Take (Need #2)(30)

“Stop acting like a little spoiled-ass punk kid. Grow the hell up. You’re twenty-one now, and that means only two more years of tuition from me before you have to pay for it yourself.”

He pushes off me and heads back to his car.

“Fine by me.”

“One last thing.” He opens the door again and points a finger at me. “If you want to stay in this house, make sure you keep your f*cking dick away from your sister.” He slips into the car, slamming the door, then revs the engine as he backs out.

My nostrils flare with each harsh breath, nails digging into my palms. The pain is the only thing that kept me from hitting him, from getting out all of my anger and frustration. Blood thumps through my veins as I stand there, waiting to calm down before I tear through the house and do the exact opposite of his words.

An anger f*ck will not win me any points with Kira, especially for our first time.

Instead I stare down at the concrete beneath my feet, anger boiling off me as I attempt to blow the driveway up with my mind.

When it doesn’t work, and I give in to the fact that I do not have superpowers, I head inside. Once in the shade of the garage, I notice Sonia’s SUV parked there. Another oddity for a Wednesday afternoon.

The thought that maybe they were having a little afternoon delight flies right out of my head when I walk into the kitchen from the garage.

Sonia stands at the kitchen island, shoulders shaking. She gasps at the sound of the door shutting and turns to me, her fingers quickly wiping the tears from her cheeks.

“Brayden, you’re back.” She gives me her best attempt at a smile. “Any luck?”

I nod, my hands twitching at my sides to offer her some comfort, but not knowing how. The hurt on her face makes me feel bad for my stepmom for the first time. Sonia didn’t know what she was getting into when she started sleeping with my father. I’ve been pissed at her for years, but the sad expression she’s been wearing the last few weeks is melting my anger because it reminds me so much of what my mom went through.

That fault lies with my father, not her. I see that now. Vulnerable and lonely, she was easy prey. And I know the only damn reason he married her was to have the perks of a wife again.

“Yeah, I’ll be just a few buildings down from Ryan and Dana.”

Her fake smile reaches her eyes as it turns into a real one. “That’s great. I’m happy you’ll be close.” Her gaze flickers to the clock on the wall. “I need to be getting back to work.”

“Home for lunch?”

She picks her purse up from the counter, along with the keys laying next to it. “I somehow forgot my phone this morning, so your father and I met for lunch.”

I step aside, opening up the path to the door.

“Dinner will be a little late tonight.”

I give her an honest smile. “Don’t worry about it. I know how to feed myself.” I did it for years before he married you.

She reaches out and squeezes my arm. “Thank you.”

After she leaves, I stay in the middle of the kitchen, listening to the sounds of the house, thinking. Lost in thought, lost in memories, lost in dreams. There’s a duality going on, deja vu like energy buzzing through me.

The click of a door, followed by the sound of water rushing through the pipes in one of the walls, reminds me I’m not alone.

She’s here. Upstairs.

I move without thought to the entry and look up the stairs, listening.

Music blares, but isn’t enough to cover the beating of water raining down in the hall bathroom or the unmistakable clatter of rings sliding across the shower curtain rod.

Three seconds later, my dick is hard and leading the way up the stairs. The door is open a crack, the music radiating from her room.

Kira’s naked.

Kira’s naked a few steps away.

A ripple ignites my body as it moves through. I reach down and adjust my hardening cock as I step into my room.

There’s no stopping where my mind has gone and where it’s taking me. I pull my shirt up as I toe my shoes off, then pull my shorts and boxer-briefs down, taking my socks with them.

Completely naked with my cock bouncing, I walk over to the bathroom door.

Wet heat, saturated with a sweet, succulent scent of my girl and whatever shit she uses, pours out of the gap she’s left. I place my hand on the door and slowly push it open enough for me to slip in, then push it back.

She’s singing along with the music, a Maroon 5 song. The combination of sounds is so loud, she doesn’t even hear me.

I grab onto my cock, stroking it a few times to calm the f*cking raging need for the friction of her *.

Was I pissed off? Doing some deep thinking a few minutes ago? I don’t even remember, because my dick rules with a f*cking iron fist. The directive is simple, one objective.

Come.

And then f*cking come again.

All over and inside my girl.

I bite my lip, holding back a moan as I squeeze down on my cock.

The song ends and I hold my breath, listening to the water hit her body, hoping she doesn’t hear me. After all, there are some markings on my body I’m not ready for her to see. The most recent is still healing, and I have nothing to hide them.

The next song is hard and sexy, and I can’t stop my hips rocking my cock in and out of my fist. Being this close to her naked body is too much for my poor dick. It needs, begs for, skin on skin.