The Perfect Wrong, page 27
I won’t go through with it, though.
He sounds like a nice guy. Totally not the kind of dude who deserves a black eye or broken nose from Chris going full jealous Neanderthal.
The Fourth of July creeps closer quietly.
We barely tear ourselves off each other to drive up to a lookout point high above the city to enjoy the fireworks.
Brilliant pops of color hang above the city, smearing their light across the Golden Gate Bridge and the waters below.
I’m in the bed of his truck, cuddled against Chris, my mind spinning with future possibilities as we take in the show.
“You getting any big ideas?” he asks, the light from another brilliant shower of sparks gleaming in his eyes. “Bet you could take a night like this and paint something beautiful.”
“I don’t know. My stuff is more dreamy and moody. Not too realistic,” I say shyly.
“You paint what you feel,” he says matter-of-factly.
Am I that obvious?
Does he just read me that well?
Wow. Even when we’re here, fully dressed and having a sweet moment, he manages to make me feel completely naked.
But I can’t help but smile at the gentle admiration in his eyes.
God, he really loves me.
That’s as insane as it is wonderful.
I’m almost afraid how hard and how fast I’m falling for him, deeper than I ever knew was possible.
“See? You don’t even deny it, princess,” he whispers, raising my chin softly with his fingers until I meet his eyes. “I know you. And you know you never have to hide that heart from me.”
I push my face to his chest, speechless and a little choked up.
Because what he’s saying is too true.
With him, I’m safe.
I’m seen.
I’m not just an afterthought in Dad’s busy life or the broken, sad girl who’s rich enough for classy friends, but not the girl they ever connect with.
“Are you really leaving soon?” I ask, trying like hell to hide the tears welling in my eyes. His cryptic hints about some upcoming mission have had me scared for weeks. “I’m scared for you, Chris.”
We both know what I mean by leaving.
“Don’t be. I’ve been sent off on snipe hunts worse than this and always come back in one piece. It’s what I do,” he growls, pressing his forehead to mine.
But for just the faintest second, he hesitates.
It’s like I can smell something new mingled with his delicious, manly scent.
Fear?
That’s what truly ices my veins. If this man has even the slightest doubts about coming home, how can I possibly believe he’ll return to me in one piece?
How can I trust that I’m meant to be this lucky? That we’ll actually have a future?
But I don’t dare say these things out loud.
Tonight, I’m too dazzled by the rockets bursting in the sky and starlit green eyes that hold more secrets than the endless dark ocean stretching as far as we can see.
I reach for his big hands and squeeze until my fingers go numb.
“I can’t lose you,” I whisper. “If I paint what I feel...I’d never paint anything again.”
“Won’t happen, babe,” he promises, assuring me with a kiss so hot it curls my toes. “If I don’t come home, permission granted for you to find me and kill me again.”
I giggle, pushing at his chest. “That doesn’t even make sense!”
“Yeah. Neither does thinking I’d ever fucking leave you, baby. Even unwillingly, I’ll still come back and haunt your ass. Remember that movie Ghost?”
I shake my head fiercely, smiling at how crazy he is.
“That scene with the pottery or whatever? That’s me with your paints. Except I’d never leave, and I’d use my spooky powers to tie you down and paint every damn inch of you.”
“It’s official,” I say.
“What?”
“You are crazy. Do you hear yourself, Chris?”
He blinks slowly and gives me this huge boyish grin. “I do. And you’re gonna have me committed before you’re done hearing all the ways I come up with to tell you I fucking love you, babe.”
Oh, God.
Why is he this good at demolishing my heart?
I’m still wondering as he cups my face, tilts it to his, and drinks me in so long and deep with his tongue.
Those fireworks start resembling stars as they pepper the sky with their grand finale.
* * *
One hot day in late July, Chris takes me out after I come in from the pool that evening.
He’s strategically waiting in my shower, naked and huge and glorious.
We take our sweet time getting ready together, a drawn-out daytime quickie with so many kisses and soft touches in the wake of his storm.
Every day we’re together just pulls me deeper into his gravity.
Also, I have to hand it to him, he knows some lovely little places, hidden gems just outside the city.
They aren’t the usual boujee eateries trying to be a hypermodern fusion of four different cuisines—nothing like the high-end watering holes I’m used to—but they’re quaint and real.
Even the patrons look livelier than the younger rich crowd I’m usually with. Almost like they’re actually listening to each other and laughing at real jokes rather than eye-fucking their next fling for the night.
Marnie replies to the text I sent her earlier, and she shows up a little while after we’re seated with her latest boy toy.
I honestly can’t tell if he’s the same big, tanned bodybuilder from the beach or someone new.
Marnie’s men are always tall, broasted, and basic as rocks.
“So did you get that jackoff professor off your ass yet, girl?” She flashes me a perfect white smile. I watch big boy glance down at the thong she’s probably got sticking out behind her for emphasis.
Ass is right.
Not that I like to judge.
Chris listens in politely, keeping one hand on my thigh under the table. He’s dangerously close to signaling to my best friend that I’m not just being lame and hanging out with my stepbrother because I can’t find a real date.
