Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 141281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
But the only crazy I’m feeling is mine when his fingers brush my hip.
I gasp.
“Goddamn, princess. You’re really clueless what you’ve got in the trunk, huh?” His eyes glow like stars.
“Excuse you?” I stammer.
“This is an ass a man could jerk off to through a whole combat tour. This ass alone would make any dude in the field fight twice as hard to come back in one piece.”
Spinning.
The whole world blurs around me as I try to wrap my head around this conversation.
Nobody ever complimented my butt, and certainly not like this.
Why, oh why, does the only man doing it have to be Mr. Tall, Rude, and Impossible?
My heart stops several times, stuck on memories of a high I wish I didn’t have.
And it’s like Chris knows it, too.
He’s moving closer now, craning his neck, moving his mouth close enough to—
God, it’s undeniable.
His kiss drop-kicks my soul into a universe made of butterflies, crushing and molten and taboo.
I can’t believe this is happening—my own stepbrother!
That does it.
I jerk back, pushing helplessly against his chest, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand and pretending I’m far more disgusted than I really am.
He stands up and takes a step away, his eyes angry slits.
“You’re shitting me. I disgust you that much?”
My heart sinks.
I didn’t mean it like that.
It was just a reaction—a reflex—a defense before I let him hijack my senses and lead us into the greatest mistake of our lives.
“Sorry, it’s...it’s not like that at all,” I say softly. “Chris, be serious. You’re upset and you’ve been drinking. You know we shouldn’t do this. We can’t. Maybe in another life, if we’d been at their stupid wedding and objected when they took their vows.”
“Their vows,” he throws back, his voice dripping venom. “You really think this clown show will last? And I don’t mean your old man. Ma will bolt when she gets bored. And when she finally does, what the fuck does it matter for you and me?”
I swallow thickly.
“We need to learn to live together. Like normal human beings, I mean. Whether our parents last or not, I can’t deal with the teasing, the constant urge to—” I bite my tongue.
I can’t say it.
My cheeks betray me, though, blossoming cherry-red.
Adrenaline sweeps through my body, and one look from Chris tells me he can read every last secret in my head before he even speaks.
“Urge to what—ride me, princess? Because that’s what I want every goddamned second I’m standing here, staring all slack-jawed with balls bigger and bluer than Aladdin’s genie. I can’t keep my hands off you, woman. With you, I’m dangerous.”
Whoa.
He sounds ice-cold, but his eyes are all leaping green flames.
Is this what he’s like when he’s upset?
I move toward him lightly, reaching for his shoulder, trying to soothe this tattooed beast.
Yes, he’s a bastard, but everything he says about his dear old mom suggests he’s been damaged. Possibly horribly damaged in ways I can’t begin to imagine.
And maybe I hurt him more than I meant to tonight.
Maybe Evie’s antics struck the vein of something evil inside him, something he’s been wrestling with for ages.
“Chris, this doesn’t have to be weird. We can learn to deal, right? What happened last night was just a big fat mistake—an innocent one! Nobody knows. Nobody ever has to but us.”
I stand in front of him, halfway opening myself to a hug, against my better judgment.
But he shoves past me with a scowl like a scorned tiger.
It’s so fast and sudden it scares me, but before I can say anything, he’s out the door, lunging into the night.
He rips the heavy balcony door open, stopping its momentum like it’s nothing in his strong hand.
“Chris, wait. I just—”
“Shut it, Delia. I didn’t come here begging for your pity, and I sure as shit don’t need advice. You’re right, it doesn’t have to be like this. I’m getting the fuck back where I belong so I don’t have to stare at a chick all summer who’s too afraid to fuck because our folks pulled the dumbest shit of their lives. Don’t need the stress between missions. Peace out.”
Ouch, ouch, ouch.
Every word leaves my ears ringing.
The worst part is, I can’t think of anything else to say.
Not until I realize he’s gone.
Oh, crap, he’s about to—
“Chris!” I rush outside and stumble to the banister.
I’m terrified it’s already too late and if I look down, I’ll see him on the grass below, broken or totally lifeless. But when I stare down in confusion, all I see is dull blackness.
Night.
Silence.
Then there’s a soft groan from his balcony. He’s already jumped, hit the other side, and he hoists himself up over the railing.
I watch his mountain of a body dart up and flop down safely on the balcony like it’s nothing.
Wow. He could shame an Olympic gymnast.