Page 3

Her shoulder pops up to nail me in the jaw, and I rear back. Now that shit was super rude.

“What the hell?”

She spins around to face me, proving it really is hell. Although she’s not the girl from the train station, I did see her for the first time last night. On the painting over the fireplace.

The girl I just wore like a hand puppet…is my new stepsister.

“Khaos?” Kota screeches before shoving her hands in her hairline. That’s sweaty. Because of me, her new stepbrother. Who she…knows?

How does she know me? I don’t think my dad’s taken a picture of me since I was in elementary school.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I ask her instead, because last I checked she was supposed to be shaking her ass in another state.

What kind of dancer is she again?

“Me? I live here! What are you doing here?”

“Same. I live here, too.”

“Since when?”

I shrug. “Last night. I thought you were in Florida.”

“Obviously, I’m not!”

No shit.

“When did you get in? My dad said—”

“Your dad said you could go around fingering people without their permission?”

Oh, hell no. She’s gonna pull that card on me?

“I took your pussy leaking all over me as permission.” I gesture at the wet spot on my crotch.

“That’s not your cum?”

Yes. “Fuck no. It’s all yours.”

“Oh my God. Oh my God.” She starts pacing.

Hindsight, maybe I could’ve checked to see who exactly I was inside of.

Although, I feel like that responsibility falls on her shoulders, too. Like, who the fuck did she think I was?

“What about you? You just let anyone put their hands all over you?” I accuse.

Suddenly, Kota stops to regard me, her blue eyes wide, her cheeks inflamed.

Damn, she really is beautiful.

“Well, I’m ovulating.”

Ovulating? Isn’t that the only time you don’t want to fuck a chick? Because…child support.

“I don’t see the correlation.”

“It’s just…I’m…you know…” She nods like I’m supposed to know.