Stepbrother's Irish Cream (Stepbrother Short Reads #9)

Cillian MacCarthy is the last man I should want. Broad. Tattooed. Eight years older. The second I step onto that Irish driveway he kisses me like he already owns me, hand sliding under my jacket before either of us knows who I am.

Then my mother drops the bomb and everything changes. He’s my new stepbrother. The heat in his eyes turns sharp and darker.

I’ve been hiding a secret for weeks. A hormonal imbalance that leaves my breasts full, and leaking milk, a humiliation I’ve spent every day hiding. He finds out the night I’m too weak to hide it anymore. One touch. One moment of weakness. And the truth is in his hands.

After that we keep colliding. Every time I’m most vulnerable he’s already there.

Steady hands. Quiet voice. Looking at me like the secret doesn’t make me broken.

Like it makes me his. Soon, it becomes our ritual.

I let him make the tea. I let him take control.

I let him drink the milk straight from my skin until I’m shaking.

I tell myself I can keep the line. That the heat is just chemistry. That summer will end and so will this.

But every time he empties me and holds me through it the line disappears a little more. He’s freeing the parts of me I kept locked away, teaching me to stop hiding. To let him keep every part of me that used to feel like a secret.

I’m falling for the man who was never supposed to see the real me.

And I don’t know how to stop the fall.