“It’s moving,” I say with a sigh. “Finally got my thesis done and the outline mapped out. Now I’m past the intro and drafting the real meat of the thing.”
“Yeah?” Marnie’s eyebrows shoot up. “Damn! Way to get a jump start. You keep that up, and you’ll be coasting to graduation.”
“Ugh, I wish.” I try not to shudder. “I’m sure this is draft one of a dozen or more.”
“C’mon, if you’re putting in a ton of work, I know it slaps. What are you gonna call it?” she asks, sipping some neon-pink liquid from a glass so bright it looks like it should have a hazmat sign on it.
“Fear Itself: The Life of a Modern Mercenary,” I say, wincing a little because I’m afraid it sounds way too pretentious.
But Marnie claps her hands. Even the big man next to her gives me an approving grin.
“I love it!” she shouts.
“You don’t think it’s too—”
“Delia, shut it. It’s pompous and flashy—the right kind of snotty academic-speak the guy grading you will probably have wet dreams about. Hey, Erik, why don’t you go over to the bar and grab us another round? I don’t want to wait for the waitress,” Marnie says with a pout.
She passes the boy toy her empty glass, smiling like a shark.
He gets up with a shrug and gladly does as he’s told.
Oof.
I’m not sure if it’s just Marnie’s overbearing style, or if she gets some weird thrill out of bringing these men to their knees.
“So how does it feel to be my girl’s muse?” She turns to Chris. “I know you’ve been helping with the paper, mostly, but has she like painted you naked yet?” Marnie bats her eyes, leaning forward with her hands folded under her chin.
Holy crap, I could kill her.
I hold in a gasp.
The worst part is she’s not done when she says, “And do you ever get a day off from the whole ripped Leonidas act? A smile wouldn’t hurt—or does it just feel that good stomping around scaring people?”
“Marnie!” I hiss, kicking her under the table.
I had a feeling we’d be dealing with her warped humor, but she’s coming in swinging today.
I’m not happy about the way she keeps eyeballing Chris, either. Almost like he’s her next course on the menu.
But I can’t up and tell her he’s taken...can I?
With Marnie’s mouth, I’ll never live it down on campus. I’ll be doomed, forever that girl who’s hooking up with her stepbrother.
Chris takes a long pull off his dark beer before he answers. “About as hard as it is for you to take a day off from eye-fucking other guys while your boyfriend’s right next to you.”
And served.
I try not to laugh as her face screws up and she coughs awkwardly.
It might be the first time I’ve ever seen Marnie Rowdy put in her place.
“Well, you’ve got a pair the size of grapefruits, huh?” she asks, toying with the straw in her drink. “I like it. Delia’s hella lucky—to have you as her step, I mean. She told me Vegas must’ve brought her some luck, and now I see why.”
Marnie’s eyes sharpen, casting a glance like she knows more than she should.
She knows exactly who my mystery man is.
And she isn’t just talking about the money we pulled down on that trip...
Eep.
Clearing my throat, I suck down half my margarita and try to deflect. Where the hell is her beach boy and that drink order, anyway?
“What can I say? I take care of the women in my life,” he says, but he barely glances at Marnie.
His eyes are glued to me, sharp and focused, so sparkling clear he means I’m that woman.
My breath stalls.
“Damn, guys. It’s sweet how you two get along when your folks shacked up later in life,” Marnie says, just as her wall of tangerine muscle returns with a fresh round of drinks. “I’m glad you’re helping yank her out of her shell, Chris. Lord knows I’ve tried to get her mingling with the boys. She had me worried for a while. If she was still a virgin by the time they handed over her degree, I swear...”
Again, my supposed friend gives me a downright carnivorous smile.
Oh my God.
I put my hand over Chris’ and lean forward, though, done with these games.
“Marnie, that’s enough. We don’t need to make my love life a public spectacle, right?”
I watch her inhale another martini glass of that bubblegum-pink sugar booze. She’s drinking like a fish and already tipsy.
Normally, I’d be scared to call her out like this, but I’m sick of her crap.
We’re friends.
I’m not the butt of her jokes.
“...right. Sorry, Cordie,” she says with a huff. “It’s just been forever since we caught up. Seems like you’ve been busy all summer ever since that beach party.” She cocks her head. “Oh, and when are you inviting us out there again? Remember last year? We had like ten barbecues under our belt by now.”
I slouch in my chair, unsure how to feel.
She’s trying to be nice, conciliatory, but I wonder when the hell Marnie might decide to grow up. Or maybe hanging around Chris so much just makes me realize who I’ve been surrounding myself with.
“Lots of family stuff going on lately, like I told you. Plus, Dad’s been keeping things kinda private. You know how he gets when people are coming and going for business,” I lie, desperate to cover up the fact that I’m totally under my stepbrother’s spell. “I mean, fall will be here before we know it. Maybe we should do one more bash.”
“Hell yeah!” That perks her up. She pulls on boy toy’s arm, and he gives her this smile that looks way too much like a drooling golden lab. “How about a house party? Your folks are still going out of town a lot, right?”
I hesitate.
While I’ve hinted at the problems in Dad’s new marriage, I’ve kept it light on details, other than Evie’s overdose.
