6
ELLIE
I’ve been dreading working on the presentation with Colby for many reasons. I tell myself it’s because he’s an arrogant ass and a suck-up to my mom, but those are the easy excuses to cover a more complicated truth.
The reality is that being forced to sit near a man who whispered in my ear as I came at the hands of another man has me hot and flustered. Truly, I don’t want to have these feelings. I want to hold the anger and resentment against my stepbrothers close to my heart. I want to hate them, but hate and lust are strange bedfellows. How can I fantasize about them and want to avoid them simultaneously?
I know how.
It’s like I’ve separated the closet men from the real men in my head. And that’s easier to do when I don’t see them. But we can’t work together without sitting in the same room, and sitting in the same room will mean proximity, and proximity will mean remembering what that sweet release felt like and applying it to the real person. Or one of them.
Would it be harder to sit next to Micky now that he knows how I taste between my thighs? Or would it be more difficult to sit with Seb, whose tongue flicked against my shamelessly tight nipples?
I don’t think so. Each of them played a role. Each of them is as guilty as the others.
They are as guilty as me.
A knock on my door is so loud and sudden that I practically jump out of my skin. Like the day after I stumbled into that closet, unaware of who was going to take me to heaven, when I open the door, I find Colby looming on the other side. “Are you ready to study?” he asks in a voice that sounds gruff and unused. A sexy, husky voice that trails hotly over my skin, searching out my most sensitive place.
“Sure,” I say, even though the reality is NO NO NO!
No, I can’t sit next to you.
No, I won’t be able to process the boring topic we have to discuss with you sitting next to me.
No, I can’t pretend that you don’t affect me.
My whole body feels like it’s vibrating, disturbing the air around us in rippling sex-waves that I’m convinced Colby can sense. He looks at me strangely, with a question in his eyes that never makes it to his lips.
I return to my room, needing to get away from his intensity and gather my thoughts. What should I take with me? Laptop, pens, paper, some frickin’ common sense. Most of all, I have to banish these sex thoughts to have hope in hell of concentrating.
“Give me a minute,” I call over my shoulder without turning to check he’s heard me. The heavy retreating tread of his feet tells me all I need to know. Like a marathon runner at the end of a grueling race, I place my hands on the fronts of my thighs and bend at the waist. “Get it together,” I whisper. “Pull your panties up and get on with it.”
With a deep breath and a renewed purpose, I grab my things and make the brief journey across the hall to Colby’s room.
The door is ajar, so I cross the threshold without knocking. He’s already hunched over his desk, computer open, fingers flying over the keyboard. “I’ve started putting something down, so we have a starting point.”
“Okay.” I’m relieved. Hopefully, that will mean sitting next to him for less time.
He’s brought the chair that usually sits in the corner of his room next to his desk, so I can see what he’s typing. I guess Colby’s taking the lead, which doesn’t surprise me. His bossy tone and controlling hands flash into my mind, and my knees go to jelly as I slump into the seat.
“What are your thoughts on these headlines?”
I scan through what he’s written, and it’s precisely the approach I would have taken.
“Looks great.”
His shoulders drop a little, which is funny because I wouldn’t have imagined Colby would care much about whether I agreed with him. I expected him to just take over, assuming he knows best. He’s that kind of man. But the reality of how we work together over the next couple of hours is completely different. Yes, he has strong opinions, but that’s okay. I’m pretty bull-headed too.
The thing is, even if I start out wanting to disagree with him, his arguments are always strong and well-thought-through. I catch him nodding when I’m talking, as though he’s impressed with my way of thinking, too. In record time, we have a presentation that I’m proud of and know Professor Anderson will love, and we’ve achieved it without a disagreement and in record time.
We make a great team. Who could have predicted that?
It’s the first time in forever that we’ve spent time in each other’s company without getting on each other’s nerves, and I don’t know how to process this version of my stepbrother. Is he like this because of what happened? Is he trying to smooth things over so he can get a good grade and get in my pants again, or is he a different person than I thought?
