Shrugging it off as nothing, I open the door and close it behind me. The house is strangely silent. More often than not, either the TV is on, or Aleah has music playing. It’s rare for the house to be this quiet.
I debate calling out her name, but figured I’d surprise her by plating the food and setting the table. It’s her birthday, after all. She deserves a nice dinner, and I know she’d want to help if given the chance.
I walk down the hall toward the kitchen when a noise coming from the family room catches my attention. I approach, hoping to catch Aleah by surprise. It’s me who’s surprised, though, when I step over the threshold.
Not only surprised, but my veins fill with white-hot rage.
Sitting on the edge of the pool table with her shirt lifted, baring her naked breasts, is Aleah. She’s leaning back on her hands, her tits jutting out and her head tipped back.
But it’s not her that has me livid. It’s the fucking shirtless man bent over her, sucking one of her nipples into his mouth. His deep moan fills the room, setting my temper ablaze.
I drop the bag of food, and it makes enough noise that Aleah’s head jerks down, her eyes meeting mine, and the man, who I recognize as my goddamn neighbor, twists his neck to look over his shoulder.
“Oh shit. Fuck,” he mutters, scrambling to stand.
I’m strung tight with so much anger my voice comes out a shaky growl. “You’ve got two fucking seconds to get the hell out of my house.”
His frightened expression doesn’t do shit for my mood. He nods and moves toward the door that I’m still standing in front of.
I’m a few inches taller than him, so I look down at him as he tries to pass. “You come anywhere near her again, and I’ll break your fucking face. You got me?”
It takes every bit of control I possess to not plant my fist into his face. I step to the side and let him pass. Once he’s out of the room, I pin my gaze back on Aleah. She’s still sitting on the pool table, but her shirt has been shoved back down.
I point my finger at her. “Don’t fucking move, or so help me God, Aleah, your ass will be so fucking red you won’t sit for a week.”
Her head bobs and her eyes widen in fear.
I walk out of the room and go back to the front door, clicking the lock shut. I keep my hand on the lock and drop my head for a moment, pulling in several deep breaths. Never have I ever felt so much anger than I did seeing Shawn with Aleah. I wanted to wrap my hands around his neck and squeeze until his eyeballs popped out of their sockets. Not because he was touching my step-daughter, but because he was touching a woman I consider as mine.
Aleah isn’t mine. Or rather, she shouldn’t be, but damn it all to hell, I want her to be. I don’t remember ever wanting a woman the way I want her. Like I’d give my last breath to have only a taste. Or murder any man who dares to touch her. That’s what I wanted to do to Shawn. I wanted him gone. Not just from my house. I wanted to kill the bastard with my bare hands.
Clenching my teeth, I lift my head and look over my shoulder toward the hallway where Aleah is.
She’s gone too fucking far this time. She knew exactly what buttons to push because I’ve done a shit job of hiding my feelings toward her.
I turn and stalk across the living room and down the hallway. Aleah has no clue what she’s asking for, but she’s about to find out.
Being the deceptively good girl that she is, she’s still sitting on the pool table like I told her to. Her hands twist together in her lap, and she looks at me with wary eyes.
I walk in the room and slam the door behind me so hard it rattles the pictures on the wall. She flinches at the loud noise. Good. She should be scared. She poked the beast and now he’s ready to play.
“Spencer, I’m—”
“Shut. The. Fuck. Up,” I growl.
I work on the buttons on my dress shirt, then toss it aside. As I prowl toward her, I reach back and rip my white undershirt over my head.
“You want to play games, Aleah?” I ask. “You really want to know what it’s like to fuck a man my age?” I stop just before I hit her knees and lean my hands on the pool table by her hips, putting my face inches away from hers. “Are you sure you can handle it?”
I gnash my teeth together when her tongue slides out to run across her lips. “Yes,” she whispers.
I dip my head lower, pressing a kiss against the column of her neck before sinking my teeth into her skin. She sucks in a sharp breath. My lips travel up to her ear and I whisper, “I don’t think you can.”
I pull back and stand to my full height. Jerking my chin to her shorts, I growl. “Take them off.”
Her hands immediately move to the snap on her shorts. Lifting her hips, she wiggles them over her waist and lets them drop to the floor. I’m not sure if I should be pissed she’s not wearing panties when she was just with Shawn or grateful because it’s one less obstacle in my way.
I take a step back to get a better view. “Lean back on your hands and spread your legs.”