why does my fucked up brain want to kiss the lips that won't stop telling me I'm worthless?
You know that old cliche about uptight good girls melting their panties and losing their minds for the worst badasses around? Yeah, I'm living it.
“Shut up! You better open those legs a fuck of a lot wider if you want what I've got pounding your pussy, babe. Don't you fucking scream 'til I say you can.”
It's his voice.
At first, I think I'm having a sex dream. Not just any sex dream, but an honest-to-God pussy creaming wet dream about my evil step-brother.
“Oh, Ty!” A woman's voice bubbles through the darkness. “Oh, my. Fuck, that feels so –“
She gasps. I open my eyes, listening to Ty's rough growl. I can practically hear him throwing her skirt up and burying his face against her skin.
I sit up in my bed. He's not in my room, but the voices are so close it sounds like it. More shifting, movement just outside my door. It takes me a few seconds to realize he's outside in the hallway with some random slut, and she's pressed up against my door.
Oh, hell no. This can't be happening.
The clock next to me glows 2:00 AM. Normally, I'd be furious to have someone wake me up in the middle of the night. I used to give my roomies hell about it back at the dorms.
But I turned in so early after our fight on the beach that I feel like I've slept for eight or nine hours.
“Ty, Ty!” her infuriating voice chirps again, hot and heavy, moaning his name like she's worshiping him.
Maybe she is. The wet smack of lips pressing and hands roaming around forbidden places tells me he's got another poor girl wrapped around his wicked finger.
I'm about to jump out of bed, fling the door open, and throw my slipper at him when the girl giggles. She sounds a litt
le further away now. A second later, the door to Ty's room next door opens, and then clicks shut.
That's right. This house is bigger than half the hotels I've ever stayed at, and yet we're locked in close quarters like rats. Don't get me wrong – the rooms are huge, spacious, and totally private. But I'm still next to him – him!
I'd rather be sleeping next to Mom and her new billionaire boy toy, or whatever the hell he actually means to her. Hearing them fuck through the walls wouldn't be half as gross as what's about to happen.
A body slams against the wall behind mine. The woman keeps laughing and laughing, hissing pure pleasure through her teeth. An image of Ty holding her plush against the wall flashes in my mind, the perfect position for shoving his face between her legs.
I have an eerily good idea what they're doing. But what the hell's up with me?
I don't realize I'm against the wall on the other side, pressing my ear to it, until hot blood rushes through my temples. The stranger's high, soft feminine gasps are coming faster now. If I lean really close, I can hear the wet, steady slap of his mouth on her flesh, his growl stabbing through it every so often like he's starving for this.
There's no denying the way she starts to shriek and tries to cover it. He's eating her from the bottom up, holding her lips open and fucking her pussy with his tongue, refusing to let up for a single second until she explodes on his mouth.
“Jesus, Ty! Just a little more,” she begs. “Oh. Oh! I think I'm going to –“
One second of pure silence. Then there's a hard, tense banging on the wall as the girl's fists flop on her sides, all she can do to keep from screaming so loud everyone in the house will hear it.
Gawh! It sounds like she's screaming through his fingers.
Everything below my waist gets hot and tight. A trembling hand goes to my chest. I'm panting, just as breathless as the bitch getting her brains fucked out one wall away, listening as my arrogant, nasty, inked-up step-brother forces her to climax.
Obviously, I knew Prince Asshole could fuck like a pro, but hearing him do it is something else.
Her hips are rocking against the wall and she keeps making little sharp sounds. She's coming, dragging her clit on his tongue, grinding her pussy into his beautiful face. Maybe he has a mean hand clapped across her lips to make sure she doesn't scream too loud.
I'm not sure.
Shit, I'm not sure I'll ever be the same again with my hand sliding between my legs, listening as they both break for air. Spreading my fingers on my panties, I cup my mound, discover it's even wetter than I feared.
I hold it there and try to focus on my breathing. Every single breath hurts. It's jagged, hot, heavy and confused as everything swells and winds up inside me.
And they're not done yet. I'm not that lucky.
“Holy fuck balls, Ty.” She's got a dirty mouth. It's not hard to see why my filthy step-brother chose her. “You've got a hell of a mouth. Do you want me to return the favor, baby? I can –“
“Shut the fuck up. You can suck my dick back to life after I come in you a couple times. Open your fucking legs.”
God. Damn. It.
I don't know why it's a surprise, but he's an even bigger bastard in the bedroom. He's commanding, brash, ordering her around like she's a hired whore. I don't think a man like him ever needs to pay a woman for sex, though. She's probably drooling all over herself just for the privilege of running her fingers over the bloodthirsty tiger inked on his chest.
“But, Ty –“
She's silenced by the heavy plop of clothing dropping on the ground. It's probably Ty's – maybe what little he hasn't stripped away yet. Closing my eyes, I picture his magnificent body in front of me.
Naked. Throbbing. Tattooed. And all mine.
No, it's not mine tonight. It's hers. It shouldn't make me aqua green, shouldn't poison every drop of my blood with filthy jealousy.
But it does. I rub between my legs, playing with my clit, feeling the same agonizing shame I always do when I touch myself. Except tonight, there's a thousand times more emotion screaming through my blood.
