Mine: A Stepbrother Romance: (With bonus novel Bossy!) (35 page)

He doesn’t. I could move away, but I don’t.

“Say it like you mean it, and maybe I’ll listen.” His foot slides farther up, almost slipping in under my skirt.

“Don’t you think we’re a little old for playing footsie?” This time I move my leg away, trying to ignore the tingles he’s sending up my thigh.

He considers my words for a moment, his gaze distant while he chews his lip. “You know what? You’re right. Why play footsie when we could be fucking on my desk?” He grabs it as if he’s about to stand up. “No time like the present, right?”

Oh for... “I don’t know, ask me again in a decade and I’ll let you know.”

“I think you are vastly overestimating my patience.” He laughs and I watch him count to five on his fingers. “How about now? I think now might be even better.”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, you must be right. I can just tell that right now is the perfect time to tear off our clothes and go at it. Right here, right now.”

Crap, it was supposed to be a joke, but saying the words out loud was a huge mistake. My panties are sticking to me, and it’s not from the temperature.

He doesn’t get up, but he does lean over his desk, coming closer. “I knew it. You’re thinking it over, aren’t you? I can see it. Right now, I bet you’re picturing yourself spreading your legs and leaning over.”

He leans closer. “Naked.”

He grins. “On top of this desk, with your gorgeous tits mashed down until they spill out around you.”

Reaching out, Declan touches my arm gently. I startle, but I don’t recoil. “Your sexy arms tied behind your back.”

His voice softens. “Helpless while I step up behind you and put my hands on your curvy hips, gripping them hard. Waiting for me as I inch closer, until just the tip brushes against you, and I make you beg for it.”

This time I try to pull away. The game is going too far, but his hand locks around my wrist, his strong fingers like iron holding me in place. Molten heat rushes down between my legs, making me yearn for him. My mouth opens to tell him to let go, but all that comes out is a tiny helpless sigh.

“‘Mr. Riordan,’ you say while I run my hands over your burning hot, smooth skin. ‘Fuck me.’ But I tease you instead, pushing into you. Just a little bit, just enough for you to know that my cock’s inside you, ready to stab straight in to fill you up.”

My breath hitches and I’m waiting for each new word as it pours out like velvet from between his perfect lips. I squirm in my seat, wanting to touch myself, or even better, wanting him to touch me. To make me feel good, like he did in my bed.

“‘Make me yours,’ you say as I slide in until you’re full of me. Of all I’ve got to give you. Every single pulsing inch. And then I fuck you hard, and there’s not a single thing you can do about it.” He strokes my forearm with his thumb, without letting me go.

My heart’s pounding like a jackhammer. I know we’re supposed to be working, and I know if I don’t resist he’ll know how much power he has over me. Knowing those things doesn’t make me want him any less. Without even thinking, I lean closer, like I’m on autopilot.

Declan smiles as I fall more deeply under his spell. “And then I put my mouth close to your ear and say, ‘Claire... we should be doing our fucking job and not fooling around in my office.’” Suddenly his tone is matter-of-fact, almost annoyed. The moment is broken just like that, leaving him grinning at me cruelly while I’m still trying to catch my breath.

“Wh—What?” It takes a second for my mind to catch up, and when it does, I hate him with every inch of my humiliated soul. I fell, even knowing he was playing me, and he knows it. I sit up straight, but I’m too far gone for dignified. The best I can hope for is righteous indignation. “Screw you, Declan.”

He laughs. “God, you’re easy.”

I swallow, trying to regain at least a shred of pride. “Thank you for reminding me why we’ll never work out. Now, when I go out with Michael on Sunday, I can have a good time without worrying about an ass that isn’t worth my time.”

Did I just use my even bigger ass of an ex to try and make Declan jealous? Why yes I did, and it’s going to take a lot of alcohol and ice cream—not necessarily together—to scrub that from my brain.

“Michael?” He blinks briefly, before he remembers. “Your ex? You’re back together?” He narrows his eyes, watching me for a sign that I’m lying. I shrug. “No way. Think of a better story next time, babe. You’ll be at home in your granny panties reading case files.”

I let a huge grin spread across my face. “Sorry to disappoint, but nope. I’ll be dancing the night away in something sexy at his parents’ 30th wedding anniversary. Michael knew I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

The very best lie has a grain of truth.

