Page 4

Chapter Four

Cleopatra

No, no, no. I cannot be kissing Blaze right now.

I shouldn’t even be here, alone in his hotel room. Why did I come to confront him, anyway? I knew this was going to happen, didn’t I?

If I were being as honest with myself as I demand my kindergarteners be with me when I ask who overfed the class Beta fish, Trixie, I’d be fessing up that I didn’t only think this would happen…

I was fantasizing it would.

He’s a bad boy, my relative. I shouldn't let him kiss me, but now his lips are one with mine- warm, firm, and desperately wanting more from me. When he kisses me, my knees go weak, and everything under my navel melts into oozy lava. He holds me closer, tighter against him, his hands warm, strong, and protective.

Punching hands .

Hands that rushed to defend my honor. I picture him as a knight, covered in metal and riding high on a horse, sword ready to—oh! There’s his sword, hard and drawn and ready, pressed against me, ready to?—

I will stop kissing him. Right now… In one minute… Before he slips his hand up my skirt?—

He moans into my mouth. “Damn, Cleopatra. You kiss like the queen you are.” Okay, I’ll let him kiss me, but I am not having sex with him. Not in this hotel room where he’s just had sex with another woman.

I will not degrade myself like that—oh my, his fingers are creeping up my inner thigh, touching me— there —lightly rubbing me over the gusset of my panties, and his tongue swipes against mine. So much need there. He wants me.

He kisses with the confidence of a presidential candidate. He’s damn good with his tongue, and he knows this.

And his fingers, too.

I try to hide a moan, but I can’t. I want to keep my hips from pushing against him, greedy for more, but I don’t. I need to get his hand out from under my dress, but I won’t. I shouldn't be melting into his touch, feeling the heat of his body so close to mine. I can't help it. His kisses are like a drug, intoxicating and addictive. I know I should push him away and remind him of the consequences of our actions.

But at this moment, with one hand tangled in my hair, exploring the messy teacher bun at the nape of my neck and his breath mingling with mine, the other hand pleasuring me over my dampening panties, all logic escapes me .

All I can think about is how my heart races when he's near and how my skin tingles at his slightest touch. And as much as I try to fight it, I know deep down that I want more.

“God, baby, I love the way you taste. Intoxicating.” He pulls back so he can run the tip of his expert tongue over my lips before dipping it back between them as he murmurs, “I need to taste you here.”

His fingers slip beneath the elastic band around the inner leg of my panties. My weak knees are now jelly as his bare skin touches mine. It feels fantastic, but I’m remembering the gorgeous brunette who just left this room and the sheets I saw, rumpled from their recent lovemaking.

Her perfume still lingers in the air. Expensive and stifling. Adding to that, Keith suddenly takes up residence in my head, saying, ‘He’s a family member. It isn’t right.’ Even Keith, the cheater-face knows this is wrong.

What am I doing?

I pull away.

“This isn’t going to happen.” I smooth my skirt back down, safe in my clothing. Maybe the Amish are onto something with their long dresses. I need more fabric between us. "We can't do this. We shouldn't be doing this." I wish I could be fully covered at the moment. Fabric from wrist to ankle, perhaps even one of those lovely bonnets reminiscent of Little House on the Prairie.

His eyes meet mine, and I can see a flicker of hesitation before it's replaced by determination. "I know you think we shouldn’t, but Cleo…" He pauses, running his fingers ge ntly down my cheek. "I like being with you. You know this about me. You’ve always known it."

“Really, Blaze? I’m sure you say that to all the girls!” I hold back an eyeroll.

I close my eyes, trying to quell the fluttering in my stomach. "We're family," I remind him, hoping to restore some sense to our thoughts.

“I’m not your dad,” he says in that wicked voice of his, dripping with the promise of earth-shattering orgasms. “But tonight, I can be your daddy.”

“Oh dear…” My face flushes with shame and desire, two emotions only Blaze can simultaneously evoke in me. “Blaze! Stop it.”

“Stop what? This?” His smirk deepens as he leans in for another kiss, his hand grabbing the back of my waist, pulling me closer to him. His hardness grinds against me, and it sends a bolt of electricity through my body.

As our lips meet again, the world around us fades away. It's just me, him, and the raw wanting between us. His tongue dances with mine, exploring every hidden corner of my mouth, making me feel desired in a way Keith never has.