I hate myself for listening to this piece of shit ravage her. I hate him for waking me up with his insatiable dick. And I really fucking hate him for making me stand here like a pervert, two fingers drawing the cream that drips out my pussy up to my clit, rubbing it like there's no tomorrow while I listen to them kiss.
“Get on the bed. I need to be inside you right the fuck now, woman.”
Next thing I know, there's a sharp squeal of springs. The slut gasps as he eases inside her, picking up steam. His thrusts come faster than I expected.
They don't have slow, loving sex. I wonder if that's even possible with a man like Ty. No, this is straight up fucking, using her to jack himself off and empty the tension in his body the same way a starving man devours a meal.
It's sick. It's emotionless. And for some lunatic reason, it's totally hot. I'm out of fucking control – even worse than the woman who sounds like she's got a pillow stuffed in her mouth as his hips pound hers into the mattress.
Thud-thud-thud.
It's the sound of the bed clattering and my own ruined heart. I hate him. I want him. I don't know whether to bang on the wall and tell him what an asshole he is, or just stand here and keep touching myself while he brings her off again.
Obviously, I make the easy choice.
Her gurgling, cooing mess reaches a sticky crescendo and the bed jerks harder. “Give it up for me, goddamn it. You better clench hard on this dick if you want me to come with you.”
I can't believe his bed is any crappier than mine. But it sounds like a freaking antique with springs that have never been oiled as he pounds her ruthlessly, throws her into orgasm.
My fingers stroking desperately at my clit go wild. Leaning on the wall, I bring my free wrist up to my mouth and bite it, all I can do to save myself from the biggest embarrassment ever.
She's coming for the second time. Then I hear Prince Asshole roar, bury himself deep inside her, and growl like some feral creature. His bed screams so loudly with the sound of him fucking and coming, I swear it's shaking the entire house.
I bite my wrist hard, fall to my knees, and suffer the strongest orgasm of my life. Whimpering, screaming, and barely breathing, I come with them. I give into the fucked up degeneracy Ty's unlocked, obliterating my own ego for more than a minute as my body writhes, quakes, and sweats through the spasms.
My pussy's still throbbing when it's all over. I can't move until I hear the bed in the other room squeal one more time, probably from him flopping down next to her to rest.
When I can finally stand up, my own hot teeth marks are branded in my arm. Christ.
I'm probably going to need to wear long sleeves when I go to work tomorrow. Ty's talking softly to his sweetheart for the night. Meaningless small talk. I can't possibly believe she means anything to him.
She's – what did he call it? – pussy that's a dime a dozen? Just like me. Supposedly.
My stomach lurches when I come off the high. I've got to suppress the urge to vomit. I'll just die if I need to step out of my room and cross the small space in the hall to my private bathroom.
Why the hell can't it be built right into the room like a master bath?
I can't let him know I'm awake. Hell, both of them. If I get a good look at the fuck buddy who's been eating out of his hand tonight, I'll either cry or scratch her eyes out. Then I'll wind up getting carried out of this house, kicking and screaming, and probably create a media scandal so bad the billionaire has me thrown into the nearest mental institution for life.
The urge to throw up passes, and I manage to crawl back into bed without making too much noise. Still can't tell if the walls are paper thin down here, or if Ty was just fucking her so hard I heard nearly everything.
I lay there, and roll over, trying to stifle the noises and go to sleep. It's quiet – but not for long.
About two seconds after I close my eyes, the bed squeaks
again in the distance. Ty's rough voice filters through the wall, but I can't quite make out what he's saying being further away. It's probably something crude, some dark threat telling her all the despicable ways he's going to toy with her body tonight.
The low creak and pillow talk sharpens. He's fucking her again, grunting and cursing, pounding her so hard the headboard's slapping the wall.
Fuck. I'm never going to sleep tonight. If I'm lucky, I'll get up in time to clear my bloodshot eyes and wash the stink of sex and shame and desire off my skin.
His fuck-fest next door is completely indifferent to my suffering. There's nothing left to do tonight except reach for the nearest pillow and cover my head, drowning out the lewd noises behind the wall as much as I can.
“Rise and shine, honey!” There's a knock at the door, and my mother's voice sounding way more...motherly than I've heard her for years. It's how she used to wake me up before spending half the year in DC.
Stumbling to the door, I straighten my clothes, hoping like hell Mom can't smell last night's sweat and lust steaming off me when I yank the door open.
“Claire! You haven't showered yet?” She cocks her head.
“Still getting used to the house, my new room here,” I say with a smile. “It took me a long time to fall asleep. Thanks for the wakeup call!”
Mom rolls her eyes and pushes past me, giving the first-day-on-the-job outfit I've laid out a long look. She gives me an approving nod while I reach for my phone, then I hear her walking ahead of me into the bathroom, laying out the towels and things.
“Mom, I'm a big girl. I don't need you setting me up like this.”
She turns around and barely lets me squeeze past her into the bathroom. “I'm just being helpful. I don't want you turning out like the boy who shares this basement. I saw him come in late last night, and that thing he brought home.”
She twists her nose. My eyes go wide and I try not to laugh. “Wait, you saw her?”
“At the breakfast bar this morning. The little tramp was eating my yogurt in nothing but yoga pants and a tank top.” She shakes her head, and I cough. “Ty left with her early. It's a good thing too – I'd hate to have seen Gary's reaction to his son's latest antics.”
