Page 4 of Screwed
“It’s my pizza you asshole,” she yells at my back.
Opening the door I pay for her pizza and bring it back to the kitchen, where she is still standing in that fucking robe.
“Seriously Jana, go put something on,” I say, tossing the pizza down on the granite-covered island.
“No, I just took a shower and I’m sure as hell not changing because you asked me to. I’m comfortable.” She pulls a plate out of the cabinet and that useless white material rides up exposing the rounded bottom of her ass.
Rushing behind her I pull the plate away and grab onto her shoulders, holding her gaze. “I’m not asking, I’m telling you. Go into your fucking bedroom and put some clothes on.” Breathing heavily from being completely turned on, I lean against her letting my lips brush against her ear. “Now,” I whisper.
Pulling back I run my hand through my hair as my eyes wander all over her. She’s breathing even more heavily than I am as she leans her slender body against the counter. It brings a smirk to my face knowing that I’m getting to her. Slowly, she pushes off the counter and quietly walks down the hallway to her room.
I grab a slice of pizza and take it to the couch with me. Looking around I’m impressed with what my dad did with this house. Growing up it sure as hell didn’t look like this. Especially after my mom died and it was just the two of us. I guess he’s doing pretty well for himself. He’s got the wife, the house and even a little girl. It’s a fucking dream I’m sure.
Jana comes out of the kitchen with her pizza, in a t-shirt and sweatpants, and sits in the chair on the opposite side of the room. I grin as I finish off my food.
“What time is Jim expected home?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
She shakes her head as she bites into her pizza. Who knew watching someone eat, who is fully clothed, could be a turn on.
“You’ll be waiting a while. They just left for Hawaii a few hours ago,” she says while she continues to watch TV.
Unreal. “For how long?”
She glances over and shakes her head. “What the hell does it matter? You need money or something?”
Anger boils up inside me as I bolt up off the couch. I cage her in and don’t even give a fuck she looks scared. “Let’s get something straight here. I don’t need shit from him, never have, never will. I sure as fuck don’t want or need his money, I make plenty of that on my own. Don’t assume you know me sweetheart, you don’t have a clue.”
I push off the chair and go into the kitchen. Jim has to have some good liquor in this dream home of his. I spot a cabinet and push it open. A bottle of Jack sits on the high shelf, and I marvel at its amber color. This will taste so good going down, and it does. Jana avoids all eye contact as I take my seat and kick my feet up on the coffee table.
“They won’t be home for two weeks,” Jana says, avoiding eye contact.
Damn, two weeks. He’s going to be pissed. I smirk as I sip my whiskey. Looking over at Jana, she focuses on the TV and I figure why not drink and get to know my stepsister.
“You live here?” I ask.
She turns her head and as soon as we make eye contact she looks down. “No, I don’t live here. I’m watching the house for them while they’re gone.”
“Just you?”
She sighs, twisting toward me. “Yes, just me. This is my vacation.”
I dip my eyebrows and look around the house. “Staying here is your vacation?”
“Not everyone makes fistfuls of money, Shawn. So, yeah staying here in this big house all by myself is my vacation.”
Well fuck that’s pathetic. Staying home is not a vacation. Going to an island, drinking, fucking, that is a vacation. I hold up the Jack and she smirks. “You want a drink on your vacation?”
She goes to get up, but I shake my head. Grabbing her a glass, I pour her drink and bring it out to her.
“Thanks,” she says, swirling the liquor around, and I watch a moment as the ice cubes clank against the glass.
I pour a bit more into mine and place the bottle on the coffee table. “What else did you have in mind for your vacation?”
She smiles and fuck, she’s even hotter when she doesn’t look like she wants to hurt me. “I’ve only got two days off work, but I intend on sleeping late, getting drunk and relaxing.”
“Alone?”
“Yep,” she says, sipping her drink.