However, with every passing second, the inner turmoil intensifies. The awareness that we were stepsiblings, betraying what was once considered family bonds, clashes with the intoxicating bliss brought on by him.

Despite his words about not being my dad, he was a protective older brother and a father figure to me for the short time we lived together, which I loved .

Otherwise?

We are total opposites. He was a slob. I move the toaster so I can get the crumbs underneath when I clean my countertops.

I had to teach the man how to load a dishwasher.

He was a party boy, staying out till all hours. A big Saturday night for me was romcoms and junk food in our living room, inviting a girlfriend to a sleepover if I was feeling especially social. My friends were members of the Key Club, volunteering for school and community events in their spare time.

Blaze and his gang of roguish bad boys? They spent their nights burning down the Bronx, leaving behind a trail of girls holding candles for them like a line of glowing embers in the wake of their wildness. I didn’t date in high school; instead, I held out for my knight in shining armor to whisk me away to my white-picket-fenced castle.

Now he’s finding his way back under the loose billowing fabric of my dress. Stroking up the soft skin of my inner thigh. Just like that day in the church.

He’s massaging the gusset of my panties. I can’t help but think back to that time we lived together, to that older, protective role he played for me. I got caught up in the moment, pretending he really was my brother.

Making this moment feel so wrong, so shameful, so forbidden. My breath hitches as he presses against the most sensitive part of me. The line between pleasure and intense longing becomes blurred, his touch igniting a fire within me only he can extinguish .

The last person on this planet I should be allowing to start any fires.

"Blaze, stop," I whisper, barely above a murmur. But there's no stopping him now. He pulls my dress up further, baring more of my skin to him. He continues his exploration, dipping below the damp fabric of my panties.

He finds the heat that's been building between my legs since he first kissed me. Of course, this brings me further shame and enhances his cockiness. “One kiss and your pussy gets this wet for me?” He sucks in air between his closed-tooth smile. “I can’t tell you how turned on that makes me.” Lubing his fingers with my arousal he finds my entrance, he pushes two fingers inside me at once, my skin stretching and burning with his touch.

The feeling of his fingers inside me is both exhilarating and terrifying. It's wrong, so wrong, but it feels so right. My heart is pounding so loudly in my ears, like the rhythm of a thousand drums playing.

I try to push him away, but he holds me tight to him, his fingers stroking inside me, his lips pressing harder against mine.

The intensity of the moment is overwhelming. My mind is screaming at me to stop, to push him away, but my body is responding to his touch in ways it never did for Keith.

As his fingers continue to stroke deeper inside me, I can't help but arch against him, craving more of his touch. I know this is wrong, that we should not be doing this, but my need is stronger than my sense of morals .

"Blaze," I finally manage to break away from the kiss with a gasp, my voice ragged with arousal and shame. "We can't do this."

Ignoring my protests, he leans back slightly to look into my eyes. "Baby," he growls, his voice thick with lust, "you want this just as much as I do.”

And in this moment, I realize he is right. I do want this. Wanted him from the very first moment our lips touched.

“It’s just like that day in the church." The memory, the reality, the dream I had last night, all mingle into the heat of this moment, raising the temperature in my body to inferno levels.

The memory of our naughty sex in the back of the church, combined with the fact that I think he’s just found my g-spot, is too much. I cry out, “Oh my God!” and let go of my inhibitions, losing myself in the feeling of his fingers, his hot breath on my skin, his closeness as his big, strong body curves around mine like a protective wall of heat and muscle.

“Come on, Cleo. Come for me, baby.”

A shudder tears through me. My fingers dig into his biceps as my eyes roll, my eyes squeezing shut. The back of my head bumps the wall, and my knees weaken as the first sign of orgasm floods me with heat and light. I hold him tight as he whispers to me, “There you go, baby. Let it all go.”

I’m panting, my breaths coming in short gasps as I clench and tighten around him, giving into the climax, absorbing the shockwaves of pleasure as they tear through me. “Blaze. Oh my God. ”

“I’d love to be your god.” He gives a dark chuckle, pulling his fingers from me as I collapse against the wall with a deep exhale. He presses against me, letting me feel how hard his cock is, how ready he is to sleep with me. “Let me take you to bed and you can worship me properly.”

I shake my head, trying to get hold of my emotions. “I can’t.”

Because the only thing I want more than not to be hurt again…

Is not to hurt him.

