Prince With Benefits: A Billionaire Royal Romance (31 page)

I shouldn't be so hot and bothered. Okay, maybe
bothered
because he's punched all my wrong buttons. But I know I'm in trouble when he steps up, closing the distance between us, and I can't stop sneaking little glances at his powerful hips.

The shorts he's wearing accent everything. His bare legs are as built and muscular as the rest of him, and I know that hard ass at the top lets him run like the wind.

Does he shake a girl straight down to her bones when he's between her legs, driving deep and hard? Fucking this animal must hurt. Probably in all the best ways I can imagine.

And believe me, my overactive, inexperienced virgin brain is going wild.

Ty stops with less than a couple inches between us. He must've seen me peeking because his eyes are all over me, lingering on my breasts. I'd regret not wearing something a little more conservative if I wasn't busy regretting this whole damned thing.

He reaches out and puts a hand on my shoulder, starts to turn me before I can protest. “Spin, babe. You've got sand all over your ass.”

He gets two or three quick strokes down my back and over my butt before I dart away.
Fucker.

I can't blame him for looking because I was doing the same, but I'm drawing the line at him ever getting his filthy hands on me again. “Don't be a pig.”

Ty comes closer, his handsome face cast in arrogance again. “Pig? Let's talk about that shit for a second. You're right about one thing, Claire – my old man's an asshole. You won't hear me arguing otherwise. I always wondered what the fuck caused him to ride my ass so hard. Could never tell if it was just chasing money, or because losing Mom so young fucked him up.”

My head tilts and I study his face, wondering where he's going with this. “Maybe you should worry more about the road you're going down, Ty. That's something you can control.”

He breaks the gaze and walks right past me. I walk fast, trying to catch up, stepping into his footprints in the sand.

Did I actually hit a sore spot – or is he just waiting to jerk me around again?

“Before today, I thought my old man was one-of-a-kind. Greedy, narcissistic, cut throat. Willing to do anything to take the empire he's built with his bare hands to the next level. I'll never be the perfect son, and it's too fucking late for him to mold me. But he's got the rest of his life to mold Spree into what he wants.”

“Why today? What changed?”

“Meeting Amanda. Straight up, your ma's different, lower on the totem pole in some respects. Still, that woman had to pull some seriously sneaky shit to sweet talk my old man into marrying her. She's landed herself a fucking whale for financing future campaigns. Not too shabby for a politico, right? Fuck, you'll go far if you're half as big a snake as mama. Maybe you can find yourself Prince Charming, some dude who's loaded to make it easier for you to stand around and lecture everybody else.”

Wow. I come to a dead stop. I'm almost speechless.

Ass. Hole.

When the words come back, they come fast and hot. So do my fists. I fly forward and start hitting him over and over. He grabs me, stops me so easily, grabs my wrists and twists them like I'm a child. It's as infuriating as the laughter pouring out of his evil sexy lips.

“Knock it the fuck off, babe. Throw me a fucking bone and don't play stupid. You're a smart girl. We both know what this marriage's all about. Are you pissed because I opened your eyes, or because I threw something you already knew in your face?”

“I'm pissed because you're the most condescending, insulting jerkoff in the entire world!”

“Ah, the whole world,” Ty muses, loosening his hold on my wrists and lowering them to my waist. “You must get around a lot for a Congresswoman's daughter. Shit, here I thought North Korea still had some bigger pricks than me.”

I flap my limbs, arms and legs pumping, putting sorely needed distance between us. It's my turn to start walking. The beautiful daylight wanes fast, and not just because he's once again made a complete ass out of me. I stare at the thick clouds rolling in from the Pacific, doubling my steps to make it to the car before it starts to rain.

I don't dare look back. Ty doesn't even chase me or say anything until my old car comes into view, an ugly metal lump totally out of place on this gorgeous beach. It doesn't matter that the scenic value is about to plummet with a Washington rain coming ashore.

“Hey.” Ty's voice hits me from behind, just as he grabs my shoulders. “I didn't know you were so sensitive. Never meant to make you this pissed. If you want me to walk home, I'm more than happy to –“

“Just get the fuck off me and get in the car!” I scream, spinning and slapping him away. “I don't understand you!”

