Page 20 of Stepbrothers

“Yes, hence we’re going for air.”

“You weren’t going for air.” Hugh’s right eyebrow twitched up. “Were you?”

“For god’s sake, guys,” Clarice said. “I’ve had enough of this. Can you just get out of our way?”

“No.” Parker wrapped his hand around her upper arm, his fingers tight and firm. “We are staying very much in your way.”

“So if you’ll excuse us, Wayne,” Hugh added.

“Goddamn it, you fellas are always such killjoys.”

“If that’s the way you want to look at it, fair enough.” Parker nodded over Wayne’s shoulder. “Go find some other girl to fuck, because it won’t be our new sister.”

“I wasn’t…I…jeez.”

“See you around.” Hugh kicked open the door behind him. “Clarice, this way.”

Clarice found herself bustled into the lobby. When the door shut, the sound of the music faded and her ears rang. “What are you doing?” The lights were startling and bright, and she blinked several times.

“We’re going up.” Parker tugged her to the left, toward the elevator.

Her heels clicked on the hard tiled floor. “What? Why?”

“We have things to discuss.” Hugh stabbed the button, and the elevator doors slid open immediately.

Parker tugged her in.

“We have nothing to discuss, I can assure you.” She scowled at first Parker and then Hugh. “I want to go back to the reception…now.”

“I don’t think so,” Parker said, still holding her arm.

“Get off me.” She wriggled, but it was no good, he kept hold of her.

The elevator pinged up three floors. Clarice stared at their reflections in the smoky mirrored doors. Even in heels she was small standing between the two big men, and her blonde hair, curled into ringlets, stood out against their black suits and dark hair. A strange thrill gripped her when she remembered Wayne’s words.

There were rumors they shared her.

For a moment she imagined being their last girlfriend, the Scottish girl they’d shared—apparently. Had that really happened? Had one lucky woman got to fuck both Hugh and Parker? Had she jumped into bed with them at the same time or had they picked different days of the week?

The doors opened. Parker led her out.

“You’ve got a nerve, you know,” she said when he took her to the right and opened a door. “I’ll tell my mother about this.”

“I really don’t think you will,” Parker said. “In you go, this needs to be hashed out in private.”

“What does?” She stepped into the plushly carpeted room. The heavy red-and-gold plaid curtains were drawn, and the bed had been turned back, a chocolate on each pillow.

“Hugh!” A deep voice bellowed.

Hugh stopped, not quite in the room, and looked to his right. “Simon?”

“I’m glad I caught you, I really need a hand with something.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

“Right now?” Hugh frowned at Parker then looked back at Simon.

---