Page 102 of Stepbrothers

“Jesus Christ. Do I have to do everything around here?” Derek stomped over to her, set his hand on her shoulder, and shoved, hard. “Get out of the way. I’ll do it.”

“Oh!” She staggered to the right, reaching for the counter to stop herself from falling over.

A loud clatter—a chair tipping backward and slamming onto the tiled floor.

Trig was pacing toward Derek so fast he was going to plow right through him.

He rounded the counter, expression steely.

“Trig, no!”

Derek’s eyes widened. “Hey, you can’t come back here. Staff only.”

Trig’s hand latched around Derek’s throat, pushing him backward and slamming him against the wall.

“Trig. No!”

“You think it’s okay to push my sister around, huh?” Trig’s voice vibrated with fury.

He looked like an actual weapon and Derek a baby who’d been sent into a war zone.

“Your…your sister?” Derek gasped, his wobbly cheeks reddening and spit catching in the corners of his mouth.

“Yeah, that’s right. So now you’ve got to explain yourself to me.”

“Trig.” Clarice dragged at his arm. Derek’s toes were only just touching the floor. If Trig lifted him any higher his neck would be in danger of breaking. “Please.”

“This asshole has been treating you like shit, Clarice. It’s time he apologized.”

“It’s okay, really.”

“No. It really isn’t.” He brought his face closer to Derek’s. “Say sorry.”

“For what?” Derek was breathless as he gripped Trig’s steel-hard forearms, his fingers digging into tanned flesh.

“Say sorry for being a pig.”

“She’s…she’s paid to work. I’m only…telling her…what to do.”

“She’s a woman, and women deserve respect.” Trig tightened his hold. “Which you don’t seem to have been giving.”

“Sorry…urgh!” Derek made a strangled sound, and his eyes appeared to be about to pop out of his head. Clearly, breathing was becoming an issue.

“Trig, bloody hell, stop it.” Clarice tugged at him again. “He’s said sorry now.”

“Get off me, Clarice.” And there it was, a voice that held a dangerous, dark tone that demanded obedience.

She’d heard his brothers use the exact same voice.

She stepped back. He glared at her, but it wasn’t anger in his eyes it was lust, thick and hot and brimming from the depths of his pupils.

A gasp caught in her throat. Her body remembering how he’d made her feel when they were naked and sweaty and his eyes had flashed the same way.

“Get your things,” he snarled. “We’re leaving.”

As suddenly as he’d grabbed Derek around the throat, he released him.

Derek doubled over, hauling in air.

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