Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83602 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83602 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Now, this was just getting uncomfortable.
“There’s really nowhere to go from here, so unless you’re planning on doing something, you should probably leave and let me finish getting dressed.”
She finally left.
I hoped to God she was kidding. If she’d never seen a guy naked before then what I’d just done was really fucked up.
***
A couple of days later, I’d overheard her telling her friend that she thought I was hot—“so fucking hot”—to be exact. Honestly, even though I knew I had some kind of effect on her, I wasn’t exactly sure if it was physical attraction. So, hearing that was a little bit of a game changer. The good: I knew I could use it to my benefit. The bad: I was unbelievably attracted to her, too and needed to make sure she didn’t know it.
Living at the house seemed to get a little easier each day. Although I would never have admitted it, I wasn’t exactly miserable anymore—far from it.
I took joy in doing little things to mess with her, like stealing all of her underwear and her vibrator. Okay, maybe that wasn’t such a little thing. Overall, though, I started to realize that the motivation behind my actions wasn’t what I originally intended.
Getting back at Randy was barely an afterthought anymore. Now, I was messing with Greta simply to get her attention.
In a matter of days, I’d all but forgotten about my “evil plan.”
One afternoon, though, shit got real when I intentionally brought a girl from school to Kilt Café where Greta worked. I’ll admit; I had no problem getting girls and had been with a few of the hottest ones at school within the first month. But they all bored me. Everything bored me—except getting a rise out of my stepsister.
Greta never bored me.
The first thing I’d think about when I’d wake up in the morning was how I was going to ruffle her feathers next.
That day at the café was no exception, but it was a turning point—one I couldn’t turn back from.
Greta was waiting on our table, and I’d been intentionally giving her a difficult time. She ended up trying to get back at me by pouring a shitload of hot sauce into my soup. When I figured it out, I gulped the entire thing down to spite her. Even though it burned like hell, I didn’t let it show. I was so impressed with her that I could have kissed her.
So, I did.
Under the guise of retaliation, I used the soup as an excuse to corner her in a dark corridor and do what I’d wanted to for weeks. I’ll never forget the noise she made when I first grabbed her and claimed her wet little mouth with mine. It was like she was starving for it. I could have kissed her all damn day, but this was supposed to appear like it was about the hot sauce and not the kiss. So, I reluctantly ripped myself away and went back to the table.
I was hard as hell, and that wasn’t good. I told my date to meet me outside so she wouldn’t notice.
I had to make it seem like what just happened didn’t affect me and needed to quickly reinforce the idea that it was a joke. I’d been carrying around a pair of Greta’s underwear with me for days just waiting for the perfect opportunity to taunt her with them. So, I left her the thong as part of her tip with a note that suggested she change into them because she was probably a little wet.
I wished I could have seen her reaction.
***
We were starting to spend more time together. She’d come to my room and play videogames, and I’d sneak glances at her neck when she wasn’t watching me.
I’d replay the kiss in my head constantly, sometimes even when I was with other girls.
Greta and I would be eating ice cream together, and the urge to lick it off the corner of her mouth was enormous.
I could feel myself falling for her in more ways than one, and I didn’t like it.
Not only was I attracted to her, but she was the first girl whose company I actually enjoyed.
I needed to keep myself in check, though, since taking it any further with her was not an option. So, I kept bringing girls home and pretended not to have feelings for Greta.
It was working out alright until I found out she was going on a date with a guy from school: Bentley. He was bad news. Her friend ended up asking me to join them on a double date, and I took the opportunity so that I could keep an eye on things.
The date had been torture. Having to hide my jealousy, I was forced to sit back and watch while this asshole put his hands on her. At the same time, Greta’s friend, Victoria, was all over me, and there was zero interest on my part. I just wanted to get Greta home safely, but the night turned into way more than I bargained for. Before it was over, I’d nearly put Bentley in the hospital after he’d confessed that he’d made a bet with Greta’s ex that he could devirginize her. I went ballistic. Never in my life had I felt the need to protect someone like I wanted to protect her.