“Feeling's mutual, babe.”

“No, it's not. I didn't decide to zero-in the moment I first saw you and treat you like complete shit. I don't get why you're doing everything you can to get a fucking rise out of me. Is it just a sick game? Are you hitting on me? Playing me for kicks? You're supposed to be my fucking brother!”

He laughs, arrogant as ever. “Don't fucking flatter yourself, babe. You think I'm so desperate I'd fuck my own little Sis?”

Of course I do, even if I'm afraid to say it. He's proven he's Prince Asshole, with all the dangerous looks of Prince Charming. I can't rule out
anything
on his agenda.

“Bullshit!” he roars at last. “You really don't know me, do you? I'm Tyler fucking Sterner. Every goddamned day's a pussy buffet at my club. I can and
will
fuck everything in Seattle before I'd ever lay my hand on you. Even if you weren't little Sis, you're not the kinda chick I take to my bed unless I've got one or two hotter girls on the other arm. You're a side dish. Nothing more. Get the fuck over yourself, Little Miss Perfect – pussy like yours is a dime a dozen.”

Tears sizzle in my eyes. I hate him so much.

He's stabbing me in the heart again and again, reminding me what a worm I am compared to the almighty billion dollar golden boy. He's a stain, a disease, and if I had any goddamned backbone, I'd leave him behind. I'd head back to Seattle and scrimp together whatever money I can for an apartment, exit this sideshow Mom's snuck into my life.

I should reach down and scoop up some sand to plug my ears so I don't have to hear his crap the rest of the drive home. Either that, or scoop up some dirt and throw it right in those perfect blue bastard eyes. I want to fucking blind him the same way he's doing to me.

Facing the ground, I put my hand over my brow, hiding the tears.

I've got to keep moving, while my legs still work, or I'll never escape this torture. I get in the car and slam my door before he can answer.

It takes everything to fight the tears back. It helps to know that I really
am
a better person than this pompous, indulgent shit who won't stop looking sexy as he wipes his feet all over me. And because I'm better than him, I'm not going to abandon his twisted ass out here in the middle of nowhere.

Ty lingers outside for about a minute, until I honk the horn, giving it a long, hard push. The sound blasts out to sea, now taking rain from the clouds overhead.

He looks at me, shuffles over, and gets in. His eyes are softer, more sober looking and less cruel. I can't resist revving the car, letting the engine voice the growl that's tearing me apart from the inside-out.

“Claire, look, shit got outta hand.” Ty's voice sounds softer than I've ever heard it. “I didn't mean to insult your ma or your intelligence. You're a smart woman – bright enough to stay the fuck away from me. Nobody else does that. Normally, I'd have your panties as a souvenir by now, and I'm glad I don't. Not just because we're in this fucked up family arrangement, but because you stood up to me. It's all this poison talking, this shit I can't get over about the marriage. You understand? I was a kid when I lost my mother. When some strange woman walks into my dad's life without warning, what the hell am I supposed to think?”

I don't know the answer. I can't figure out whether there's some sick truth to what he's saying, or if my mom's truly gone head over heels for the first time in my life. And even if the bastard next to me is right, it stings even worse.

“Here's what I think,” I say, slowly circling through the sandy parking strip, heading for the main road. “You don't like my mother. I'm not too fond of your dad. Hell, Ty, I'm not a fan of
you.
”

His lip purse, just enough for me to notice. His gorgeous blue eyes flash icy dark for a second, and then he's glaring at me, angry like I just spat in his coffee.

I don't get it. It's not a big secret – we're enemies. Step-rivals. One big, dysfunctional family.

How can he be so damned oblivious?

“You really hate my ass, huh? After I just gave you an honest apology?” Ty snorts. “So much for smoothing things over. I'm an open book, Claire. I won't hide a damned thing from you. Yeah, I've given plenty of shit, and I'm gonna keep giving you more because it's what I do. It's me. If you can't handle me the way I am, then we're gonna be strangers after all.”

