A Steele Heart for Scarlett Thorne

The October rain came down hard against the Steele Mansion, tapping against the windows in uneven rhythms while Dean sat sprawled across the downstairs lounge room couch with a beer balanced loosely between his fingers. The television played some late-night football game on low volume, voices muffled beneath the storm outside. Dean wasn’t watching it. His attention stayed fixed upstairs. More specifically— on the sound of Scarlett Thorne laughing. His jaw tightened instantly. Jesus f*****g Christ. That laugh. Soft. Warm. Too pretty. It slid beneath his skin every single time. “Dude,” Erik said from the recliner across the room, “you’re doing the creepy staring-at-the-ceiling thing again.” Dean didn’t look away from the dark wooden beams overhead. “She coming down here?” he asked flatly. Too quickly. Erik barked out a laugh. “You are unbelievably pathetic.” Dean slowly turned his head, blue eyes cold. “Careful.” But Erik only grinned wider because unlike everybody else in town, Erik Steele wasn’t intimidated by his older brother. Mostly because he knew him too well. Specifically where Scarlett was concerned. Scarlett Thorne had been part of their lives forever. Girl next-door. Erik’s best friend. The quiet girl with books permanently tucked against her chest and sarcasm hidden behind innocent green eyes. Dean had spent years pretending she annoyed him. Meanwhile every year she got older, prettier, curvier, and significantly more dangerous to his self-control. At sixteen she started wearing oversized sweaters that slipped off one shoulder. At seventeen she began to roll her eyes at him. At eighteen she got a boyfriend. That one nearly put Dean in the ground. Will Carter. Football star. Campus golden boy. Too charming for his own good. Dean hated him on sight. Not because Will was dating Scarlett. Though the thought alone made violence itch beneath his skin. No. Dean hated him because boys like Will always had a hidden agenda. And Scarlett— sweet, trusting Scarlett— still looked at people like they had goodness in them. Footsteps echoed overhead. Then the lounge room door opened. Dean looked up automatically. And there she was. Scarlett stepped carefully down the stairs holding two textbooks against her chest, auburn hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders from the rain outside. piercing green eyes peaking from the top of her black rimmed glasses. Dean felt the impact of seeing her like a physical hit to the ribs. Every f*****g time. Her cream-colored sweater hung loose over tiny black shorts that showed off soft bare tanned legs that Dean absolutely should not have noticed immediately. Too late. His brain already betrayed him. He imagined those legs wrapped around his face as she moaned his name while cuming hard with just his tongue. Imagined her pouty full lips wrapped around his c**k as he strokes in and out of her tiny throat. Imagined taking off that oversize sweater and seeing that perfect curvy body and the swell of her perky t**s. Seeing how her chest rises and falls in anticipation as hes lines himself up to.... "DEAN!" Erik yells. snapping him out of his fantasy. Dean clenched his jaw hard enough to break a tooth. Giving Erik a death glare. "Get a grip," Erik responds to Dean's look sarcastically. Scarlett smiled softly the second she noticed him. “Hi, Dean.” Two words. That was all it took, and he was adjusting his position on the couch to hide the bulge rising in his grey sweats. Dean forced himself to look unimpressed. “You always this loud?” he muttered. Scarlett rolled her eyes instantly. “There’s the Dean Steele welcome I know and love.” Christ. That sarcasm on her should’ve been illegal. Erik snorted from his chair. “Ignore him. He’s been in a mood all day.” Dean shot him a warning look. Scarlett glanced between them before moving toward the couch, curling her legs underneath herself at the opposite end while opening one of her books. Dean made the mistake of looking down. Bare thighs. Tiny shorts hiking up and showing the bottom of her ass. Soft skin. Fuck. He dragged a hand over his mouth slowly. Scarlett noticed immediately. “Why are you staring at me like that?” Because I’m trying not to think about bending you over the arm of this couch. Dean leaned back instead, expression flat. “Because those shorts are criminal.” The second the words left his mouth, silence filled the room. Scarlett blinked. Erik choked on his drink. Dean internally contemplated smashing his head through the marble fireplace. Scarlett’s cheeks flushed pink almost instantly. “Well,” she mumbled, tugging her sweater lower, “that was rude.” Regret hit Dean hard and fast. Because that wasn’t what he meant. What he meant was: You walk around looking like that without realizing what you do to people. But Dean Steele had never once said the right thing in his entire life. Erik stared at him like he’d lost his mind. “You are so socially broken,” he muttered. Dean ignored him. Scarlett focused on her textbook again, though Dean noticed the way she tucked hair behind her ear when she got nervous. He noticed everything about her. Always had. That was the problem. “So,” Erik said casually, clearly trying to save the atmosphere, “Scarlett’s going to that lake party Friday with Will.” Dean went completely still. Scarlett didn’t seem to notice. “He said some guys from the football team rented a cabin,” she explained softly while flipping a page. “It sounds fun.” Dean stared at her for a long moment. A cabin party. Drunk football players. Will Carter. Something dark twisted low in his chest. “You shouldn’t go.” Scarlett looked up immediately. “Why?” Because men are disgusting. Because half those guys already look at you like prey. Because your boyfriend won’t protect you the way he should. Because if somebody touches you wrong, I’ll end up in prison. Dean took a slow sip of beer instead. “Those parties are trashy.” Scarlett’s expression shifted slightly. Smaller. Guarded. Like his words embarrassed her. Dean hated himself instantly. But then she quietly said: “Well… Will wants me there.” Dean laughed under his breath. Not amused. Just angry. Scarlett frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean’s eyes slid over her face slowly. “You always do whatever he wants?” The tension sharpened immediately. Scarlett straightened. “No.” “Could’ve fooled me.” Her cheeks flushed again—this time with irritation. Dean knew he should stop talking. Knew jealousy was making him cruel. But then Scarlett crossed her legs unconsciously and shifted her body, her sweater riding higher up her side showing the swell of her hips, and every decent thought left his body. He imagined pulling her into his lap. Envisioned gripping her hips. Finally touching the girl he’d spent years wanting with enough force to make him feel sick over it. Dean stood abruptly. Scarlett startled slightly. Erik sighed. “And there he goes.” Dean grabbed his black hoodie from the chair nearby. “Where are you going?” Scarlett asked softly. The concern in her voice nearly destroyed him. Dean looked at her for one long second. Rain hammered against the windows. “You should stay away from Carter’s party,” he said quietly. Then he walked upstairs before he did something unforgivable.