MY STEPBROTHER'S OBSESSION

CHAPTER 2

SCARLETT

I headed to the restroom to fix my makeup, but my mind kept drifting back to Damien. My body reacted before my brain could catch up, a throb of heat between my thighs that made me bite my lip. But the feeling vanished the second I saw him in the mirror.

Damien Cross. Walking into the girls' restroom like he owned it. Locking the door behind him with a deliberate click.

My heart slammed against my ribs as I whipped around to face him.

He stood there with his hands buried in his pockets, that infuriating smirk playing on his lips like he'd already won some game I didn't know we were playing.

"What… what are you doing here?" I stammered, hating how weak my voice sounded.

He didn't answer. Just started walking toward me, slow and predatory, until I stumbled backward against the sink. Nowhere left to go.

"Have you thought about what I told you?" His voice was low, dangerous.

Before I could process what was happening, his arm wrapped around my waist, anchoring me in place. His other hand traced up my side, agonizingly slow, until he reached the hem of my shirt. Then higher. Until his palm cupped my breast through the thin fabric.

He squeezed gently.

My breath hitched. Heat flooded through me, pooling low in my belly. My body betrayed me completely, wetness gathering between my thighs from nothing but his touch.

"I… I…" The words died in my throat, replaced by a soft moan I couldn't swallow back.

"Just what I thought."

He pulled his hand away like I'd burned him and stepped back, watching me with that same victorious expression. Like I was some experiment he'd just concluded.

"What?" I whispered, still trying to catch my breath, trying to make sense of what just happened.

"Just admit it, Scarlett. You like me."

Wait, what?

Reality crashed back in. He'd done this to prove a point?

Rage replaced the heat in my veins. I clenched my fists, furious at him but even more furious at myself for falling for it. "So you just came in here to prove a point?"

"Yes. And I got my answer." That smirk widened. "See you tomorrow, Scarlett."

He left, his mocking laughter echoing off the bathroom tiles.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror, my cheeks flushed, my breathing still uneven. I wasn't angry at Damien.

I was angry at myself.

I grabbed my bag and stormed out of the restroom. I needed to go home. Away from him. Away from anything that reminded me of the way my body had responded to his touch.

…

The taxi ride home felt endless. When I finally pulled up to the house, I spotted Liam in the front yard doing some kind of maintenance work. But what caught my attention was my mother's car parked in the driveway.

She was supposed to be at work.

I walked inside to find her humming cheerfully while applying makeup at the hallway mirror.

"Oh, you're back," she said, dabbing powder on her cheeks.

"Wow. Care to tell me what the occasion is? Why are you so… happy?" I headed to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water, eyeing her suspiciously.

"Is that how you greet your mother? No hug?"

I froze mid-step and stared at her. My mom was never a hug person.

"What did you do to my mom?" I asked, making sure my tone made it clear how bizarre this was.

She laughed, actually laughed, and turned to face me. "Come on, Scarlett. People can change."

Yeah, people can. But not my mother.

I rolled my eyes and headed toward my room, but her voice stopped me.

"Scarlett, I'm going on a date and I'll be back late."

I spun around dramatically. "Date?"

"Oh please, Scarlett. I don't have time for your theatrics. I'll tell you everything when the time is right." She winked. "Liam will be helping his father out today. Help him if he needs anything, okay?"

For some reason, I felt a flicker of hope. My mom was actually giving love a chance? The woman who treated men like disposable entertainment was going on an actual date?

Maybe miracles did happen.

I watched her leave, and moments later, the front door swung open.

Liam walked in.

And suddenly, the world tilted on its axis.

He was shirtless now, his abs on full display, each muscle defined and glistening with sweat. The afternoon sun streamed in behind him, casting a golden glow over his tanned skin. A bead of sweat traced down his chest, disappearing beneath the waistband of his jeans.

My throat went dry.

Why can't I breathe properly?

My fingers tightened around the water bottle. Heat bloomed in my chest, spreading lower. I swallowed hard, and the sound echoed in the quiet room.

He must've heard it.

"Scarlett. I didn't know you were there," he said, his voice snapping me back to reality.

"Yeah… me neither," I stammered like an i***t.

His eyes dropped to the bottle in my hand. "Need help with that?"

"Oh. Yes." I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and handed it to him, even though opening a bottle wasn't exactly rocket science.

He twisted the cap off easily and handed it back. Our fingers brushed.

A jolt of electricity shot through me.

Ivy was right. I was horny. And I needed to do something about it before I lost my mind.

I just needed to make a move on Liam without looking desperate.

I climbed the stairs to my room, leaving the door slightly ajar, just enough to send an invitation.

I peeled off my school clothes and stepped into the shower, letting the warm water wash away the tension from the day. When I emerged, I wrapped a towel around myself and sat at my vanity, slowly applying lotion to my skin.

The door creaked open.

I glanced at the mirror. Liam stood in the doorway, hesitating.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have, " He paused. "I just came to let you know I'm leaving now."

I met his gaze through the reflection and nodded. "Sure."

But I wasn't done yet.

"Liam, wait." I turned slightly. "Could you help me with something?"

"What is it?"

I picked up a small bottle of oil from the vanity and held it out. "Can you apply this on my back? I can't reach."

He hesitated. "I don't know, Scarlett…"

I pouted, fluttering my lashes. "Please?"

With a quiet sigh, he gave in. He took the bottle, poured some into his palm, then pressed his hands against my back. His touch was careful, hesitant, like he was afraid of crossing a line.

"Go lower," I whispered. "And bring it up a little… closer."

His fingers trailed higher, brushing dangerously close to the sides of my breasts. A shiver ran down my spine. His hand hovered there, the heat of his touch burning into my skin.

I stood up abruptly.

The towel fell to the floor.