Mine: A Stepbrother Romance: (With bonus novel Bossy!) (43 page)

Whatever. I rub my chin just to placate him, and as expected, it makes the little bastard grin.

I look at Dad. “Are we done?”

Cooper scowls at me, at Claire and then back to my father. “Today was obviously a waste of my time, but I expect a full report in my inbox by tomorrow morning. If it’s not there to my satisfaction, you’ll be hearing from me. Come on, Mitchell.” And with that, he storms out of my office, followed by his lackey.

The three of us watch them leave, and as soon as they step into the elevator, Dad speaks, “If I
ever
have to do this again, you’re both on your asses out of here. The only reason you’re still here is because I can’t punch him myself. I’m regretting ever taking his case, but that doesn’t mean that you are free to clown around. Is. That. Clear?”

“Like crystal, Dad.”

“Yes, Sir.” Claire’s head is bowed and her hands are fidgeting. “Thank you.”

He gives us both a stern look. “I’ve always wondered what it would’ve been like to have had more children, but I never expected to find out at this age.”

“Y
ou’re sure this is ‘dignified’ enough?” I put my hair up in a ponytail before I pry up the top of the paint tin with one of my keys. “Because maybe we need to go back and look at paint samples some more. I’m not sure you used enough time on it.”

Declan’s moving furniture away from the walls, and doesn’t bother looking at me. “Shut up. It’s important. It sets the tone for the whole room.”

I sit back and watch him. Somehow, someway, we both managed to screw up so royally that our disasters seem to have negated each other. I was ready to hate him for life, but now? It’s easy and comfortable. Like we’ve come through a storm together and—for the moment at least—the skies are clear. 

“Were the donuts for me?”

He’s quiet, but eventually grunts an affirmative. “Don’t read too much into it. I just... it wasn’t supposed to be like that, you know?”

“Uh.” I gesture around the room. “I got a dose of that myself today, remember? God, never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined it going down like that.”

He turns to me with a grin on his face, and the awful truth hits me right in the chest. I’m falling for this guy.

“I’ll show you going down,” he teases.

“Shut up.” I giggle softly. “Seriously though, I almost cost you your job, and I’m sorry about that.”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t, and what I did on Friday was a dick move, so... I’m sorry too.” He coughs and turns away to start masking the edges, like admitting that wasn’t easy. “The important thing is, we’re still here. I think that deserves some sort of fucking celebration. What do you say we hit the bar when we’re done and grab a drink together?”

“Sure, I’d love—” Shit, I’ve got my ‘date’ with Michael tonight. “I would really like to, but not tonight. I’ve got something else going on.”

He cocks his head, arching a brow like he doesn’t quite believe me. Then he starts unbuttoning his shirt. “Okay.”

My mouth drops open as he starts to strip. “What the hell are you doing?” The last time stripping happened in his office, not much work got done. “We don’t have time to fool around!”

Declan’s blue eyes darken, and his grin gets predatory. “Naughty girl. You want to fool around? I just didn’t want to risk spilling paint on my clothes. They’re new. But if you’re offering...” He drops a dry roller on his desk before he tugs his shirt off. His undershirt follows, revealing his bright ink, one design at a time, as he peels it off. He flashes a cocky smirk as he tosses the white fabric aside. Then he flexes, making his tattoos dance. “Like what you see, babe?”

God, yes, I do, but I can’t tell him that or there wouldn’t be room for the two of us
and
his ego. We’re just getting back to something resembling okay, and I don’t want to screw it up. Besides, with Michael’s blackmail hovering over me, I’ve got bigger things to worry about. So instead of admiring him, I turn away. “Let’s just get the painting done, alright?”

“Oh, come on. Are you going to play shy with me? Babe, I’ve seen your ass from more angles than a protractor.”

I slap my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing. “Nerd.”

“Hey, I’m not just a pretty face.” A sound draws my glance. He’s unbuttoning his pants. Oh this is going to be difficult. I can’t help but peek while he lets his pants drop, revealing the toned length of his muscular legs. “The rest of me is pretty too.” He looks up quickly, catching me watching and grins. “See? There you are.”

I shake my head. “Nope! I’m just here to paint. I told you, I’ve got somewhere to be afterwards.” I dip my roller in the tray and pointedly start applying it on the opposite side of the room from him.

