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I grimaced. "I definitely wouldn't take it if it did. And Leo wouldn't cheat on my mother."
"Who said he'd be the one to receive the blowjob?" Mannix gave me a look like he'd happily drag my face down to his lap and make me suck him off while he drove.
"Does your family often give gifts with conditions attached?" I asked.
"Frequently." The light turned green and he turned his attention back to the road. "No one in the world gives gifts without strings attached. There's no such thing as a free blowjob."
"You should get that on a T-shirt," I said dryly. "Maybe sell them at the local market. You might make a few dollars. I'm sure Ares and Ice would come and help you out." Ares and Mannix would scare all the customers away, but Ice might sell a few. If nothing else, it was an interesting mental image.
"I'll save one for you," Mannix said. "A white one that's tight around your tits. No bra. You could make a few dollars giving paid blowjobs. I'd be first in line."
I believed him. He hated my guts, but he'd enjoy seeing me on my knees, my lips around his cock. His eyes on mine as I sucked his thick length. His hips moving slowly back and forth, grunts of pleasure slipping from his mouth.
I shook my head to get the thought out of it. I should one hundred percent not be thinking about him like this. He might not appreciate it if I left a puddle on his seat, even if it was because I was thinking inappropriate thoughts about my stepbrother-to-be.
"I know I need money for a car, but I'm not that desperate." I adjusted my position on the seat.
"Yet," he said.
"I have no plans to be that desperate ever," I retorted. I wouldn't knock anyone who was employed in the sex industry, but it wasn't a career I aspired to have.
"Shame, I hear it pays well."
"If you're so worried about Leo giving away your inheritance, maybe you should look into it for yourself. I'm sure you'd be popular." Lonely, rich housewives would probably pay a ton to fuck him. Men too.
"No one would be able to afford me." He looked smug.
I snorted. At least we were getting along with each other now, more or less. This was the first halfway decent conversation we had since we met. This might be as good as we got with each other.
He pulled up in front of the gymnastic studio and killed the engine.
"I'll be back in an hour. That should be long enough for you to do your shit." He was telling, not asking. If I wasn't ready to go when he got back, I'd have to find my own way back home. He wouldn't regret leaving me behind for a moment.
"An hour should be plenty," I said lightly. "Thank you again for—"
"Are you going to get out sometime today?" His inpatient tone matched the dark look in his eyes. Evidently he'd exhausted his quota of pleasantry, and was done with me.
Our tentative peace was at an end.
"Yeah." I pushed the door open and climbed out. I'd barely shut the door behind me when he pulled away from the curb and roared off down the street. I was lucky he didn't run over my feet. That was probably his plan.
Not today, motherfucker.
Why did he have to be so fucking hot and an asshole at the same time? Had something terrible happened to make him so cynical? Maybe he witnessed a murder too. Seeing that, living with the memory, would mess with anyone's mind. It was certainly messing with mine. I considered therapy, but dismissed the idea. I couldn't talk about it without risking giving away details. As much as I'd like to trust a therapist to keep things confidential, I'd be naïve to think the chance of details getting out was zero.
"I'll see you soon, little mouse. Or maybe it will be later. Now I think about it, later would be better. Your fear will taste sweeter then. Like honey and wine. Like the smoothest chocolate melted down until it's liquid. Like cum. Perfect for drinking."
The words were seared into my mind like a brand. I played it over and over again until the idea of melted chocolate made my stomach turn. In my dreams, he took a few steps forward, found me, and tore me open like their victim. Sometimes I dreamt they drank my blood. Sometimes I was still alive when they did it.
If he found me, iftheyfound me, I was screwed. Worse than screwed, I'd be dead.
I pushed down the flutter of fear that rose in my chest and stepped through the door and into the gym.
Chapter Six
Kennedy
This was my happy place. Right at the top of the thick line of bright blue silk.
