Stepbrother Weekend (Filthy Dirty Desires)

She slaps my shoulder hard with the dish towel and grabs a spatula from the drying rack.

“You know, so far you’re not a very good brother!” she hisses as she points the spatula at my face like it’s a weapon. “I was excited to have a stepbrother. I wanted to sit on my bed and talk or play games.”

“That’s what I want too,” I say with a heated gaze. “To sit on your bed and play games.”

“That’s not what I—Mmmphh!!!”

She spins around with a frustrated grunt, rips open the drawer, and throws the spatula in.

“You’re unbelievable!” she hisses. “I don’t think I want a stepbrother anymore.”

“You’re just not used to me yet. But don’t worry, we’ll get nice and close in the fall.”

“You’re not moving with me!” she snaps. Oooh, I like the fire in those blue eyes. I didn’t know she had it in her. I want to see more of it.

“That’s not what you said at dinner.”

“I know what I said at dinner!” she hisses as she yanks a plate out of the rack and begins to dry it way too aggressively. “It’s never going to happen!”

“Think about it,” I say as I step in closer, keeping my voice low. “So far from home. Lonely. Afraid. Don’t you want your big strong stepbrother to keep you warm and feeling safe all night long?”

Her breath hitches in her throat as she looks up at me. She’s trying to keep the defiance in her eyes, but I can tell that the thought is tempting her. It’s an enticing picture. She wants to curl up to me at night. She’d love to have my big comforting arms wrapped around her. The thought of sharing a bed with me, across the country from our parents, is an alluring one. A tantalizing one. An unforgettable one.

“Never. Going to. Happen!”

I chuckle as she shoves the damp dish towel into my chest and storms out of the kitchen. My eyes are on her perfect little ass until she disappears, stomping down the stairs before slamming her bedroom door closed.

Our first stepbrother-stepsister fight.

One of many I’m sure…

I just can’t wait until we get to kiss and make up…

CHAPTER FOUR

Eleanor

* * *

“You guys go ahead,” Tanner says, waving to our parents at the ski hill. “I’ll ride Eleanor.”

“Ride with Eleanor,” I correct in a tight voice.

He’s leaning on his ski poles, flashing me that frustrating grin. “What did I say?”

“You know what you said.”

He chuckles as he begins skiing toward the line for the chairlift.

I don’t want him to think he’s gotten under my skin so I follow him. Dave and my mom are up ahead, close to getting on. They’re laughing and having a great time. Unlike me. Being with my new stepbrother is a special kind of hell.

“I thought we talked about this last night,” I say in a strained voice. “Don’t you remember?”

We shuffle up as the line moves.

“I remember you telling me you wanted me on your bed.”

My heart is pounding angrily in my chest as I glare up at him. “That’s not what I meant.”

“But that’s what you said.”

My teeth are going to shatter I’m clenching them so hard.

“I can be on your bed if you want. On your bed, in your bed, under your bed—whatever you’re into.”

“I’m into keeping my family relationships platonic.”

The couple in front of us both turn and give us a strange, confused look.

“She’s my stepsister,” Tanner says to them with a charming smile. “She wants me.”

“No, I don’t!”

Their confused faces turn to horror.

“I’m sorry. He’s an idiot.”

They quickly turn around and thankfully disappear on the next chairlift, getting whisked away into the sky.

I shake my head as I look at him in disbelief. “You are an idiot.”

He cracks a smile and before I can stop myself, I’m laughing too.

We line up for the chairlift and instead of sitting at opposite ends like any two normal people, Tanner sits directly beside me.

It’s too late to push him away. The chairlift comes slamming into the back of our legs, we sit down, and get yanked into the air—side by side.

“I bet you’re a great skier,” he says as we rise high over the ski trails below. It’s a beautiful warm winter day with perfect conditions. It’s all powdery snow and I’m eager to take out my abundant energy and frustrations on the slopes.

“As a matter of fact, I am.”

“I’m not surprised.”

I turn to him with a glare. It’s got to be a trap. He’s going to say how good I am at gripping onto poles, or spreading my legs, or that the conditions look warm and slushy.

But he doesn’t say a word. He just looks out, admiring the stunning view of the mountains all around us. I swallow hard as I admire his face. He’s very handsome when his mouth is shut, I’ll give him that.