Page 6 of Stepbrothers

“Ah good, you’re awake.” Sean stood before her. Dressed smartly, almost as if he’d re-ironed his shirt and pants. A waft of hotel shower gel and shampoo lingered, overly soapy and pine-scented. “Check out is at noon. You’ve got two minutes.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?” She leaped naked from the bed.

“Figured you’d need the rest after that early morning orgasm.” He picked up his phone and wallet and slid them into his pockets. “Orgasm number four if I’m correct.”

Stooping, she snatched up her panties. “Oh bloody hell.” They were ripped and of no use. “Thanks for that.” She slung them in the direction of the bin. They landed half on it.

“I did warn you.”

She grunted and snatched up her bra, quickly put it on, and then found her shirt.

“I need to go,” he said, tapping his watch. “Got somewhere to be.”

“Oh yeah?” She rammed her arms into her shirt and glanced in the mirror. She groaned. Her hair was that ‘well and truly fucked’ style she so often sported on a Sunday morning.

“Yeah, so I’ll see you around.” He gestured to the door.

“Whatever.” Where the heck had her trousers gone? She coughed as she continued to search.

“Clarice.”

Ah, there they were, crumpled by the full-length mirror. She shot around the bed and grabbed them.

“Clarice.” His voice was deep and loud.

“What?” She frowned at him and with fumbling hands tried to switch her pants to the right way around.

“I mean it, be careful getting your kicks with strangers. You’re a nice chick, hot, and you’re a fucking wildcat in bed, and I’ve got the wounds to prove it.” He reached over his right shoulder, pulled a face. “I’m sure you could have any guy you choose, a long-term relationship wouldn’t be a bad thing.” His dark eyebrows pulled low. “Would it?”

“Why? You offering?”

“Er…no.” He’d spoken quickly, definitely.

“My point exactly.”

“I don’t mean…it’s just with my job and—”

“One-night stands suit me, too. Guys like to fuck, so do girls; we like to fuck, too, you know.”

“I know that. And for the record you’re a great fuck.”

“Gee, thanks for the compliment.”

He sighed and stepped past her, toward the door. “I’m just saying be careful, okay, maybe get in the habit of telling someone you trust where you’re gonna be and what time you’ll be home.”

“What are you? My bloody mother?” She wriggled into her pants. “Who, by the way, is only going to add to my hangover because I have to go and see her now.”

He opened the door. “You’re lucky to be seeing family. I’ve had to say goodbye to mine for a while.”

“You have?”

“Yeah, this work thing.” He signaled for her to leave the room.

She frowned, gathered her shoes, phone, and purse, then walked barefoot into the carpeted corridor. “Security job, right?”

“Right.”

Clarice let herself into her flat. The familiar musty scent of mold hit her. Bloody landlord was being a pain in the ass about fixing the roof. The place was becoming uninhabitable. No wonder she woke with a cough most mornings and the clothes in the back of the wardrobe needed a wash before she wore them as well as after.

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