- Home
- Ward, Scarlett
Side Swiped By My Step Brother Page 8
Side Swiped By My Step Brother Read online
Page 8
“No! Never. I thought it was pretty lucky on your part for him to be your first. You should’ve seen the first guy I ended up meeting online. His profile picture was like twenty years old or something, he was in his forties! And hairy. It was awful. But that really has nothing to do with this, and I really have no idea what you’re talking about! So will you please just tell me what’s happening? You’re being kind of weird.”
“Do you know who Jai’s father is?”
“I have no idea.”
“It’s Zack Carter.”
A confused look crosses Megan’s face. “Zack . . . Carter?”
“Yes. As in, the Zack Carter that my mother will be marrying tomorrow. At his lake house, apparently, they decided to change the location at the last minute.”
Megan’s mouth drops open. “Wait a minute. You’re telling me that Jai is going to be your stepbrother?”
“Apparently, yes.”
“Oh my god. No fucking way. Holy shit, Emma, I had no idea! Wait—did you think that I knew and set you up?”
She’s talking loudly, but instead of sounding upset or horrified, she sounds absolutely thrilled. In fact, she’s got a huge grin on her face.
“What is so fucking funny?” I snap. “And yes, that did cross my mind. I mean, I would hope you wouldn’t do something like that, because that would be seriously messed up, but it seems a little odd that you go and set up a dating profile for me and the first guy I end up meeting is, not only married, but also going to be my stepbrother.” I stand up. “And I’ve got to get out of this dress, it’s like a goddamn death corset.”
“No, no, no.” Megan’s laughing. “No way in hell did I know about that. But that’s so hot. Like, seriously—what are the chances? What are the chances that this would happen, of all the people that you could’ve met online? Oh my fucking god.” She clasps a hand across her chest and then falls back onto the bed, sighing dramatically. “I didn’t have anything to do with it, but I wish I did. I wish I could take credit for that. It’s so hot. You’re like living your own Harlequin romance.”
“Hot? Hot? It’s like incest. He’s going to be my family. I just spent all last night having sex with a future family member. That’s not hot at all, it’s repulsive. I’m disgusting. I’m like some sort of sexual deviant.”
Megan sits up and waves me off. “No, you’re not. And yes, he is technically going to be your family, but it’s not like he’s going to be your grandfather or something. He’s your stepbrother. And really, he’s not even your stepbrother yet since the wedding hasn’t happened, so you don’t actually need to be feeling bad about any of this. Unless . . .” She gives me a wicked grin, “unless it means that you’re planning on sleeping with him again.”
“No! No!” But I think about how it felt with him pressing me against the building, hidden in the dark shadows, like we were doing something really bad. Then I think about how good I felt after I told him off, but I wonder if that was just like a precursor, like a form of verbal foreplay or something. I squeeze my eyes shut. “No,” I say.
“I don’t know if I believe you,” Megan says in a sing-song voice.
“I have to go change.”
I go through the walk-in closet and into my own room. I peel the dress off, and it finally feels like I can take a proper breath.
“So what did he say?” Megan asks. She comes into my room and sits cross-legged on the bed while I rifle through my underwear drawer. I should just put some old ratty cotton underwear on, the kind I usually save for when I have my period and feel gross, but I pick out a black lace g-string and matching bra. I’m doing it for me, not for him, I tell myself as I slide them on.
“He didn’t really seem to care.” Regardless of how sexy my underwear is, after spending all of dinner in a death corset, my outerwear is going to be comfortable and decidedly un-sexy: black yoga pants and a t-shirt.
“That’s not surprising. Most guys wouldn’t give a shit about something like that. It probably makes him want to fuck you even more, if anything.”
I go back to the closet and get my gym back down from the shelf. I throw in some more underwear, a few shirts and tank tops, a skirt, two pairs of shorts, another pair of yoga pants, and my bathing suit.
“Are you running away?” Megan asks.
