4. Chloe #2
There's no 'thing' planned, but I get the message. "Oh, right. Sorry, Jenna."
"No worries! We should all hang out sometime."
"Definitely," I lie.
Cade stands, helping me up with a firm grip on my waist that guides me toward the door. "Nice meeting you, Jenna."
"You too! Bye, guys!"
The door closes behind us, and Cade walks me to the parking lot, his grip firm enough to leave no room for escape. He stops at an expensive black truck and opens the passenger door.
"Get in."
"Cade, I can drive myself?—"
"Get. In."
No room for argument in those words. I climb in and he closes the door, walks around to the driver's side. He doesn't start the engine, just turns to face me.
"Want to explain why some guy had his arm around you?"
"He didn't! It was just on the back of the chair?—"
"Don't lie to me, Chloe." His jaw clenches. "I saw him, saw the way he looked at you. Asking if you were single, flirting."
"I didn't encourage him! I told him it was complicated!"
"Should've told him you had a boyfriend."
"You're not my boyfriend! You're my stepbrother!"
The silence that follows crackles with tension.
Cade moves fast, unbuckling my seatbelt and grabbing me. He pulls me across the center console until I'm straddling his lap, trapped.
"Let me make something clear, Chloe." His hands grip my hips bruisingly hard. "You. Are. Mine. I don't care what labels we use. Boyfriend, stepbrother, owner—doesn't matter. What matters is that no other man touches you. No other man even thinks about touching you."
"I wasn't going to let him touch me!"
"Doesn't matter. He wanted to. That's enough."
"That's not fair?—"
"Life isn't fair, Chloe. But you're mine, and that's final."
His jaw clenches, gray eyes stormy. "Do you have any idea what it did to me? Seeing him near you, looking at you like that? Wanted to rip his fucking head off."
"You're mine. My stepsister. My possession. No one else gets to look at you the way I do. No one else gets to touch you, kiss you, fuck you. Only me. Understand?"
My breathing comes heavy, arousal flooding through me despite—or because of—his anger.
"I understand."
"Do you? Because if I ever see another man that close again—" He leaves the threat hanging.
"I didn't invite him to sit with us!"
"Doesn't matter. You should have left immediately."
"I couldn't just?—"
"Yes, you could. You text me, I come get you. That's what you do now. I'm in your phone. Use it."
His hand slides up to grip my neck gently, not hurting but controlling. "Tonight, you're getting punished."
"Punished?" The word comes out breathy.
"For letting him near you. For not telling him immediately you were taken."
"I said it was complicated?—"
"Not good enough. You should have said you had a man. Should have said your boyfriend would kill any guy who touched you." The possessive violence in his words makes my pussy clench. "Tonight, I'm going to fuck you so hard you feel it for days. You're going to remember who you belong to."
"I'm going to use your body however I want. You don't get to come until I say so. You're going to beg, and I might not give you what you want. Because you need to learn, stepsister. You're mine, and mine alone."
Arousal floods me, shame mixing with desire at how his anger turns me on.
Unable to resist, he crashes his mouth against mine. The kiss is bruising, dominant, his tongue claiming every inch of my mouth. I moan helplessly, hands fisting in his shirt.
He bites my lower lip hard enough to sting, then pulls back. We're both panting.
"Fuck, I want you right now."
"Here? In the parking lot?"
"Don't tempt me, Chloe."
He forcibly moves me back to the passenger seat. "Buckle up. We're going home."
The drive home is tense. One hand on the wheel, the other on my thigh with possessive grip, fingers digging in. Silence stretches for the first few minutes.
"You followed me," I finally say quietly.
"Of course I did. Needed to make sure you were safe."
"Or make sure I wasn't with another guy?"
"That too." No shame in the admission.
"What if I want to see my friends?"
"See your female friends all you want. Men are off-limits."
"That's not fair?—"
"Fair or not, that's the rule. Deal with it."
I cross my arms, annoyed but secretly thrilled by his obsession.
We pull into the driveway. Both our parents' cars are there. Cade turns to me before we exit.
"Act normal. They can't know anything."
"I know that."
"But tonight, after they're asleep..." He trails off, the promise clear in his eyes.
We head inside together. Mom's in the living room. "Oh, you're both back!"
"Ran into Chloe at the coffee shop, gave her a ride home," Cade says smoothly.
"That's nice of you," Harold comments from his chair. "Family looking out for each other."
If only he knew what 'looking out' actually entailed.
I escape upstairs to my room, needing space to process everything. He followed me. Stalked me like prey. I should be scared, but I'm aroused instead. I love that he's this obsessed, that he claimed me in front of Ethan.
The rest of the evening drags by in torture. Family dinner at seven has me barely eating, too aware of Cade across the table. His eyes promise retribution later.
By eight I'm in my room, too early for sleep but knowing Cade will come later. I shower, making myself ready. He said he'd punish me, use my body however he wants, make me beg. Arousal and nervousness mix in equal measure.
I choose a simple nightgown for easy access. No panties, as he prefers. Climbing into bed, I leave the door unlocked as required and lie there waiting. Every sound makes me jump. The clock ticks toward midnight.
Eventually exhaustion takes over and sleep claims me.
My last thought: He's coming for me.
And somehow, that makes me even more excited.