Mockingbird (A Stepbrother Romance #2)(33)

"Because I don't want to be a museum whatever. I want to do something different. Besides, her life sucks. Why would I want to emulate it?"

"It can't suck that bad. She's got you."

I snort.

"Very smooth." I sigh. "We used to be closer but she's just seemed so bitter and controlling ever since I started high school, really. Lucas has been on me since I was a freshman. First year, it was grade school shit, and then he turned all the girls against me. There's these cliques…"

"Clicks?"

"Cliques. With a Q. Anyway Lucas has all the popular girls wrapped around his little finger. I don't even matter to him. It’s not me he wants, it's the girl that's always turning him down. It could be anybody. Mom doesn't see that. He's good at showing a different side to people when he wants to. I think he's a sociopath."

"Huh," Apollo says, a hint of a nervous tone in his voice. "Well, that's all over now, right? No more high school shit."

"I hope so. You can't imagine how disappointed I'll be if I start school in the fall and it's High School, Part II."

He snorts. "I guess so. Hey, look, house."

There it is.

"What are you doing today?"

"Me? Being a man about town, I guess. I had nothing planned."

"Why don't we…" I trail off.

Why don't we what? I can think of a few things. I have a hard time not thinking of those few things, point of fact, especially when I look at him. I almost have to grip the sides of my pockets to keep from touching him.

"I'm not sure. Diana, my father…"

"Had a talk with you about me, yeah, I know. Look, I know it makes it weird if our parents are… involved."

"Makes what weird?"

"Come inside. I need to take a shower."

"Uh, is that an invitation?"

"You're staying in the kitchen."

"Oh."

He deposits himself in the living room instead, and turns on the television while I head upstairs, my heart pounding. I could invite him to take a shower with me. I think I'd rather enjoy that.

Slow down, Diana. You met this guy what, three days ago? You hardly know anything about him and…

He's incredible. Call me what you will, that little show with Lucas got my motor going. He's so primal. I wonder if he's down there picturing me up here naked in the bathroom. I hang my robe on the hook and stuff my sweaty clothes in the hamper, and get under the water. It soaks hot into my hair and smooths it down my back, and the water flows between my legs. My eyes flutter open a little, then closed again as I think about Apollo moving the way he did, so lithe and graceful, almost like a dancer. There's a lot of power in his body.

I lean back against the wall and slide my hands between my legs. The wetness I find there isn't from the shower at all. I close my eyes and stifle a little sound as I begin to slide my fingers along my lower lips, the stimulation sending shivers down my legs that make my knees buckle. I sink to the bottom of the shower, sitting in the spray, and hug myself thinking about when I was in his lap, feeling his hard-on pressed into me, the way his hands pressed lightly into my skin and his taste filled my mouth as I kissed him and lunged on top of him. My legs trap my hand and I start circling my clit with my finger, shuddering when the sensation is almost too intense, but I feel a sudden desperation for release.

It doesn't take long. It's like just thinking about him drives me higher and higher, until I have to press the back of my hand against my mouth and stifle the sounds as I drive myself to further heights of pleasure. Part of me wants him to burst through the door, strip, and get in here with me. My toes curl as the peak hits and I curl up into a ball, whimpering, almost biting my hand. As it fades my legs stretch out until my feet hit the other side of the tub, and the water just pours over me.

That wasn't good enough.

I stand up, leaning on the wall for balance. I feel more winded now than I did before, and no less excited. I lean on the wall under the shower, rest my head against it, and just let it pour over me. Then I turn it up, until the room fills up with steam, and let it scour down my back. I don't know what I want my life to be anymore. I don't know what Apollo is doing in my house. I don't understand anything that's happening to me. When I finally turn it off I'm so used to the heat my teeth start chattering and I start shivering as I towel off, wrap up in my robe, and open the door.

It would be nice if Apollo was waiting outside to grab me, but he's not. I pad barefoot and dripping over to my bedroom, close the door, and listen to the soft sounds of the television from below. After I put on a long t-shirt and a pair of threadbare shorts, I walk slowly down the stairs, my hair still wrapped up in a towel. He's sitting on the couch, and he has his feet up on the coffee table. Mom would be furious.

"Hey."

"Hey," he glances over his shoulder, and the look is heavier than an outright stare from someone else.

I'm doing the lip bite thing again.

"Want something to eat?"

"Nah. I'm thirsty, though."

I grab a couple of sodas from the fridge and hand him one as I sit down. I"m not sure what to do. Do I scoot closer, so we're touching? What am I even trying to accomplish here? His fingers brush mine and the cold of the can makes them feel warmer as I pass it off to him. I look over and realize he hasn't been paying attention to the show playing on the television since I walked in the room, any more than I have.