Scarlett
The silence in the car is heavier than the night pressing in around us, thicker than the smell of whiskey and sweat clinging to him. His words still scrape down my spine like claws—You’ll pay for that, little sister. You have no fucking idea.
I can’t get them out of my head.
My cheeks burn, my thighs ache, and every shift in the seat reminds me of what I just did. What he just made me do. Grinding against him like some desperate slut, soaking through my panties, shivering when I felt how hard he was for me.
Shame coils tight in my stomach, hot and sick.
He’s my stepbrother. My brother. This isn’t supposed to happen, not in any world. I should hate myself more than I hate him—but I can still feel it. The way his cock pressed against me, the way his groan ripped out when I whispered in his ear, the way he held me down like he’d never let me go.
I press my thighs together, hating the slick heat that answers me, hating the way my body betrays every ounce of defiance I try to spit at him.
I glance at him out of the corner of my eye.
His jaw clenched, his knuckles were white on the wheel, and his blue eyes locked straight ahead as if he thought he would break if he looked at me again.
His cheek is still red where I slapped him, his shirt raked from my nails, and part of me wants to laugh. Part of me wants to cry.
Mostly, I want to forget, but I know I won’t. Not tonight. Not ever, because no matter how much I try to bury it, the truth is choking me raw—I wanted it.
I hate myself for that most of all.
The hum of the engine is the only sound, steady and low, but inside my head it’s chaos. Every second replays, every movement, every filthy word he dragged out of me like he already owned it.
The heat of his hands on my hips.
The weight of him beneath me.
The sound he made when I ground down hard enough to make him lose his breath.
I squeeze my eyes shut, shake my head like I can throw it off, but the shame digs deeper, burrowing in my chest. My thighs are damp, my panties soaked through, and the more I shift, the more I feel it — the undeniable proof that my body betrayed me.
Stepbrother. The word is acid. I choke on it.
Kai.
I should hate him. I do hate him. He’s twisted, obsessive, cruel.
He drags me out of bars, pins me against walls, stalks me like I’m prey.
He’s dangerous, unhinged. He’s the one thing I should never, ever want, and still, the memory makes me clench, makes heat spark low in my stomach until I want to crawl out of my own skin.
I grip my knees, nails biting crescent moons into them, biting my lip until I taste blood. My chest heaves, my pulse too loud in my ears.
How am I supposed to face him after this? How am I supposed to live in that house, sit across from him at breakfast, walk past his door at night, knowing what we’ve already done?
Knowing how close I came to breaking.
I can still feel his breath on my ear, the way his voice dropped to that filthy growl. Because of you. Always you. Only you.
And it wrecks me because in the pit of my stomach, in the part of me I want to tear out and burn, I wanted him to mean it.
The headlights sweep across the dark road, familiar turns bringing us closer to the house. My chest is still tight, my thighs pressed together, every nerve raw. I can’t stand the silence anymore — it’s too heavy, too dangerous.
So I say the one thing I know might break it.
“Let’s just…” My voice cracks, so I clear my throat, force the words sharper. “Let’s just forget this ever happened, Kai. Go back to normal. Pretend it was nothing.”
The words hang between us, brittle and thin. For half a second, I almost believe they might stick. That he might let me tuck it away, bury it under the thousand other sins we’ve never spoken of.
Then I see his grip on the wheel tighten, the leather groaning under his hands. His jaw flexes hard, the muscle ticking at his temple, and when he finally turns his head, the look in his eyes steals the air right out of me.
Cold. Furious. Possessive.
“Normal?” he repeats, voice low, lethal. “You think there’s any going back after tonight?”
My stomach drops, my shame boiling hotter, but I lift my chin anyway, my voice trembling as I throw it back at him. “Yes. That’s exactly what I think. We never talk about it again. We bury it. You keep your distance, I keep mine. Normal.”
His laugh is dark, guttural, broken. “You really believe you can sit on my lap, grind yourself all over my cock, soak me through…” He leans closer, his breath rough against my ear. “…and go back to fucking normal?”
The car jolts as his hand slams the wheel, the sound ricocheting through the silence. My heart lurches, my shame twists tighter, and I hate myself for how much my body trembles under his words because deep down I know — he’s right.
There’s no normal anymore.
The tires crunch over gravel as the house looms out of the dark, windows black, the whole place heavy with silence. My stomach knots tighter with every foot closer, my nails digging into my palms.
“Please, Kai,” I whisper, my voice breaking, my throat raw. “Let’s just… pretend. Pretend none of this happened. Pretend it was a mistake. Please.”
The car rolls to a stop, the engine still humming, headlights painting the front steps in pale light. For a second he doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, just grips the wheel like he wants to tear it in half.
Then he laughs, low, rough, dangerous.
“Pretend?” His head turns, eyes catching mine in the dash’s glow, blue burning into me. “You think I could pretend after feeling you shiver on my cock? After hearing you whisper filth in my ear like you wanted it?”
My whole body jerks, heat flooding my face. “I didn’t.”
“Don’t lie to me,” he cuts in, voice sharp, lethal. His hand shoots across the console, fingers gripping my jaw, tilting my face toward him. His thumb presses just beneath my mouth, right where my pulse hammers. “You wanted it. You still want it.”
Tears sting my eyes, shame twisting through me, but I shake my head weakly against his grip. “No. Please. Just let it go. We can’t.”
His mouth curves into a smirk that makes my stomach drop. “We already did.”
The engine ticks as it cools, the silence heavier than ever, and in that moment, with his hand still on my jaw and his breath hot against my cheek, I know pretending will never be enough because Kai won’t let me forget.
The engine ticks in the silence, headlights still blazing against the house. I can’t breathe with his hand on my jaw, his eyes burning into me. Every second stretches tighter, hotter, until I blurt the first thing that comes to my lips.
“Kai, just…” My voice cracks, shame clawing at my throat. “I don’t know, fuck, date Ava. She seems like a nice girl. Just… have a life. Forget this. Forget me.”
For a heartbeat, the words hang there. I almost believe they might land. Maybe he’ll laugh, shove me away, storm into the house and leave me shaking in the car.
Instead, his grip on my jaw tightens, his teeth grit, and the sound that rips out of him is low and lethal.
“I don’t fucking want her.”
The words explode in the small space, shattering the silence. His chest heaves, his eyes wild, every inch of him trembling like he’s holding back a storm.
“I can’t forget, Scarlett,” he snarls, his forehead pressing to mine, breath hot and ragged. “I can’t forget tonight. I can’t forget the way you felt grinding down on me. I can’t forget the sound you made when I told you that you’re the reason I’m this fucking hard.”
Tears sting my eyes, shame burns through me, but my body betrays me with a shiver that I know he feels.
His voice drops, rough, broken. “I can’t forget, baby sister. I won’t.”
The car feels too small, the air too thin, his confession pressed between us like a loaded gun.
And the worst part?
Neither can I.