Sweet Billionaire Stepbrother(23)

Matthews found his balls. His voice was desperate as he pleaded with Layla. “Things changed as I got to know you better. And tonight . . . you genuinely took my breath away. I want this because I want you. You’ve got to believe me, Layla.”

His words were like a poison arrow to my heart. I wanted to smash his f*cking face, grab Layla and get the f*ck out of there.

But it was out of my hands. If Layla still wanted Matthews—

Jesus, I can’t bear the thought. The image of Matthew’s dick inside of her was eating me alive. Pretending I was cool with whoever she chose to sleep with was the biggest lie I’d ever told myself. Truth was I didn’t want another cock within a ten mile radius of Layla. Except mine.

Holy hell. I was turning into a deviant. Could my thoughts be any more depraved? I wanted my stepsister like I’d never wanted another woman. I’d burn in hell for a long time for even thinking these dirty thoughts.

The person I had to protect Layla from was me.

I turned on my heels and got the f*ck out of there. I didn’t, no couldn’t, look back even as I heard Layla gasp.

Knowing what I had to do, I went back to my date who was probably wondering what the hell happened to me. I’d lavish all my attention on Sloane and hope these devilish thoughts would erase themselves from my mind.

A cold chill ran through me.

How did this happen? How did I allow it to become so f*cked up?





18: Grayson


Back at the party Sloane gave me the sad puppy look while I ordered a double scotch on the rocks. I knocked it back in one hit and ordered another. I sipped the second drink slower so it didn’t burn my throat nearly as much as the first, but it gave me enough liquid courage to get my shit together.

Sloane pouted her lips and sulked for a few minutes longer until I asked her to dance. Her face immediately brightened up as I lead her to the dance floor. Guilt overwhelmed me for neglecting her. She was a beautiful woman and I should have been showering her with attention like she deserved. She sighed contently as I pulled her closer, her arms automatically circling my neck. She was perfect in every way.

But she wasn’t Layla.

My insides were in knots over what was happening in the carpark. All the scotch, self-talk and rationalizing in the world couldn’t convince me that leaving Layla with Matthews was the right thing to do. But the way she had looked at him when she took his hand in hers nearly ripped me apart. Was Layla in love with Seth? Had I ruined her night?

If Layla wanted Matthews there really wasn’t anything I could do about it. As long as the f*cker was honest with her about his intentions and she knew the truth, there wasn’t much more I could do without looking like a fool.

Letting out a long slow breath, I closed my eyes and enjoyed the buzz the alcohol had caused to run through my body. I imagined Layla in my arms, recalling our first slow dance, and I re-enacted it with Sloane. I danced with my date, I smiled at her, but in my mind I was somewhere else completely.

This is f*cked up.

I needed to get Layla out of my head. Taking a deep breath, I leaned in and kissed Sloane softly on the lips. She moaned into my mouth and kissed me back. Her arms tightened around my neck, pulling me closer. Damn, she was so into this and all I felt was the thrill of a wet blanket.

If only Sloane made me feel the way Layla did, everything would be perfect. Feeling like a complete tool, I had to end the night or I’d lose my mind.

“I’m ready to go to bed,” I said as the song ended.

Sloane’s cheeks flushed red and lust filled her eyes. Fuck, she misinterpreted what I meant. I rephrased quickly. “Are you ready for me to drop you off at home?”

Confusion flickered over her face.

“I’m really tired and I have a big day tomorrow. Is it okay if we leave a little earlier?”

She nodded but I could see she wasn’t happy with the way things were going but I just couldn’t deal with it. My mind stubbornly stayed focused on Layla and Matthews and the thoughts of what they were doing tortured me to exhaustion.

Against my better judgement, I’d had more to drink than I should have, so I called a taxi.

We drove to her place in silence. As if the cab driver sensed something was wrong, he didn’t make small talk either. It was the complete opposite of when I’d picked her up earlier. I was grateful for the quiet, although I knew it usually meant my date was pissed off.

I told the driver to wait for me while I opened the car door and helped Sloane out. I led her to the front door and watched as she inserted the key and turned to unlock it. Her back was stiff and she wasn’t smiling or flirty like she’d been earlier.

Feeling like a jerk, I took her hand in mine. “Thank you for a lovely evening. You are a beautiful woman, Sloane.”

She looked up at me and smiled. “Just not the one for you, huh?”

Stunned into momentary silence by her accurate assessment, my mouth twisted into a wry smile.

“That obvious, huh?”

“You’re just not that in to me.” She laughed, trying to make light of it. “Do you mind me asking . . . is there someone else, Grayson?”

How to reply? Honesty was usually the best way to go. Besides, I was half drunk and thinking up anything else was more like hard work.

“I honestly don’t know the answer to that question. Maybe it was just the whole ball scenario. It’s not you, Sloane. You are lovely and any man would be a fool not to like you. To prove it, I’d love to take you to dinner sometime this week if you’re free?”