He talks a big sexy game, but I’m unsure if there are real feelings beneath his bravado. If there are, I don’t want things to progress; I don’t want to lead him on.

I move my hands to his shoulders, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “I’m sorry. I have to go.” I leave but I barely make it halfway down the hall when he grabs my hand, tugging me back toward his room, saying, “Stay.”

I made the mistake of locking gazes with him. The look he gives me almost makes me do as he asks. Almost. Instead, I tell him what I’ve already told him in the past, "You know I can’t do this taboo, forbidden—whatever this energy is between us.”

“Then why did you let me put my hand inside your panties?” His oozing voice liquid and sticky like honey.

I clear my throat and cross my arms over my chest, denying, “That was the wine.”

“One gulp?” One dark brow arches in disbelief .

“Yes. One gulp of wine. And I’m weak after a bad breakup.” I narrow my gaze. “Which you fully took advantage of!”

“Take advantage of you?” This seems to anger him. The seduction eases from his tone. He says, “I do everything I can to protect your ass. Which isn’t easy when you have zero street skills.”

“Protect me? You only went after Keith to get me over here. You set me up,” I murmur.

Dropping my hand, he raises both of his in surrender. Another gorgeous Amazon woman walks by, this one platinum blonde, taking a long, appreciative look at his half-naked physique.

He doesn’t even notice her.

Staring at me he begs, “I didn’t try to set you up, Cleopatra. I wouldn’t do that to you. I was trying to protect you from him.” Those big eyes flash back up to meet mine. “You know that, right?”

My heart pitters and patters in my chest. Finally, I’m able to choke out, “I have to go.”

“Where are you staying?” His face darkens. “And don’t lie to me. You are not going back to that asshole?—”

“I’m not,” I cut him off, lifting a hand. “I’m staying at my friend Seraphina’s.”

My protector forgets his mission at the mention of my striking friend. “The hot one?”

“You just had,”—the shameful words rush out—“you just had your fingers inside me, and now you’re calling my best friend hot?”

“What?” he shrugs, pleading his innocence. “I’m just saying what everyone is thinking. It’s the same as saying the sky is blue. Or admiring a sculpture. Doesn’t mean I’m jonesing.” To my heated shame, he changes the subject by bringing his fingers to his face and inhaling deeply. “You smell so good. I’m never washing this hand.”

I’ll never need blusher when I’m with him. “Stop. It.”

He gives an innocent shrug. “What? You’re the one with the intoxicating scent. I’m just enjoying.”

“I need to go,” I murmur, turning towards the end of the hall with the elevators. I’ve got to get out of here. My hand reaches for the strap of my bag, which sits on my shoulder. I clutch it, begging for the strength to walk down this hall, away from him. “I’m going to Seraphina’s now.”

“Seraphina,” he calls out. I hear his bare feet padding along the hallway as he jogs after me. “Seraphina is your friend with the cool job,” he says this time. “She’s a talented photographer. She travels a lot, right?”

I’m surprised. I turn to face him. “You remembered.”

“Yeah.” He runs a hand through his hair. “You light up when you talk about her. How could I not take notice?”

Didn’t know he did. Take notice of me that is.

What girl doesn’t want to hear an incredibly handsome man has been taking notes? Me. From him. I should not want this attention from him but I do. I’m practically his sister…ish. Platonic feelings and familial love is all I should feel .

Not these tingles of longing he’s bringing out in me with his admissions.

I swallow away the flattery. “Goodbye, Blaze. And please, make sure you eat some protein with all that whiskey. Order yourself a steak and a baked potato. Maybe a little steamed broccoli on the side.”

“Protein. Noted.” Strong fingers circle my wrist, sending sparks of electricity over my skin where he’s touching me. He tugs me back to him, asking, “When will I see you again?”

“It’s a big city.” We lock eyes. “You probably won’t.

We stand there momentarily, his hand on my wrist, our gazes tight. We have nothing in common but the tension between us. It’s proven strong enough to pull us together once more.

Strong enough to break one of us.

He lets me go.

I hold my breath all the way to the elevator, mashing the button with too much force. The doors open, and I face the back of the elevator as I enter, letting the doors close softly behind me before I turn.

My words are a whisper in the silent elevator. “I can’t believe I let myself make such a stupid mistake.”

Once I step outside the hotel, I take a huge breath of fresh, cool air. My comfy teacher clogs thump against the sidewalk as I hurry from the hotel back to Seraphina’s place. My head is spinning, flashes of the kiss playing repeatedly in my mind .

