Page 75 of Stepbrothers

“I don’t want a coffee. I’ll see you around, okay.” With a sudden rush of energy, she turned and took three fast paces to the door. Yanked at the handle.

A big hard body slammed against hers, and a palm slapped between door and frame.

“What the hell is going on, Clarice?”

The pure, undiluted anger in Hugh’s tone had her quivering. “Let me go.”

“No.” He was breathing hard against the side of her head. All remnants of sleepiness gone.

“Hugh.”

He pulled at her bag, tossed it to one side, then spun her to face him. “What have we done?”

“Nothing.” She gestured to her bag. “I want to go.”

“You didn’t want to go last night, or this morning. What has changed?”

“Please.” Her eyes stung with tears again. She wanted him so badly and she didn’t want to hurt him. Not ever.

“Clarice.” He pinched her chin and forced her to look up at his face. “Talk to me.” His eyes burned with emotion, and his features were tight. “Please.”

“I have to go. I can’t stay here. Not with you and Parker, not when we…”

“We what?” His lips twitched.

“Fuck. When we fuck. It’s wrong. It’s sick and—”

“Sick?” He jerked his head back, as though he’d been slapped.

Good, she had his attention. “Yes, sick.” Anger and shame warred with her arousal. “I have to go.” She pushed at his chest, but it was like trying to shove away a boulder. “I can’t stay here.”

“You’re going nowhere.”

“I am. I’m going home.” She was shouting now. “I have to get away from you and Parker, away from this.”

Suddenly, he stepped back, his arms at his sides. Pain seared over his eyes.

Clarice hated herself for putting it there, but she didn’t stick around to witness another moment of it. She grabbed her bag, turned, opened the door, and rushed out.

It slammed behind her, and she raced to the elevator and stabbed the button. Her breaths were coming fast, and her heart beat so wildly her chest was tight. A tear escaped and rolled down her left cheek. She dashed it away and wiped it on her dress.

The elevator came, and she got in feeling like she was being torn in two.

But just as the doors were an inch from closing, a hand reached through.

The metal doors retracted again, quickly.

“Hugh, no, let me go.” She backed up to the corner of the elevator.

“Not until we talk about this.” Before she could evade him, he reached for her wrist and tugged her from the lift.

“Get off me.” She tore at his fingers. Trying to peel back his grip. “Leave me be.”

“You’re coming back to the apartment and you’re going to tell me who has been filling your head with this nonsense.”

“It isn’t nonsense, it’s the truth. We have to face up to it.” She slapped at his shoulder. Once, twice, three times.

“Stop that,” he snarled menacingly.

---