Never Kiss a Stranger (15 page)

My teeth grazed over my bottom lip as I stifled a moan. I didn’t want to look at him. I didn’t want to know if he was looking at me with deep longing or unforgivable hatred. It felt like love, the way he was fucking me, but it was easier to pretend everything was fine if I didn’t have to see his face. I easily replaced it with the way I saw him in my memory: strong and resilient with mischief in his eyes. Crazy about me.

My lower back ached as every thrust forced it to rub against the wood of the door, but none of that mattered. The physical pain on the outside was miniscule compared to what was going on inside me. My body and heart worked in tandem to soak in every detail of that moment from the smell of the cologne that faintly floated from the collar of his white shirt to the way his hair felt as I gripped the back of his neck. My mind quieted itself, as if to graciously give us all a break.

Wilder groaned as he released himself inside me and I let go, riding an intense wave of all-consuming pleasure as my hips bucked wildly in response to his writhing cock.

When it was all over, he pulled out of me and I slid down the wall, my knees buckling and threatening to give out. I needed someone, or something, to cling onto before I crumpled.

I forced my eyes open, looking at him for the first time since he’d kissed me, the memory of which would forever be burned into my lips. I drank him in, starting with the two pools of blue staring into my soul. He was real. He was there. He’d just fucked me. And I had loved every second of it.

Emptiness infiltrated my spirit once again as I accepted the fact that he was no longer a part of me. I tugged my skirt down my thighs and straightened my blouse. I dared myself to speak, but I chickened out.

His buckled his pants while tears filled my eyes once again. I wanted to go back to the way we were. I wanted to smile again. I wanted to wake up next to him every morning and rush home from a long day of work and happily lose myself in a tangled web of sheets and sex. I wanted his fingers in my hair and his mouth owning every square inch of real estate on my naked body.

Uncontrollable tears pooled in my eyes before trailing down my cheeks and splashing in tiny drops on the tops of my bare feet. I couldn’t stop them if I tried. I wanted to be with him, but no amount of desire or secret fuck sessions would ever change the reality of our situation.

Wilder left my presence and returned moments later with a handful of tissues, dabbing my cheeks. How ironic that I was the one who’d hurt him so badly, and yet there he was, wiping my tears.

I didn’t deserve him and yet I needed him more than I needed the air I breathed. I stumbled to the living room, falling into the overstuffed chair and burying my face in my arm. My shoulders heaved with every sob that escaped my mouth, but my face stayed hidden. I didn’t want him to see me like that, and I couldn’t look at him again.

“This has to be the last time,” I sobbed. “This can’t happen again.”

His silence killed me. Absolutely killed me. I needed to know what he was thinking, but then again, none of it would’ve made a difference.

There was only one solution to all of this: I had to fall out of love with him.

“Please, just go,” I hiccupped into my arm.

Silence.

I felt him, just mere feet from me. He lingered for a second. And then I listened as the soles of his shoes echoed toward the door. I didn’t look up again until I’d heard it slam behind him. He was only doing what I’d asked, but it didn’t keep my heart from shattering into countless slivers that ached with every beat.

There’s a certain kind of power in words unspoken. Which was why I said nothing the entire time I was fucking my stepsister.

Stepsister
. The word is such a fucking joke when you’re a grown man. It conjures up an image of a bratty, pig-tailed, pimple-faced little girl who chases you around and tries to annoy you. You’re forced to live together like one picture-perfect family as your parents pretend you’re blood related. You take family vacations and do your best to get along, creating memories you’ll someday laugh about when you’re all grown.

But I didn’t have that experience with her. Not a damn bone in my body saw her in any kind of sisterly way. We didn’t have a history—not like that, anyway.

I’d spotted her walking home around three that afternoon, and I recognized the pained look on her face. It was the exact same one I’d been wearing since I saw her that morning. So I followed her. I wanted to know if she meant what she said.

