Side Swiped By My Step Brother (21 page)

              “They’re good at making you come, though.”

              “Jai!”

              “Sorry. That was the last time I’ll make any sibling references, okay? I mean, really, the whole thing’s pretty funny, if you ask me, but if the only thing that is keeping us apart is the fact that our parents got married, well . . . we just don’t ever have to think of each other as brother and sister, okay? Step brother and sister, really. And that’s nothing but a label. The thing is, Emma, I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve missed you. It’s been really fucking hard not knowing where you’ve been all this time, not getting to talk to you, not getting to hear what you’ve been up to. Not seeing you, not touching you. I just haven’t been able to get you out of my mind, and honestly, it’s been driving me a little crazy.” He takes a deep breath. “No, it’s been driving me a lot crazy. So much so that I’ve been harassing your poor friend Megan, trying to get her to tell me where you were. She finally did. But she held out for quite some time.”

              I smile. “Megan’s a big girl; I’m sure she can handle it. Though I know she feels partially responsible. As she should, for setting me up on that stupid online dating site in the first place.”

              “It seems like all that happened a really long time ago. That I was standing there at the door, listening to the two of you argue about whether you should knock or not—”

              “Wait—you heard that?”

              “I did. And that was my first clue that you weren’t just going to be some random hookup, that there was something different about you. I don’t know; it was just a feeling.”

              It does seem like such a long time ago, even though it really wasn’t—going to the hotel, seeing him for the first time, having all those drinks at the bar. The sex we had back in his room . . .

The wind blows a gust of cold air across my face and I shiver. He takes a few steps closer, closing the distance between us. His face is serious, but there’s a gentleness in his eyes, a tenderness that makes my heart swell. “Emma,” he says. “I love you. I love you. You are the person I want to be with. I don’t care about labels, I don’t care what anyone else is going to think or say about it. I know how I feel.”

              And that’s it. That’s all I need to hear from him, and I know he means every word of it. I fling my arms around him, and he drops the flowers and his arms are around me, and he’s carrying me inside, whispering in my ear that it’s too cold to be out here when I’m dressed the way I am.

              He carries me upstairs.

              “Home sweet home,” I say.

              But I don’t think he even sees any of it—he brings me over to the bed and then sets me down, pulling his overcoat off, then the sweater underneath. He strips down and then gets onto the bed with me. We lie there next to each other for a few moments, our limbs entwined, our faces so close that the tips of our noses are touching.

              And then we begin to kiss. Slowly at first, our lips just brushing, then with more urgency, mouths opening, tongues making contact, his hands running through my hair, the sides of my face, my throat.

              “Oh, I’ve missed you,” he says, his voice little more than a growl.

              I touch his shoulders, his torso, the smooth, taut skin of his abdomen. There’s an enthusiasm to what we’re doing, but it’s different from before. It’s less frenzied but still passionate. It’s really making love, as opposed to sex or fucking.

              “I’ve missed you, too,” I whisper.

              He moves slowly, gently, and even though it’s not the frenzied passion of some of our previous encounters, it is perfect. Just what I need. I am exactly where I want to be, with exactly who I want to be with.

              It doesn’t matter to me anymore. It never should have. Other people can think whatever they choose, and I won’t waste another second caring. All I care about is Jai. All that matters is the way he looks into my eyes, with such love and tenderness, as our bodies join. The emotion that I see there matches my own, and I can already see the life we’re about to build for ourselves taking shape.

It’s going to be fucking beautiful.

About Scarlett

Scarlett Ward is a yoga-loving, tea-drinking writer who finally took the plunge and wrote her first book. Her debut series, Step F*@k, debuted in 2015. When she’s not breaking laptops by typing too vigorously, she works as a critical care nurse. She’s still looking for her McDreamy… or her Jai Carter.

Growing up, Scarlett always loved to put pen to paper. She had a stepbrother, too, but he wasn’t hot in the slightest. To ease her disappointment, she created Jai, and he’s much better.

Scarlett hates long walks on the beach. That shit is hard. She prefers laying out by the pool with her laptop, writing her next story while working on her tan.