Page 15 of Hot Stepbrother Daddy

I shake my head again. “Nope, nope, nope, nope. Not going there.”

Still, as I pull out a black dress that hugs every curve just right, I can’t help but wonder if Adam will notice when I slip out tonight or if he’ll even care.

An hour later, I zip up the black dress, the smooth fabric leaving little to the imagination. I turn side to side in the mirror, fluffing my bright blond hair over one shoulder. My dark blue eyes stand out, framed by just enough eyeliner to make them pop, and my lips, painted a deep red, curve in a satisfied smile.

Objectively, I look good. But no matter what outfit, hair, or makeup I have on, I feel hollow, almost. Like all this is for show, a shiny shell to distract from what’s actually going on inside.

Which is a whole hell of a lot of feeling for Adam Lawson, the only man I've ever wanted.

And my stepbrother. Dammit.

Elise and Adam are both right. I really need to get out of this damned house and get some space.

The click of my heels echoes through the empty house as I descend the stairs and head towards the marble foyer. I have no idea if Adam is even home, and as much as I want to go looking, I've sworn to myself that I won't. Tonight is about getting him out of my mind, at least for a time. I can't do that in the same bedroom where he ate me out, or sitting in the living room with him watching soccer, just a few feet away.

I need to do some living to clear my head, and I almost make it to the front door when I hear his voice, low and oh-so-close behind me. "Where do you think you're going?"

He sounds curious, but there's a distinct unhappiness beneath it. I whirl around, startled, and find Adam standing at the base of the stairs, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes sweep over me, and I swear they widen for a split second before narrowing into something sharp and possessive.

Oh, it would be so easy to saunter up to him and loop my arms around his neck. Instead, I tell him the truth, even as heat flares in my cheeks. "Out."

“Like that?” he asks, gesturing vaguely to my dress.

I don't like the accusation in his tone. If he wanted to be possessive, he shouldn't have made me come and then taken off. "Exactly like this. Why?"

He strides closer, and my pulse kicks up. His eyes are burning now, like he’s barely holding himself together. “Laurie,” he says, his voice low, “you can’t just walk out dressed like that without telling me where you’re going."

“And why not?” I challenge, planting a hand on my hip. “Last I checked, you’re not my keeper.”

“I'm supposed to be keeping you safe."

I cross my arms, feigning boredom. “Well, I hate to break it to you, Adam, but I don’t need a babysitter.”

For a moment, he just stares at me, the air between us like a live wire. Then he steps even closer, his height and presence towering over me. “Where are you going?” he asks again, his voice quieter this time but no less firm.

This new side of him is throwing me off in all the worst ways. It should be purely annoying, but I find that I want him to be possessive. I want him to take care of me, but I can't let him know that. At least not until he admits that he wants this to be more than just sex.

I roll my eyes, trying to mask the way my heart is racing. “Fine,” I say. “I’ll tell you if it gets you off my back. I’m going to Elise’s party at the Sullivan house. Satisfied?”

Adam’s jaw clenches, and I can see the muscle there ticking like he’s grinding his teeth. But finally, he steps aside, leaving just enough room for me to squeeze by.

“Have fun,” he says, his tone flat.

I move toward the door, but as I pass him, my shoulder brushes his chest, and the heat of him radiates through the thin fabric of my dress. Part of me hopes he'll grab me, insist that I stay close, maybe even kiss me hard, but he doesn't.

I don’t look back as I step outside, but I feel his gaze on me the entire way to my car. And as much as I hate to admit it, I really, really like it.

* * *

Elise's estateis all sweeping lawns and glowing lanterns, the sound of the party in the backyard filtering to the front. I park and take a moment to collect myself, smoothing my dress and fluffing my hair. The hollow feeling from earlier is still there, but I force a smile onto my lips. This is what I need—people, music, distraction. Anything to push Adam and his ridiculous, sort of hot possessiveness out of my mind.

I head around the side of the house, the lights and sounds growing louder as I go. There are people everywhere, most with wine glasses and snifters in hand as they chat or dance. A few of them turn and wave, and I wave back, but I don't stop to talk to anyone. At least not yet.

I scan the crowd, looking for Elise, and spot her near the bar, surrounded by a group of people I don’t recognize. Elise is radiant as always, her red hair swept up in a chic bun, her champagne glass sparkling in the light.

“Laurie!” she squeals, waving me over. “You look amazing!”

“So do you,” I reply, leaning in for a quick hug.

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