The Filthy Series: The Complete Dark Erotic Serial Novel Read Free Page B

t-shirt with plaid pajama bottoms that hung loose on his lean hips. He was more muscular than I remembered. Thicker, harder. I drank him in.
    Total rage covered the hunger on his face, but he didn’t look away. “Where are your clothes?”
    I motioned to the pile at my feet. “Took them off. They’re dirty.”
    He curled his lip. “More than fucking dirty.”
    His words cut me to the bone. They shouldn’t have. People, men, had said things like that to me before and I didn’t pretend like I didn’t know. I knew my life wasn’t fabulous. It wasn’t rich and pretty, full of botox or sparkling gowns. My life was dirty. I was dirty. And I was okay with that. It was me. It was the first place I’d felt like I was free, as backward as that sounded to other people, it was the truth. When people put me down I chalked it up to ignorance, to the fact that they didn’t know their pretty life was all just a joke. But hearing Rhett say it. Hearing him put me down—it hurt like a fucking bitch.
    I chewed the inside of my cheek and rubbed my nose. No one talks to me like that. Don’t let him get to you. Show him who’s in control here.
    “Did you need something?” I let one hand trail up my belly to cup one of my tits.
    Rhett’s gaze followed the movement. Relief slammed into me, relief and arousal. Slick heat flooded my pussy. I didn’t want to admit that I was scared he would look at me with more disgust. I’d seen the hunger in his eyes when he walked in, but some tattered part of me feared that I wouldn’t effect like I did other men. That he would see me as nothing more than the pathetic little girl that used to love him and rip me open all over again.
    “I need something.” I took a step closer to him. The movement snapped him out of his trance. The anger and disgust returned in full force. But it didn’t hurt me, because I knew the hunger was there, the desire for me, for my body. He was just trying to hide it. I fought the urge to smile.
    “I brought this. Put it on.” He threw a shirt at my feet and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. I picked up the big over-sized t-shirt. A musky cinnamon scent wafted from the material. Delicious.
    I slipped it over my head, the cotton brushing against my hard nipples. I shivered, the arousal, foreign. I stared at the closed door and worried the bottom of the shirt between my fingers. Determination coursed through my veins.
    I’m going to fuck him. Before I go back to reality. Before I put this all behind me, and forget that I even have a dead mom. I’m going to show him what he’s been missing all these years. I’m going to fuck him out of my system.
    I’m going to fuck my brother.

FOUR

    “Hungry?” A feminine voice made me jump back as I stepped into the living room/kitchen area the next morning.
    A tall woman, maybe a few years older than me stood in Rhett’s white-tiled kitchen, her ginger-colored hair in a messy ponytail. She wore a sport bra and black running shorts. Bacon sizzled behind her. She frowned when I didn’t answer.
    “I’m fine.” I waved her away even though my stomach grumbled. It had been a long time since I’d had anything besides a gas station quick pick up for breakfast.
    Who am I kidding? That’s all I ate for any meal.
    Which was why I didn’t eat much. I was the kind of person who ate only because I had to, to live.
    I moved toward a tall stool at the counter that looked into the kitchen. My feet brushed against the soft carpet, the feeling foreign.
    “I’m Sarah,” she said once I was sitting. She held a slim, pale hand out to me. “Rhett’s girlfriend.”
    His girlfriend, huh? Some vicious feeling ripped through my body, seeming to scrape at my very soul. I rubbed my nose. Glad I’d taken a bump in the bathroom before I came out.
    I stared at the hand, not taking it. She let it linger there a couple seconds longer than necessary before dropping it. I wasn’t going humor her and pretend like I was