Page 14 of Into Ruin

She lets out a sigh and accepts his offered hand. He pulls her to her feet and guides her onto the porch ahead of him. The door is already unlocked, our other two roommates having arrived already.

She’s his sister.

His younger sister.

I should not be thinking about her pussy. Or her mouth. Or her nipples.

Gah.

“The only way the roommate won’t run her off is if she stands her ground,” I blurt out. “Maybe she should just go back.”

Royal glares at me. “Seriously?”

I lift my shoulder. “What?”

“Not helpful, asshole.”

I press my lips together. She takes a seat in the living room, at one end of the couch, and Royal and I both go upstairs to drop our bags in our rooms. Royal heads down the hall and disappears into the bathroom.

I go downstairs.

She’s on her phone, scrolling with her lower lip caught between her teeth.

“You think you’re clever?”

Her head jerks up.

I approach and stand over her. “You think beinghere, close to him, will protect you?”

“No. I just don’t have anywhere else to go.” She pushes off the couch, rising, and our chests brush. She has to tilt her head back to meet my gaze. “Yourproblemisn’t mine.”

“My only problem is you.” I lean into her slightly. The feel of her breasts pressing through the fabric between us is… enjoyable. Distracting. “And if you’re a prude, then I’m a saint.”

Her expression flashes. Anger, then suddenly, calm.

Stoicism.

At the sound of footsteps on the stairs, I take a large step back. I move around her and go into the kitchen. I adjust my dick in my pants, instantly annoyed it woke up for her. I busy myself in the fridge, searching for something to occupy my brain and hands.

Royal enters, and I glance over.

Calculating.

“This roommate of hers seems like a bitch,” I say.

He frowns. “You just said she should work it out. Stand her ground or whatever.”

“Yeah, well.” I shrug. “Maybe you just offer your baby sister the extra room.”

It’s at the back of the house, it’s small, and it only has one window. The others all have at least two, and they’ve got more breathing space. The owner of the house, who leases it to us through the school, didn’t want to deal with someone complaining about it.

But technically, it has a closet. It’s considered a bedroom.

“Maybe,” he hedges. “Not sure I want her around you heathens.”

I roll my eyes.

“It’s not you I worry about,” he assures me. “It’s everyone else.”

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