“No, the party’s continuing at the lake house, remember? I have to spend the next two weeks at Jai’s father’s lake house. It will be a good opportunity for me to let Jai know that I’m serious about what I said.”
“What’d you say?”
I give her the abbreviated version, leaving out the part where he was squeezing my nipples and making out with me.
“Wow,” she says when I’m done. “You really said all that?”
“Of course I did.” I go back to the closet and get the dress I’m supposed to wear tomorrow. It’s a dark, rich pink, with a snug bodice and a flowing skirt. I leave it on the hanger and lay it over the top of the gym bag.
“Don’t forget your shoes,” Megan says.
“The problem with people like him is that they think they can just use their looks to get whatever they want.”
“He is hot. And he’s got that accent, on top of everything else.”
“But it’s not right. It’s not right that he’s got a wife somewhere—”
Megan’s eyes widen. “Is she going to at the wedding?”
“I have no clue. She wasn’t at that dinner, I don’t think, unless she was hiding the whole time. She’s probably sitting at home in London, wondering what the hell he’s up to. Or maybe she has no idea. That would be worse—if she is just totally in love with him and happy and thinks that everything is perfect.” I sigh. “Kind of like how I was with Tom. In the beginning, anyway.” I sit back down on the bed. Being here in a familiar place, with just Megan around, the magnitude of everything that’s happened in the past twenty-four hours is really sinking in. I’ve done a horrible thing, and there’s still a tiny part of me that wants to do it again, that wants to be with him. I try to tell myself that this is a normal, biological response—of course your mind is going to want you to do things that make it feel good, whether or not these things are right or not. There’s nothing wrong with that—what is wrong is giving in to it when you know you shouldn’t. Like I’ve done twice already. I put my head in my hands. “This whole thing is such a mess.”
I feel Megan’s hand on my back. “It’s going to be okay,” she says. “Please don’t beat yourself up, over it, Emma. You’re really going to be all right. I feel bad. I shouldn’t have signed you up for that dating site. I just wanted you to . . . you know, have some fun, meet someone new. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” I lift my head and take a deep breath. “Just think good thoughts for me, okay? Think good thoughts that I make it through these next few days without doing something totally stupid.”
“You’re going to be just fine,” Megan says, with far more confidence in me than I actually feel.
“I hope you’re right.”
“You will. It’s a strange situation, sure, but it’s nothing that you can’t handle. But how was the dinner? He was there, wasn’t he?”
“Oh, he was there all right.”
She grins. “I wish I had been there! The sexual tension must’ve been crazy! Was he like sitting across from you, eye fucking you the whole time?”
“Will you please shut up? Just stop talking about it.”
“He was! Emma, this is so hot. I would love to be in your shoes right now, you have no idea.”
“Well, maybe you should go have sex with him. That would be better, because you guys aren’t going to be family.” But once the words are out of my mouth, I realize how much I wouldn’t actually want that to happen. How I don’t want to think about him with another girl. “This is so completely fucked.”
Chapter Twelve
Jai
Walking into the lake house for the first time after so many years is a bit surreal. Dad heads straight for
the kitchen to pour another round of drinks for everyone, but I take my bag and go into my bedroom. The inside of my lower lip stings. I stick the tip of my tongue into the mangled crevice. Christ, she got me good.
It’s going to be an interesting couple of weeks, that’s for sure. Normally, I’d be able to brush something like this off, forget about it in a matter of seconds, and get on with things, but for some reason, the whole situation has me feeling a bit squirrely. Not a sensation that I like or am comfortable with, mind you. I’m not used to getting mixed signals like this from a girl, though. Not at all.
I go into the bathroom. It’s connected to one of the guest rooms, and I’m not sure who’s going to be staying in there, if anyone, so I push the door shut before splashing cold water on my face. I pull my lower lip out and down and inspect at the wound, which actually feels far worse than it looks.
