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“I don’t want to.” There I go, sounding like a child stamping her foot. But I can’t help it. Believe me when I say I’ve tried it all with these three. But nothing gets their attention like my bratty and infuriating rage.
“This isn’t a choice.” His words escape him despite the fact his jaw seems to stay wired shut, the strain of controlled anger keeping his neck in tight lines.
“I like where I work now.” Lies, because who the fuck likes working at a pizza place aside from stoners and old Italian men?
Max snorts, feeding his large hands through his shining dark hair. Glenn’s is fading but still, the three of them have the same, bouncing, plentiful waves of luscious soft dark locks. The length is long enough to be wild and sexy when disheveled but not so long as to make any of them look unruly.
“A pizza joint is mentally titillating, huh?”
My eyes pin him down, and everything inside of me screamslook at me when you talk shit to me, coward!And like he’s connected to my thoughts–Max always seems to know what I’m thinking–he meets my fuming stare.
“Naa, but a lot of hot guys come in, and it gives me a perfect place to get paid to practice my blowjob skills.” My cheeks burn with my bratty comment. I’ve never blown a guy atPizza Castleand I never fucking would. Still, I can’t help the satisfaction soaring through me at the visible displeasure I get fromall three of them.
“Fucking hell, Cherry. Watch your mouth.”
“That’s what they say, too,” I smile broadly at my stepdad, who is also finally looking at me. They never want to look at me. It used to be maddening. At one point when I was eight, I seriously thought I may be invisible, except that Mari was there–and they saw her so I must be real.
“You can ride with Max and Connie, or me.”
My eyes go to my step-brothers, and I watch the solid knot in Conrad’s throat jostle up and down as he drinks the last of his beer.
He makes the can look tiny with hands that size.
“I’m not going,” I say, not giving up that easily. I know I’ll have to do it because even though I’m freshly an adult and have a job, I can’t support myself. Not even close. Hell, the money I make atPizza Castlebasically pays for my gas and car insurance. Food, rent, and other bills are so fucking out of the question right now.
Unexpectedly, Glenn crosses the room to close the distance between us. My eyes jump to Max and Conrad, who are both watching their father, which makes my pulse rocket.
Glenn wraps his hand around my throat with a terrifying slowness, taking his time to establish that he doesn’t have to seize his control quickly—he can move slow andstillown me.
Gasping, I suck in a defiant breath as his fingertips push down on my throat, my pulse hammering.
“You’ll ride with me then.” His dark eyes dance between mine, silently daring me to take a stance against him, to raise a question, to claim an offense.
But I lift my hand and wrap it around his, then whisper, “you’ll have to fucking make me.” Before he can process, I fling his hand off my throat, turn around and storm back up to my room.
I’ve stormed off many times. In my pre-teen years, it was an almost daily habit. No one has ever followed me after the storm-off.
Until today.
No one knocks. Max and Conrad welcome themselves by taking a spot on either side of me on the bed, where I’d just resigned myself to. Max drops a hand to my thigh, and a tingle worms its way up my leg. Conrad matches the movement, and when he fans his fingers over my bare skin, I pull my legs together. On me, the backs of their knuckles graze each other’s, and I watch as their eyes meet, holding a brief and silent conversation.
“What do you guys want?” I ask, finding my voice a lot harder to reach with their smooth, vast palms sending waves of warm pleasure up my thighs. They wear different colognes, but they’re complementary, and between the touches and scents, I needout. I try to stand.
“Stay put,” Max advises before drifting his knuckles along his brother’s once more.
“You’re eighteen now,” Conrad supplies in his obliging tone.
Here’s the thing about not getting attention from the people who aresupposedto give it to you: you’re fuckingstarvedfor it, in any capacity. Even if it’s fucked up, degrading, toxic, and potentially soul-sucking.
Doesn’t matter.
The youth inside of me is famished and these three men are the only thing to put a dent in my voracious appetite to be seen.
“What are you guys doing?” I ask with all the coolness in the fucking world, which I definitely don’t feel. Max reaches up and tugs a strand of my long hair. Conrad’s hand smooths down then up my thigh. “You guys hate me,” I say because they do, and what am I supposed to say? Keeping my shoulders locked in the position of an unfazed bad bitch, I force my voice to stay strong.
“What the fuck?”
I know my nipples are hard, and I really fucking hate that I want them becausefuck them. But also, the primal part of me as a woman cannot deny the feral physical attraction. The evolutionary piece of me sees strong, handsome, intelligent men and screams, “fuck them! Fuck them!” It’s natural, after all.
