Read Hard: A Step-Brother Romance for Free Online Page B

overstuffed, Victorian furniture. It wasn’t me. Then again, college was
more bean bags and body pillows, not wingbacks and pedestals.
    What
was he planning on doing with all of this?
    I
snuck into the grand foyer, his museum of marble staircases and crystal
chandeliers. The house had a hundred places to sit in every material and comfort
level imaginable—including a chair that looked too much like real zebra. I
plunked down on the stairs instead.
    This
was ridiculous.
    The
house. The funeral. The almost-wedding. The secret marriage.
    Zach.
    I was
used to being abandoned, but I was never used before. Did he have sex with me
to get lucky, or had he deliberately indulged in something perverted to steal
his inheritance?
    Whatever
his game, it wasn’t sexy. It was sad. Disturbing.
    And
it had felt so real .
    Our
night was passionate. It forged a solid, absolute connection that made the
other two lovers I experienced seem like little more than a flick of my fingers.
I never came like that. I never acted like that. I never thought I’d
meet someone who made me feel so…desired.
    What
an ass, both of us. It served me right. I went looking for a quick and easy
pleasure to muffle the guilt for not feeling miserable enough. What did I think
would happen when I slept with a man who called himself Hard ?
    A
clang echoed in the halls.
    I
jumped up. It wasn’t the air-conditioning or a bag of money thunking against
the floor.
    I
pawed through my pockets for my cellphone and readied to dial.
    Another
thud. My heart stopped then tried to crack out of my ribs.
    Who was
in my house? How would someone even get in? We dismissed the serving staff
while the estate settled, the community was gated, and I thought the alarm
system was set.
    Or maybe
it wasn’t? The damn system went off the instant I walked inside, and the
security company calling my cellphone was not happy that I didn’t know my
paternal grandmother’s maiden name. Apparently My Dad ran out on me turn
this freaking siren off haven’t I suffered enough! was not in their set of
passwords.
    I
needed something to defend myself. Fortunately, whoever Dad hired to decorate
the mansion loved tucking vases in arbitrary places. I snagged a crystal centerpiece
on the way to the kitchen, raised it over my head, and braced for an attack.
    I
peeled the corner.
    The
vase ripped from my hands.
    And Zach
laughed.
    Especially
as the chrysanthemums exploded in a plume of white petals and showered me with
blossoms and water.
    I
shrieked, mainly from terror but also because I couldn’t think of a profanity
strong enough for my outrage.
    “Easy
there, sis.” Zach pushed the vase onto the counter. “Death by peonies is not a
good obituary for a SEAL.”
    I stared.
    Didn’t
mean to.
    Couldn’t
help it.
    How
the hell did Zach get into my house?
    And
where were his clothes ?
    Zach
strutted in my kitchen wearing nothing but dripping-wet swim trunks. They clung
to his trim and deliciously toned waist by virtue of his self-declared best
feature. His body rippled hard, muscle over muscle. The scars shone over his
skin, but whatever was once injured had been stitched back together. Something
terrible happened to him. I knew better than to ask. Hell, I wasn’t even going
to look .
    No
matter how badly I wanted to peek.
    I
turned, spinning from the magnificently sculpted form flexing his way to the fridge.
He removed a Gatorade and chugged the bottle, crushing the plastic in his hand.
    Why
was he drinking from my fridge?
    Wait...who
even stocked the damn thing?
    “What
the hell are you doing?” I probably shouted too loudly.
    “I’m
thirsty.”
    I
had no response. I sputtered over too many questions and unreasonable demands.
Zach didn’t care. I choked on my words and stewed in silence.
    He tossed
the empty bottle in the recycling. I glanced over him again. Scars upon scars.
Just…everywhere. Not only that, he favored his left arm, even if he didn’t
outwardly show it. Something nearly