I’m agitated, which is not the condition I want to be in right now, and especially not over a girl. I pace in front of the window. I could go back downstairs, get drunk, come back up here and have a good wank and fall asleep, but I’m not particularly interested in being in anyone’s company at the moment. A small part of me is curious as to what this surprise is that Dad has for me, though it’s probably something stupid, like a new set of golf clubs.
At times like these, I wish I still smoked.
I get my laptop from my bag and go and sit on the bed. No way in hell am I logging back on to Sugar, but I do hop onto another similar site and in no time I’m chatting with a bird who goes by the name of misstrix.
Is that really you in the profile pic? she writes.
Yes, I type back. Are those your real tits?
We could meet up and u could find out :D What sorts of things r u into?
All sorts.
Omg me2. Ur hot. Lets hookup.
My dick is about as hard as an earthworm on a rainy day. The person I am conversing with is probably little more than a teenager. No thanks. I close the laptop without replying and push the computer off to the side. Emma is probably at her apartment right now, packing a little bag to bring over here. I imagine her getting some of that sexy underwear that she said she likes to wear under her tomboy clothes. I think about her standing there tonight after we got ice cream, that look on her face, squeezing those delectable nipples of hers. Now my dick starts to get hard, and I’m not even touching myself. But I don’t actually want to be getting turned on by her, or the thought of her, because she’s being so fucking uptight about all of it. That’s what I don’t get about women: why they always have to bring all this emotional baggage into everything they do. Nothing is ever simple and straightforward; there’s always got to be some deeper emotional issue at play. If it was just about feeling good and doing what made you happy, Emma and I would have no problems at all. We could screw each other’s brains out and have a good time. Not have to be concerned about what other people might think. Because if they knew how good the sex was, they’d be jealous as bloody hell.
Chapter Thirteen
Emma
Zack’s lake house is not quite a mansion, but almost. It looks like a Spanish villa, with the red tile roof and cathedral windows, a sprawling green, perfectly manicured. Mom greets me as I step through the front door, glass of wine in hand.
“Isn’t this place amazing?” she says. “Wait until you see the view of the lake tomorrow—it’s practically in the backyard. It’s incredible.”
“The house is beautiful.” We’re standing in the foyer, and straight ahead of me is the staircase, which goes up about eight stairs before splitting, with one staircase going to the left, the other to the right. A chandelier, crystals twinkling, hangs above my head.
Mom ushers me out to the back patio, where Zack and my sister and several people whose names I’ve already forgotten are. I sit down, take the glass of wine that’s being offered, and then try to smother a yawn behind my hand. From here, the lawn slopes gently down, and I can see the dark water of the lake. My mother was right—the lake practically is in the backyard.
“Isn’t this place incredible?” Jessica whispers to me. She’s got a glass of wine, too. She holds her glass up to mine and we clink them together. “Zack has jet skis we can use.”
Zack hears her say this and grins. “We’ve got all the fun toys. And you can use whatever you want. I want you to make yourself feel right at home here.”
“That’s really kind of you, but I don’t know how good I’ll be on a jet ski,” I say. And the jet skis he has are probably insanely expensive; I can just seem myself crashing it into someone’s yacht or something. I try to stifle another yawn. I look around the table. Jai isn’t there. I feel a little relieved and a little disappointed at this realization. “I don’t think I’ve ever actually been on one before. I’m not the most coordinated person in the world.”
“Oh, you’ll be fine,” Zack says. “And you know who’s really great on it—Jai. If you need any pointers, he’s your man. In fact, I’m sure he’d be more than happy to go out with you the first couple of times.”
“What?” I say sharply, sitting upright. It feels as though my heart has stopped. Did he just something about Jai and I going out? Did Jai say something to him when they were driving over here?
“Yeah, you know, take you out on the jet ski the first time or two, so you can get used to it. Or not.” Zack shrugs. “They’re pretty easy to get the hang of.”
“Oh, yeah. Of course.” I relax a little, though I can see, out of the corner of my eye, Jessica looking at me curiously. “I knew that’s what you meant. I could probably get the hang of it, if it’s not too difficult.”
