Wrecked: A Stepbrother Romance Novel by Arabella Abbing Read Free Book Online Page B

suddenly felt a chill run up my spine that I knew had nothing to do with the cold winter air outside.
    Brandon had obviously made his way back into the crowded room and I could feel his stare on the back of my head. I forced a smile as I accepted my drink and purposely walked away, refusing to glance back and see if my assumption was correct.
    The hallway leading down to the wine cellar was empty, but the soft squeak of men’s dress shoes behind me was confirmation enough. I forced myself not to look back and just kept walking until I rounded the corner and broke into as much of a jog as I could in these damn heels.
    The footsteps picked up and before I could pull open the door to the cellar, a warm hand was spinning me around and pinning my wrist to the door.
    I dared a look up into his eyes, unable to tear my gaze away once it locked with his. There was nothing pleasant about the way he stared down at me—a scowl marring his handsome face and anger simmering behind those damn blue eyes of his.
    “Were you planning to avoid me all night?”
    His question broke whatever trance I’d been in and I jerked my wrist hard, trying to pull away from his grip. “ Me? You wouldn’t even look at me during the ceremony.”
    Fucking hell , he got strong.
    When I tried to use my other hand to pry his fingers from my wrist, he used his free hand to pin my other wrist against the door as well, then pressed his newly-muscle torso against me, immediately stilling my struggles.
    “I’m looking at you now.”
    “I have no idea why. You’re clearly finished with me.”
    Brandon laughed—a hollow, humorless sound that struck a nerve somewhere deep inside that I was afraid to address. The smile didn’t touch his eyes and faded away as he slowly shook his head back and forth.
    “Don’t do that. Don’t act like I didn’t give you multiple chances.”
    I rolled my eyes and pushed my chest against him, some small part of me enjoying the way he sharply inhaled and pulled away, even if it was only a few inches. He was staring at me incredulously when I decided to push him even further.
    I lifted a leg and hitched it around his hip, pulling his pelvis flush against mine. It wasn’t the first time I’d felt the heavy weight of his hardness pressed against me, but it was the first time that I felt no traces of awkwardness from being in this position.
    Brandon leaned forward, his mouth parted and eyes closed as he let out a shaky breath. Before I could comprehend what was happening, our lips were mashed together, tongues tangling in a duel more heated than ever before. It took every ounce of self-control not to push him away and rip off his dress pants, but there was still a logical—not to mention sober—part of my brain that told me to stop.
    When I pulled back, his eyes opened, looking more shocked than I expected. I grinned at him triumphantly and said, “How about one more?”
    His nostrils flared as the anger started to return. “ No. You don’t want me. You don’t give a fuck about me. You only want me now because I look… different.”
    My eyebrows raised in surprise at the accusation. “I’m not going to argue about you looking different, but you’re wrong about the rest.” A sly smile appeared on my lips and I leaned closer to him. “How about I show you just how much I want you?”
    Brandon jerked away like he’d been burned, glaring at me so hatefully that I felt like I was getting whiplash from his abrupt mood swings. I frowned and raised my hands in the air, trying to figure out what the fuck was going on while he scrubbed a hand over his face.
    “I’m not doing this with you. I… I’m seeing someone. I don’t know why I even followed you. God —I’m such a fucking idiot,” he ended with a whisper, speaking more to himself than to me.
    “Brandon...”
    He held up a finger, looking at me sharply. “Don’t. Don’t do this to me again.”
    “Do what? ”
    “Don’t fuck around with my head!” he yelled,