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Chapter Six
Blair
Ifinish early tonight and decide to head home and get ready to go out. I’m meeting Faye at a house party later after convincing her to get drunk as hell as I dance my ass off, wanting to forget today’s events. I speed home, and when I pull up, I see the cars and Harley are back. I guess my stepbrothers are here.
Oh well.
I leave my car around the side, since my mother calls it unsightly. I almost snort. I guess it ruins her luxury vibe she has going. I wonder what she would think if she saw the skulled up Harley currently parked in the open garage. I head through the silent house, Meredith and Money Bags must be out again, probably to another gala or on a shopping trip—hell, he took her to Paris the other week. Whatever, so long as it keeps them away from me.
Now I only have the sons to put up with, and I have yet to meet them. Let’s hope they are okay. We’ll only need to interact when I see them in the kitchen upstairs, but nobody wants to live with a total tosser.
As I head through the dark house, I hear music coming from the basement. It’s probably them, but I head upstairs to shower and dress. If I don’t see them before then, I’ll go find them after I’m ready to introduce myself. See? I can be nice when I need to.
The living room upstairs is the same as always—bar, a leather coat thrown over the back of one of the sofas, and some empty beer cans. I grab one from the fridge, pop the top, and drain some as I saunter to my room, wiping my mouth on the back of my hand as I go. I don’t bother turning on the lights, I’ve learned the path to my room by heart over the last few months.
But a noise stops me, and then I see the door to the right is open—the artsy one’s room. It’s slightly ajar and there is a light on inside. I shuffle in place, watching as a shadow passes in front of it. Curiosity gets the better of me and I move closer. The condensation of the cold beer in my hand drips across my fist as I peek through the opening, trying to catch a glimpse.
Tits on a dick.
My eyes widen and I lick my lips as I view the show going on before me. And they say I’m a tease and a flirt… This guy puts me to shame. I should feel dirty for watching him, but I don’t. Especially when he pushes his trousers down, his arms and back flexing. His back is built, and when I say built, I mean he must work out every single day. He has those two adorable dimples at the base of his tanned spine. His shoulders and arms are what catch my gaze though. They are impressive, all tanned, supple skin stretched over hard muscles.
The veins pop on his arms as he yanks up a new pair of jeans, struggling to get them over his tight, peachy ass and thick thighs. Eventually he gets them into place, the tight black skinny jeans ripped and acid washed. He’s partially turned toward the mirror, and it’s dark, so I can’t get a good look at his face, but my eyes catch on his body, on his unbuttoned jeans and the patch of hair and V leading down to the gaping fabric. Licking my lips, I lean closer, spying the eight pack he’s sporting, the indents visible as he twists and moves, getting dressed. He has tattoos randomly scrawled across his body, but I can’t get a good look at them in the dim light of his room. His hair is blond, almost white, and cut extremely short, like a buzz cut. I see a cross earring hanging from one ear and a few scars marring the perfect bronze of his skin.
He looks like a thirst trap off Instagram. You know, those men who are way too good-looking to be real? His arms bulge as he pulls on a loose grey shirt with holes in it, allowing the bar through his nipple and some of his tattoos to peek through. He stills like he can feel my gaze, so I step back into the dark, not wanting to meet my new stepbrother while I’m ogling him.
He turns his head to look out of the door, but he doesn’t seem to see me. Most of his face is in shadow, but I catch thick lips and high cheekbones before he turns away. Holy fuck, my stepbrother is hot. And not in awowkind of way, but in amy panties just caught on fire and my vagina drooledkind of way.
Shit. I down more beer and turn away. At least I’ll have something pretty to look at while we live here… until Mother inevitably pisses off the husband and gets us kicked out. I can look, but I can’t touch. That would be weird... wouldn’t it?
Fuck, yeah, I need to get laid tonight. Preferably by someone with abs like that so I can lick, scratch, and ride. I shut my bedroom door behind me, and about a minute later, I hear footsteps heading away. He’s leaving, so I guess I won’t meet him after all.
If one of them looks like a runway model, what do the others look like?
Why does the thought of meeting them fill me with excitement and lust? It’s almost like knowing they are forbidden is making me have all these dirty thoughts. I’m not a girl you say ‘don’t do it’ to. It makes me want to do something all that much more—dohimso much more. But even I know you don’t mix pleasure with business or, more accurately, don’t fuck where you eat. They might be hot, but this house is filled with too many lies and twisted relationships for me to get involved with. I can, however, appreciate the beauty while I’m here.
That decided, I down the beer and strip to take a shower. I’m not meeting Faye until much later, so I have plenty of time to get ready and chill.
I shave, wash my hair, and use a face mask before drying off.
After showering, I put on a simple pair of panties and an old, ripped band shirt as I let my hair dry naturally. I pump out rock through my speakers and decide to unpack some more clothes, dancing around my room as I go. I’ve got about two hours before I’m due to meet Faye, so there’s no need to rush. I have my outfit out and ready on the bed, and my makeup is done.
Pulling out my cigs, I light one and take a drag before flicking my lighter shut and setting it down. Dancing again, I head over to the speaker and turn it up. The boom of the drums makes me grin, and the shredding guitar matches my racing heart.
I dance like nobody’s watching.
Leaving everything else behind.
I twirl and grind as the beat controls me.
That’s when I feel it...
Eyes.
It’s my turn to be watched.
