Vulture (a Stepbrother Romance) -(21)

“Harvey,” I said, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question,” he said, staring at my black and white uniform.

“I got a job, what does it look like?” I said, the edges of a smile making an appearance on my face. It was good to see him again; I hated how much of a bitch I’d been the last time we spoke. He’d only been trying to help. “Gotta make ends meet.”

I tried to make light of the situation, to reassure him that I was doing OK, but his questioning eyes had the undesired of effect of making me think twice about trying to fool him.

He frowned at me. “But what about your work at the animal shelter? You loved it there didn’t you?”

“They couldn’t take me on full-time, let alone pay me. So I had to take the first thing I could get. Eric isn’t here to look after me anymore. I had to get off my fat arse and work.”

“Sara,” he warned, “don’t say things like that about yourself. You are far from fat.” He took the chair opposite me; his hands reached out, taking my hands in his larger ones, sending a domino effect of delicious ripples up my arms. “But all things aside, are you OK?”

I decided to put on a brave face and said nonchalantly, “I’m a big girl, Harvey. You don’t have to worry about me.”

He scoffed. “That ship has already sailed.”

I forced a smile. “I’m doing great. And to prove it, how about you come around tonight, and I’ll cook you a meal as my way of apologising for being a horrible cow towards you the other day?”

His face broke into a grin.

“That sounds great. What time do you want me?”

“Anytime,” I replied, enjoying the way my hands fit comfortably in his.





8





Harvey





“There’s no way I’m going out with her,” I said after a minute.

“Oh, come on. It’s not like you to turn down a sure thing. Stop being picky and text her. I told her you would,” said Sadie.

I leaned back against my swivelling leather executive’s chair, my spine protesting as I stretched the muscles of my back. They were still aching after the lunchtime workout of front and back squats I’d managed to squeeze into my day. The ache was nice; I revelled in it, loving the way my body felt after a punishing set of heavy weights. It was almost akin to the feeling I got after pounding my cock into the sweetest pussy—almost, but not quite. A bit like the other night, I thought, remembering the cute little bartender who I’d used as a distraction. She hadn’t a tattoo or wayward piercing in sight. I’d worked my magic and been able to persuade her to drop her panties and let me take her up against the bar after closing. She’d squealed and held on tight, clutching the old-fashioned beer taps, occasionally grabbing too hard and letting the beer flow onto the sticky floor as I fucked her cunt.

I’d let my imagination run wild. She was the same height as Sara, the same heart shaped bottom… but the bartender wasn’t the real McCoy, and as much as I tried to pretend that the breasts I squeezed belonged to another, it was all just an illusion, a means to an end. A way to fulfil my fantasy without fucking up the growing relationship I had with my stepsister. And even thought we weren’t exactly on speaking terms at the moment, I couldn’t get her out of my head. It was probably best we’d had that fight; it had made me stay away. It should have given me the chance to cool down… but it was having the opposite effect.

Sadie tapped her pen against the pad she was holding, cutting through my train of thought and bringing me back. I groaned, my cock stiff beneath my desk from the memory. “David, put the girl out of her misery.”

“Let me look at her again,” I said and pulled up the dating site Sadie had insisted that I sign up to. She was determined to get me slice of the normal life, paired up and locked into a relationship forever. But I was happy as I was—what man wouldn’t be? Wasn’t I? Well, at least until the perfect specimen came along. Even then, would I ever consider giving up my bachelorhood?

“So, how long have you known this girl?”

“A few years. We went to uni together. Look if you don’t like her, all you have to do is tell her you’re busy. I’ll get shit from her, but what else is new? But she’s cute, no?”

I stared down at the woman’s picture and studied her slightly crooked nose, hooded lids and broad forehead. Definitely not my type, even if she was willing to spread her legs wide at my command. Freckles plagued her face, small and large, strewn over the curves of her cheekbones. My lip curled; even if I was looking for my everlasting mate right now, the woman on the screen was definitely not her. I had standards. I wanted someone perfect.