Unleashed: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance Part 53

"What?" she says, appearing from the bedroom. She's put on some eyeliner, and has corralled her hair.

"We need to talk."

"We're not talking." She spits the words at me, all venom.

"Why?"

"Because you just made a deal with f.u.c.king mobsters."

"It's only a fight."

She points a finger at me. "You're an idiot Pierce, if you believe it's only going to be one time."

"Pen, it's practically retirement money."

"Oh," she challenges, hands on her hips. "That's what this is about, is it? Retirement?"

I grit my teeth, but say nothing.

"I thought so. Retirement. f.u.c.k you, Pierce. Don't get me involved in this."

"The fight is next Friday. I need you there, Pen."

"I don't care."

"Pen," I say. I walk up to her, but she pushes me violently away. "Pen, I need you there. I'll fight better if you're watching." What I tell her is partly true. But the other part of it is that I want her where I can see her. I don't want them getting their hands on her.

"Well, this is a fight I'm not watching."

"Why?"

"Because you didn't listen to me. You didn't even consult me before accepting whatever shady deal they gave you. I don't care how much money it is, it's all dirty."

"Consult you?" I ask. I can feel my temper starting to flare. "Why the f.u.c.k should I consult you?"

Penny stops her exit, and turns around. "Because you want me there. Because you want me."

She leaves, and slams the door.

And G.o.d f.u.c.king d.a.m.n it if she isn't f.u.c.king right about that.

I do want her.

It might just be that I need her.

Chapter Twenty Four.

The whirlwind enters my tattoo shop. All swagger, smug c.o.c.kiness. But it means nothing to me, now. He's just a whirlwind of trouble, scooping up all the s.h.i.+t he can into the eye of his storm.

Like I need that f.u.c.king turbulence in my life. Like I need all that d.a.m.n collateral.

It's been one day since I found out our parents are getting married. It's been a day since he agreed to fight in some shady mob setup that is sure to land him a and anyone connected to him a in trouble.

There is no way I want to see him, and I already told him that.

But, still, there he is, p.i.s.sing me off.

"We need to talk," he says.

"About what?" I ask, pus.h.i.+ng him into the small supply room in the back so Tina won't hear us. Vials of ink, spare tattoo machines, books, and medical supplies sit on shelves. There's a vacuum and a mop and bucket, too. We barely fit in.

"You already know what I think about this. You and I are over."

This annoying grin parts his lips.

"It's not funny."

"It is funny."

"It's not," I say. "Plus, now you're involved with the mob."

"Christ, Pen, I'm not involved. It's one fight and I'll win it."

"Oh, you're sure of that, are you?"

"I watched the tape. The guy's powerful but slow. I'll dance with him until he's ga.s.sed, and then hold him. Easy."

"You've got it all figured out, haven't you?"

"All of it."

He steps closer toward me, I notice that the veins on his arms are sticking out more, and that I can see muscle fibers under his skin.

"What's wrong with you? Are you sick?"

"No. Just getting ready for the fight."

I wait for him to say more, but he doesn't. Growing exasperated, I shake my head at him. "So? What are you here for? What do you want to talk about?"

"I need you at the fight, Pen."

"Why?"

"Because you'll get to see me in tiny shorts."

Despite myself, I laugh.

"Hey, it's me. You'll take what you can get."

"No," I say. He has a great way of ruining a joke. "No. We can't do this."

"Yes we can."

"On top of the fact that I don't want to watch you fight, it's too weird. We can't keep being together. It's too awkward. We'll be family soon."

"So? Cross that bridge when we get there."

"No," I say firmly.

He steps closer to me, takes my hand in his and pulls it up over my head. He begins to kiss the underside of my arm, moves to my neck. I don't want to, but I turn my head to the side, let him kiss me, let him smell me.

"Don't tell me it wasn't f.u.c.king unbelievable. I heard you."

"It doesn't matter."

"Don't tell me you don't still want it."

He presses my hand hard against the wall, pushes his body into mine. I can feel his hardness against my stomach.

"Pierce-"

"What good would it be for you to sacrifice something you want for the sake of your father?"

"It's not about that?"

"Oh? Because I could swear you've got a guilt complex about it. About leaving him."

"Shut up," I say.

"Isn't that what you told me at dinner?"

"Shut up, Pierce," I say.

I'm angry, but he's too strong; I can't pull my arm down, can't get out from under him. He pushes his forehead against mine, stares into my eyes. I see his wolf eyes.

"You're telling me you want this to end?"

"Yes."

"Bulls.h.i.+t. I make you feel alive. I make you feel dirty. I make you feel good."

His hand is sliding down the front of my body, and when I feel his fingers touch the skin beneath the b.u.t.ton of my jeans, I jolt.

"I want you, Pen."

"Why?" I ask.

He pushes his hand inside my underwear, plays with me, teases me. He squeezes my lips together, then spreads me. I feel it all, and I'm already so sensitive that when he rubs my c.l.i.t, I let out a soft moan. Appalled with myself, I try to get out, try to get away, but his whole body is against me.

"Stop it, Pierce," I whisper, but he doesn't. He rubs my c.l.i.t so deftly, and it's only moments before I feel my own wetness pressing back against me. I can smell his musk, feel his heat, feel his desperation for me. He wants me... he needs me. He'll never let me go.

I know it all. It's not just that he told me. I simply know it.

"Tell me you want me out of your life."

"I want you-"

"Tell me you never want to see me again. Tell me you never want to scream again, feel the best you've ever f.u.c.king felt."

He forces me to kiss him, claims my lips, rubs my c.l.i.t exactly how I need it. I can't concentrate anymore. I'm losing myself in it. I'm losing my grip.

I moan, my eyes fall shut. He rubs me so well, so fast, I'm right at the edge so quickly, too quickly.

"No," I say uselessly. He doesn't stop. I feel his finger at my entrance, and he pushes it in, and I shut my jaw tight so I don't make a sound.

I hate myself for opening my legs a little wider. I hate myself for gyrating my hips to the rhythm of his fingering.

He drives me racing forward, brings me to oblivion so quickly. I climax hard onto his hand, bury my face in his chest, and then I'm coming down, panting, shaken, fogged-up.

"Why don't you care?" I snarl.

"I do care."

"Then tell me why you want me."

He pulls back, like he's confused, or like he's contemplating something for the first time. I'm left standing against the wall, my arm still above my head, breathless, panting, my s.e.x still quivering.

"Tell me!" I cry. My voice breaks.

His eyes meet mine, and this time there's something else there. More than just base l.u.s.t. More than just Pierce Fletcher getting his way.

He turns around and leaves.

"Why?" I shout at his back. The door's bell ding as it closes behind him. "Coward!"

I'm shaking with a heady mix of anger and disappointment.

Why couldn't he just tell me?