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“Just didn’t think that would be the first thing you’d do to me…if you had me.”
But I’m not complaining. I think I would like that a lot, actually.
“Well, there is plenty more I’d do,” he says, eyeing me. “But I’d really like to see you wrecked. All that perfection just smudged a bit. Watching you come apart, piece by piece….”
He shudders, and I have to look away because sex hasneverwrecked me before. But I have a feeling that if anything ever happened with Emery, it would be different. It already is, and we’ve barely done anything at all.
But I’m not sure I want to be taken apart piece by piece.
What if I can’t be put back together again?
I turn a little and begin unwrapping the emergency blanket. It crinkles in my hand, breaking through the silence that’s hanging heavily between us.
“I ruined it, didn’t I?” Emery says softly. “That was too weird, huh?”
I stop what I’m doing and look over at him. Because the sex part isn’t what bothers me. It’s the feelings I’ll have if we do it.
“It’s fine, Em. We should…the gas is going to be gone soon. I’m just going to….” I gesture to the silver blanket, and he eyeballs it.
“Okay, yeah. Sure. Makes sense. Anything I can do to help?”
I take a deep breath and shake my head.
“I think I’m good.”
Emery is sucking on both hoodie strings now and staring out the window, shivering slightly.
Part of me wants to gather him into me, to keep him safe, but the other part is telling me to stay away.
He’s dangerous.
CHAPTERTHREE
EMERY
Okay, so I messed this upbad. Shouldn’t have said I wanted to blow a load all over his face. But he just seemed like he was so into it. His dick was hard and his face was flushed, and I could see how hot he was for it. For me. And of course, I didn’t think it through like a normal fucking person.
No, I just blurted it out. Told him precisely what I’d do to him without a filter.
And now he’s acting weird.
He’s still being nice, though. Earlier, he got my insulin for me and made sure I ate, but damn, he won’t even look at me.
And to make matters worse, the gas just ran out, and I’m cold.
Fuck, I hate being cold.
“Come here, Em,” he says, and that nickname makes my heart flutter in my chest every damn time. Why’s he gotta call me that? Makes me feel a little in love with the guy, and all he did was just shorten my name. Imagine if he did anything else?
I am pathetic with a capital P. Lex told me so. He said, “Emery, you’re fucking pathetic”, but I just figured he was being an asshole. Note to self: he wasn’t. He was being honest.
I am in love with my stepbrother because he kissed me and shortened my name to something swoon-worthy.
Ridiculous.
I’ve actually surpassed pathetic and skidded right smack into plain old sad.
“Come on. Come here. You’re cold.”
