One kiss almost unraveled everything. And if there's a second kiss, or – God forbid – we go further, I'll never live it down. I'll ruin myself and this whole screwed up family.
No man's worth my reputation, I keep telling myself. Not even one who looks like a Prince and talks like a convict. Especially not a man with a brutal knack for invading my every waking second.
Later, at home, I eat a quick dinner with Mom and Gary. They ask me all about my internship.
Gary doesn't even mention the new car until I do, and then he brushes it off like it's nothing. I know he's a billionaire, but my brain has a hard time reconciling my strange new reality.
We talk about my job, Alaska, the times the Vice President made a drunken ass out of himself at the private parties Mom attended in DC. Anything light and positive, really.
Everything except Ty, who's conspicuously absent.
I'm digging at the last of my garlic potatoes when I get the stupid idea to ask about him. “So, uh, where's big brother?”
Mom freezes up and Gary's laughter over the VP's secret antics goes dead silent. His lips pull tight in what resembles the world's most uncomfortable smile.
“Forgive me. I'm afraid my son hasn't given up wasting his days on practice for those barbaric fights he loves. I doubt we'll see him until tomorrow.”
Gary's obviously had a lot of practice making excuses for Ty. All the zen-like cool in the world doesn't keep me from noticing how hard he stabs his fork into his next bite of steak.
Mom saves the day by going back to DC, telling us all how grateful she is to be taking some time away from that God forsaken place. I laugh along with my parents, but I'm not sure whether to believe her.
She never talks about her campaigns until they're imminent. For all I know, I'll be wearing a pretty dress and taking time off next year to stump for her Senate seat.
Ugh.
It's a joy when Joan comes in to clear away the plates and serve coffee. I take mine downstairs in a big mug, asking for decaf. I've got to be careful to allow myself more time tomorrow morning, before I'm due back at the office.
By eight o'clock, I've taken my shower, and there's no sign of Ty. I cuddle up in bed with a book, more tired than I realize. I slip into a sleep that doesn't break until my phone wakes me up at dawn.
I'm almost dressed and ready for breakfast when there's a knock on my door. I walk over and jerk it open. Standing in front of me is the Asshole-in-Chief. Shirtless, ripped, and heavily inked. The snarling tiger on his chest matches his expression.
“Here. You asked me about the shit I do, and I'm gonna give you a chance to find out. I've changed my mind about this crap between us – I want us to have an understanding.” He pushes a little scrap of paper into my hands. It's a small envelope.
I'm at a loss for words. I always am, except when he's digging his fingers into all my buttons. It's hard not to stare at the towel around his waist, knowing he must be naked without it. Naked and standing in front of me like it's just another normal brother-sister visit.#p#分页标题#e#
Ha. Ha ha awkward ha.
“Ty,” I say his name, and he cuts me off instantly.
“Just look at what I gave you and decide what you wanna do, Sis. I've already forgotten the shit that went down between us. It's ancient history.”
He turns and starts walking to his room. I'm too stunned to talk until it's too late, and the magnificent view of his strong, grabbable ass moving beneath the towel doesn't help.
“Wait!” He slams his bedroom door shut.
There's no sign he heard me, or cares to listen if he did. I gently close my door and begin tearing at the envelope.
I see a date and time – Saturday night. The place – Club Zing. Also, something sensational about blood being spilled, a knock down drag out fight for a good cause, and all the gloves coming off. There's a small glittery ticket with the words VIP stamped on it.
Heaven help me.
IV: Knock Out (Ty)
I knew something was wrong when I fucked the hell out of Maggie and woke up feeling like I hadn't gotten pussy for a week.
No, adding a second or third chick to my debauchery wouldn't have done shit. Neither would heading down to the gym and knocking the shit outta my favorite punching bag 'til my arms go numb.
It's her, goddamn it. Little Miss Perfect.
Sister. Bitch. Stranger.
Addiction.
Maggie milked my dick dry, and I couldn't even focus on her. My balls wouldn't blow 'til I imagined Claire under me, biting her soft little lip and digging her nails into my back.
Fuck, that lip. I wanna sink my teeth in. I'd kill a man to bite that soft, rosy flap of flesh. And if I told you what I'd do to plant my cock between her legs and slap my balls off her ass, I'd probably be captured and tried for war crimes.