Hot Protector(24)

“You can’t, Sophie. Nor should you have to. Tyler made his bed. He has to lie in it.” He let her go and blew out a breath. “You know, I get that he’s been good to you and you probably love him. He wasn’t good to me, and I just don’t see him the same way you do. I don’t suppose that makes either of us wrong. Just different.”

She blinked at him, and he wondered if she understood how huge an admission that was for him. That Tyler Nash was capable of kindness and warmth, and that Chase could understand why Sophie would care for him.

Her mouth fell open, closed—and then she seemed to make up her mind because her gaze hardened just a little. “Tyler’s not bad, but he’s not terrific either. He’s self-centered. Everything is about Tyler. Everything.”

She shook her hair off her shoulders, and Chase gaped at her. Both for the sensuality of the maneuver and for what she was saying.

“He’s given me a good life, there’s no doubt about that. But you have no idea what it was like to be a child growing up with two people so self-centered as Tyler and my mother. I was an accessory. Something cute and fun and useful, but not necessary, if that makes sense.”

She’d stunned him. “I’m sorry,” he managed, because he didn’t know what else to say.

She sniffed. “Well, and that’s more than I’ve ever said to anyone about my home life. Wow.”

She reached for a napkin and dabbed at her eyes. Chase felt like shit.

“I thought you had a perfect life. Everything you wanted whenever you wanted it. Opportunity. Two parents who loved you.”

Her head came up, her eyes glittering. “Oh, they love me—or my mom does anyway. But look at me, Chase.”

He was looking at her and he liked what he saw. But she looked expectant, like she thought he was supposed to find something wrong with her and comment on it.

“You’re gorgeous, Sophie,” he said, without meaning to.

She bowed her head for a second. “That’s sweet of you—but what I was going to say is that I was a bit of a disappointment for two people as beautiful as Tyler and my mom. No matter how I tried, I was always fat. I’m the girl who can’t wear a bikini at pool parties, who has to be careful what she eats when guests are over because one bite of the wrong thing and they’ll be talking about it to their friends and embarrassing my mom when it gets back to her. I’ve spent my life wondering why I don’t look like her and trying like hell to get there. But I like grilled cheese, dammit. And wings, pizza, burgers—yet even if I ate none of those things, I’d never have a body like hers. I know because I tried.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. It made him sick to think of her as a little girl trying so desperately to fit in. To be skinny. He hated like hell that her mother had made her feel like she couldn’t eat. That her mother had allowed a kid—a kid—to worry about what people said about her.

The whole fucking thing infuriated him. And he couldn’t let that slide. He couldn’t let her think she was anything less than a beautiful woman in her own right.

“Your mother is banging, Soph,” he said, and she gave a sad little laugh before he could finish. “Hear me out—so are you. You’ve got a sweet body, a hot body—a body I’d like to explore if the circumstances were different. I think you’re fucking hotter than hell.”

Her jaw had dropped a little while he spoke. Maybe he’d said too much, but dammit, he hated to see her fieriness dimming over something so ridiculous. She was fucking gorgeous and she needed to know it. She needed to know that not every man on this planet thought a woman needed to be capable of gracing the pages of Sports Illustrated in order to be desirable.

“You’re sweet, Chase. Really sweet. I appreciate your saying that.”

It took him a minute to figure out that she thought he was just humoring her. Trying to make her feel better.

And that made him mad. Reckless.

“You know, I’ve been sitting here looking at you in that robe, wondering what’s underneath, and fighting a hard-on for the past half hour. I’ve been telling myself that you’re off-limits because you’re supposed to be my stepsister, but the truth is that’s just an excuse. Because right now, if you dropped that robe, I’d be all over you, Sophie. And then I’d be in you, pounding away until my head exploded. So don’t tell me I’m sweet. I’m not fucking sweet. I’m a guy who’d fuck you in a heartbeat if you let me.”





12


Heat blossomed across her skin, making the robe suddenly uncomfortable enough that she seriously considered dropping it to cool off. Her throat went dry at the thought of what might happen then.