The blue of his eyes shone like the Caribbean Sea, so dark and clear. He had a tattoo and a body made for an athlete.
"So you are that gold digger's daughter.
Huh, step-sis?" and I saw my whole world shatter before me.
He had seen through me and my mother; I could only shut my eyes and scream aloud before stamping my feet on his and running out of his embrace.
God help me, his father had instructed me to meet Max if I needed anything, but the only thing I knew I needed was saving from Max and not the other way around.
As I ran, I nearly bumped into the housekeeper, Mr Cupid, at the end of the hallway.
"Oh dear, you must be lost," he apologised, taking my hands in his as he took me to a designated room for me to stay in.
He was a man in his early fifties, with warm brown eyes and silver, short-cut hair. He wore a black tailcoat with ironed trousers.
My room was situated at the right end side of the second floor, while that of my parents was on the first floor.
But what threw me off balance was the fact that Max's room was no more than two rooms away from mine.
How much worse could my situation get?
Mr Cupid opened the door to my room, and I couldn't help but stare at the magnificence before me. From the plush pillow to the curtains to the bed, the bedposts were in the shape of a car.
"Hope you like it; I tried to recreate something similar to taste," he leaned to whisper into my ears.
"Ohhh, I love it," I giggled, hugging him warmly; his cheeks rose to a red as if he weren't accustomed to such a show of appreciation.
He turned abruptly, but I didn't miss the smile on his lips before he left.
"Dinner is at seven, Miss Hawthorne," he chirped as he left.
"Okay, Cupid," I responded as he closed the door behind him.
I unpack my things, little by little, adding my presence and things to each and every part of the room.
It was seven, and I knew that I couldn't miss it.
Mother might tear me apart if I tried, and I have had one mischief for one day.
The thought of being anywhere close to my stepbrother made a shudder run down my spine.
Putting on a polo and leggings, I head downstairs. Mother and Mr Hawthorne are at the table waiting already. I join them, but neither eats until Max shows up.
He steps in wearing a shirt and brown shorts, which makes me feel disappointed because I miss seeing him half naked.
He pulls out a chair at the table, and his father starts an introduction; little does he know I have met his son more times than necessary.
"This is Noah Anderson, your stepmom's daughter. She is going to St Mary's as well. I need to show her around at school."
Mr Hawthorne says as he dishes out a portion of food for himself.
"Noah is great; I know you both would get along in no time," my mother chirps in while I gawk at the three of them.
"I think she already knows me pretty well; after all, she has seen me...", I didn't allow him to finish before stepping in with my own interpretation.
"Name tag", I said aloud. The awkwardness of the situation was more than I could bear, but that wasn't enough for him to tell my parents I had seen him half naked.
With the interruption, everyone's eyes swivelled to me.
"Ehm, there is a new thing at school, and ...his name is Max," I managed to complete.
Taking the glass of water, I laid it down in a rush, which nearly made me choke, and I coughed out loud.
Max wrapped his arm over his middle and broke into a haughty laugh.
"Didn't they teach you how to swallow in public school?" He mocked, his dentition so perfect and white.
"Maybe... you know, but I am not fucking my teacher for grades. You know some students do that at my new school, and I wonder who?" I threw in. He wasn't going to have the comfort of intimidating me, not when I knew his dirty little secret.
"Noah!!! Language!" Mother yelled, commanding me to order, and I knew she wasn't a woman to be crossed, so I recoiled back into my shell.
Inwardly, I smiled because Max's flicker of teeth was nothing more than a frown by now. Good to know I had leverage over him.
"We will be having a family dinner at the sailing club tomorrow," Mr Hawthorne announced to the gathering.
"Sailing club," I mimicked and wished I didn't because my mother started a history of how Max's great-grandfather was an English admiral and the club dates back generations.
Max stood up, excused himself, and retreated to his room, which I thought
I ate a little bit more and excused myself as well. Mother sent me those deadly glares, but Mr Hawthorne allowed me to leave the table anyway.
I removed my clothes and stepped into the bathroom after a long shower to ease me of the incident of today.
I stepped out with my towel wrapped around my body while using the short one to dry my damp towel, only to find Max in my room, at the table, reading my notebook aloud.
Closing the door sharply behind me, I walked over to him, snatching the book out of his grip.
He lunges at me to take it back; I trip and land on top of the bed and him on top of me.
He stares at me, hard, glaring as though he could picture my soul.
Just then a pink vibrator rolls out from underneath my pillow, caused by the thud of my fall.
"Dammit", I murmured, but his eyes had already seen the sex toy.
"Really, still hiding your sex toy underneath your pillow?" he mocks, waving the toy in my face. "What are you,12"
"Give it back, you asshole," I rebuked, reaching out for the toy as he raised it higher.
He glances sideways and reads the description on the toy.
"Intro toys for virgins", he bluffs aloud, and my cheeks heat up in shame.
"Really, no one has ever taken you on a date, step-sis?" He asked as the blue of his eyes got darker.
"Don't call me that," I responded, furious over his remark; he didn't mean it, and I knew.
"Your mom wanted us to get along, right?" He whispered, a wicked smirk drowning his tantalising lips.
He says as he trails the bigger side of the toy from my cleavage down my middle, with every trail sending sparks of desire and my head swirling. I didn't just want the toy on my flesh; I wanted his lips trailing down my damp skin and his fingers creating magic in my feminine hole.
"So why don't we play with this?" He said, raising it once more in the air.
"You can't scare me with that, " I said, challenging him with fixated eyes as I spread my legs apart.
"I'm calling your bluff; is this what you want to see?" I whispered as I took his wrist and slowly trailed the toy from my cleavage down to the rest of my body. He had pulled his hand off halfway when I intended him to use the vibrator at the vagina where my body throbbed for his touch more.
By now he is panting and grasping for breath.
He flings away the toy and whispers something into my ear– deep and vulgar.
Even
After he left, his words haunted me, breaking the last piece of pride left in me. Not only did I not have dinner; now sleep was going to be the last thing on my mind, as not only did his words linger but his presence as well.