Page 40 of Charming Cruel Boys

Knight and I don’t move until the front door closes and I know for sure Sara’s gone. Then I turn around to face him right as he lets go of his fucking towel. My eyes drop to his hardening cock —holy shit, it’s pierced— without my permission, and I curse myself for falling for that.

“Oops,” Knight whispers, stepping closer to me and leaning an arm against the wall above my head.

“What is wrong with you?” I hiss, folding my arms over my chest, trying to hide how rapidly I’m breathing.

“A whole helluva lot, baby girl. We don’t have enough time to unpack it all right now.”

“Good thing I’m not interested in fixing you anymore then.”

“Ouch, Remi,” Knight says, looking wounded.Fake, all fake. “You really know how to hurt a man’s feelings.”

“A man? All I see is a cowardly boy who can’t own up to shit. You treat everyone around you like garbage, but one day, you’ll get screwed over and realize you have no one in your corner,” I spit, finishing with a hard poke at his chest.

“Not everyone, just you,” Knight corrects in a tight voice.He’s so close that our noses would touch if I tipped my head back.

“Well, why me?” I demand, all the hurt over what he’s done rising like a dangerous tide. My eyes fill with tears, and I blink furiously to keep them at bay. I willnotbe weak over this pathetic, manipulative guy. I refuse.

“So I can break you,” Knight admits, his voice hollow.“Because nothing is sweeter than watching you crumble and knowing I was the one who did it.” He leans in and licks a tear off my cheek, wrapping both arms around me and palming my ass. The move pulls our bodies together and I gasp as I feel hisverynaked, hard dick against my stomach.

I shove him away from me and swing my palm through the air, slapping his face as hard as I can. “Fuck you,” I snarl.

“Nah, baby girl. I don’t do desperate. I’d be down to watch my brother bend you over though.” Knight winks before turning and going to his room. “By the way, my mom wanted to chat with you about a girls’ day. Better not let her find out that you’re dripping for both of your stepbrothers,” he tosses out casually right before the door to his bedroom closes, leaving me shocked and irritated and frustratingly horny.

27

Remi

IfindRoseinthe kitchen after I’ve taken some seriously deep breaths to calm down. Stupid fucking Knight Ashbury and the cruel games he likes to play with my head. Why he decided on me as his victim is a mystery, but I’m about at my bullshit limit for the rest of the year. The fake smile I put on as I walk into the kitchen is painful.

Rose is frantically whipping up something in a big mixing bowl, flour smeared all over her cheek and panic shining in her green eyes. I can’t even help it, the sight of her pulls a shocked laugh from my lips. Rose looks up and smiles weakly, sighing as she gives up on whatever she’s attempting to make.

“Remi,” Rose sighs. “How are you? I hope you’re hungry. I’m, uh, making an apple pie. From scratch,” she explains, biting her lip and looking around at the mess she’s made.She looks so much like a kid with their hand caught in a cookie jar, it’s adorable.

Sitting down on a stool at the island, I say, “Knight told me you wanted to chat about a girls’ day with me?”I don’t let my hope show in my voice, but the truth is, I’d love to spend some time with her. I’m not expecting her to take over any kind of mother role for me but… I guess she would help me not feel so lonely in the world if only she got to know me. If she cared about me the way not many people have in my life.

Rose furrows her brows as she looks at me, slowly shaking her head. “No. I mean, Remi, sweetheart, I’d love to get to know you before we become a family, but I didn’t send Knight to fetch you. He must have been confused.”

I hum, wondering what game he’s playing now and silently plotting his murder. Quirking a smile, I move around the island and peek at the recipe she’s using.

“Mind if I pitch in? I love to bake, and no offense, but it looks like you’re kind of overwhelmed,” I say with a soft laugh.

Rose cracks a wide smile, wiping her hands on a lime-green apron. “I am, very much. I appreciate it. I’m just trying to make a treat for you kids. Charles told me you used to fend for yourself just fine, but I’m a mother, Remi. It’s not in me to sit back and do nothing when my kids need something. No matter what it is,”she says solemnly.

An uneasy feeling flows through me, and I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear just to give myself something to do. “I never knew my mom, and my dad isn’t the nurturing type, so I’m used to doing things for myself. I don’t mind doing the cooking and baking,” I say quietly.

Rose puts her hand on my shoulder, a soft touch that’s so opposite to my father’s. I wonder, not for the first time, what a sweet woman like her is doing with my vile dad.The first thought that comes to mind iswow, he must have a huge— I stop myself right the hell there becausegross. Besides, being blessed in that department doesn’t give any guy the right to be an asshole.

Rose is completely oblivious to my inner monologue, so she keeps going with a kind, warm smile and her blonde hair in a floury mess. “Well, regardless of all that, I’m awful in the kitchen. I’d love to learn some new tricks so the boys quit making fun of me. Think you might want an extra hand whenever you’re cooking up something? I promise I won’t get in the way.”

“Sure, that sounds nice actually. But maybe we should start with something simple? Apple pie is great, but attempting to make the crust from scratch when you’ve never done it before is frustrating.” I laugh, tying my long hair up with a rubber band from my wrist. Then Rose and I work together, clearing away the giant mess she made and grabbing fresh supplies for my beloved blueberry muffins. They’re Duke’s favorite. It’s a recipe I’ve fine-tuned over the years, taking bits and pieces from others until it was perfect. Now, I could make these in my sleep.

Rose and I mix and talk and scoop and laugh, and pretty soon, we’ve got two dozen muffins baking in the oven. It was almost cathartic to share my kitchen space with someone, accept their help, and teach them my own personal recipe. Something I’ve never had before.Maybe we could make a habit out of this.

“Thank you, Rose,” I tell her, grabbing water from the fridge and sitting at the island.

“No, thank you. That was so much fun,” Rose says, her eyes alight and her smile wide. She props her hip against the counter and uses a damp paper towel to wipe down her face and neck. Like, seriously, the woman had floureverywhere. I have no idea how she managed it.

“So, are you excited for the wedding?” I ask, trying to force an easy smile on my face even though the thought of her being shackled to my father makes me feel ill.

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