He’s my stepbrother. Our parents are married, and to most people, marriage is forever. That means Cross will always be in my life, one way or another.
I sip on my coffee and scroll my phone, wondering if maybe I should try to hook up with someone else—on my terms, of course. Someone that I trust. Someone who won’t spike my drink, and take advantage of me, and listen if I say no.
Someone whoisn’tCross.
A raspy clearing of a throat makes me jump. Coffee splashes out from the top of my mug, scalding my hand before landing on the counter.
“Shit,” I curse.
Cross moves to stand beside me and peers down at my mess. He says nothing. Instead, he reaches past me for the coffee pot, our arms nearly skimming.
Goosebumps race to my arms from the mere breeze. My cup clanks to the counter as I place it beside the spill, and I take the opportunity to move across the kitchen for something to clean the mess with.
Mid-cleanup, I glance at him. My hand freezes with the soaked paper towels in my grip. Cross, in low-hanging sweats and a half-unzipped jacket, sans shirt, stands with his back against the counter, the coffee pot up to his mouth.
He gulps down the hot coffee with ease before flicking his eyes to mine.
I can't move. I can’t breathe.
“Did you finish that last assignment?” he asks, casual as ever.
I blink.What?
One of his eyebrows hitches as he waits for my answer, the impatience obvious.
Is he just going to pretend last night didn’t happen?
Was I dreaming?
I move my gaze to his mouth.
My lips tingle at the sight of his.
It most definitely wasn’t a dream.
His gaze slowly slips to my neck. A flush begins to work its way across my chest. He puts the coffee pot back up to his mouth, but I see the slight twitch of his lips.
I quickly reach up and pull my hair forward to hide the bite mark he left behind. I shift on my feet because I’m choosing not to acknowledge the pull in between my legs.
“I’ll have it done this afternoon.” I put my back to him becausefuck him.
My hackles rise at the sound of his slow and steady strides back to where I’m standing. His hot breath coats the side of my cheek as he reaches across me to put the empty coffee pot back in its rightful place.God, this is bad.
“Good,” he clips out. “You can bring it to the gym when you’re finished.”
I turn abruptly, our faces close. “The gym? Again?”
“That’s right.”
My eyes flutter closed with his breathy response. He pushes my hair past my shoulder, showing off the bite mark he left me with no less than twenty-four hours ago.
I open my eyes, and he glares.
“But try to keep your mouth to yourself this time,sis.”
My lips part with shock. Cross turns and puts his back to me while pulling his hood up onto his head before stalking down the hall to round the stairs.
He jogs up the steps, and I’m left standing in the kitchen feeling even more turned on than I did last night.
