Page 8 of Beautiful Desire (Blossom Beach #3)

Fletcher

T his is such bullshit .

“Are you listening to anything I’m saying?” Georgia asks, a bite to her tone as I feel her eyes burning a hole in the side of my head.

“Yes, Georgia,” I huff out, turning to meet her narrowed gaze. “I hear you. How could I not?”

It’s day one of this stupid fucking job, and I already hate it.

We’ve been standing in front of this cash register for the last twenty minutes while she explains how to use it, like it’s really that hard.

I’ve managed entire teams, ran board meetings, and dealt with multi-million-dollar properties before.

I think I can handle ringing somebody up for a fucking book.

The fact that I’m even here, forced to work in a place like this , when clearly, I’m way overqualified, is infuriating.

I’m a businessman, for Christ’s sake, not a cashier in a bookstore.

This is an egregious waste of my time. I should be in Charleston right now, getting ready for my final semester of college and prepping to become partner at St. James Properties, a position that’s been promised to me since I was a kid.

But nooo . Instead, I’m being made to look like a fool as I stand here and listen to my obnoxious and crass stepsister teach me how to find a book in her system by searching the number on the stupid fucking barcode.

What a fucking joke.

And of course, my father thinks it’s a great fucking idea. “Do what Georgia thinks is best, Fletcher” were his exact words. It’s horse shit. Fuck them both.

“All right, then, rich boy.” Amusement curls her lips and wrinkles her forehead as she steps back from the computer. Grabbing a book from the counter behind her, Georgia hands it to me—or rather, shoves it into my chest. “Prove it. Show me how you’d find this one in the system.”

Taking the book from her, I clench my jaw and position myself in front of the screen.

Annoyance lances through my chest as I find my way back to where she was.

It takes a couple of tries because she closed out of the software before she stepped back.

I can feel her gaze on the side of my head again, and it’s aggravating.

She’s aggravating.

Clearly, this little fucking bookstore she runs has gone to her head because she walks around with a chip on her shoulder, acting as if people should be tripping over their own feet to do what she says.

She may be older than me, but that doesn’t mean she gets to be an asshole and boss me around like I’m some fucking child.

After a minute, I find my way back to the screen Georgia had open before.

There’re so many options, and I’m trying to remember which one she had pulled up, but it’s confusing.

My heart pounds in my ears as beads of sweat line the back of my neck.

Sure, I probably could’ve paid a little more attention when she was rambling on, but like hell am I admitting that to her.

Thinking I finally found the right button to select, I toggle the mouse over it and click, but just as I do, I feel the heat from Georgia’s breath fan my neck as she crowds me, bringing her mouth up to my ear.

“Wrong button.” I can hear the amusement in her tone, and it has the edges of my vision going red.

“I know you think you’re above all this, rich boy, but you’re not.

” Coming up beside me, Georgia uses her elbow to shove me out of the way.

“Whether you like it or not, this is your reality for the next however long you’re here, so I’d suggest swallowing that pride of yours and paying attention, because you’re going to feel awfully stupid if you fuck up when a customer is in front of you. ”

She rips the book out of my hand and gets right back to explaining how to use the system.

This time, I listen, even if what I really want to do is storm out of this fucking store—and this town—and never see her again.

What’s more annoying than her bitchy attitude and her thinking she can boss me around is how fucking sexy she is when she does it.

How is it possible to be furious and turned on at the same time? That’s fucked up.

Walking me through the program a couple more times, Georgia lets me take over, and I even manage to successfully ring up a few customers.

She must be satisfied with my progress, because after about twenty minutes, she walks around the counter and says, “I’ll have you continue to work the register while I make a bank run.

” Nodding toward the back, she adds, “You should be fine while I’m gone, but Hazel’s back there if you run into any issues. ”

I grit my teeth and nod. “Got it, ma’am .”

The sardonic smile she gives me as she walks off both grates on my nerves and has my heart kicking up speed.

Despite my best efforts to forget it ever happened, my mind drifts back to when she informed me I was going to be working here a few days ago.

