Stepbrother Untouchable (4 page)

CHAPTER SIX

I push the sautéed chicken around my plate as I try not to
watch Nate drape his arm around the back of Dana's chair. She's pretty. Very
pretty. And sweet. I wish she weren't so sweet so I could hate her for a good
reason.

“So how long did you two date?” my mom asks.

“Well, it was on and off, so…hard to say. He actually went
to prom with one of my friends,” she replies, jokingly nudging Nate, who at
least has the grace to blush.

“Nate…” his dad says, shaking his head admonishingly.

“Oh, it's OK. I went with one of his friends,” Dana says
with a smile. “I think we both knew it wasn't meant to be.”

“A couple of my friends met their husbands in high school,”
my mom says, resting her fork on her plate. “Though I read an article recently
that said that twenty-eight percent of women meet their husbands in college.”
She looks pointedly at me and I jump up.

“I'll clear,” I announce. I have a feeling I know where this
conversation is headed and I want to avoid it.

“Oh, thank you, Brynn,” Pierce says, as I stack the plates
on top of one another.

“No problem,” I reply. “I waited tables in high school.”

“Same,” Nate says, as I reach in front of him to take his
plate.

“You did not,” I retort, before I can think. He looks up at
me and raises his eyebrows, his gaze unreadable beneath them.

Pierce laughs. “It's true.”

“My dad says working is the only way to build character,”
Nate reports quietly.

“Oh,” I say, blushing as I push my way through the swinging
door into the kitchen. I place the china carefully next to the sink and lean
onto the counter. God, I feel like I can't say anything right around Nate. My mind
freezes up while my body is set on fire.

“So, are you dating anyone at school, Brynn?” Pierce asks.
Damn him.

“Not right now,” I reply, sitting back down.

“Who were you dating? Maybe I know him,” Nate says, his dark
eyes picking up the candlelight in the table's elaborate centerpiece. My mom
spent all afternoon on it.

“Probably not,” I say evasively, pasting a polite smile on
my face. He really knows how to get under my skin. The truth is, I've never
really dated anyone, much as my mom pushes me, and as much as I'm embarrassed
by the fact. “Who wants dessert?”

I manage to sidestep any more questioning by bringing out
the last course, though now I'm starting to think about the fact that Nate and
Dana are probably going to want to go off somewhere after this and have sex. I
hope it's not in Nate's room. What if I can hear them through the wall?

My mom insists on clearing the dessert plates, and Nate and
Dana stand up. Pierce and Nate start talking quietly, and Dana comes over to
me.

“You are so gorgeous.” She offers. “I have to ask: what do
you use on your skin?”

“I—what? Um, soap?” Oh man, she really makes it difficult to
hate her.

“Soap? Just…soap? Oh my god, I have this whole routine,” she
says, laughing at herself.

“Well, thanks. I guess I'll be seeing you around often?” I
ask, but she looks surprised. “Because you and Nate are dating.”

“We're not really dating,” she confides to me. “He's not the
type, and I gave up hope years ago. But just look at him—can you blame me for
coming back?” she says with a grin, then her eyes widen. “Oh my gosh—sorry! I
forgot for a second that he's your brother!”

“
Step
-brother,” I correct her. “Well, I'm gonna head
upstairs. It was really nice to meet you, Dana.”

“You, too,” she replies, stepping away to join Pierce and Nate's
conversation. I head into the foyer but at the last second decide not to go
upstairs. I need some air. I find myself heading down the hallway and to the
French doors in the wood-paneled study. They open onto the patio and I step
outside with relief, closing the door behind me.

The firm breeze from the river calls me forward and I head
down toward it. I circle around the swimming pool on the first level of the
backyard, and then down to a grassy lawn with a lacrosse goal set up on one
end. The wooden stairs down to the rocky beach are set on the right side, and
it takes me a minute to find them in the dark.

