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He nods. “Yeah. Jacob and Joseph. They’re twelve now.” He scratches the side of his head, moving his gaze to the house. “Dad got himself straight, I guess. Mom visited with them a few times and he wanted to jump back into fatherhood.”
“Did you spend time with him?”
He shakes his head. “No. He gave up his fatherly duties with me when I was thirteen years old and he took off. The years before that he was more interested in Jack Daniels and cheating on my mom than being a father, so, yeah, I’m polite because my little brothers don’t remember all that.”
“That’s too bad. My mom left with another guy too, when I was seven. I still talk to her on the phone sometimes, but she likes her new life. No responsibility. And palm trees and mai tais.”
“You missed out on having a mom, though.” He sets his jaw on an angry shake of his head. “I’d like to have a chat with her.”
I blink, chewing on the inside of my lip. “Why?”
“Because I can tell…” He turns my way, slipping his hand to the base of my skull on a little squeeze. Just that touch somehow flips the switch down in my center, making me shiver even as the heat covers my skin. “She hurt you. Anyone that hurts you has to deal with me. No matter how long ago. It’s my job to make sure they know if they even look at you cross-eyed again, I’ll be coming for them. I don’t care if it’s your mom. I’ll rain down the kind of payback they’ll never forget. If they live that long.”
“Are you a psychopath?” I blurt out.
My heart beats faster with a niggle of fear, my body tenses. But the thought that my new stepbrother could be more than unbalanced does nothing to calm the tingling of my bad boy loving nipples.
It doesn’t help that his eye has a burst blood vessel that’s turning the entire left side a deep red around his already nearly black iris. It’s framed by a camouflage of blue and green bruise which gives him more of that sexy serial killer vibe.
He licks his lips again and I can’t stop thinking about his tongue. Not only how it felt when it invaded my mouth earlier, but also wondering if all the hype and hoopla about having a mouth on your feminine places is all it’s cracked up to be.
“I believe that the term psychopath is rather ableist, don’t you?” He grins, his fingers running up and down the back of my neck before looping around under my jaw as he holds me there, his arm locked tight, an iron grip on my windpipe. My body responds by melting into the seat and drenching my underwear. “Or, maybe it’s more of a spectrum, yes? Like, you’re not either a psychopath or not a psychopath, but more like how much of a psychopath are you? I think that’s the more appropriate question.”
Jesus.
His hold on my throat prevents me from swallowing the saliva gathering in my mouth as I wonder if I’m about to have an orgasm or pass out from fear.
“Ha!” He releases my throat, leaning over to kiss my forehead with such sticky sweetness, I’ve changed my assessment from psychopath to borderline personality disorder. “Kidding, sis. Come on, your brother’s just messing with you. I like to see you squirm a little. You’re so damn cute. I can’t help myself.”
Nope. Psychopath. Definitely.
“You’re a lot of work, you know that? I mean, I don’t work out, but when I’m around you, I feel like I’ve done two hours of Zumba.”
“What the fuck is Zumba? Is that some exotic sex thing you want to teach me?” His hands move to cup my cheeks, warm and rough, as he inches himself across the center of the seat, his knee touching the outside of my thigh. The hint of some masculine shampoo and the freshness of his shower only makes me more unsteady. “I can’t breathe thinking you’ve done Zumba with anyone else. I want to hurt him, what’s his name?”
“No,” I say, mesmerized by the murderous rage in his eyes and the knee weakening curve of his lips. “Zumba’s not…never mind. I’ve never even had sex.”
Whyyyy did I just tell him that?
“Holy shit,” he rumbles and there’s a shift in the energy and a wave of blast furnace heat radiating from him. “I just heard you say you’ve never had sex. That wasn’t a dream or a hallucination, right?”
“No.” I screw up my face. “Don’t try to make fun of me, because I don’t care about that. I’ve never been interested, and I never thought it was smart to put so much emphasis on something that doesn’t matter.”
That last part stuns him into silence. His mouth barely opens as his chest rises and falls, his warm breath on my nose with a hint of maybe cinnamon gum.
