The Other Brother Part 2: Taboo: Stepbrother Billionaire Romance (4 page)

“I… it’s…” I throw my hands out in frustration. Mattie raises his eyebrows. “It’s really fucking complicated.”

“Sweetheart, if that’s your stepbrother out there, looking at you like he wants to fuck you six ways from Sunday, that’s about as complicated as it gets.” Mattie gives me a sly grin. “But complicated sex is better anyway.”

I wince at that rather crass but true observation. Picking up one of the pepper shakers, I hold it upside down and watch the small black snowflakes float down to the counter.

“He tore my family apart. It’s never going to be whole again.” I think of Theo, of how my big brother had acted the night before. “More than that, he tore
me
apart. I almost couldn’t put myself back together. Like Humpty Dumpty.”

“Humpty who? Now you’re just being dirty.” He plucks the shaker from my fingers. “And I hate to have to be Captain Obvious here. And by Captain Obvious, I mean Captain Asshole. But nobody can tear you apart except yourself. They can hurt you. But falling apart, that’s on you. Just like it’s on you to put the pieces back together. And you’re doing just fine with that.”

I stare at Mattie incredulously. “I spent last night getting spanked by my former stepbrother. That’s how
fine
I’m doing with that.”

Mattie shakes his head. “
Former
stepbrother? That’s not nearly as hot.”

Fisting my hands in my hair, I tug with frustration. “Not helping. Not helping at all.”

Mattie rolls his eyes. “Look, sweetcheeks. I said only you can tear yourself apart. But he still hurt you. You’re entitled to be uncertain. You’re allowed to be pissed off. You’re allowed to tell him how you feel. And then have really awesome, angry makeup sex.”

I ignore the last part, frowning as I take in the rest.

I never
have
told him just how he made me feel by doing what he did. We went from the wary but intense, arms-length relationship we had to naked spankings.

Maybe Dr. Gill is right. Maybe I do need to
let go
… but not in the way she meant.

“Thanks, Mattie.” Chin up, I wipe suddenly sweaty palms on my skirt. I’m going to do it. I’m going to go march out into the middle of the The Cheesecake Factory and tell Seth Thorne exactly what he did to me.

“Make him say sorry.” Mattie’s eyes are bright with anticipation. He loves drama. But I’m not doing this with him attached to my leg.

“Oh, I will.” Giving him a look that says quite plainly that I expect him to stay put, I suck in a deep breath and shore up my courage.

After leaving my name tag and server’s apron in the employees’ lounge, I march into the bar to find Seth, buoyed by my Mattie-fueled wave of self-righteousness. It carries me right around the corner, until I see him.

He’s seated at a table, drinking a beer. No fancy wine or scotch for Mr. Billionaire, which softens me a bit. I approach slowly, and he must know I’m coming, because before I reach his table, he looks up at me.

His eyes are both familiar and strange. They’re still that ghostly pale gray, but where once they were guarded and hard, now they’re softer, the cockiness of this morning gone.

They’re so empty that I can see a reflection of my own pain. Of myself. And upon seeing it, all my bravado leaks out of me.

I don’t want to yell and scream at him. I don’t want to put him in his place. Instead, I want to do what I’ve never had a chance to do.

I want to wrap myself in his arms and never let go.

SETH

I
can’t read the expression on Allegra’s beautiful face. She doesn’t look happy. But she doesn’t look as if she’s about to have the other server throw me out on my ass. So I think that’s some progress. It’s a start, anyway.

“Ready?” I incline my head a fraction, as if I don’t much care whether she comes or not. But I do. I really, really do.

She shrugs, but since she’s not yelling at me, I’m pretty sure she’s playing the same game that I am—keep it cool. Don’t let them in, don’t let them see. Don’t let it show. Any minute now I’m going to break into that song from
Frozen
.

Hey, no one’s too rich for Disney.

I catch the other server watching intently as I lead Allegra out the door. He gives me a little finger wave, points at his eyes and then at me.

I purse my lips in amusement. I never get challenged back in New York. Here, it’s every damn time I turn around.

“I thought your dream car was a ’69 Mustang?” Allegra eyes the car as I open the passenger-side door for her.

