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Stepbrother Charming(3)

By:Nicole Snow



I'm spinning, listening to people blabber drunkenly and laugh. The hard rock switches over to some techno stuff, and the lights go insane, doubling their speed. I'm not even wearing heels and I stumble, nearly losing my damned grip on the floor.

Plowing into the huge shadow in front of me feels like slamming into a brick wall. He reacts quickly.

His arms are around me in an instant. My cheeks burn first, and I've got about three seconds to figure out how I'm going to apologize for smacking into him before I look up. When I finally do, my heart stops.

It should've been predictable as hell, yeah, but when it happens, it doesn't soften the blow one bit.

I'm staring into Tyler Sterner's glacier blue eyes.

He looks at me for what feels like a whole minute as I start to stammer and tumble back. His lips – those evil, kissable, suckable lips! – pull up like horns, exposing some adorable dimples on his cheeks. Who knew Prince Charming had the devil's smile?

“Shit, babe, you look like you've never been out on the club floor before. You had one too many, or what?” He steps close to me again, throws his hands around my waist, and jerks me close like we've already been intimate. “What's the matter? Don't tell me I'm right. Can't believe an ass like yours doesn't have a few good moves.”#p#分页标题#e#

My mouth drops. I try to speak, but the words won't come. Flushed, stunned, infuriated doesn't begin to describe the shock turning my blood to ice.

I can't believe these are his first words to me – his only words – if I have anything to say about it.

“Come the fuck on,” he growls, starting to grind and sway with the music. “Move with me, baby. I wanna see everything shake through that thing you've got on. I like to see what I'll be bouncing later when I'm balls deep inside you.”

Jesus, and here I thought Dana's new buddy was way too forward. My brain can't process what's happening, and my confusion rolls out in a laugh.

I start laughing and try to double over, but he's holding me too tight. I hate admitting the asshole's hands feel good on me, but I guess that's part of the charm. If you can call it that – my Prince is about as charismatic as a swamp toad.

Does he seriously think he's too good to skip cheesy pickup lines? Does he always just jump right into how he's going to fuck a girl?

“What's so goddamned funny?” He says, that stupid sexy smile on his face finally pointing down. “Don't tell me you've been hitting E or some crap. We don't allow that shit here. Listen, I'll toss your ass out and find whoever the fuck sold it to you if that's why you're laughing your damned ass –“

I slap his chest. “I'm laughing at you, idiot. And I've had exactly one Long Island iced tea this evening. Not exactly an illegal substance, last time I checked.”

“Whatever. You here to laugh your pretty head off or dance? I'll even forgive the idiot remark if you shake it like I think you can. You've got the right stuff, babe.” He stares me up and down like I'm a piece of meat, making zero effort to stop his eyes from lingering on my cleavage.

He bends me around in his arms, making me do a turn so he can get a perfect view of my ass. I've never felt completely undressed by a man until now.

The smart thing to do is target his face with my next slap. But his hands zip down my back and cup my ass, giving it a sharp squeeze, perfectly timed to the way the music starts to throb again.

Asshole! I shoot him a furious look, but it's really directed inward. I can't believe my body purrs happily with the raw, caveman way he's grabbing my goods. I don't understand what the hell he's doing to me.

I jerk backward, breaking his grip. Tyler laughs, marches forward, and grabs me by the wrist as I'm trying to get away. “Okay, okay. We'll take it slower, beautiful. Give me another try. I'll keep my hands off anything hanging like ripe fruit while we're on the floor. Promise. That shit can wait 'til later when I've got you all alone.”

My hand twitches in his, hungry to deliver the slap that'll get me the hell out of this place. Of course, I don't do it. His smile draws me in, and I catch Dana out of the corner of my eye, pressed up against the emo boy with her lips on his.

Sigh. I slip back into his kinder, gentler grip and start to sway my hips, about the most conservative tempo anybody can keep to match the song. I try to keep my breasts and hips well away from direct contact with his washboard body.

“I'm Ty,” he says after a minute. “This place belongs to the family, in case you didn't know why everybody's making room for us.”

I blink and look around while he folds his arms around me. Crap, I hadn't even noticed. It's true. Half the people are gawking right at us, like we're skating on ice. Half the guys look fearful, or else so jealous they're about to hit the ground and worship us.

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