Page 5 of Three Stepbrothers Save Christmas

“Why do you run in the morning?” she asks.

“Because I want to. Plus, it means I don’t have to go later in the day.”

Verity shrugs again and goes back to pushing her muesli around.

“There you go then. If I’m up at six, I can stretch and practice. I’m always showered, dressed, and ready to face the day by seven.”

I lean against the refrigerator and watch her momentarily as she pushes her food around in the bowl.

Something is definitely different about her this time. I can’t put my finger on it, but she seems more fragile than usual. Is that prick of a boyfriend to blame? If he is, I’m more than happy to ensure he never upsets her again. It took everything in me not to send him packing for good last night. I know his type; I’ve been his type. I know if I hadn’t been here, he’d have had no problem fucking her and then leaving to have a games night with his friends. He was here for a fuck, that’s it. If he weren’t, he wouldn’t have come around in the first place. She deserves better. Surely, she can see he is just a child who thinks with his dick.

Pushing myself away from the fridge, I pull my running top off. It’s wet with sweat and sticking to me, making me cool down too quickly. I still need to stretch before I seize up. When I turn my attention back to Verity, I catch her looking away quickly. Smiling, I walk past her, purposely tensing my back muscles. Teasing her in a way I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself. Glancing over my shoulder as I head back into the utility room to put my top in the washing machine, I catch her looking again.

“Like what you see, Baby Girl?” I tease. Verity jumps up and rushes towards the dishwasher, where she busies herself, emptying the contents of her bowl into the food bin before placing everything in the dishwasher to be cleaned. All while muttering that I need to keep my clothes on. I can’t help grinning, knowing she’s flustered because of me. I know I can’t act on the way my body aches for her, but I can enjoy teasing her, at least.

“What are your plans for today?” I ask, walking back into the kitchen whilst sipping my water.

“I’m going out with the girls, then meeting Marshall.” Verity turns around and stares at me with her hands on her hips. Where did those hips come from? She wasn’t this curvy the last time I saw her. Not that she is curvy in the right kind of way, but she could actually do with putting on a few pounds if I’m honest. There had been next to nothing in when I arrived yesterday afternoon. I had to do close to a full shop before I could make myself a simple sandwich. The only thing in the fridge was some lettuce, 0% milk and bottled water. That was it. Do I buy the whole “I was going to do a food shop tomorrow?” excuse? I don’t know. How much time does she spend alone in this big house? Is she really grabbing food when out rather than cooking for herself? I guess it would make sense. But something is telling me she isn’t eating properly.

“When he comes around later, try not to scare him off like last night, please. I love him and enjoy his company.”

I look at her with one arched brow. I don’t believe that she genuinely loves him; she might believe that she does, but does she even know what it means to be in love? Has anyone ever truly loved her the way she deserves? I know that prick hasn’t. Even if he says the words, he doesn’t show it. He would never choose games over a night with her if he did. I know I wouldn’t.

“Fine, I will stay out of the way so I don’t hurt Marshall’s feelings,” I sigh as I walk past her, planning on heading to my room. “But I still stand by what I said; he isn’t good enough for you, Verity. You could do better.”

“What do you know? You only met him for thirty seconds,” she sighs behind me. I turn around and cross my arms, not missing the way she eyes the tattoos on my chest. I take a step forward, closing the gap between us.

“I could tell you were uncomfortable, and it wasn’t just because I was there. Plus, what kind of man invites his girlfriend around for a game night? The only games you two should be playing are the type that makes you cry out his name.” I take another step closer as Verity finds herself trapped between me and the counter behind her.

“Can he make you scream his name? Can he make you moan at all? Or does he need the extra help in that department as well as lessons on how to treat a woman like you?”

Verity stares up at me for a moment, her lip between her teeth as her cheeks warm, and I know she is feeling exactly what I am at this moment. Aroused and desperate for a good fucking.

“You need to back off,” Verity eventually whispers as I smirk and step backwards.

“Fine, but think about what I said. You could do better.” I turn around and walk from the kitchen, still smirking to myself.

“And I suppose you could do better?”

I stop in my tracks and look over my shoulder at her.

“Baby Girl, you have no idea what I could make you feel or the games we could play. None of them would require batteries, a controller, or leave you reaching for a toy.” I hear her gasp as I walk out of sight and up to my room, hard as fuck and desperate to relieve even more pent-up tension. Considering I only came last night, my balls are hurting; they are so full. This is going to be a long ass few days if I have to spend a lot of time around her. I’m going to need to stock up on lube and tissues for the amount of self-pleasure I’m going to require.

4

Verity

I look across the table at Marshall as he scrolls through his phone. We’ve been in the restaurant for half an hour, and he’s hardly looked at me, let alone said more than a few words. Why does he feel so distant suddenly? It hasn’t always felt this way.

Since Ethan cornered me this morning and implied that I could do better, I’ve been unable to look past all the little things he has done recently that prove Ethan right. I could say he is the perfect boyfriend and that he messages me constantly. We spend time together, go to the cinema, out for drinks with his friends, and he surprises me by turning up at the house. But when was the last time he did that? Looking back at him now, he’s still glued to his phone. The only time he’s spoken to me was to ask if he could stay the night. Considering he’s ignored me all evening, do I really want to take him home?

Ethan’s voice keeps replaying in my mind: “You could do better.” Why did he have to say that? It’s put doubts there which weren't there before. He may not be the best lover, but he tries; bless him. It’s not all about the sex anyway; I enjoy his company when he remembers I’m there.

“Is everything okay?” I ask, trying to get his attention.

“Yep,” he answers, looking up and smiling. “One of my friends is just having a rough time, so I’m just checking in on them,” he adds before typing something on the phone, locking it and placing it screen down on the table.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean you had to stop,” I add, feeling guilty for coming between him and his friend. Marshall shrugs, taking my hand, which is resting on the table.

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