Declan leans back into his chair, putting his hands behind his head. “Well good for you. I guess it just goes to show that there is someone for everyone. Even the rats who are willing to nibble up other people’s scraps.”

I can’t tell if I’m the rat in that equation or the scrap. Either way I want to slap that smirk off his face. “At least I have someone who tells me he cares.”

“Words, words, words.” Declan stares me right in the eyes. “From a lawyer to someone who wants to be one, remember this. They don’t mean shit. You know damn well he’ll never be half as good for you as I am.” A flash of annoyance crosses his face. “I mean was.”

The suddenly shuttered look in his eyes tells me I shouldn’t push it. He didn’t mean to say that, but still bitter from his teasing, I can’t help needling him even more.

“Is that a promise? Or a regret?”

His face goes hard and he gets up, walking out of his office and leaving me sitting there feeling like a fool. No matter how hard he shoves me away with one hand, my stomach still flutters when he crooks his little finger with the other.

T
his was a mistake. A really stupid, stupid, stupid mistake. I love Michael’s parents, but coming to this party is the dumbest thing I’ve done since... well, actually pretty much everything involving Declan.

“Are you sure you want more meatballs?” Michael asks as I wave down a waiter and refill my plate. “That skirt looks a little tighter than it used to be.”

I grit my teeth and smile, because it’s that or stab him in the eye with one of my growing collection of hors d'oeuvre picks. “Have you always been this pleasant, or have you been working on it just for me?”

“Give me a break, Claire. I just meant—”

“Save it. I know what you meant.” I turn away and walk over to the pool.

Four months ago I would’ve agonized over a comment like that, wondering if he was falling out of love with me and trying to fix it by changing myself. Tonight, instead of that gnawing doubt that I expect to feel, there’s nothing.

It’s freeing. I take a deep breath and push Michael out of my head.

It’s a gorgeous evening. Cotton candy clouds float above me in a sea of orange and pink as the sun drops lazily over the horizon. The whole sky is reflected in the water and I wish I was here for a different reason so I could enjoy it instead of eating my weight in finger food to avoid saying the wrong thing.

I just want to put in enough time to be polite, and then go home.

His mother smiles and waves from across the pool. I nod and wiggle my fingers in response, feeling like an imposter. He still hasn’t told them I kicked him out, or why. I didn’t really expect he would, but I’d hoped.

I think his parents suspect something is off with us, though. They’re not stupid. When we said hello, Michael had tried to put his arm around my waist, but I kept moving out of the way. Since then I haven’t said more than two words to anyone. If he wasn’t following me around like a lost puppy, I wouldn’t even be near him.

If they don’t see it, they’re blind.

“Mikey!” Some cousin I vaguely remember from his mother’s side claps Michael on the arm and drags him off to talk sports.

Seizing the opportunity, I make a beeline for the punch bowl. I’m at my limit for wine and stuffed full of meatballs, but I desperately need something to drink. It looks like fruit punch, and I take a gulp, coughing in surprise when it burns all the way down, making my eyes water and my stomach turn to liquid fire.

Michael’s Uncle Chester whoops and gives me an enthusiastic thumbs up from across the pool. I guess I know who spiked it. Grinning, I raise my cup, acknowledging his little victory. I’d be annoyed, but girls who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw chili-mayo filled donuts. We’re two of a kind.

My second sip is more cautious, knowing what to expect this time. What the heck, it’s not like tonight can get any more awkward than it already is. Maybe I’ll get wasted and forget the whole evening.

It worked out so well last time after all. Now all I need is a guy like Declan to show up and I’m good to go.

I sigh. Declan. I’ve been doing so well too. It’s been at least twenty, thirty minutes since I last thought about him. Friday I wanted to kill him, tonight I’m one cup of punch away from wondering what he’s doing tonight.
Who
he’s doing tonight.

Because let’s face it, a man-whore like him has probably banged enough girls since we met to start a volleyball team. Come to think of it, he’s probably banged an
actual
volleyball team.

Who could blame them?

When he’s nice, he’s great. Drop dead sexy even. Even when he’s bad, he makes my blood pound in my ears and my heart beat faster. Especially when he’s bad.