“It is.” I wait until she slides in before rounding the vehicle. Climbing in myself, I buckle up and wait for her to do the same. “I have two back home. One black and one red.”

“Of course you do.” She sniffs. “Is that supposed to impress me?”

“Does it?” She hasn’t commented on the lack of rental plates on this one. That’s good, because if I told her that I bought it just to drive while I’m here, and that I haven’t yet decided if I’ll sell it or have it shipped back to New York…

Somehow I think her reaction would be the opposite of most women’s.

“It most certainly does not.” Her voice is full of attitude and it makes me smile. I don’t want her to see it, to let her know how much her feistiness does it for me. She didn’t reveal a lot of that when she was younger. Once in a while she’d let me have it, like that time she broke into my place with a screwdriver.

I’d enjoyed it then. I freaking love it now.

The tension in the car as I drive is palpable. Allegra doesn’t look at me, instead focusing those emerald eyes out the side window. But I see her fingers twisting in her lap, playing with the strap of her purse. She’s nervous. That I can tell.

What I don’t know is if she’s afraid of what I’m going to do to her… or of what she
wants
me to do to her. Being who I am, I’m not going to tell her yet that that’s entirely her choice. Of course it’s her choice. I don’t need to force myself on a woman. But more than that, I’m not going to beg.

I want her to come to me. I want her to ask me for it.

I want her to beg.

Steering the car onto the turnoff to the bay, I continue until the hotel comes into view. Allegra’s intake of breath is soft, and I wonder if it’s anticipation or more apprehension.

The hotel looks like a medieval castle, and from the corner of my eye I see Allegra looking up at the turrets with wide eyes, though she feigns nonchalance when Hector, the valet, opens her door and offers her a hand.

“Gee, staying here must be really hard for you.” Allegra arches an eyebrow at me as I climb out of the low-slung vehicle and toss Hector the keys. Rounding the car to catch Allegra’s elbow, I discreetly press a hundred dollar bill into the man’s hand.

“Have a good night, Mr. Thorne.” Hector’s good. He waits to look at the money until Allegra and I are walking away.

“Mr. Thorne?” Allegra smirks as we enter the sleek stone lobby. “You don’t make him call you Sir? Or maybe Master?”

“I wouldn’t unless he was tied to my bedposts.” I swallow my laugh as Allegra gapes. I said that on purpose, to get a reaction, but I thoroughly enjoy watching her at a loss for words.

“Do you… I mean…” She ponders it as I guide her onto the elevator. “Never mind.”

I want to laugh, I really do, but she’d use it as an excuse to call me some vile name and leave. I’m actually surprised she hasn’t left already.
Progress
.

It’s a quick ride to the third floor. She stands as far from me as she can get in the elevator, as though she thinks I’m going to go all Christian Grey on her Anastasia Steele.

I can’t lie… I’m tempted. It’s that damn perfume, that same damn scent she wore six years ago.
Pink Sugar
. It’s sweet, just like her temperament
used
to be.

Her attitude may not remind me of sugar anymore, but I can’t help but wonder if she’d taste like she smells.

Sliding my key card from my pocket, I’m about to scan it in the lock when Allegra slaps her hand on the door. I’m a bit startled, but eye her impassively.

“Let’s get something straight before I enter your deep dark dungeon.” She pins me with a glittering stare. “I’m not going to sleep with you. All forms of touching are off the table. Got it?”

I can’t help but take it as a challenge. I might need her to make the first move, but there’s nothing saying I can’t tempt her into it. “Got it.”

She eyes me warily, probably wondering why I agreed so easily. I just smile and open the door.

Frowning a bit, she walks in ahead of me and looks around. The suite is big, and sleek, and clean, but not opulent. I like the simplicity, which reminds me of my penthouse back home.

Being as wealthy as I am has allowed me to travel all over the world. I like staying in hotels for the convenience, but I prefer the simple and discreet. I’ve had people, women mostly, ask me why I wouldn’t stay in the most expensive places I could find, just because I can.

I don’t see the point. This is how I’m comfortable. I don’t give a damn if other people don’t understand.

“Do you want a drink?” I cross to the bar, slide behind it, and pick up two heavy crystal glasses. I hold them up, shaking them slightly to get Allegra’s attention.