He doesn’t take the hint, appearing next to me with nothing but a paint roller and his briefs. I try to remain unaffected by the fact that he’s nearly naked, but it’s hard when he’s so close. “So what, are you going on a date? Are you messing around on me, Claire?” His voice is light, but I get the feeling my answer is important to him.

“None of your business.” I move down the wall away from him, starting a new patch of deep red.

Of course he follows. “What if I wanted it to be?”

My heart jumps. “Are you asking me out?”
Please say no. Please say yes.

“No, of course not.” He laughs, and I’m relieved, mostly. “I’m speaking purely hypothetically.” For a while he paints quietly next to me, then he stops. “You know, I bet I’m—hypothetically—a lot more fun. I bet the other guy wouldn’t stand next to you painting in just his underwear, looking fucking fantastic.”

I sigh. Mostly because he’s right. There’s nothing hypothetical about Declan being better and more fun than Michael. They aren’t even in the same league. Besides, he’s taller than me, and every time I paint downwards, it’s impossible to not sneak a peek at his bulge. Which does actually look fucking fantastic. “None of your business.”

He mimics my voice. “None of your business. You can do better than that. Where’re your biting replies, huh? Your witty repartee? We’re going to be here for several hours. Might as well make the most of it.”

“I just want to get this done, Declan. I think between the weekend and today, my brain is going to be pickled from the fumes.”

He shrugs. “Yeah, I suppose. It’s almost too bad we have to re-paint. For what it’s worth, if I wasn’t on the receiving end of all this? I would have laughed my ass off. You’ve set the new bar.”

“You’re not pissed?” I don’t like comparing them, but Michael would have been furious at me for weeks, if not forever. He can’t stand being the butt of any sort of joke.

Declan chuckles, his six-pack flexing. “When I walked in? Oh holy shit yeah. When I saw that dipshit Cooper lose it, and I was sure the whole contract had just gone down the crapper and my career with it? Fuck, I wanted to strangle you, but he’s the one who tipped me over the edge. Piece of shit, no respect, limp-dicked little rat.” He stops and takes a deep breath, letting it back out slowly “But you, you get an A for execution. It was fucking perfect. Did you seriously do all this yourself?”

I can’t help grin a little. “I’ll never tell.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think so. Fucking Carl.”

“You don’t know that! You can’t say anything!” The last thing I want to do is get Carl in trouble too.

He smirks at my panic. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me. He’d be an idiot not to help you with a plan like this.”

“Well, glad you approve.” I give him a little bump with my shoulder. When he’s like this, he’s almost likeable. It’s no wonder my feelings are all mixed up. Still, what Carl said the other day was true. Declan can barely admit to feelings other than lust, and I want more than that.

Right?

For a while we manage to paint together in surprisingly comfortable silence. Then he inches closer, almost literally painting me into a corner. “You know,” he starts, “It would be a shame if you got paint on that nice dress.”

“Yeah, right. I’m sure you’re really concerned about my clothes.” I roll my eyes and keep painting.

He moves closer. “Alright, no actually. I just want to see you naked, or as close to it as I can get. Fuck, look at the show you’re getting.” He gestures at himself. “Fucking great, right? The least you could do is give me a little in return.” With a flex for emphasis, he twists his body to show himself off.

“Modest much? I’ve seen it all before.” I turn away so he won’t see me blushing. I’ve seen it, touched it, licked it and God help me, if I keep looking at him I’m going to want to do it all again. Just thinking about it is already getting me all hot and bothered.  “If you want to get naked, that’s your business. I’m keeping my clothes on, thank you very much.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Duly noted.” A short pause, and then he shifts even closer, standing right next to me. I can smell his aftershave, and feel the heat from his skin. He’s still painting, but it’s on top of what I just painted. I arch a brow at him. “You know, I already covered that bit.”

“Oh really?” He makes it sound like he hasn’t even noticed. “You’re so blindingly beautiful that it’s hard for me to concentrate.”

“Of course.” I can’t help smiling at the compliment. “If I’m so distracting, maybe you should work over there instead.” With a gesture, I shoo him away.