Anger swirls around in my gut like a ball of fire all over again, like I’m right back in her living room, listening to her berate me.

There was never any asking if I wanted to work here, or even giving me the option to find something else around town that may interest me more.

No, she told me what I was going to do. Then when she demanded I address her as “ma’am” in front of her sisters and that fucking giggly friend of hers.

If Georgia thinks her little attitude is going to stop me, she clearly has no clue who she’s dealing with.

My dad is ten times the asshole she is, and I was raised by him, so I can deal with her with my eyes closed.

I’ll be damned if I allow her to prove my dad right about me.

I will make it through this year, even if it fucking kills me, if only to look my father in the eye when it’s over and show him how wrong he was about me.

Which is exactly why I showed up at this goddamn store today, even though everything inside of me was screaming to tell her and my dad to fuck off.

I hate how much I need the carrot he’s dangling over my head.

As if what he’s doing isn’t fucked up enough, he just had to pick the one infuriating person I’ve had the hots for since I was a teenager.

She’s my stepsister and the last person I should be attracted to, but it’s always been that way.

It doesn’t make any sense. I’ve been with my fair share of women, and not a single one of them would be considered loud or domineering.

That isn’t my type…like, at all. In fact, my preference tends to lean more toward quiet, meek women.

Somebody who wants to be told what to do. A woman who enjoys making me happy.

Georgia is the polar opposite of what I’m into, so I don’t understand this attraction.

And I definitely don’t understand the way my body reacted to her the other day.

It was crystal clear she wasn’t backing down, with her brow cocked, arms crossed, nearly distracting me with her huge tits pressed together, and the corner of her mouth twitching ever-so-slightly, daring me to argue with her.

I was done for by the time she uttered “good boy.” An onslaught of arousal flooded my system, and I still don’t know how I made it back to my room without any of them spotting the imprint of my very hard erection against my leg.

Those two words and the condescending way she spoke them filled me with such a raw, carnal need; it burned through me like molten lava.

I barely had enough time to shut the door before my shorts were shoved down and I was wrapping a tight fist around my throbbing cock.

My release barreled through me with such urgency and force, I had to bite down on my lip so hard I tasted copper, just to stifle the groan that clawed up my throat.

And now, here we are again… Georgia, being a patronizing fucking bitch, and me, simultaneously pissed off and foaming at the mouth because of it.

Make it make sense.

After she grabs whatever she needs from the back, I can’t help but watch as she walks through the store toward the front door.

Shoulders back and her head held high, she’s a force.

Confidence oozes from her pores, and the sweet smile she gives customers as she catches their eye is radiant, lighting up the whole room.

The high-waisted jeans and white crop top she’s wearing show off her soft, voluptuous figure, and the white Nike’s on her feet, with the slight platform, accentuate her long legs.

Georgia isn’t small by any means, only an inch or two shorter than my six-foot stature, but she wears it exceptionally well.

Her brown hair hangs down her back in loose curls, coming to a stop right above her round ass, which I can’t help but notice—and appreciate.

I just fucking know grabbing onto an ass like that while balls deep in her tight, hot cunt would be heavenly.

“Uh, hello?” Turning my head, I find a hot blonde standing at the counter in front of me, a stack of books in hand as she smiles over at me.

Damn. I didn’t even hear her approach because I was zoning out and fantasizing about fucking my stepsister .

What the hell is wrong with me? Pull it together, Fletcher.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. Just need to check out.

” She giggles as she sets the books down in front of her.

Clearing my throat, I take everything from her and set them down beside the register. “Find everything okay?”

“I did. Thank you for asking.” Tilting her head to the side, her blue eyes sparkle as they hold my gaze. “Are you new? Don’t think I’ve ever seen you in here before.”

“First day, actually.” I flash her a toothy grin, my eyes raking down the front of her, before coming back up to her face. “How am I doing?”

Her lips curl into a flirty smirk as she, too, gives me a once-over. “Zero complaints from here.”

“Oh, is that right?”