I also don’t want to pile more stress on our staff who are already walking on eggshells thanks to Evie. The last thing they need is cleanup duty left by Hurricane Marnie and a few dozen party animals. I can’t find every broken beer bottle and used condom when the music stops.
“I’ll talk to Dad, okay? He said something about a big conference in Atlanta soon. Maybe then. But I’m not sure if Evie will be tagging along. She’s been going through some crap lately.” I clench my jaw, side-eyeing Chris.
The last thing I want to do is remind him of his ruined mother.
But Chris looks at me sharply and says, “Don’t let her hold you ladies back. Believe me, she’ll be too damn whacked out of her gourd to know what’s going on if you do decide to host.” Chris waves a hand through the air and then looks at Marnie, his brows still furrowed. “I’ve got a big job coming up soon. I’d love to have some fun before I’m sent to kick asses to the moon and back.”
Marnie laughs drunkenly.
The bodybuilder chuckles too, then drains his drink and smiles. “Yeah, me three...or is that me four? I lost count.”
“It’s settled! Let’s do it ASAP, Cordie, if daddy dearest approves. Let me know what’s up. I’ve got a new bikini I’d love to show off.”
Best of all, Chris never even looks at her.
His eyes are hung on me when he leans in and whispers, “You should listen to your friend, Delia. I’d love to see you on the beach, looking hot as fuck. Nothing with too much skin—this is for my eyes only.”
His hand slides down my thigh, squeezing firmly.
I gulp my margarita so I don’t flipping whimper and choke.
God, he’s bad.
And I love every bit of it.
Now, if only I can keep him without destroying every other thread of my life.
* * *
Later, we’re strolling up and down our slice of beach, the same place where I first saw him emerging from the waves like a sea beast heaved up by the deep.
The bar is dark and quiet tonight with nothing going on, and so is the boathouse, but I remember how my body tingled the first time he dragged me there, pushed me against the wall, taking what was always destined to be his.
What always will be.
I hope.
I never want this to end.
“Just a little farther, princess. Take my hand.” We keep walking and he guides me up the small rocky hill. It’s slow going in my flip-flops.
The ground turns uneven the higher we climb, but it’s the perfect time for catching the summer sunset over the Pacific, and that makes the short, rugged journey worth it.
We pick a spot to throw down a towel and sit.
It’s as picturesque as it is cliché, my head tucked into his shoulder, watching the midsummer sun slipping below the horizon, turning the ocean into glinting silver.
“What are we doing, Chris?” I ask. “Do you ever worry about how we’ll break the news?”
“The party? Your old man has a hell of a nice spot for it. Hope your friend keeps the guest list light, though, so we can still find a few places to get dirty.”
“Idiot!” I punch him in the arm, shaking my head. “I’m talking about us. Um, did you get the feeling Marnie knows about us? If we can’t hide it in front of her, our parents will find out.”
“Let ’em. We’re not doing anything illegal and we’re grown, consenting goddamn adults,” he grinds out. “I’ve come to terms with how bad I want you, Delia. Your turn.”
With his eyes beaming heat, he grabs my thigh. His hand snakes up my skirt, tugging at my panties.
I gasp, and it’s a struggle to keep listening to what he’s saying.
“Chris, we should be carefu—”
“No. No excuses and no more dicking around with secrets. I’m not letting go of you, Delia Burr. Never. I don’t care if it takes them another decade to figure out they’re done and you’re still my stepsister on paper. Hell, I’ll call you Cleopatra if it keeps you under me.”
I’m still processing the weight of his words when his mouth attacks mine.
His kiss is smothering.
His fingers find my pussy, pushing inside, making me so flushed and helpless.
He groans with delight when he feels how wet I am.
Then his thumb sweeps over my clit and stays there, pushing me fully flat on the ground.
I’m lying down on the sandy bluff, perfectly positioned for him to push my skirt up and shove his face between my legs.
And of course he seizes the opportunity.
I can’t hold back my moan.
If anyone looks up at just the right angle, they’ll see us tangled on this rock.
But once he starts, there’s no stopping him.
He’s a force of nature and he wants me so bad.
So much more than just mind-blowing sex.
I run my nails through his hair, feeling his powerful neck, dragging them down, down, down into my tingling center.
His tongue strokes quicken.
Tensing, I push down against his mouth—the delicious scratch of his stubble—plummeting into an O that sweeps in faster than the ocean breeze.
Sixty more seconds is all it takes.
Then I’m coming to the steady murmur of the water so hard my vision goes white.
White like paper, so ready for his ink.
Ready for him to write out the rest of our lives.
He pins me down when I cry out.
There’s no escaping this beautiful madness we call ours, just like there’s no hiding what’s truly in my heart. This blind, reckless love that won’t hear any excuses, no matter how taboo.
I want Chris Triton.
I need him.
And as long as he’s with me, I’m ready for anything, even my father suffering a nervous breakdown when he finds out his only daughter is head over heels in love with her own step-beast.
When I finally come down from my high, his pants are down.
He sinks into me with a low, possessive growl, pushing my legs up over his shoulders.
Thank God the workout climb here loosened me up.
