The Stepbrother (Red's Tavern 5)

“That is not all I want,” he said, sharp. “Not anymore.”

“Well, I don’t buy it,” I said. “And don’t complain about not having friends if you’re putting in zero effort to be a good friend yourself.”

His expression had changed like a sudden turn for bad weather. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You know I’m fucking right,” I said. I didn’t back down from anyone, no matter who it was.

“Shut up,” he said.

“Go fuck yourself,” I said, not breaking his gaze. Heat flared inside me.

He let out a low, satisfied laugh, the anger from his face finally vanishing as something lit up in his eyes. We weren’t hugging anymore, but my hands were still on his shoulders, where I’d gripped him a little harder as we snipped at each other. The look in his eyes was smoldering, and I got a sensation like he was heating my body up from the inside.

It was fucking weird. And the weirdest thing about it was that my cock seemed to respond to the conflict by being a gigantic fucking traitor and getting half-hard under my swim trunks. Since when had verbal sparring been something that turned me on?

Thank God my bottom half was underwater.

“You really do have a fighting streak in you,” Fox said. “Do you really think you could take me, Hartman?”

He got up closer to me, right in my face, the chlorinated water bobbing in the small space between us.

“I don’t know, Nicholas,” I said. “I guess you’ll have to find out for yourself, someday.”

Before I could even finish speaking he had leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine in a kiss. I took my hands off of his shoulders instantly, like I’d been touching a hot stove, startled and so goddamn confused.

What the actual fuck?

But I didn’t move my mouth away from his. I couldn’t. His kiss was soft and chaste, but somehow felt packed with all of the fierce aggression in the world.

Fox was fucking kissing me, all because he knew exactly how to shock me, to press my buttons, to knock me completely out of the orbit of sanity. This was how he was winning. With this kiss, he was daring me to freak out. He was one-upping me. And he knew damn well it would work.

He only let it linger for a couple of seconds, but it may as well have been an eternity. He finally pulled back, looking me in the eye one more time, his eyes half-lidded. My body called out for more, like every cell inside of me was just as much a traitor as my cock had been.

But then a smile spread over his lips, and immediately, it was contagious. He chuckled softly as a sharp, disbelieving laugh escaped my lungs. We both broke into a fit of laughter.

“Fuck you,” I said. I started laughing so hard I had to wipe my eyes. I thanked the Lord above that the bout of giggles had finally made my cock behave again. Apparently I was so needy for human touch that even Fox’s shock-value closeness could make my cock betray me.

“I’m sorry,” he said, pushing his hair back.

“You don’t have to apologize, you just have to know you’re a terrible kisser,” I said.

“I’m drunk as hell and I’ve been in and out of a pool all day,” he said. “Give me a break. It’s not like that was a real kiss.”

“Good, because if a guy kissed me like that, I sure as hell wouldn’t invite him home,” I said.

It was mostly a lie. He wasn’t a bad kisser at all—actually, I was pretty sure it was a good kiss, and his lips were really plush and warm and inviting.

I’d wanted more, actually.

But I definitely wasn’t going to tell him that. I could barely process it myself. I wasn’t supposed to enjoy Fox at all, especially not in that way. And I also wasn’t about to admit that being near him and hearing his stupid blowjob stories had made my cock have a mind of its own beneath the water, anyway. I was usually an open book, but Fox didn’t need to know that much about me.

“I’m going to bed,” I said. I got out quickly, water rushing down my body as I walked off. My heart was still pounding deep inside me, and I desperately needed some alone time. “Bright and early at eight in the morning tomorrow, we’re leaving. Get some damn sleep, and don’t make us late.”

“I have my own RV,” Fox said, stepping out of the pool after me. “I can take as long as I want.”

And there he was again. The cocky, petulant king. The Fox I’d always known.

“Good night, Fox.”

4

Fox

“Obviously cake.”

“Well, I actually think pie might be better—”

“Yeah, might be. But it’s not.”

“What do you want, your birthday candles in a cherry pie? It just isn’t right!”