“There,” he says as he tosses the second tissue into the garbage. “See? I’ll gladly clean cream off my dirty little stepsister’s beautiful face.”
My cheeks flush again, but this time it comes with some frustration. I’m trying to keep my thoughts platonic, but his filthy mouth is not helping. At all.
“Do you have to make everything sound so…”
He grins as he watches me with challenging eyes. “So what?”
“So dirty!”
He sits on the counter and watches me with amusement in his frustratingly beautiful eyes as I slam the shampoo bottle onto the shelf in the shower.
“I’m not the one who creamed all over herself when her new stepbrother walked in.”
“See, there!” I snap as I point to his mouth. “It’s shampoo, not… cream.”
He licks his lips as he watches me with a grin. “Say that again.”
“No!”
“You’re cute when you’re mad.”
“That’s… I’m… You…” I huff out a breath. “How would you like it if I told our parents on you?”
Oh crap. Did I really just pull the telling-on-parents card?
“No need to tell,” he says as he hops off the counter with a wolfish grin. “I’ll play nice.”
My body tingles as he looks me over slowly, shamelessly, hungrily.
“Missed a spot,” he says in that low sexy voice. I’m frozen as he reaches over and slides his index finger over the exposed skin on my chest, just above my V-neck. My nipples turn rock-hard as he scoops up the drop of shampoo.
“I’ll see you at dinner,” he says as he walks back to his room, “my dirty little stepsister.”
He looks me over one last time and then closes the door.
I stumble back onto the toilet and drop my head into my hands. I don’t know what I’m doing. This is unchartered waters. I’ve never been in the sights of such a hot sexual guy and I don’t know how to handle it.
Not like this! I scold myself.
I’m doing everything all wrong. I should ignore him. I should call him out. I should keep my thoughts platonic.
Arrgghhh!!!
That’s not going to work. He’s impossible to ignore. He loves to push my buttons. He knows what he’s doing…
And keeping my thoughts platonic? In theory it sounds good, but in reality…
…it’s damn near impossible.
There’s nothing I can do.
I have a crush on my new stepbrother.
Oh crappers. I’m fucked.
CHAPTER THREE
Tanner
* * *
It’s almost impossible to keep my eyes off of my sexy new stepsister’s mouth as she chews. I’m sitting across from her at dinner—cock rock-hard under the table—as I watch.
She is fucking perfect.
I can tell she’s a good girl. Sweet, innocent, and proper in every way. A virgin for sure. I can tell by the way she keeps blushing whenever I’m around. Every dirty word I say makes those adorable little cheeks bloom with pink heat.
I’m making her uncomfortable. I’m making her flustered. I’m putting dirty thoughts in her head that she’s not used to having. And I’m just getting started.
“So, Tanner,” my new stepmother nervously says as she cuts her chicken breast. “David tells me that you’re a mechanic?”
“Yeah,” I say as her daughter’s beautiful blue eyes flash at me with interest. “I’m good with my hands. Very good.”
There are those blushing cheeks I’m starting to become obsessed with. She drops her sweet innocent eyes back onto her plate as her cheeks flare up.
Fuck, I can’t take my eyes off her. Look at her, sitting there, so damn sexy and she’s doesn’t even know it. She has no idea the possessive thoughts I’m feeling right now. I want to throw our parents out of the cabin, toss her onto the table, and ravage her virgin body right here and now. I want to thrust into her tight little cunt and start a new family tradition. One that will have her moaning my name and begging for more.
“I’m just happy that you’re fixing cars now instead of breaking into them,” my father says as he shoots me a look.
I glare at him back. This prick is not going to get to me. I won’t let him. Not this weekend. All of my attention and energy is going to be spent on getting my sexy new stepsister to lay on her back and willingly open her legs for me.
That wet little cunt across and under the table, being squeezed closed by soft nervous thighs is all I have on my mind. It’s the only thing I care about.
I shove a piece of chicken into my mouth as awkward silence descends on the table. I don’t care. I’m used to awkward family dinners.
So, I turn my attention back on my new obsession.
Eleanor is sitting there, politely cutting her steamed carrots with impeccable table manners. Her back is straight and her elbows are off the table.
Her silky brown hair is as strait-laced as she is. Her lips are pulled together in a tight line. She’s so wholesome. So virtuous. So innocent.