Cressida slumpsonto the couch and looks up at me when I remove the condom. Fuck, she looks beautiful, freshly fucked, as her hair fans out on either side of her. Her eyes are tired and sparkling at the same time. If I’d brought a second condom, I’d go again, and I am pretty sure she’d let me. I was hoping fucking her would satisfy my need for her, but instead, it’s making me crave her more.
“The door is that way.” She waves toward it. “Lock it on your way out,” she mutters, still watching me.
“I don’t even get a ‘thank you’ before I go?”
She huffs and shakes her head. “That’s a no.”
I pull my pants up my legs, tucking in my cock—who wants to play with her some more—before zipping and buttoning them. I don’t blame my dick for wanting another round with her. Sex with Cressida was mind-blowing.
I see my phone on the floor, and next to it is her vibrator. After picking up both, I put them into my pocket, and she doesn’t even notice. I finish getting dressed, then say, “Goodnight, Hurricane.” I wink at her before taking my leave, making sure the door is locked behind me.
The street is quiet, considering how late or early it is. As I climb into the car, I glance back at her place. The lights are still on, but the door is shut tight.
My phone starts buzzing in my pocket, but I ignore it as I start the car and drive back to my condo. At the building complex, I have multiple parking spots, and I pull my car in next to my Ferrari.
My phone starts buzzing again, and I see my sister’s name flash on the screen. It tells me she’s been out all night, either drinking or seeing someone she shouldn’t be, and now she needs me to help her. Usually, my assistance involves money. But I’m cutting her off, and she needs to understand that. I’ve done so much for her and will continue to do what I need to, but only in moderation. She needs to work. She’s fit enough to do so, but she chooses not to. And I have enabled that behavior for far too long. I see that now. I plan to change that, even though she’s ignored my emails about the start date of another new job. I gave her an easy, stress-free position, answering calls, and I haven’t even received a thank you from her.
I get out of the car and then take the elevator to my condo. When the doors open, I’m instantly greeted with some god-awful loud music.
Which means one thing.
My sister is here.
And she shouldn’t be.
I’ve told her she can come by anytime, but she is supposed to call first.
Dropping my things at the door, I walk into the kitchen to find her making a complete and utter mess.
“Oh, good, you’re home. Where have you been?” Maya says when she notices me.
“Out.”
“Fighting?” she guesses.
I don’t reply.
People have told me I have an unhealthy relationship with my sister. I used to brush it off. She’s all I’ve got. And for a long time, that was enough of a reason. She was sick, fragile, and clingy, and I let her. But lately, every time she walks through my door without asking, something in me recoils. Like now, my shoulders lock up, and I’m already pressing my thumb into the space between my brows, like I can’t hold the irritation in with sheer force. She smiles like she owns the place. Like she’s owed this part of me. It’s fucking suffocating me.
“Why are you here, Maya?” I stop across from where she stands at the counter.
“You’ve been avoiding me all week.”
“Avoiding you? Okay. Did you read the job offer?”
She doesn’t make eye contact when she replies, “I missed my brother, okay?”
“What did you think about the job offer I sent you?” I ask again.
“It’s too much pressure,” she whines, squeezing the handle of a wooden spoon. “You can’t expect that much from me.”
Shaking my head, I grip the edge of the counter. “Leave, Maya.”
“What?”
“Leave. I can’t keep doing this song-and-dance with you. I’ve given you so much, and you can’t even do a little in return. The job was easy. I wouldn’t have given it to you if it wasn’t.”
“But, Soren?—”
