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“Oh, it’s not,” Mom mediated, smiling softly.
“Oh, but it is. Trust me.”
The way he transfixed his gaze at me, as pervasive and authoritative as Ares, made it hard not to accept his warning. And, however far less dominant it was than his son, it left me with no other choice than to dutifully trust him.
4
ARES
Rio handed over an ice-cold beer. Exactly what I needed.
“Not a fan of hers, huh?” my brother remarked.
I gave the room full of people another quick scan and turned my gaze back to our new stepsister. “Since when did Cary think it was a good idea to marry someone—again?”
The brunette he was slow dancing with to “Spell I’m under” by Winger seemed to enjoy dancing with our dad. I hated that I loved the song, that I had inherited Cary’s music taste. But what I loathed, was that he had more fun getting to know his new stepdaughter during these past three minutes at his third wedding than he’d had with his sons in twenty-two years. The cliché rockstar had jumped into another marriage in Vegas after the divorce with our mother. An annulment followed three days later, and I’d hoped he’d found some sanity after nine years. But he had to date and marry the mother of that girl with the shy smile and an ass most plastic surgeons dreamed of recreating. Dita Dominguez was gorgeous, and also my enemy.
“How long do you think she’s going to last? Before she’s running, screaming murder?” Rio tipped the neck of his drink to our new family member.
I gritted my teeth because Cary dipped Dita and her full, round tits were pushed up nicely, making the image of her in the tub three days ago flash in front of my eyes. At least now she wasn’t naked.
But fuck, the satin burgundy dress was tight and draped over her hourglass figure like she’d been doused in melted toffee. I could definitely imagine her lying on my bed with only those stilettos. Those heels would make a stripper jealous as it revealed her toned, bronzed legs. The dress’ split made her look edible.
The prude looked awfully sexy.
No doubt I would’ve had those legs wrapped around my neck and my tongue on her clit tonight if she wasn’t my goddamn stepsister. The contract said Rio and I were not allowed to touch her, making us look like sex offenders. But even if we’d signed it, I wanted to steal her from him, drag her to my bed and mark her.
Taint her.
It would ruin them—her mother, my dad.
God, I hated Cary.
And I really hated seeing Dita smile at her new stepdad as if all his band’s ballads were written about her.
“Fuck the contract,” I said, gulping down my beer and wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
Rio chuckled and followed me to the open bar. “What?”
“I said, fuck the contract.”
“Yeah, I got that.” He thumbed his brow thoughtfully and dropped his shoulders. “Sure, why not? Screw the legally binding contract,” he retorted and clasped my elbow, knowing my fuse was shorter than his. “Although I’m not going to let you do that, I do wonder why he’s so protective of her.”
“Exactly. Why did we need to sign those damn papers?” I asked him as I slammed my empty bottle on the bar and called the bartender. “Whiskey, neat.”
He curtly nodded, scurrying to get the rockstar’s son a drink. Tonight, I didn’t mind one bit that my privileged ass got served like we were royalty. I needed to get drunk. Daddy wasn’t even hitched for an entire day and I already knew this marriage would go belly-up soon.
Cary would never change. Women would never change.
It was a vicious cycle.
Even if it included signatures and ridiculous clauses.
Rio made me look away from my father. “The terms said something about no body-to-body contact.”
I huffed, finding it laughable. “Our dad the man whore... Noble shit.”
I wasn’t. I had been contemplating messing around with Dita from the moment she set foot in our house. If Stella and her daughter were close—and by the looks of it, they were—then I’d found something to play with.