“No. Thank you.” Her eyes widen as if I’ve asked her to perform a snake dance for me. There’s a thread of panic in them. “Nothing for me.”

That was a slight overreaction to a simple question. Maybe she doesn’t drink. Maybe she just doesn’t want to drink around me.

I want to know, and I’m irritated that we’re not at a stage where I can just ask.

“Water, then.” I pour myself a scotch on the rocks, and open a bottle of water for her, pouring the liquid over ice. I carry the glasses over to the couch where she’s perched and hand her the one with water. After taking a sip of my scotch, I sit on the sofa opposite her.

We sit like that for several minutes, in silence, taking sips of our drinks, staring at each other over the rims of the glasses.

She licks her lips, and I drop my gaze, swallowing a groan. It’s going to do me no good to be watching her mouth all the damn time. I won’t be able to say what I need to say to make it right between us.

My hunger for her must be evident on my face, though, because she frowns. Leaning forward, she plants her elbows on her knees, and sets the glass on the table.

“Let’s get on with it. Explain yourself to me, so I can move on with my life and forget that you ever came back into it.”

Wow. That was… harsh.

I drain the rest of the scotch in one gulp, and set the glass down. “Well, you’re not hard to please, are you?”

I can see it on her face the second the words leave my mouth.
Sarcasm. Bad choice, Thorne.

“This was a mistake.” Allegra jumps to her feet and heads toward the door. I want this to be her choice, but if she leaves right now, I…

I just don’t know.

“Allie.” I have to stop her. Standing, I catch her wrist in my hand without thinking. I don’t mean to, but I need to touch her, even if it’s only for a moment longer.

She stops, looking down at where my fingers are curled around her wrist. She doesn’t push me away, but she doesn’t say anything, either.

She needs more. I’d wanted her to beg, but it looks like I’m going to be the one on my knees.

“Don’t go.” She looks at me with those wide, inscrutable eyes. I continue. “Allegra. Please.”

Her gaze again flicks down to where my hand is wrapped around her wrist. Her face changes, her eyes darken, and then it’s gone as if I never saw it to begin with.

Reluctantly, I relinquish my hold on her and take a step away. It almost kills me, because I desperately want to fold her into my arms and kiss her hard on the mouth.

I never kiss the women I’m with on the mouth.

“Fine.” Allegra looks me in the eye, then licks her lips again. Slowly pulling away, she returns to the sofa and lowers herself down onto it.

“Explain.”

ALLEGRA

I
tamp down the urge to trail my fingers over my wrist where Seth touched me. My skin still tingles. The image of his hand around my wrist, coiled tightly like a rope, is burned into my brain forever.

All of the anger that I’ve harbored over the years has welled up inside of me, a tsunami about to devour us both. And yet when he looks at me the way he does, with those icy gray eyes…

I still want him. Just being here, with him, has the need thickening, coiling tightly in my belly.

If Dad knew how I really felt about Seth, he’d… I don’t know what he’d. But imagining the look on his face makes me kinda sick to my stomach.

Seth doesn’t sit back down on the sofa like I expect him to, instead pacing the room like a caged animal. His movements remind me of the big male lion at the zoo, sleek and dangerous, pacing back and forth, ready to pounce.

He rubs at the sexy scruff on his chin, and my mouth goes dry. He could always make a five o’clock shadow look dangerous and appealing.

“I need to apologize for what happened last night.” His voice drops on the last two words, and I know he’s remembering, like I am, just what last night entailed.

My brain is still telling me that this is a really, really bad idea. My traitorous hormones do not agree, and just the mere mention of last night has me wanting to cross my legs against the sudden ache.

I don’t. I don’t want him to know he’s getting to me. Don’t want him to know that I will never be able to get that moment out of my mind—the way it felt, voluntarily giving up my control.

“If I had known it was you, I would never have…have done those things.” I can hear my voice shake. And this is true. Too much had passed between us to take that step.

But fate took it for us. And now it’s all I want. And clearly he wants it too, because I can see his jaw clenching as he paces.

“Why were you there?” Finally I blurt out the question that’s been plaguing me. I mean, I guess I understand why he was there…ahem. But why had he needed to seek that out in Galveston? Why a woman in a mask?

Did he need it that much?