“Yep. Honestly, I'd rather keep my distance than be roped into more of your head games!” I snap. “We can't control what our parents do. For one very brief second, I thought maybe you were right, maybe we could find some common ground. But you've ruined that today. You proved it doesn't work. I think you're delusional to think anything else. I'm not your step-sister, Ty. I'm just another bitch who came along for the ride when my mom decided to crash your dad's wonderful life.”

I try to keep my eyes fixed on the road. Still, there's no ignoring how his fists flex, making his huge biceps bow up. Jesus, what guns he's got strapped to his shoulders. If most fit young men are carrying rifles, then he's got cannons.

It's a joke when most men say it, flexing and prancing around like bulky peacocks. With Ty, it's God's truth, otherworldly perfection sculpted from head to toe.

Unfortunately, there's an asshole inside the body of this Greek god, and now I've laid all my cards out.

I'm barking at him here like a cornered animal. I'm not afraid to let him know how bad he's hurt me, pissed me off, but I can't let him see how my heart races a little bit faster every time I take a nice long look at him.

There's dead silence for the next mile, maybe more. He's done talking. Cautiously, I look over, staring at him while he's got his head turned to the window, aiming his deadly blue eyes out at the stormy Pacific.

“Ty...”

“Shut the fuck up.” He spins his face around, and it's lined with anger. “Just get us home. I don't need any more of this horseshit before my big fight.”

“Fight? For charity? I didn't know you had one coming up.”

“None of your business. I thought about asking you to come, but there's no fucking way now. You can't stand me getting in a few words here in the open. There's no goddamned way you'd handle watching me pummel Fat Boy to the floor.”

Oh my God. And he's the one who called me sensitive? I can't tell if he's really that stung, or if this is just one more mind game. If I give into the urge to smack him across the face, as hard as I possibly can, I'll probably wreck this car.

“You're right,” I mutter. Every syllable threatens to lodge in my throat and choke me. “I've got my internship starting this week. I don't have time to watch you beat on some other big ape. Time's all I've really got, Ty. I need to make money and get my career going. I'm not a billionaire's kid like you.”

My inner filter's officially crumbled. Gone.

I don't dare look at him as he shoots me one last death glare. For a second, I'm half scared he'll reach over and suffocate me with those monstrous hands.

Then my brain does it for me, turning against me, forcing me to imagine what those rough, huge paws would feel like all over my body.

Great.
Being around Prince Asshole Sterner collides with my virgin insecurities.

It's sick. Taboo. Wrong.

It's also lodged in my head like a bad song on loop. All I can think about for the rest of the drive is how good it would feel to hate-fuck this savage sonofabitch, blowing off the smothering tension between us, and probably a lot more too.

So much for ever having a normal sex life.

I don't realize how hot my blood's pumping until we're past the guardhouse, heading for the garage. The oversized opener attached to my visor isn't working for some reason. The car idles as I awkwardly tap the big button several times.

Ty's arm jerks past. He pushes my hand down with a growl, rips the black box off my visor, and then punches a neon green square next to the big button.

“That one opens the garage. You're hitting the fucking panic button for the guards.”

Hot, brutal red stains my cheeks. I'm too embarrassed to make another sarcastic comment. By the time I pull in and get ready to snap back, my door pops open, and Ty leaps out of my car.

He doesn't even stop to look back as he jogs to the house door, rips it open, and disappears inside.

I don't move for at least a solid half hour. I'll fucking die on the spot if I run into the prick in the halls. My entire body can't stop shaking, and the tears come, furious and blinding hot after their delay.

Is this what a panic attack feels like?

I'm clueless. The storm sweeps over me for the next ten minutes while my brain flashes through my parents, their sudden wedding, and this new home that'll never feel anything like
home
should.

This place is a fucking prison, no matter how many luxurious acres it is. And Ty's just another inmate here to taunt me, to toy with me right down to base biology. Why, why,
why
does my fucked up brain want to kiss the lips that won't stop telling me I'm worthless?

You know that old cliche about uptight good girls melting their panties and losing their minds for the worst badasses around? Yeah, I'm living it.