Page 11 of Their Best Friends' Bratty Little Sister

“If you aren’t going punish me like I’m five years old for not listening to my elders, and if you’re not taking me back to the plane, or another airport where I can get a flight home, then—”

“I’ll show you to your room.” Cameron cut her off before she could ask about her sleeping arrangements.

“I also don’t have any clothes. What am I supposed to do about that?”

Rowan disappeared into what could only be a utility room. He emerged moments later with a T-shirt, a pair of boxer briefs, and a pair of track bottoms.

“That’ll do for now,” he said as he threw the items to her and this time she deliberately didn’t bother catching them. It fell to the floor and pooled at her feet. The scent of fabric softener wafted to her. At least it was freshly laundered. But there was a hole in the pants and she would drown in those boxers.

“You expect me to wear that? I’m wearing Valentino right now and you want me to wear that?” She pointed to the floor. “Just show me to my room,” she said with the attitude of a pampered princess not getting her way.

“Brat,” Rowan muttered under his breath, but loud enough that he wanted her to hear him.

“Brute,” she said and met his gaze before she turned it on both Lawson and Cameron, just so they’d know she thought they all three were big bullying brutes.

She hated them. She hated them so much because they all knew what she would be forced to do. Cursing them, she scooped up the clothes from the floor and marched out of the kitchen. It took Cameron a few strides to slip in front of her and so she looked up to glare daggers into this back.

The room Cameron led her to was clean and practical. It contained an unglamorous bed, a dresser, a table, and a chair.

“We hope you’ll enjoy your stay with us, ma’am,” Cameron said grinning from ear to ear as he stood on the outside of the door.

“Don’t call me ma’am,” she said through gritted teeth then slammed the door in his face.

Tears started to drip from her eyes the instant she was alone, but she sucked up the pity party before it could begin in earnest.

She needed a plan.

She needed the bathroom first then a shower first.

No. She needed an Evian bath but that was not going to be possible stuck as she was in the middle of nowhere, the civilization, and she used the term loosely, was made up of three men who still had one foot stuck in their caves.

She opened a door and was relieved to find a bathroom. No bathtub. Just a shower, basin, and toilet.

After relieving herself, she stripped off her clothes, then took forever to get the temperature of the water just right. She had first almost scalded herself then almost given herself hypothermia before she got it right.

She lathered herself up, ignored that her body was tight and sensitive and still very aroused which made her scrub harder at her skin to remove that strange feeling from her body completely. She even shampooed her hair and groaned when the scent was familiar to her. It was the same brand they used and it smelled of apples and cinnamon.

Damn them.

Her hunger had finally scaled over now which meant she had swapped her stress for fury. She was mad at the world. Especially her brothers and mostly their three arrogant, egotistical, domineering, and daunting friends.

She didn’t know what irked her more. The fact that Rowan had spanked her in the most embarrassing way possible, or the fact that they really didn’t want her there, or liked her very much either.

And that stung. Harder and deeper than the red streaks running across her spanked ass, thanks to Rowan’s hand.

Her scrubbing became more vigorous. She had already washed her hair twice.

How dare they?

She finally stepped out of the cubicle, found the tiniest bath towel in the world, it was the only one there and patted herself dry.

That was another reason she could add to her list for not liking them. They had messed up her underwear and ruined its crispness.

She stared at her naked body in the single narrow floor length mirror in the room. She was waxed, tanned, and glowing thanks to her anger shower.

She then grabbed the clothes Rowan had given her, discarded the boxer briefs, then slipped into the T-shirt and track pants.

She climbed into the bed before the track pants could fall off her, or she tripped over her own two feet. She could only tighten it so much before the bunched-up waistband dug uncomfortably into her hips. It was too long as well and even if she folded the bottom, the band of elastic there was too worn out to work; it unrolled itself and she almost tripped over it once before.

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