As Colby closes his laptop, I stand, pushing my chair back a little with my legs to make space, but it’s as though Colby has the same thought and stands too. I end up with my face almost pressed to his broad chest, catching the scent of his freshly washed shirt and warm skin in the process. He looks down as I look up, and when our eyes meet, a frisson of electricity seems to pulse between us, flashing bright and blue and noisy as static. My lungs react by sucking in a noisy gulp of breath, and I quickly press my lips together so no other evidence of my arousal can squeak through. His forest-colored eyes are dark with wide pupils that feel intense as they search mine.
Seconds tick past. Seconds that feel as long as summer days.
I swallow, feeling every bodily reflex, the clenching of muscles as I brace for what may happen, the involuntary movement of my throat. I’m so small next to his huge, muscular body, so tiny and insignificant.
He’d have to bend to kiss me , I think, and then I blush because what the fuck? Why am I thinking about kissing when I should be retreating to my room, closing the door, and focusing on anything but how soft his lips look and how even though I’m looking directly at his face, I can sense his hands flexing at his sides, ready to grab me and pull me close?
God, I want that. Grabbing hands and frantic kisses. I want a man who demands things of me without asking and who can tell when I acquiesce I do so willingly.
Colby’s chest rises and falls on a long breath as though he’s trying to keep a fingernail grip on his restraint.
I’m holding my breath, waiting, waiting, either for Colby to do something or for me to see sense. As Colby leans in, I feel like Alice, about to tumble down a rabbit hole into a world I’m wholly unprepared for.
But as unprepared as I am, I still want that kiss.
Then a loud bang on the door jolts us both from our mesmerized state. Micky’s standing at the door, dressed only in a towel, and my cheeks flush hotter than lava.
Shit.
I grab my things, stacking them in my arms.
“You got some antiperspirant?” Micky asks Colby. I can’t look at either of them because two Townsend men in such close confines have the potential to make me melt. As Colby reaches out to hand Micky the black and silver can and I head for the door, footsteps pound in the hallway. Out of nowhere, Seb appears, his hand grabbing for Micky’s towel.
In slow motion, it comes away from his waist. Seb makes off with it down the hall, and Micky is left naked only four feet away from me. Naked and so fucking hot that my mouth fills with saliva.
Oh god.
It takes him a couple of seconds to react with his hand over his cock, but it’s a couple of seconds too late.
I’ve seen the size and perfection of what he has between his legs–what they all have because they’re identically sized in everything else–and the image is burned into my brain. Rippling abs leading down into the v of muscle that I’ve never seen on a man in real life. And thighs that are powerful to make me salivate.
“For fuck’s sake,” Colby mutters, his eyes on me, watching everything. I hesitate, not able to break out of my frozen state. Micky shrugs his shoulders apologetically, even though none of this is his fault, and makes off down the hallway in pursuit of a very juvenile Sebastian. Colby clears his throat, and that’s enough to jolt me towards the door, a raging blush flaming at my cheeks. “I’ll send you what we did,” Colby shouts after me, but I couldn’t care less about the presentation.
All I can think about is Micky’s clever tongue sliding over my pussy, and what it would feel like to be penetrated by a cock that long and thick. All I want to do is clamp my thighs together to relieve the ache. When I’m in my room, I slam the door and lean against it, my knees almost giving way and my heart thudding so hard, it’s like a bass drum inside me. I can’t believe the physical reactions I’ve had to something I want to feel repulsed by but can’t.
Shit.
I’ve got a problem. Actually, it’s more like three huge problems.
Placing my laptop and book on my desk, I go back to the door to press my ear to the cool wood. I don’t even know if it’s possible to hear anything, but I want to know what they’re talking about. The distant manly rumble of voices isn’t intelligible through the door, though. Damn.
Flopping onto my bed, I need a distraction to keep me from pressing my fingers to my lips in memory of a kiss that never happened or to my clit, to relieve the ache that my stepbrothers have left me with.
Instead, I bring up Dornan’s number on my phone and call it, knowing my best friend will take my mind off the Townsends and make me laugh. I need to laugh.
“Hey, Ellie-Elephant,” he says.
“For fuck’s sack, Dornan! Can you chill the fuck out with these shitty nicknames? They are not flattering.”
“Who said nicknames are supposed to be flattering? They have to be cute or annoying. Them’s the rules, babes. I don’t make this shit up.”
