Chapter 19 Cross
CROSS
I can’t stop thinking about that damn fucking kiss.
She took me by surprise. The last thing I expected was for her to rise up on her toes and press her lips to mine. And, yeah, I lost myself for a moment. I allowed myself to treat her like someone I can kiss anytime I want—as someone I want to kiss whenever I want.
Then, naturally, it got fucking awkward. Scarlett was embarrassed at her impulse.
I was just trying to get my dick to stop throbbing.
I was also pissed at myself for indulging in that.
Has there always been some underlying lust toward her? Now that I think about it…yes. But what’s a guy to do? Force himself onto his stepsister that loathed him from the moment she saw him? That’s something her dickbag ex would do. Not me.
No, instead you bully her into doing your homework.
I run my hand over my face.
The crazy thing is that I want to kiss her again, and I don’t want to stop. I picture it, the slide of her lips on mine, and the little whimpers she’d let out, and my dick stiffens. I ball my hands in my sheets, refusing to touch myself.
Fuck, this is stupid.
I’ve been trying to sleep for ages, but all I’ve managed to do is replay that kiss while staring at my ceiling.
That’s it. I’m done. The best way to get rid of a song stuck in your head is to just play it, so that’s what I’m going to do.
I push the blankets off and swing my legs over. The cold floor wakes me up even more. I slip out of my room and across the hall, not even pausing to consider Scarlett’s shut door. If she really wanted me out, she’d lock it. Probably.
We’re about to find out.
It opens on silent hinges, and I step in. Her room is darker than mine–I think she’s hung up blackout shades–but an old-school digital alarm clock on her nightstand gives off a red glow and faintly illuminates her silhouette.
I cross to the side of her bed and let my eyes adjust. Her hair is in two braids, and she’s sleeping on her back. Her lips are slightly parted.
This is a wicked temptation.
I reach out and touch her lower lip.
“Scarlett,” I whisper.
She shifts a little.
“Scarlett.”
Her eyes flutter open, and I withdraw my finger before she notices I was touching her. My heart squeezes and picks up speed when she registers me and doesn’t immediately panic.
“What are you doing?” she asks, her voice groggy.
I pull at the blanket covering her, and she automatically shifts aside.
Not one to waste a perfectly good silent invite, I climb into the bed and get close to her.
I want her to be awake. I need her alert for this moment, because I’d feel like scum if I kissed her when she was sleepwalking or some shit.
“I’m gonna kiss you,” I tell her.
She slow-blinks. When I don’t move, she sucks her lower lip between her teeth.
“Okay?”
She nods.
Anything to get you out of my head, Wallace.
The air seems to thicken when I inch closer. I run my hand up her arm, and goosebumps break out across her skin. Her hand finds my waist, and she grips my shirt—to push me away at a moment’s notice, perhaps.
I press my lips to hers softly. Once, then I withdraw. Her huge eyes fill my vision. Ah, fuck. She leans forward, and suddenly, we’re kissing again. Her fingers graze my ribs, my shirt fully in her grasp. Our mouths naturally part, and my tongue slides along hers.
This is infinitely better than the first.
I taste her, but she fights back. Someone, somewhere, taught her how to kiss. The thought makes me irrationally angry, and my teeth score her bottom lip.
She moans.
My dick wakes up. Her palms are flat against my bare chest, but all it does is send lightning bolts through me. I shift, rising up onto my elbows. I hover over her, pushing her flat on her back.
I tear my lips from hers and drag my mouth down her jaw to her neck. Her scent fills my nose, and I nip and kiss my way down to where I bit her earlier. With any luck, it’ll be recognizable for what it is in the light of day.
She pulls at my waist, but I freeze.
It takes all my fucking willpower not to grind my dick on her leg–or worse, between them.
She’s my stepsister. I’m going to have to look at her across the dining table at family functions for the rest of my life.
She’s never going to disappear, not like the girls I date and then dump when I grow bored of them.
It’s like ice water crashing over my head, and I practically throw myself off her.
I’m on my feet and moving out of the room before my brain can catch up.
My heart hammers. I flick the light on in my room and dig out sweatpants, socks, sneakers.
My sweatshirt is slung over the back of my chair, and I’ve got a hat somewhere.
Scarlett is a temptation I can’t afford.
Both literally and mentally.
She’s standing in the doorway of her room when I reemerge dressed for a run. I spare her a glance, getting an eyeful of her mussed hair and swollen lips.
“Fuck,” I growl.
I pivot and beeline for her. I catch the back of her neck and lean down. This kiss is rough. She bites my lip, and the metallic taste of blood blooms across my tongue. I like it. I want more of it. I want her teeth on me–and that’s precisely the problem.
Tonight’s memories will have to be enough.
I pull away, taking in her half-lidded eyes and rather pleased expression, and I sear that into my memory too.
Because I have a feeling from here on out, it’ll be only scowls.