Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 36643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
“Oh,” she mutters, drawing my eyes back to her lip that she chews on thoughtfully. “I guess I can change before we go. Come on, let’s see if we can get the living room tree decorated first.”
I’m unsure why I feel so jittery around her. Seeing the barely-there pink sweater and her tiny bellybutton has my brain resetting, unable to compute properly. Clearly I’ve gone too long without getting laid because I’m getting a semi over my stepsister right now.
Wouldn’t be the first time…
I try to ignore that thought as she gestures toward a box with faux popcorn garland. Of course, the popcorn only solidifies a certain memory in my brain. The two of us watching a movie late at night. She’d stretched her legs across my lap to get comfortable. I made the mistake of touching her skin, shocked at how smooth and hairless her legs were. When I ran my palm up to her knee and back down again, she giggled because it tickled, and my dick got hard.
The first time.
I clear my throat, forcing myself to focus on the decorations. Remembering times when I’d fought attraction toward my stepsister won’t help the state of my dick in this moment. Luckily, she’s too preoccupied with what she’s doing to notice the slight bulge in my jeans.
“Dating anyone?” I ask, hoping to make small talk. Maybe if I can imagine her with another man, my brain will climb out of the gutter.
“No,” she grumbles. “The last guy I was interested in turned out to be a douchebag gym rat. I’m pretty sure he just wanted to get laid. And you know how I am.”
Clara is a relationship girl. Unfortunately, every guy she’s dated treats her like a sex object. They see her stunning outward appearance and forget there’s a bleeding heart behind those bouncy tits.
Fuck.
Stop thinking about this shit.
“I’m sure the right guy will come along,” I tell her with a forced smile. “Maybe you’ll meet him at the Christmas Extravaganza.”
She turns to pin me with a sad stare. “I thought I already met him.”
My heart thunders in my chest and my dick thickens more. Is she talking about me? Surely the fuck not. But, with the way she’s looking at me, maybe she is. Is she hinting? Do I want that?
I’m so confused and shamefully aroused I nearly miss her next words.
“But he’s with Savvy now.”
Who the fuck is Savvy?
“What?” I choke out, holding a gold, rather large bulb ornament in front of my unruly cock.
She gestures toward the kitchen. “Travis. I was so obsessed with him. We hooked up.” A frown tugs at her glossy lips. “I wanted more and he wanted to get the hell away from me.” Her eyebrows crash together and she regards me with a confused expression. “What is it about me that scared him away?”
Is she insane right now?
“He sounds like a fucking idiot,” I growl, unable to stop myself. “You’re an eleven and he was probably a six. Sixes have to get with sixes or less. They can’t handle an eleven.”
“I mean, he’s hot, but maybe you’re right.” She grins at me. “There’s a Hallmark, hometown, handsome hero waiting at the event for me. I’m getting love for Christmas this year.”
She loves those stupid movies. I think they’re lame and unrealistic. What successful woman leaves her big-time job in the city to come back to the reliable guy from her past only to open a bakery with him and pop out a bunch of babies? I certainly don’t know any women like that in real life. This fictional guy is just that. Not real. But, she’s happier not thinking about Travis, so I go with the lie we’re weaving.
“I do need to call him, though,” Clara says, abandoning her decorating to hunt down her phone.
“What? Why? We’re about to go find the love of your life.”
She cracks up laughing. “I’m not going to beg him to fuck me, Eric. He’s an electrician. I’m going to see if he can fix my animatronic snowman.”
“I can fix it,” I blurt out, knowing good and damn well I don’t know how to do that shit. But, the thought of her inviting over some guy she used to fuck while looking too good for public is enough for me to go with my own lies. “You can YouTube anything these days.”
Her eyes brighten. “If you can fix it, you’ll be me hero.”
The same hero she falls in love with?
For fuck’s sake, man. Get it together.
“I thought I already was your hero,” I tease. “I made you breakfast.”
“You’ve always been my favorite guy.” Her smile falls and she picks back up an ornament. “It’s why it hurt so bad when you ghosted me.”
Regret and pain lance at my heart. I’d been so driven to succeed, doing everything in my power to do just that. As long as I stayed busy and focused on my goals, I could forget about all that I left behind. And whenever the guilt would threaten to consume me, I’d dig deeper and go harder. Success was the bandage to that painful wound I’d created.