Ruined By My Stepbrother novel · Chapter 4 of 32

Chapter 4: Frankie Knows

"I know who she married," I said.

Then I kissed him anyway.

The tap was still running over his wrist.

He made a sound low in his chest, and his free hand came up and caught my jaw.

He kissed me back hard, the way he had in the deck chair.

I backed him into the steel prep table.

The pans on it rattled.

His burned hand stayed obediently under the water, and the other one slid down my back and pulled me in by the apron strings.

I tugged the strings loose myself.

I wanted his hand under my shirt, and it went there, flat and hot on my bare stomach.

My kitchen smelled like brown butter and bleach.

I'd never kissed anyone in it but Dane.

I bit Barrett's lip for that, and he groaned into my mouth.

His thumb moved up along my ribs, slow, to the edge of my bra.

Then he stopped.

His whole body stopped, the way it had when my mother called his name.

He took his mouth off mine and rested his forehead against my forehead, breathing hard.

"Not like this," he said.

"Like what?"

"Like you're kissing me because he was standing at your pass ten minutes ago."

I shoved his chest.

He let me.

The water was still running, splashing his shirt.

I turned it off so hard the faucet squealed.

"Get out of my kitchen."

"Hattie..."

"Put burn cream on that. Be here at two tomorrow. Get out."

He picked up his knife roll and walked out the back door.

He shut it quietly, which was worse than if he'd slammed it.

I stood in my kitchen with my apron hanging off one hip and my mouth still hot.

Across the street, the lights on Brine's roof were still on.

Monday, Frankie came in at noon with her laptop under her arm.

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