I don’t belong here. I knew that as soon as I came, but now Michael’s been gone a while and his parents are busy chatting with their friends and family. Something I’m never going to be.

Maybe I should just leave.

“God this party’s boring. Good food though.” A way too familiar voice sounds next to me as a large figure leans up against the table, making it creak softly. “So which ones are his parents?”

I spin around to find the devil himself looming next to me, pulling pieces of teriyaki chicken off a little wooden spear. For several long moments I have no words. “Declan!” I hiss in a stage whisper. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He shrugs. “I crash parties, I guess. It’s a thing.” He flicks the spear into the bushes and turns to pour himself a glass of punch. “Besides, he gave you trouble last time. Figured you’d want backup.”

“Wait, so you took it upon yourself to follow me to a party you’re not invited to, just so you can pretend to protect me from Michael? Here? Right in front of his parents?” I gawk at him in disbelief. “Are you insane?”

He leans in like he’s going to impart some pearl of ancient wisdom. His voice is a hoarse whisper, pretending to be shocked. “Claire. I think someone’s spiked the punch.” He looks around, like he’s making sure no one’s nearby. “If I knew it was going to be that kind of party, I would’ve come earlier.”

I try to stop it, but instead I just end up snorting out a laugh like a donkey. “It’s for the best. If you and Uncle Chester over there joined forces, the ice sculptures would be on fire by now. You can thank him for the punch.”

He looks around, as if seeing all the possibilities for the first time. “Man, now I really wish I’d come earlier.”

Before I get tempted to join the side of evil, I sigh and pat him on the arm.

“Declan, go home. I’m a big girl. I can handle Michael on my own. You have no reason to be here unless you are just
that
set on tormenting me.” I don’t want to make a scene, so he really needs to leave because our track record on not making scenes is... not good.

As per usual, Declan ignores me. “So, where’s lover boy? I thought you were going to be all up in each other’s junk, but you two seem conspicuously apart.”

“Spying on me?”

“If by spying you mean not wearing a blindfold, sure. You seem to be here, and he seems to be not here. So where’s Junglenuts hanging tonight?”

Punch threatens to snort out my nose. “Somewhere else, I’m sure. Satisfied? Does it make your oversized ego happy to know that I’m hating every minute of this?”

Of course that’s the moment that Michael’s mom chooses to come over to chat, followed by a glowering Michael. He obviously recognizes Declan from their brief but intense introduction. I’m a little surprised. He was pretty drunk at the time.

His mom gives me a tight, warm hug. “That’s the problem with these parties. I really don’t get to spend nearly enough time with the people I really want to spend time with.” She puts her hands on my shoulders and holds me at an arm’s length, looking at me with concerned eyes. “It’s been a long time. Is everything alright?”

I force a smile. This isn’t her fault. “Sure, Marie. You know me, just busy with my new internship. It isn’t giving me much time for anything else. It’s good to see you.”

She raises an eyebrow, and I realize she’s already figured out that Michael and I aren’t an item anymore, but she doesn’t make anything of it. “If you say so, dear.” Her smile is a little sad but at least she doesn’t seem mad at me. Instead she turns to Declan with a puzzled expression. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced, which strikes me as unusual at my own anniversary party.”

He reaches out a hand and smiles warmly. Her cheeks flush slightly. Nobody’s immune to him when he decides to be charming. He can crank it to eleven when he wants to.

“Declan Riordan, Claire’s new stepbrother. Well, I will be in a couple of weeks, anyway.”

Michael sucks in a shocked breath, which is unfortunate because he ends up with a pig in a blanket hurtling down the wrong chute.

“Here.” Declan steps up behind him and slams his broad hand into Michael’s back so hard he almost knocks him over. One more, and Michael coughs up a couple half-chewed pieces that land in the rose bushes. I’ll admit it. I almost laugh.

Trying to keep a straight face, I turn to Marie. “I’m sorry, I told him where I was going earlier, but I must have made it sound like he was invited. It’s my fault.”

“Nonsense.” She smiles. “Any relative of yours is welcome at our house. Anytime.” She wouldn’t be saying that if she knew what he’s really like. “Anyway, the evening’s altogether too short, and we invited far too many guests. I have to keep moving, but it was good to see you. Maybe we can get together, just you and me, one of these days, so we have more time.”