Wrong For Me

He’s being foolish in his thinking. Soon, my dad will be home, and Alec will be gone, probably back to wherever he was, and the threat that’s impelling Rowan will be gone.

So, should he kiss me today and that happen tomorrow, where would that leave us?

“He’s gone.”

My tear-stricken face lifts to Alec. I quickly glance away, wiping my eyes with the sleeve of my sweater. “Yep.”

“What’s your problem?”

A chuckle escapes me, and I sniffle, shaking my head. “Again with those people skills.”

“What’d he do?” he growls.

“Nothing, Alec.” I fight the wave of new tears.

He steps closer, and my heart starts hammering in my chest.

My gaze flies to his, and I watch him watch me, seeing the creases that begin to form around his eyes.

I take a deep breath when his hand lifts, bracing myself for his touch. The second his calloused knuckle finds my cheek, my eyes flutter closed. And, with a gentleness I didn’t know he possessed, he wipes away the tears his brother caused, leaving nothing but warmth behind.

With a deep sigh, his hand falls to his side, and he walks away without another word.

I stand there, taking a few minutes to catch my breath and calm my nerves.

As I go to pass his room, a question dawns on me. “The break-in …”

He lifts his head but doesn’t turn around as he takes his watch off.

“They only broke the garage door and lock, yet you changed them all. Why?”

“You really wanna hear the answer to that right now? From what I can tell, Rowan said something that threw you off your game tonight.”

“Why’d you change all the locks, Alec?”

He pulls his phone from his pocket, dropping it beside his watch as he turns to face me. “It’s simple really. Rowan had a key, and that’s not fucking acceptable.”

“What makes you think I won’t give him a new key?”

“Try it, Oakley.” His dark eyes narrow. “I’ll change them again. Even you won’t have a key.”

My brows pinch. “This is my house. If anything, I’ll change them, and you won’t have one.”

A sinister laugh leaves him, and he starts toward me. “Pull some shit, Oakley. I dare you.”

“And if I do?”

“Try it and find out,” he snarls.

“You’re psychotic.”

“We’ve been over this.”

“I hate you.”

“You sure wish you did, don’t you?” He gets closer. “It would make this a lot easier, wouldn’t it? Tell me, when you stir in the middle of the night, pulling out that little red vibrator from under your mattress, who is it you’re thinking about?”

I gasp, pushing away from him, but he cages me against the frame of the door, his pec muscles brushing against my chest.

“Yeah, I hear you. Hear you grab your sheets, hear your head thrash against your pillow, the soft muted mewls that leave you.”

He licks his lips, and I slump against the frame, the metal from the door clasp digging into my back.

His head tips, his forehead sliding across my hair until those lips are near my ear.

I squeeze my eyes closed.

“I’m with you every time, princess,” he breathes, and heat pools between my legs. “My dick is in my hand while yours is on your pussy.”

“Alec …” I plea. For him to keep talking or to stop, I don’t know.

“Then, every time I nut, every time I hear you nut, I get angry.” He slides his lips lower, so his warm breath fans my neck. “Ask me why.”

“W-why?” I pant.

“Because he’ll never be able to make you feel like I can. And you’re too senseless to see it.”

My eyes fly open, my head pulling back to glare at him. “You’re an asshole.”

“I know, but I’m right, which is why you haven’t denied it.”

I squeeze past him, my heart hammering in my chest in horny anger. It doesn’t help that when I pass, his very solid, very apparent hard-on slides across my hip.

I storm into my room, kicking the pillows that have fallen from my bed.

How dare he, and—oh my God, he listens to me masturbate!

Worse … he sits outside my room and jacks off to thoughts of me, to sounds I make.

Anger flares inside me as the ache builds. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to force away the need, but it only makes it more intense, more overpowering.

With a low growl, I drop onto my bed, reaching under my covers for my tiny vibrator. A quarter of the size of the perfectly capable dick two rooms down and across the hall.

I scowl at the ceiling, spinning the hard rubber in my hand.

This is him winning.

Ever since we were young, he’s controlled the situation, and I’ve backed away, the broken coward. But, tonight, he showed his cards, laid out more than ever before.

Alec wants me, straight up.

I’m tired of being the weak one where men are concerned.

Shutting off my brain, I throw all inhibitions out the window.