He's So Fine (A BBW Stepbrother Romance) Read Online Free Page B

timid kitty had some claws.
    “How about some lemonade?”
    She smiled at me and I felt about ten feet tall thinking I’d made the right choice. If only she’d been there for the last ten years of my life. Some choices I couldn’t unmake. I followed her into the kitchen. I wasn’t one to wait around for invitations.
    The kitchen had as many high-end finishes and furnishings as the living room. If this was my father’s vacation house, I’d hate to see what his everyday house looked like.
    “What, no housekeeper to pour your drink for you?”
    Her back was turned toward me as she stood in the draft of the refrigerator. She threw a glance over her shoulder, letting me know my barb hadn’t stung, but that she was fully aware of what I was trying to do. Well, at least one of us knew.
    “No. My mother likes to cook.”
    “Do you?” What the hell was happening to me? I was making small talk with a girl. I never made small talk with a girl. The most I usually said was your place or mine. Sometimes I didn’t even give them the choice, depending on what I wanted to do for the night. Most girls didn’t have the toys I liked to play with lying around their bedrooms.
    She shrugged her shoulder again and I realized it was a nervous habit, like tugging at the hem of her shirt. I wished she had on something else, something that would slip off her shoulder and reveal her creamy smooth skin. I realized I should have hooked up with a girl before I made the trip. That had to be the cause for my unreasonable attraction to this woman.
    My stepsister.
    Oh, fuck, that would be just wrong. Wouldn’t it?
    She retrieved a glass pitcher filled with lemonade. It had lemon slices floating on top. She had to steady it with both hands, leaving no doubt it was real crystal. Stretching again, she reached for two glasses in the cabinet above her head.
    Before I realized what I was doing, I was at her side, taking them down and handing them to her. Now, no one ever accused me of being a gentleman. But hell, if it didn’t bring out something in me to see her struggling like that. “Here you go. Maybe you should get a little step stool or something.” I grinned down at her as I handed her the glasses.
    She gave me a reprimanding look worthy of a teacher. Or a nun. “Ha, ha. How’s the weather up there, by the way?”
    “Touché.”
    She wasn’t really short, about five-five in my estimation. But that made her a whole foot shorter than me. I didn’t move as she poured us each a glass of lemonade. It seemed to frazzle her so I stepped closer when her back was turned.
    She let out a little yelp when she bumped into me. “I didn’t know you were that close.”
    She pushed those cute little glasses up her nose. It made me want to take them off to see just how beautiful those eyes were.
    I used the excuse of retrieving my glass of lemonade to crowd her against the counter. I let my cock brush against her hip and delighted in the sharp inhalation of breath she couldn’t control. I took a long drink, knowing her gaze would follow the movement of my throat. It was a cheap seduction trick most guys learned early. I set down the empty glass, caging her in with my arms.
    I used that trick every time I could. Chicks went crazy and thought that was how I got my name. Caging them in with my arms.
    It wasn’t. My mother had named me Cage. Horace Cage. What a fucking name. I always wondered if she thought my birth had somehow put her in a cage. That was a conversation we would never have. She’d been dead to me long before I’d buried her.
    “That was good. Did you make it?”
    “Yes.” Her voice held a tiny little squeak and I smiled. She reminded me of a mouse trapped by a cat. A cat about to pounce.
     
    ABBY
    I didn’t know how I was even breathing with Cage so close to me. I felt like I had landed on the surface of the sun and all the oxygen had been sucked from my lungs. He continued to stand there, his eyes boring directly into mine. I