Page 20 of Little Stranger

His brows knit together, the hardness of his cock poking my thigh, and he grabs my wrist and pulls my hand from his mouth then snatches my face, attempting to kiss me again, but as his lips layer over mine, I move my head to the side. “No, Malachi.”

Yes, Malachi.

Keep going, Malachi.

Take, Malachi.

Why am I like this?

He sits up, pissed off and still hard as a rock, and just when he goes to sign, I sit up too and turn away from him. “Let’s just go to sleep,” I say, turning off the torch so we’re bathed in darkness. “We’re obviously not thinking straight.”

But the torch is flicked back on, and I freeze when Malachi grabs my throat and pulls me up to my knees in front of him—my airway cut off. There’s pressure behind my eyes, and my lungs struggle for air. He releases me, but I stay put, trembling from the orgasm, the fear, and the need for him totake.

Don’t silence me like that, he signs furiously.Don’t ever fucking silence me, Olivia.

My brow furrows in confusion. “I… I didn’t.”

He points to the torch.I can’t fucking talk to you if you can’t see me.

My facial expression softens. “Oh,” I say, rubbing my throat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I did that. Just… We can’t kiss—it’s not what siblings do. Regardless of what just happened. Please don’t make this awkward.”

I don’t move away as he yanks me to him by my hair, my breasts pressing to his naked chest.

You used to always kiss me.

“When we were kids, and the kisses were innocent. No, Malachi.”

No? You just—He stops, confused as he drops his hands, not knowing what else to say.

“Mom has me going on dates with guys for me tomarrythem, Malachi. I can’t chance being caught kissing you.”

You aren’t fucking marrying anyone.

As much as I want to really, really kiss him, it would be a colossal blunder. My lips are crackling from the soft brush of his mouth against mine, electricity zapping all over my body from the way he grabbed my face and then my throat, but if I didn’t just stop him, we would’ve made a huge,hugemistake.

“We can’t,” I whisper. “You’re Malachi Vize and I’m Olivia Vize. We’re sister and brother.”

Stop saying that.We aren’t blood related. You aren’t my real sister, so what’s the goddamn problem?

For some reason, those words sting, and my eyes burn as I pull the sleeping bag around my nakedness. “This was a mistake.”

“Are they already sleeping?” I hear Mom’s voice coming closer, and I rush to grab my clothes and throw them on, Malachi just staring at me, not bothering to put his own clothes on as the footsteps draw closer.

I dive into the sleeping bag in a panic, my heart beating so fast while I pretend to be passed out.

“Are you guys asleep?”

I peek at my brother as she tries the zip—I didn’t notice he’d put a small padlock in place to stop it from being opened. Malachi’s eyes are on me—I can tell he’s mad, even with the torchlight down to the lowest setting and shining on half of his handsome face. His hands are fisted, and his cheeks are red, the rigid length between his legs still masted.

He just tried to kiss me, and I refused him.

I’m already regretting this entire night.

The footsteps leave again. “They must be asleep. Since when are we the ones staying up late? Grab the beers!”

Dad chuckles deeply, and I grimace when I hear them kissing.

Then their tent zips sounds, and silence falls again.

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