Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 80643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Pushing inside me, in a way that would definitely hurt.
A fullness.
I let out a low moan, gripping the sheet below me with my free hand. And then I have a second thought, moving my hand up to my collarbone, instead.
And then I drape it over my throat, imagining that it belongs to someone else.
A woodsy scent, filling my nostrils.
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
My mind is going to bad places. Places that would feel far too masculine for what I’d ever be interested in, but my cock leaps at the thought of it, so good I can’t fucking stand it.
Someone overtaking me, completely.
“Oh, God,” I utter as I lose control.
I come fast, spilling white over my own hand.
My mind goes completely blank. I force it to stay that way.
Out of my system.
Done.
Never have to think about this again.
It’s like I’m an alien in my own room as I clean up, put on fresh clothes, and come back down to Earth. I grab my phone and check the screen, seeing that I have new messages.
My family has always had a big group chat with all of the six Vancliff siblings and Dad. Dad added Kolina last year, and all of us use the family group chat all of the time.
I open it up to see a message from my dad.
Dad: I added somebody special to the chat. Did it work, Torin?
Unknown Number: I’m in. Happy to be here.
Blaise: Welcome to the family, Torin.
Cameron: Dude, you going to come to the country estate with us this summer, Torin? Family tradition.
Unknown Number: Never been to the Vancliff summer estate before.
Dad: Of course you’re coming, Torin. We visit at least once every summer. You’ll be there.
Unknown Number: Beautiful. Can’t wait.
Dad: By the way, Noah, did you get the transfer I sent you?
Noah: Got it. Thank you, Dad.
Dad: Also, Torin, I saw the post you made about rehabilitating that baby robin yesterday morning. Incredible work, kiddo.
After I tap out my reply, I realize I’m gripping the phone so hard my knuckles are turning white.
I saw Torin’s Instagram post yesterday, too, where he was saving an orange and black baby bird that had fallen from a nest. Not a day goes by where Torin doesn’t do something heroic, and not a day goes by without my dad being wowed by it.
When Dad thinks of me, he thinks of… a money pit.
A mess to clean up.
Past hospital bills, when I broke my nose drinking too much.
Or bail-out money, for the incident on the rooftop with Bree.
Sometimes it feels like I have to stop the entire speeding freight train of my life, then somehow find a way to turn it back around. I want to be thought of as good, too, not because I need my ego stroked, but because I know I’m capable of so much more.
I add Torin to my phone contacts under the name Stepbrother Psychotic and lock the screen, tossing it onto my nightstand.
Torin’s going to be on our summer vacation, too.
The Vancliff country estate is one of my favorite places on the planet. It’s situated on acres of beautiful land full of rolling green hills and trees, like something out of a period movie. The house is a stone manor that looks like an English castle, and the property has its own river flowing through it.
Every summer, it’s a place where I can reset. Relax. Try to be better.
I’ve always pictured bringing a woman there, hopefully the woman I’d one day marry. I’ve even pictured my future kids running around that estate one day.
And now, later this summer, Torin’s presence is going to bleed into that part of my world, too.
Lovely.
My head is on the pillow for all of five minutes before my phone screen lights up, blue and bright, in the darkness.
When I check the screen, my chest clenches.
Stepbrother Psychotic: Hi, Daisy.
I unlock the phone and see that Torin has started a private text conversation just between the two of us.
And he called me Daisy, the nickname he used to call me in high school. A girl I fucked had tucked a daisy into my hair one day, and I came home with it still there on one of the days that Kolina had brought Torin over.
He always thought he was bothering me with that nickname, but the joke was on him, because it never bugged me at all.
What’s next, stalker? Am I going to find you outside my window? Maybe getting off while secretly looking at me?
Don’t text me. I’m going to sleep.
Listen, if you need a weapon, I do have handmade knives and leather sheaths. You could just ask instead of rooting through my shit.
I’m fine. I have what I need.
And what are you involved with? Tell me what you really need a weapon for.
That’s not going to happen. Stay out of my business.