My lips are still tingling.

I lift my fingertips to my mouth, lightly brushing them over my skin. A small smile creeps onto my lips. My phone goes off, startling me out of my thoughts of Blaze.

I reach into my skirt pocket and pull out my phone. Seraphina texted me to hurry home for a snacky dinner and a strong drink. I quickly reply, thanks for knowing what I need, and rush the last three blocks to her building.

Back at her place, I change into comfy clothes and flop onto the sofa. Seraphina has donned stunning matching luxury loungewear in ivory. When she sits down, her arm brushes against mine; the soft material—must be cashmere—makes me wonder about the cost. I'm still in my pink elephant onesie pajamas, the ones that offended her earlier today.

“I totally embarrassed myself,” I tell her, gratefully accepting the pink Cosmo she hands me after. I’m careful not to spill on the freshly dry-cleaned throw pillows I just returned. “Seriously. I have no self-respect.”

She shoots me a look of reassurance. “Please. Don’t be hard on yourself. That man is a snack. No, a dessert. A three-layer salted caramel cake.” She sips her drink, then gives her lips a seductive lick. “Tasty.”

“Blaze or the drink?” I laugh.

“Both.” She sinks back into the pillows, pulling a colorful throw over her from the back of the sofa. “But he more than the drink, even though I make a mean Cosmo.”

“You do.” I take a big sip .

She’s made us a charcuterie board for dinner, one worthy of a picture from her professional camera. I grab a fig, layer it with a piece of sharp cheese, and then add a rosemary cracker underneath. I take a bite, enjoying the crunch, the bite of the cheese, and the sweetness of the fruit.

My eyes roll into the back of my head. “Oh, my gawd! This is delicious!”

“Tastier than that kiss you had earlier?” she teases.

Ignoring the comment, I pop the rest in my mouth, chewing delicately while I make her an identically layered cracker, handing it to her. “Try it.”

“Attempting to distract me from getting every single detail of your make-out with your older stepbrother? Not going to happen.” She bites into the food, nodding in agreement. “This combo is a damn good concoction, though. Nice work.” She finishes eating, brushes her fingers together, sips her drink, and says, “Spill the tea. Now, cutie.”

I should not have told her he called me that.

“Listen to this. I got to his hotel room, and it um… had recently used sheets?”

“He had another woman in there?” Seraphina screeches, almost spilling her drink as she sits up straight.

His skin still smelled of her perfume. I nod. “I saw the woman who left. She could have been here modeling for New York Fashion Week, but he didn’t even remember her name.”

I would never admit it was a turn-on for me.

He wants… me .

And the only thing exotic about me is my name.

I’m perfectly normal. Regular. Average. Possibly below average in a few departments.

Just… me.

I add, “It was humiliating. To be there kissing him moments after he kicked her out. I let myself—let him—let me get carried away.”

“Again,” she says. “Don’t feel bad. Any woman would find him sexy.”

“But I’m a relationship girl. I date to marry, unlike him, who—as I have very clearly heard him say in the past, and I quote, ‘dates to eff.’”

She shrugs. “He’s a playboy, a bad boy, a serial ‘eff’ boy. The perfect rebound.”

I shake my head. “I don’t think I could do a rebound without getting attached.”

“Smart girl.” My friend raises her glass to mine. “I like how well you know yourself.” She tilts her glass, letting its rim clink gently against mine. “To women who are true to themselves.”

“Cheers to us, and our futures.” I echo. I smile at her, then take a long sip of the strong, bright drink, letting the vodka swirl over my tongue. “Even though Keith has just raked me over the coals, I still believe in monogamy. I know there are happily ever afters out there. I want my white picket fence.”

“I know you do, girl. And you’ll have it one day. ”

Feeling tipsy, I giggle, “The only thing Blaze can consistently offer a girl is the best sex she will ever have.”

“And abs you could use as a charcutier board and a black Amex card.” She laughs.

We chat and eat, then bury ourselves under blankets and put on a romantic comedy we love to rewatch. As the couple finally comes together after a series of mishaps, they embrace one another, sharing a tender reunion kiss. As Seraphina and I dab tears from our eyes, I can’t help but think about my own future.

I want something Blaze is incapable of. Something I fooled myself into thinking I had with Keith…

Something neither one of those men will ever be able to give me.

True love.