“You seem a little on edge,” Jessica says quietly. I take a sip of wine.
“I’m fine. It’s just been a long day. I’m pretty tired, actually. I don’t even know what time it is.”
“You don’t have to stay up all night if you don’t want to,” Mom says. “And it is getting rather late. Do you want me to show you where you’ll be sleeping?”
“That would be great. I’m sorry, I’m just really tired.”
“Aw, come on, just have one more glass of wine with me,” Jess says, pulling on my arm.
“They’ll be plenty of time for more wine later,” Mom says. “If she’s tired, let her get some sleep.” She smiles at me. “Come on; I’ll show you where you’re going to sleep.”
I say goodnight to everyone and follow my mother inside. I grab my duffel bag and the dress.
“I hope that dress fits you better than the one you wore tonight,” she says as we walk up the stairs.
“It will, I promise. I didn’t mean to show up to the dinner in that dress—the whole day was kind of a disaster.”
My mother stops when she reaches the top of the stairs. “You have seemed a bit flustered all evening. You’re sure everything okay?”
I try to force a smile. “Yeah, Mom. Everything’s fine.”
Her gaze goes to my neck. “That really is quite the . . . love bite. I see you’ve lost the scarf somewhere.”
“I’ll get you a new one. I . . . I don’t know what happened to it.”
“Don’t worry about it. And—you can tell me it’s none of my business if you want, but . . . are you seeing someone? Because if there is someone special in your life, and you’d like to invite him to the wedding, I’d love to meet him. He could even come out here and spend a few days with us, too.”
“Uh, no. I’m definitely not seeing someone.”
She gives me a conspiratorial look. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it yet. And it’s okay if you’re just going out there and having a little fun, too. You deserve it, after everything that Tom put you through.” She starts walking again, and I fall in step behind her, glad that her back is to me and she can’t see the expression on my face. I feel so tired I don’t know if I can keep this up much longer, and if she asks anymore questions, I’m likely to just come clean and tell her that it was Jai who was responsible for the “love bite” on my nec
k.
“Well, here we are. This is the room you’ll be staying in is right here,” Mom says. She pushes the door open. “And Zack really meant it when he said to make yourself at home. He’s really happy to have us here, all under the same roof. Now you should get some sleep. We’ve all had a long day. A busy and fulfilling day, but I think everyone will sleep well tonight.” She gives me a hug. “Good night, sweetheart.”
“Good night.”
I go into the room and drop my bag at the foot of the bed. I throw the dress on the bed, even though I should probably hang it up. I look around. The room is sparsely decorated, very modern. The bed is a queen, on a platform. A purple orchid sits in a terra cotta pot on one of the bedside tables. There’s two wingback chairs by the window, a dresser, a circular rug in the middle of the floor made up of geometric shapes in primary colors. The bed does look awfully inviting.
I yawn again, glad that I’ll have the chance to get a good night’s sleep, also relieved that I didn’t run into Jai tonight. Who knows—maybe I can avoid him the entire time I’m here.
I start to get undressed, stripping down to my bra and underwear. It’s distracting, knowing that Jai is somewhere under this very roof. I hate that I’m still even thinking about him, after all this. I pick up the dress off the bed and go over to the closet door. I open it, but it turns out it’s not a closet, but a bathroom. I turn the light on. It’s gleaming, all polished marble and the shiny chrome of the faucet. My reflection stares back at me in the large mirror over the sink.
I’m hanging the dress off the shower curtain rod when a door I assumed was a linen closet opens. I jump. It’s Jai. His pants are still on but he’s shirtless, and he jumps a little too when he sees me. The surprised look quickly vanishes off his face though. Behind him, I can see into the other room, another bedroom.
“What are you doing?” I snap.
A fleeting smile crosses his face. “What am I doing? I’m coming in here to take a shower. What are you doing?”