As I head down the steps, I see the Potomac spread out in
front of me. The water rushes hungrily by, lit only by the sparsely set houses
on the cliffs surrounding it. As I step onto the shore, I can feel the rocks
pressing up through my sandals, and boulders casting long, dark shadows on
either side of me. This is no white-sand beach. The river runs dangerously fast
after rains, and there are even white-water rapids along parts of it.

I look back at the steps behind me and then back out at the
river. I feel so out of place here. Even though our old house didn't really
feel like home either, I wish I were there now, stretched out on the ratty old
couch, with my mom in her chair, watching something on our small TV. I don't
know if I'll ever be able to feel like I belong here. I'll always feel like a
guest in Pierce’s house.

I walk down closer to the water until I can feel the pebbles
getting smaller underneath my feet. I don't want my shoes to get wet. I jump as
a bird breaks out of a tree above me. I can just see it as it flies off, its
body a moving ink blot against the dark sky.

I wish I could follow it.

I turn and walk back toward the steps, feeling as lonely as
I've ever felt. I shake my head at myself as I climb the wooden stairs. My mom
is happy, and I'm fortunate to live in a place like this.
Stop feeling sorry
for yourself, Brynn.

As I walk across the lower lawn, I look up and see my mom
and Pierce's bedroom light go off. I guess they're turning in early tonight. I
walk up toward the pool and freeze as I hear a moan. The lights downstairs are
all off except one in the hall, and the pool's lights underneath the water. My
eyes dart around and fall on two writhing bodies on a poolside lounge chair.
Nate and Dana.

I stare as Nate whips off his own shirt and then Dana's. I
know I should move but I don't. The blue pool lights shimmer against his back
muscles as he expertly undoes Dana's bra and pulls off her pants and underwear.

Leave, you pervert!
My brain commands me, but my body
stays firmly glued in place, even as it throbs with desire. One of Nate's hands
massages Dana's ample breasts, and the other disappears beneath her. Dana cries
out immediately and I almost gasp myself, as though his hands are moving
against me. I can practically feel his touch on me, his hot breath against my
ear as his expert fingers move inside me…

Nate grunts and pushes against her. She struggles to contain
herself as he thrusts slowly in and out of her.
Oh my god—what am I doing!?
I
step back with a jolt as though I'm breaking out of a trance and almost trip
over the hydrangea bush next to me in my hurry to get away. I run as quickly
and quietly as I can around the side of the house and to the front. I reach the
front door and pray that Nate is going to lock up later. I feel the doorknob
turn and push the door open in relief. I hurry up the curving staircase and
down the hall into my room, kicking off my sandals before hurling myself onto
my bed and burying my head in the pillows.

I can feel my cheeks burning with mortification over what I
just witnessed and the uncontrollable desire I felt. I've had crushes before,
but none like my obsession with Nate. And even after finally meeting him, only
to have him tease me and push my buttons, I still feel so physically drawn to
him.

I pull my face out of the pillow and crawl to the
nightstand, pulling my dog-eared copy of
Lady Chatterley's Lover
out of
the top drawer. Just as I'm opening it to the folded-over page, there's a quiet
knock at my door. I toss my book on the bed and walk to it, hoping and praying
it’s not Nate.

I almost jump as I pull open the door and Nate's face
appears, shrouded in the darkness of the hallway. He leans forward, leaning his
forearm on the doorjamb as I step back nervously. His wavy hair looks
particularly unruly, and his lips are curved in a slight smile.

“Technically speaking, does a Peeping Tom have to be
outside, looking inside? Or does the term still apply if both, or all three,
parties are outdoors?” he asks, calmly, tilting his chin up slightly as he
considers me.

“I…I don't…” I stammer, feeling heat crawl up the back of my
neck.

“You. Were. Watching us,” he accuses me, narrowing his eyes.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I just…I was down at the
river…how did you…?”

“I heard a twig snap and saw you running away like a drunken
ostrich.”

“Did Dana—?”

“No, and I didn't tell her.”

“Thank god.”

