MATED TO HER ALPHA STEPBROTHERS のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 31 - チャプター 40

BROOKSThe lounge was busy, loud with chatter and the screech of suitcase wheels against the marble floor. Everyone was checking out, laughing about yesterday and last night, taking pictures, sharing phone numbers they probably wouldn’t save.But I couldn’t focus.I sat stiffly on the edge of one of the long couches, my legs crossed, fingers tapping restlessly against my knee. My eyes kept flicking to the doorway. Then the hall. Then the stairs.I didn’t even know what I was looking for. Or maybe I did.Stephan.My chest tightened just thinking about him. What if he walked in right now? What would I do? Act cool? Pretend like nothing happened? Like he hadn’t slammed me against a tree and made me feel like my body wasn’t mine anymore?Fuck.I shifted in my seat.Still no sign of him. Just Sean flirting with a girl near the coffee machine and Betty humming beside me as she scrolled through her phone.I tried to sound casual. “Hey, have you seen Stephan this morning?”“Nope,” Betty did

BROOKSThe moment I stepped into the Romano Corp building, I let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding. Back to normal. Or something like it.The retreat was over. Chia was dead. Aaron had been sentenced to life in prison without parole. Just like that—gone. Both of them. Wiped off the board like they were never real.And yet, here I was, still breathing… still free.I didn’t know how to feel. Relieved? Sure. But there was something else sitting under my skin, buzzing. Fear, maybe. Because someone killed Chia, and that someone was still out there. And I had no clue if I should be scared… or grateful.The elevator ride to my floor felt too short, like I hadn’t fully gathered myself yet. But as soon as the doors opened, Betty was there, practically skipping toward me like I was a long-lost best friend back from war.“Brooks!” she squealed, flinging her arms around me. “Oh my God, finally! I was starting to think you’d vanished into some spa cult retreat or something.”I laug

BROOKSI didn’t respond.I couldn’t.Because my heart was racing, my blood was humming, and there was a pulsing ache between my thighs that was already begging.Heath leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine.No teasing. No pretense. Just a full, claiming kiss.And I let him.Because pretending I didn’t want this? That was a lie I was tired of telling.So I kissed him back.Not shyly.I parted my lips and slid my tongue boldly into his mouth.The sound he made was somewhere between a growl and a groan, caught low in his throat. His hands gripped my ass—hard—palming the flesh and dragging me down harder against his bulge.The friction made my head spin.I moaned into his mouth, breath hitching.He took full advantage.His tongue shoved back into my mouth, all dominance and raw hunger, tasting me, owning me, controlling the pace. One hand stayed firm on my ass, holding me in place, while the other gripped my waist as he rolled his hips beneath me.The zipper of his pants caught perf

BROOKSI was elbows-deep in reports about the new resort when my phone buzzed beside my keyboard.ZadeOutside. Don’t make me come in.Crap. Lunch.I sat up straight, blinking at the time on my screen. He’d actually come. I thought he was just being polite this morning, throwing out a casual "I’ll pick you up for lunch" without really meaning it. But no. Zade was outside. Right now.Not wanting to keep him waiting, I packed my things and was off. I found Zade parked just a few feet from the entrance, leaning against the side of his sleek black car like a scene out of a music video. Sunglasses still on. One hand in his pocket. The other was holding his phone.“You’re really out here,” I said, walking up to him.He pushed his shades up into his hair and smirked. “Told you I would be.”“I thought you were just saying that to be polite.”“I’m not polite.” He opened the door for me again like a damn gentleman. “You’re annoying.”“And hungry,” he added, glancing at me. “Come on. Let’s

BROOKSThe bass was already thumping in my chest before I even reached the building.Outside, the line wrapped around the block—people laughing, dressed in glitter and leather, energy buzzing. I felt both underdressed and overdressed somehow.Then I saw the line.Crap.Zade hadn’t given me a ticket. He’d just said, “Come.”I was about to text him something dramatic like “Should I seduce security or…” when someone said, “Miss Brooks?”I looked up.A tall guy in all black, tight tee, earpiece, sunglasses at night—definitely not just another concertgoer—was watching me.“Uh… yeah?”“Zade said to bring you in.”Oh.I followed him through a side door, past the crowd and ticket scanners. A girl in fishnets gave me a death glare as I passed.Inside, it was louder. Dimmer. Cooler.He brought me up through a side corridor and into a sleek, roped-off section above the crowd, VIP, I guessed. The view was perfect, just as the lights dipped and the stage lit up.And then—The band came out.Or ra