It wasn’t my intention to fuck her up against a wall and bury myself balls deep inside her as she cried and wordlessly begged for more. In a way it was fucked up on both our parts, and there weren’t any words that would’ve made any kind of sense out of what we did.

So I said nothing. It was better that way. She needed to feel my love, not hear about it. I could give her a million reasons as to why we could—why we should—try to make it work, but none would hold a flame to the way my body spoke to hers when we were together.

As far as I was concerned, she knew how I felt. I wasn’t afraid to face our strange predicament head on and take what belonged to me. But I wasn’t going to chase her around like some pathetic, pining jackass.

The ball was in her court.

* * *

The following afternoon, I headed to tour another dilapidated building Addison had emailed me about that morning. I checked my email and spouted off the address to my driver and within twenty minutes, he dropped me off in front of an abandoned warehouse in China Town.

I headed inside, my heart squeezing tight with each step I took. I’d done a little research on the property when she told me about the listing, but it wasn’t the property I was interested in that day. I just wanted to see her again.

My mouth twitched into a smile as I thought about what she’d probably do. Knowing Addison, she’d act all professional and pretend like nothing happened, and then she’d nonchalantly slink her body a certain way or step into my space and quietly plead for me to take her again.

Fine. If that was what she wanted, that was what I’d give to her. I had no problem fucking her in secret and biding my time until our parents’ eventual divorce.

I yanked the door open to the warehouse office, clearing my throat before stepping inside.

“Mr. Van Cleef.” A young blonde with stacked tits spilling from her shirt and makeup-caked eyes sat perched on an abandoned desk. She rose and popped her hand out to offer a shake. If her top were any lower, the pink of her nipples would’ve been showing. “Hi, I’m Skylar. I’m Ms. Andrews’ assistant. She’s really sorry. She couldn’t make it, so she sent me. I hope that’s all right.”

A wide grin plastered across the lower half of her face as she tried to hide her attraction toward me. Young women like her were horrible at hiding that shit. She couldn’t take her eyes off me, walking a little too close as we left the office and rambling on like a nervous, giddy schoolgirl.

With an armful of paperwork about the listing, she blathered on about the property like a complete amateur, stumbling over certain real estate terms. If Addison didn’t want to see me, she could’ve at least sent someone with half a brain and a little bit of experience to fill in.

“I’m sorry, where did you say Addison was?” I interrupted her.

Skylar’s eyes flew to the left as her brows scrunched, almost as if she wasn’t expecting that question and had to search for an excuse on the spot. She swept her bleach blonde hair over her shoulder and popped her chest out. “I think she had another appointment? Maybe. I don’t know.”

“You’re her assistant,” I said, stepping back. “You don’t know her schedule?”

“I think something came up.” Skylar forced a nervous smile as she twirled her hair between two manicured fingers. Her big brown eyes looked me up and down as if I were some guy she was meeting for drinks and a casual fuck. She probably didn’t even realize she was doing it.

“Don’t bullshit me here.” I paced toward the door. “I’m sorry, Skylar. This isn’t about you. I have to go.”

“But wait,” she called, her heels clicking on the industrial floor as she followed me. “Don’t you want to see the rest of the building first?”

I shook my head and offered a single wave as I headed back out to my town car. My breath low and heavy, it took everything I had to maintain my composure. After what we did the day before, she should’ve at least had the decency to tell me herself that she wasn’t coming.

Angry, trembling fingers dialed her number, and just when I thought she was about to let it go to voicemail, she answered.

“Hi, Wilder.” She spoke slowly, her words a timid, quiet whisper.

“You sent your assistant? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Calm down. It’s not that big of a deal. I got caught up at work.”

“You couldn’t have told me yourself?”

“Something came up last minute and I didn’t think it’d be that big of a deal.”

