Cockney:A Stepbrother Romance(16)

     



 



You should've just gone home, I growl inside my head. You fucking twat.



And I was all set to, too. I was all set to get the fuck out of that  restaurant and head home for a pint and maybe some football highlights  when I saw the two of them all fuckin' chummy.



There's the first alarm bells; Marco being "chummy" with a chick. Of  course, then I heard about my cooks going out for beers after that  nightmare of a shift, and there's no way I wasn't chaperoning that shit.



So here we are. The rest of the crew probably thinks it's "cool" that  I'm out with them; probably thinks it's so wicked that they get to hang  with the rock star "Chef Ollie" while he slums it at the pub with the  line-guys.



Yeah, right. And here I am peeling labels from beer bottles, ignoring  the hot little dish on my lap, and murdering Marco with my eyes while I  try and get my stepsister out of my head.



Real fucking glamourous life I've got here.



Chloe's laughing at every damn word he says, which is one thing on its  own, but then she's also shooting me quick looks as if I somehow don't  see them. And that tells me she wants to make sure I see it, and that  gets under my skin.



Marco says something hilarious that he probably fucking stole from me  anyways, and as I watch Chloe playfully slap his arm and bat her eyes at  him like some sort of fucking ditz like Delia over here. I feel my  temper start to get the better of me.



Delia turns to giggle with another waitress that's out with us, and I  take the moment to take my phone out and fire a text Chloe's way:



"We need to talk."



She glances at the phone as it lights in her hand before shrugging and  putting it face down on her lap as she turns back to Marco. I grit my  teeth. This is not the kind of bullshit game I want to play; with anyone  come to think of it, but least of all Chloe. I text her again, furious  that I'm fucking texting her like the same sort of pussy as the one  whining over the sound system:



"Now."



She glances at her phone when it buzzes on her thigh, and she smirks  this time. Smirks. Delia's hands is on my leg, squeezing my thigh, but I  grab my phone and shoot off one more text:



"Get your sweet ass up and meet me out back or I'm going to carry you  there over my shoulder. Don't pretend you don't know that I will."



I follow it with one of those retarded winky faces, just to keep her guessing.



It works. This time when she looks at the phone across the table from me  and gets ready to smirk again, her eyes dart immediately to mine.



Yeah, just try and play the cool card, darlin, I grin to myself. Just try and call that bluff and see what happens.



She smiles and says something to Marco before she gets up, shooting me  another venomous look. I grin, pleased with myself, and give it a second  before telling Delia I have to go smoke as I push her off my lap.



She looks at me with this stupid little pout that I'm sure looks cute in  her mind. "Ollie are you playing? You don't even smoke?"



"Yeah, wow. Strange, eh?" I shrug, ignoring her and her friend's dumb looks as I walk away and into the crowd of the pub.



Chloe's waiting in the back, in the dark hallway by the bathrooms.



"Okay, what is it that couldn't wait, Oliver," she spits at me, her eyes wild and glaring, her arms crossed over her chest.



"I know what you're doing."



She narrows her eyes at me, flashing that defiant look that somehow gets right under my skin and lights a fire there.



"Oh, and I don't know what you're doing?"



"I don't do games, you know," I say, arching my brow at her and letting  my eyes catch, for just a second, at the subtle rise and fall of her  chest with her breathing.



"Who's playing games?" She spits.



I take a step closer, smirking at her as my eyes dart across her face in  the dim shadows of the hallway, "Trying to make me jealous?"



"Oh, please, like you aren't pulling the same shit with that little  blonde thing that's been crawling all over your lap all night. I'm not  trying to make you jealous, I'm just out having a lovely time with a  nice man."



She gasps as I suddenly grab her wrists and pin her back against the  wall behind her. She doesn't say a damn thing, but her eyes dart across  mine and her cheeks flush a deep red that I can see even in the dim  light back here.



I move against her and she gasps as I lean my mouth right into the crook  of her neck, "Let's get something straight right now, luv," I say into  her ear, my voice low and deep, "I don't want you out having ‘a lovely  time' with anyone like Marco."



