“I hate you!” Chelsea screamed from the front porch.
“Shit,” Stone muttered.
Please don’t come in expectin’ to chat.
“Go fuck yourself, Nico. I never wanna see you again!”
The screen door flew open, and Chelsea stormed inside. He looked up and saw tears in her eyes. As soon as he did, he patted Stevie’s thigh and shot to his feet, heading out the door. He didn’t think twice. The fucker had made his sister cry, and he was going to get a beat down for that. It was one thing to piss her off, but to break her heart … the bastard didn’t get to just walk away.
Nico was grabbing the things Chelsea had thrown on the ground as Stone walked up to him. As soon as the guy was upright, Stone reared back and punched him, throwing a right hook that got him in the mouth.
Nico stumbled back, dropping the shit in his hands. “What the hell’d you do that for?”
It took everything in him not to punch the guy again. “You’re a shithead, Nico.”
“What the fuck didIdo?” Nico popped off. “Your sister’s fuckin’ crazy.”
Stone kept a firm grip on his control right up until the asshole licked the blood on his lip and grinned.
“You bastard,” Stone snapped as he threw another right hook, this one harder than the first.
Nico tripped but caught himself before he hit the ground. “Goddammit, Stone. What the fuck?”
“You broke her heart, you fucker. You deserve worse.”
Nico’s laugh lacked humor. “Have youmetyour sister? No one breaks Chelsea’s heart.”
Stone watched as Nico gently touched his lip with his finger and then his tongue. He didn’t smile this time. No one said he wasn’t smart.
“Talk shit about her. I’m itchin’ to hit you again.”
“I ain’t talkin’ shit. She’s the one tellin’ everybody—” Nico rolled his eyes. “Fuck this shit.”
Nico pivoted on his heel and made a beeline for his truck. Stone followed, not letting him put any distance between them. Just as Nico reached for the door handle, Stone shoved him. Nico stumbled, putting his hands up to break the fall. He rebounded back, spinning around.
“What the fuck is your problem?”
Stone didn’t stop, barreling into Nico’s personal space, getting right up in his face.
Nico stumbled, his back hitting the truck. Stone took advantage of his surprise, leaning in, glaring at the man. He had plenty of time to throw another punch or two, but something stopped him. Maybe it was the hint of fear in Nico’s ocean-blue eyes or the gleam in his eye. Hell, it could’ve been the trickle of blood on his lip.
Whatever it was, his desire to break and maim turned into something else entirely.
“Seriously, man. I didn’t break—”
Stone gripped Nico by the throat, careful not to apply too much pressure. He wasn’t interested in killing him. He wanted to prove to the man who was in charge here.
As soon as he felt the prickle of stubble on Nico’s jaw, Stone’s dick kicked in his jeans. He was already rock hard from being around his girl, then add in the adrenaline rush from the fight. But every drop of blood in his body detoured right to his dick the moment Nico surrendered.
Stone remained there, holding him in place as he skimmed every inch of his face.
Nico Daugherty was, for lack of a better word, hot. There was something about the chiseled lines of his narrow face, the aristocratic nose, the high arch of his eyebrows. From the first time Chelsea introduced him to her boyfriend years ago, Stone had dropped Nico into the “I’d do him” category. And thanks to the rigorous football regimen, he was ripped. It was about the only thing Chelsea ever talked about because, according to her, being a tight end wasn’t nearly as cool as being quarterback, which was why Chelsea was always harping on Nico to be better.
Then again, nothing and no one was ever really good enough for Chelsea. Stone loved her, but Jesus, was she a spoiled bitch.
But bitch or not, she was still his sister.
“What was Chelsea tellin’ everybody?” Stone asked, wanting the complete story—Nico’s version, at least.
