Chapter 9 #2
“Oh, I got it. My stepmom’s personal trainer.” He eyes him up and down. “I gotta say, it’s not obvious, but don’t worry, bro, I totally believe having lean muscle is just as impressive as having actual muscle.”
“Derek!” I say through, clenched teeth.
His eyes flick to mine, and he winks over a cocky smile. He scrunches his face as he takes me in. “Wow…you look…shellacked…” He grimaces and tugs a strand of my straightened hair.
“I apologize, Lewis,” Mom interjects. “This is Derek, Isabella’s stepbrother. You know how siblings can be.”
I cringe at her words, almost taking the place of Derek and his constant reiteration that we’re stepsiblings.
Lewis smiles. “Oh, don’t worry. I have friends who are older brothers. I know how protective they can get. Nice to meet you, dude. Heard a lot about you.” It’s not true. I never talked about Derek to Lewis. He knew I had a stepbrother, but that’s about it.
Derek’s lower lip protrudes and he eyes Lewis from head to toe before blowing out a breath and turning his attention to the chicken breast before him. He jams his fork into the meat and brings it to his mouth, taking a bite as if he’s a wild animal. Which makes me wonder…
I look for a sign of his shift. His eyes hold a crazed look and his teeth seem too big for his mouth. This isn’t going to end well.
Darrell returns with another plate, seeming to also notice Derek’s subtle transformation and giving him a death stare. Derek catches it and cools a bit, the lines smoothing between his eyes.
I try not to let my worry show and pick at my own chicken breast. Mine is smaller than everyone else’s.
Must be the doing of my mother. It pisses me off.
I snatch a roll off the center of the table, wishing she could see me silently rebelling against her weight-loss wishes, but she’s too busy yapping at Lewis, who to his credit seems genuinely intrigued by whatever self gratifying tales she’s choosing to spew.
I clean my plate, a second away from licking the remnants, when something brushes against my leg, making me jump. No one notices my startling. Lewis discusses a controversy over different paperweights featuring his colleagues’ business cards. My parents stare at him as if he’s a stand-up comedian.
This time the brush isn’t a mystery. I glare at my stepbrother, his hand trailing up my thigh, heading underneath my skirt. He smiles, not looking at me, resting his head in his other hand as he pretends to listen to whatever Lewis says.
I attempt to swat him away from under the table, but he tightens his grip on my thigh, nails almost breaking skin.
I wince and Mom gives me a quick sideway glance, causing me to freeze in place.
It’s exactly what Derek wants to happen.
I don’t look at him but I can practically feel the pleased grin at the corner of his lips as he drags his fingers up, moving closer and closer to my core.
Her attention only lasts a second, but I don’t let my mask slip from my face.
I tighten my legs together, but Derek slaps my thigh.
I nearly shriek at the sound. Thankfully no one noticed.
I'm still trying to work out how to get out of his game, but Derek doesn’t waste a second, drawing invisible lines on my skin, moving closer to where I want him most. I get lost in his touch, my attention siphoned to each moving point.
It takes everything in me not to let the breathy moan at the back of my throat escape or to let my eyelids droop.
He reaches the lace of my underwear snapping the fabric against my skin and I jolt, jumping to my feet. Everyone flashes their attention to me. “I have to go to the bathroom,” I say, almost a shout.
Mom gives me a death stare under her smoky eyeshadow that she replicated on my own face.
My cheeks heat as I race away from the table, run up the stairs and throw myself into the bathroom, catching my breath on the back of the door.
Even with the distance, the fire at the base of my spine doesn’t extinguish.
Heated images of my stupid stepbrother swim through my skull and it seems there’s only one way to make it all stop.
There’s no time to think. The longer I stay in here the more suspicious everyone will be.
They probably won’t even notice I’m gone, but I can’t risk it.
I prop one foot on the toilet and bunch my panties to the side, shuddering once my fingers meet the flooding wetness between my legs.
This shouldn’t last long, I’m already so close just from Derek’s teasing touch.
I swipe myself gently. I don’t need to move any faster to get to my edge.
My eyes fall closed and a moan escapes my throat.
I’m lost in the pleasure. The outside of this bathroom doesn’t exist, only nerve endings, only the stupid image of Derek.
The door swings open and I scream. My leg slips off the toilet lid. Derek stands in the entryway, watching me with hungry eyes as he twirls the little bathroom key kept above the door frame in between his fingers.
He eyes me up and down. “Need some help, sis?”