I can see her throat move with a swallow as she opens her mouth, "You can't just decide who I talk to, you know."



She trembles as I run my hand up her side; sliding higher until my hand  brushes against her breast through her shirt. She moans softly and  quietly, and it's just enough of a sound to get my cock rock hard in my  jeans.



"Oh?" I chuckle deeply into her ear, pressing her hard against the wall  with my body molded against hers and feeling her pulse jump in her  wrists beneath my fingers. "Watch me," I whisper, and before she can say  a word, and before I can even let one more second pass by without doing  it, I nip at her earlobe with my teeth before running my tongue over  the skin there.



She moans then; fuckin' moans, and if I wasn't hard before, I'm practically tearing a hole in my pants now.



She rocks her hips against me, and I know she can feel how fucking hard  my cock is for her. Part of me wants to push that skirt up around her  hips, tear her panties to the side and fuck her right there in the  fucking hallways. But maybe it's the cocky prick in me, or maybe there's  something so fucking sexy in that defiant fire inside of her that makes  me pause and grin wickedly. Maybe it's that being in charge of a whole  kitchen's gone right to my head, or maybe it's just that I can't ever  just give in without a fight.



Whatever the fuck it is, I decided right there that I'm not ready to let  her off the hook yet. The girl that left me high and dry all those  years ago and who I've been playing this little tease game back and  forth with ever since she got to London? Yeah, I'm not giving in that  easy.



Because first I wanna hear her beg me for it.



"Besides, luv," I husk in her ear, nipping at the skin there, "I bet you love when I tell you what you can and can't do."



"Keep thinking that, you arrogant-ooh." The fire in her words trails off  into this sexy fucking moan as I suck her earlobe between my teeth and  rock my hips against her.



My hand slides between us, and she whimpers as it finds her bare leg and  starts to slide up under her skirt. I boldly move it higher, and she  gasps as she looks deeply into my eyes.



"I don't have to ‘think' anything, sweetheart," I growl into her ear. "Because I know you're soaking wet right now."



Her eyes flutter shut as my hand trails higher, "I am not," she says  quietly and utterly unconvincingly with the way her breath hitches and  the way that flush spreads across her cheeks.



Her lips part and quiver as my fingers slide over the front of her  panties, feeling the heat of her cleft there; feeling the wetness as I  press my fingers against her opening through them.



"Liar," I growl into her ear, and she gasps quietly. I slip my hand into  the top of her panties, pushing it down until my fingers stop just shy  of her wetness.



Her eyes fly open as I stop, anxiously searching my face as I just grin at her.



"Oh, did you want me to keep going?" I smirk at her, "Admit it,  sweetheart," I take her hand and place it over the bulge in my trousers  as I lean back into her ear, "You'd love it if I just took this big cock  and fucked you right here in the hallway, wouldn't you?"



I know I'm being crass, and crude, and all sorts of dirty right now. And  I know that fuckin' anyone we work with could come strolling back and  see me with my hand up her skirt and her hand on my cock right here in  the hallways.



But this girl has me so on fire right now that I couldn't stop what I was doing right now even if the fucking roof caved in.



This is the moment when I need her to push me away. This is the tipping  point where we're balanced on that ledge, and I need her slap some sense  into the both of us before we go toppling over that edge together.



Except in that moment, she doesn't do that all. Instead, her eyes  flutter closed, her pouty lips part just slightly, and a single word  comes tumbling from that tongue:



"Yes."



It's more orgasmic moan than it is word, and it's possibly the sexiest fucking thing I've ever heard in my life.



I growl into her ear. She whimpers, her hand stroking my cock slowly  through my pants. I lean in, my lips brushing against her earlobe, "Then  all you've gotta do is ask me nicely, luv," I nip at her ear, my finger  still lingering just shy of her clit. "Just say the words, sweetheart,"  I growl, feeling her shudder against me, "‘yes chef'."