“Bull-fucking-shit, Addison. You knew exactly what you were doing.” I raked my hand down across my face, pulling hard on the skin of my cheeks until it bounced back. I was sure I’d left marks, but I didn’t care. “By the way, your assistant is a terrible liar. And you should tell her it’s not professional to throw herself at your clients.”

“I hope you were nicer to her than you’re being to me.” Her words were quick and almost entitled, as if I owed it to be cordial after the fucking hack job she’d done on my heart.

“God, Addison,” I growled. “I was fucking balls deep in that uptight pussy of yours yesterday. The least you can do is be honest with me and not avoid me like some kind of coward.”

Her end of the phone was silent a little too long, though I heard her draw in a long, slow breath. “You want honesty? Fine. I need space.”

“Space?! Space from what? Yesterday was the first time I’d seen you in two weeks.”

“I need even more space so I can fall out of love with you.”

Her action that afternoon was like a knife to my heart, and her words were the final twist.

So that was it. She loved me, and she didn’t want to love me anymore. I couldn’t keep fighting a losing battle.

“You want space?” I seethed. “Fine. See you at Christmas, sis.”

I hung up on her. It wasn’t a classy move, but an angry Wilder was far from a classy Wilder.

My phone vibrated in my hand, and for a split second I hoped maybe it was her, calling to say she took it all back. That she didn’t give a fuck about what anyone else thought. She wanted to be with me.

Instead, it was my father.

Groaning, I debated letting it go to voicemail, but then again, I didn’t want to miss
the phone call
. The one I always got after he’d been with a woman for an indeterminate amount of time. The one where he called to say he was leaving her and things weren’t working out the way he’d hoped.

“Hey, Dad,” I said, my voice probably a little too chipper.

“Wilder, hi! You answered.” He seemed pleasantly surprised to hear my voice, and he sure as hell didn’t sound like a man who was ending a marriage so fresh the ink wasn’t even dry on the paperwork yet. “How you doing, son? Haven’t heard from you since we left town a couple weeks ago. How’s life?”

I didn’t want to talk about it. Not with him. “Things are fine. What’s up?”

“Just calling to see if you’re coming on vacation with the family in a couple weeks.”

Shit. I’d completely forgotten. He’d casually mentioned it that day we spent together, but my mind was so focused on other things I’d neglected to give it much thought beyond that.

“Oh,” I said, searching for a believable excuse. “Two weeks? Um…”

“You said it shouldn’t be a problem,” he said. “That’s what you told me. I booked us a five-bedroom house right on the beach. One of those timeshares I wanted you to invest in with me.”

That’s what it was all about. He didn’t give two shits about family time. He wanted to get me to see the timeshares, like that’d be the final nail in the coffin of the shady deal he wanted to finalize with me. I had no intentions of agreeing to let him take two million dollars of my hard earned money and plug some leaking ship with it, but I’d have to figure out a way to tell him that another time.

“Are the girls going?” I asked.

“They sure are. Tammy Lynn just booked their flights this morning. I’m looking at their itineraries right now. I just need to know if you’re going, son. I can put it on my credit card for Sky Miles and then write it off for work since we’re looking at properties.”

Addison’s words played in my head. She asked for space. She didn’t want to see me. Showing up in Florida would upset her, and as fucking pissed as I was about the whole thing, I wasn’t that big of an asshole.

“Aw, don’t make me beg,” my dad laughed. “I really want you to come. Tammy Lynn’s so excited. She’s got all these big family dinners planned. We’ll be right on the ocean. There’s a beautiful, private beach just a short walk away. The house we’re staying in has been renovated and each bedroom has a suite.”

He sounded like such a salesman.

“Let me get back to you on that,” I said. “I have to take a look at my schedule. I’ll let you know soon.”

“Plane tickets get more expensive the closer you get to the dates,” my dad said. Sometimes he still spoke to me as if I were a broke college student and not an independently wealthy man. “You know that. Anyway, just let me know.”

“I can get my own ticket, Dad. That is, if I go. Again, I’ll let you know.”