“Well, maybe you need to ignore the rules, Dornan. I mean, when did you become such a rule-abiding person anyway?”
“When did you, Ellie-Belly?” I ignore yet another stupid nickname.
“What do you mean? I abide by the rules.”
“Seven minutes in heaven with your stepbrothers isn’t in anyone’s rule book,” he says with an unseen smile on his lips.
“Ugh,” I say. “Really. You want to bring that up now? You know how I feel about them. They’re just annoying suck-ups who I have to live with, and that was a stupid dare gone wrong.”
“They’re not bad guys. Not really,” he says thoughtfully.
“Since when?” I gasp. Although they play on the same team, Dornan has always shared my views of the Townsend triplets. I can’t be sure how much of it was because of what I think and have told him and how much is his own view.
“Since they were defending your honor in the locker room,” he says.
“They were what?”
“Defending your honor. What happened at the party got out, sweet pea. A few of the team were talking about it. Colby, Sebastian, and Micky were quick to shut it down. They didn’t want anyone saying anything bad about you.”
“Are you serious?” I ask, not believing it could be true. Why the hell would they be bothered if people were gossiping about me? If anything, I would have imagined them having a field-day talking about what we did. Isn’t that what men do? They brag about their conquests. And what could be better to brag about but fucking around with the stepsister you don’t even like that much? I mean, why would they care about defending my honor? We’re not related. What I do sexually with anyone doesn’t affect the family or them at all.
“Yeah, I’m serious. They tore Elias a new one, and he wasn’t even saying anything particularly bad. He was just asking them to confirm that they messed around with you in the closet.”
“That was it?”
“Yeah. I stepped forward because no one talks shit about my best friend, but I didn’t need to. They were already on it.”
I let out a soft breath. I’m not often surprised, especially when it comes to my stepbrothers, but if what Dornan says is true, they’ve done the exact opposite of what I expected in the circumstances.
“So people are talking about me?” I ask.
“Don’t worry about it,” Dornan says. “Believe me, it’s nothing. No one knows what you did in the closet, not even me. You could have all stood around trying not to touch each other. Your stepbrothers didn’t confirm shit.”
“Okay,” I say, feeling relieved.
“But you came out of that closet with very red cheeks,” Dornan says slowly. “And a damp hairline. And a ruffled hem.”
Clearing my throat, I shift in my seat. “Dornan,” I say in a warning tone.
“What? You don’t want to confide in me? Am I not your best friend?”
“You are,” I say. “But…”
“But you don’t want to tell me that your three stepbrothers got you off like a rocket.”
“Dornan!”
“What? Are you forgetting you’re at college? These are the years you’re supposed to have fun and make crazy mistakes.”
“But some mistakes are better left unspoken and unrepeated.”
With a long sigh, I hear Dornan shifting. “You don’t need to be so uptight, sweetie. I’d hate for you to get to your thirties and look back with regrets because you didn’t let your hair down when you had the chance.”
“Are you seriously suggesting I should look to repeat what happened in the closet?”
“Well, I don’t know what happened in the closet, so I’m not sure I can tell you that. I’m saying that all the grumbling you do about your stepbrothers has always felt like a cover for other feelings, and if that’s the case, maybe you should grow up and face what’s in your heart rather than ignore it.”
“I don’t believe you,” I huff.
“Ah, Ellie-Belly, don’t be like that. You know I have your best interests at heart. Which of them are you crushing on?”
The little flutter of my heart in my chest is more ache than excitement. Dornan isn’t to know that all three of my stepbrothers have wormed their way through my frosty, hard outer shell for different reasons.
“Crushing is so high school,” I say to change the subject.
“Human beings don’t ever grow out of crushing.” There’s a smile in his voice that piques my interest.
“Oh yeah. And who are you crushing on?”
“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” he says in a playful tone.
“Forget it.” I shake my head even though he can’t see it. There’s no way I’m going to get dragged into a game like that.
“I d…”
I hang up before he can say the word dare and text him with a laughing emoji and the words, NO MORE DARES! Then I slump back against my chair.
My stepbrothers defended me, and I don’t know how to process that.