“So? What did you think?” He smirks.

“Oh, I'm so sorry, again. I'm so embarrassed,” I rush on. It
strikes me that this is the longest conversation I've ever had with my new
stepbrother. And it's about how I'm a pervert. Fantastic.

“
Why
were you watching us?” he asks, stepping forward
into my room. I take another step away from him.

“Um, I…I don't know. It just sort of happened. I didn't mean
to.”

“Liar,” he comments lightly.

“Asshole.” It slips out before I can stop myself.

He tilts his head slightly. “Prude,” he levels at me. I look
down. Maybe I am a prude, but I don't want to be. “What's that?” he asks. When
I look back up at him, I see him gazing past me, to my book on the bed.

“Nothing, just a book,” I say, but he's breezing past me
toward it. I hurry after him but he reaches the bed before me and picks up the
book. “See?” I say defiantly.

“I know what
Lady Chatterley's Lover
is about,” he
says, looking at me with a smug grin. Shit. “Maybe not such a prude after all,”
he adds, running his eyes up and down my body. I swallow hard. “You know what I
think?” he asks, stepping toward me. I step away again, feeling one of the
posts of my bed against my back. “I think you want me. I think you can barely
contain yourself.”

“That's mighty arrogant of you,” I comment. I begin to tug
the ends of my hair nervously.

“Why are you doing that?” He asks, frowning.

“It's just a nervous habit,” I say with a shrug, and drop my
hand.

“So I make you nervous?”

“No,” I reply quickly. “Just you being in here…”

“I'm only arrogant if I'm wrong.”

“Wrong about what?” I feel the urge to pull my hair again
but don't want to give him the satisfaction.

“Wrong about you wanting me. Let's give it a test—” he
narrows his eyebrows, studying me. “I'm going to kiss you now, and all you have
to do is tell me to stop.”

“What? That's crazy. Not to mention you just fucked Dana,
and now you expect me to kiss you?” I protest, but he steps toward me. I try to
pull backward but I'm already pressed against my bedpost. Desire unfurls deep
in my stomach as his eyes lock onto mine.

“If it's crazy, just tell me to stop,” he whispers
teasingly, and moves closer. His musky scent fills my nose and my mind begins
to swim. I feel wetness trickling down my thigh as he curls his arms around me,
grasping the bedpost with both hands behind my lower back. He's so close to me.
I can feel heat radiating off him. His legs and chest sink against me and he
moves his lips toward mine. Just a few inches between Nate Thornhill's mouth
and mine. Now an inch. Now two centimeters…I can feel his warm breath against
my partially open lips…

“Stop.” I whisper.

He freezes but doesn't pull away, as though he can't believe
what he's just heard. Though truthfully, I'm marveling at my own restraint. I
can feel his erection against my thigh—I know he wants me, too. Now I can beat
him at his own game. I lean forward slightly, allowing my lips to brush against
his as I speak, “Unless
you
don't want to.”

His eyes, which were focused on my lips, flick back up to
meet mine. I force myself to stay steady even as I'm consumed by the lust in
his gaze. He stares at me for a moment, then pushes off the bedpost and steps
back. He opens his mouth, about to say something, but nothing comes out. I
remain pressed against the bedpost as he turns and moves toward the door.
Without looking back, he shuts it behind him.

I stumble forward and take a deep breath. It's like he takes
all the air out of the room and I can't breathe when he's around.

I can't believe I just rejected him. I'm stunned, but I also
feel like giving myself a standing ovation. I just resisted the advances of
Nate Thornhill, my fantasy of almost three years. I should win a willpower
award. I knew that if I’d let him kiss me, I would forever lose any kind of
power in our relationship. I'd be just be another pathetic girl who fell for
his charms.

Of course, the downside is that I'm more turned on than I've
ever been in my life, and I'm alone with a book again. I sigh and crawl back
onto my bed. I have a feeling that whatever is happening between me and my
stepbrother, I haven't seen the end of it yet.