He doesn’t bite. “That’s a nice outfit you’ve got on, lady.” His tone’s like a bad movie mafioso. “It’d be a shame if something should, you know, happen to it. I’m not a bad painter, but accidents happen. Just saying.”

I’m too amused to really be angry. “Are you threatening my dress? This is extortion!”

“Hey, now. That’s your word not mine. I’m just being neighborly and showing my concern.” He waves his roller for emphasis.

I jump out of the way, laughing nervously. “Put that down!”

“Is that really what you want?” Declan takes a step closer, and the tension in the air starts to crackle between us. “Tell me you wouldn’t rather be naked with me. Tell me you aren’t picturing it right now.”

My tongue darts out between my lips, and in my head I’m doing exactly what he wants and loving every minute of it. My life is so complicated right now, but...

We’ve already crossed that line, twice even.

How much more complicated could one more time make it?

B
iting my lip, I reach behind to unhook the top of my dress. The hungry look on Declan’s face makes my fingers shake, but I manage it finally. We watch each other in weighty silence, his eyes on my face, studying my reactions. I almost wish he was just looking at my legs or my breasts, because this feels more intimate. He’s not just after my body. He’s focused on
me.

Pushing that confusing thought aside, I slide my zipper down, splitting the dress open behind me. With a deep breath, I let my dress fall off my shoulders.

The soft fabric slides smoothly over my skin, catching on my hips. I wiggle to get it off, self-conscious about the extra jiggle my donut habit has contributed to my figure. My dress lands in a pool around my feet, before I pick it up and drape it over the couch. I’m acutely aware of his eyes following me as I move.

“Much better.” His voice is oddly breathless and his—oh God, he’s getting hard. His cock lengthens and makes its presence known, tenting his tight, black boxer briefs.

I snatch up my roller, holding it like a sword between us as he takes a step towards me. “Hey, I only agreed to take my dress off. We have an office to paint. It was the practical choice.”

He doesn’t stop. “A little paint never hurt anyone.” With a grin, he wraps his fingers around my wrist, pushing the roller up and out of the way. “It’ll get done... eventually.”

I back up, but my arm hits wet sticky paint on the wall behind me and I realize he has me trapped. I can’t lie. I do want this, but it makes me nervous.
He
makes me nervous.

Declan moves until he’s so close his bare torso brushes against my breasts. He puts a red-stained finger under my chin and angles my head up. I have to lean towards him just to keep my hair from getting stuck in the paint. He’s right there, lips so close it would only take the smallest movement to bring us together.

He kisses me, and I forget all about the paint. He presses closer, the hardness in his briefs a burning brand against my stomach. A low needy sound rumbles in his chest, and he grabs the back of my head, crushing me to him, his other hand slapping against the wall behind me for support.

The roller drops from my fingers, leaving a red streak across his thigh. Reaching up, my fingers twine into his unruly hair, gripping it and pulling him closer while our lips press against each other.

I walk him backwards, away from the wall, and his hands trail down my sides until they slide around the curves of my ass. I can only imagine the burgundy streaks they must be leaving in their wake. His strong fingers dig into my flesh and I grind against him, my underwear growing wet and sticky, but not from the paint.

I gasp into his mouth as our bodies meld. A moment ago I was nervous about my lack of clothes. Now it feels like we’re both wearing way too much.

My hand cups his bulge. “These are very nice briefs.” My words come out as a whisper.

He laughs softly, then answers teasingly, “Yeah? Do you think something might happen to them?”

“It would be a shame.” I slide a finger into the slit at the front, making him hiss with pleasure as I stroke him skin to skin.

We’re both going to be covered in streaks of paint, but I don’t care. There’s something primal about visually leaving my mark on him, and knowing he’s claimed me right back. Like he’s reading my mind, he paints a stripe around my throat, collaring me in red. Marking me as his.

A quick movement and he wraps a fist firmly around my hair and tugs, making me gasp. He leans back in, and when his lips touch mine, I meet his questing tongue with my own. My bra goes slack as he unlatches it, pushing my straps down one side at a time

He pulls away, and my arms relax, letting him take my bra with him. Standing there topless, I feel awkward again. I raise an arm to cover myself up, reaching for him with the other so he’s too close to see me on display. The lights are too bright, and my breasts are too soft, and—