Stepbrother Untouchable(22)

I press my tongue against his as my hands move of their own accord up to his chest. I lay my palms against his pecs and feel his racing heartbeat under his rapidly rising and falling chest. It's my first hint that there's something else hiding under his completely confident exterior.

His tongue moves deeper into my mouth, and his hands pull me close against his body. I wrap my arms around his neck and run my fingers through the hair falling onto the collar of his polo. I can feel his erection pushing against my stomach as he slides one hand over my ass. I want nothing more than to rip my clothes off, jump on his bed, and be ravaged by him…to feel his mouth all over my body…inside me…

Suddenly he pulls away. I almost fall forward in surprise as my eyes blink open.

“I shouldn't have done that,” he mutters.

“Why?” I whisper, falling quickly from my cloud.

“It's wrong…you're my stepsister. Maybe it's best if we just keep our distance from each other.”

“Yeah, you’re right…” I reply, feeling like he's just slapped me in the face. I walk quickly to the door. I pause before I open it, wishing I could put into words what I'm feeling, but I can't. I open the door and close it softly behind me before rushing to my room.

As I curl up under the covers, I try to wrap my mind around all the twists this night has taken. I can't believe Nate and I just kissed. I mean, I've been dreaming about that moment since I first laid eyes on him freshman year. I've found that most things in life don't live up to how I've built them up in my head, but that kiss far surpassed any fantasy. I can feel my body reacting at just the thought of his lips touching mine again.

But is he right? Was it wrong of us to do that? Light is creeping around the sides of my shades by the time I manage to fall asleep, and I still haven't managed to find an answer.





CHAPTER TWELVE





Nate and I pass the next few weeks as though we're each surrounded by an invisible force field. Whenever one of us enters a room, the other is propelled out of it. We're only pushed into close proximity with each other when we have a family dinner, though my mom has been pushing those on us quite frequently in an effort to bond.

If she only knew.

Today, though, Nate's and my presence is required at the same event: the Thornhill's annual Fourth of July party. It's in our very own backyard, starting in the afternoon with a crab boil and extending through the evening fireworks. Apparently we'll get a good view of the country club's annual fireworks display just down the river.

My mom has absolutely insisted on buying me a new dress for the occasion, and even came into the fitting room with me to make sure it fit correctly. The shift dress is not exactly my style, but I've seen it on plenty of girls at school. I'm just worried about spilling tartar sauce on the bright white fabric. I pull on my new pair of gold wedges, and walk downstairs to see if my mom needs any help.

I'm taken aback by the flurry of activity downstairs. As I walk outside, I realize I've underestimated the scale of this party. When I heard “crab boil,” I was picturing a few picnic tables with red and white tablecloths, but this is clearly a classy affair. There are elegant round tables set, with flowing linens and extravagant centerpieces on top of them. The food is presented in silver trays, and garlands festoon the perimeter. I spot my mom talking in hushed, urgent tones to one of the caterers, and head over.

“Oh, Brynn, you look beautiful! That dress fits you so well,” she gushes.

“Thanks…do you need any help?”

“Mmm, no. I think we're OK. The guests should begin arriving in about ten minutes. Oh, go taste the Freedom Martini over at the bar and tell me what you think. I'm worried it's a little too sweet.”

“The Freedom Martini?”

“The signature cocktail we created for this event,” the caterer next to her chimes in with a chipper grin.

“Ah, of course,” I reply, heading for the bar. The bartender serves me a pale pink drink and I take a sip. Not too sweet—it's delicious, light and refreshing. Luckily the day isn't too hot, anyway. The temperature has managed to stay below ninety degrees for the party.

I decide to go down to the river since I'd just feel in the way while they’re setting up. I walk down to the lower lawn and down the steps. As I reach the shore, I navigate the rocky sand cautiously in my heels. A splash on the other side of the large boulder grabs my attention. I walk toward it and peer around. Nate's standing there, skipping rocks with a smooth sidearm motion. I pause, admiring his form, then decide it's best to just go back up to the lawn before he notices me. He's made it clear he doesn't want to talk to me.

I turn back and as I walk my heel catches on a rock. I gasp as I slip sideways, and feel two strong hands catching me under my arms to hold me up.