I’m sick.

Sure, I’ve read the stories, but hearing them spoken aloud by someone who has barely said two words to me was devastating. It soured the delicious Thanksgiving dinner in my belly. I threw it all up and spent hours crying.

Why?

Was it some sick joke?

To ridicule and humiliate me?

Once I was done throwing up, I showered, brushed my teeth, and crawled back into bed. Normally, I’m cold, but tonight I’m clammy and hot. I stripped down to just a tank top and panties, choosing to lie on top of the covers rather than beneath them.

Numbness has taken over my body.

My heart and head hurt as I try to make sense of Torin’s humiliating outburst. Tyler couldn’t make him stop. I just sat there and endured the reminder that I’m Cocaine Casey. Orphan. A sad soul with no family.

Slowly, sleep wraps its tentacles around me and pulls me under. My dreams are simple at first, but soon I wake to a sensation of being trapped. Pinned. Held hostage. Taken. A scream gets lodged in my throat but doesn’t escape because of the hand over my mouth.

Wake up!

“Casey-Casey.” The sad whisper in my dream has me calming considerably. My chest still rises and falls in rapid succession, but I no longer thrash. The fire has long gone out and my room is pitch-black.

This is a dream.

A very real dream.

I’m aware now that the heaviness on top of me is a body. Strong. Muscled. Hard. All male. Since I’m sucking in air, I catch his scent. Familiar and masculine. Despite being pinned by his large body, desire sparks in my core and ignites a fire. One of my hands is pushed against the mattress by his, but the other is free. I reach up in the dark and my suspicions are confirmed when I finger Torin’s longish hair.

This is a dream.

His nose nudges against my ear as he inhales me. I stiffen and squint in the darkness, trying to make out his face.

This isn’t real.

A hot tongue licks my flesh just below my ear, drawing out a mewl from me. My panties dampen at the way his breath tickles me where my skin is wet. Something huge hardens between us. Holy shit. That thing is giant.

This time when I whimper, it’s more from fear than desire.

But then his tongue runs up the side of my neck again to the back of my ear. His lips brush along my hairline and when his tongue makes contact with my skin, I shudder. I attempt to wriggle free, but he’s too big and too heavy.

“Casey-Casey.” His words are so soft I more or less feel them rather than hear them. My entire body tingles with a raw need. Need for what, I don’t know. I’m frozen. Caught in his trap. I’m stuck somewhere between wanting to push him away from me and running and pulling him to me and begging. His cock throbs between us. He’s not wearing jeans like usual. There is no hoodie separating us. The skin rubbing against a sliver of my own skin between my shirt and panties is bare.

Bare. Naked. Hot.

This isn’t a dream.

My heart rate skitters in my chest. When I pull at my trapped hand, his grip tightens. The licking on the side of my neck intensifies. Holy shit, I feel teeth again. Scraping and nipping. Torin Kline is biting me. Gently. Softly. In a possessive way that doesn’t match up to the man who cruelly delivered my life’s story as though it were an evening news broadcast.

As I recall how emotionless he was as he recited those ugly reminders, horror washes over me. I whimper as tears spring in my eyes. With his hand clamped over my mouth, I can’t scream for help. My breathing becomes erratic as a terrified moan manages to rumble from me.

Torin groans—the frustration in his tone evident. His forehead bumps against mine and he rests it there. Our noses brush against each other as he breathes on me. A minty scent that surprises me.

“Casey-Casey.”

I sniffle as my body trembles with sobs aching to be released. Just as I think I might pass out, the heavy weight is lifted. Quick thuds pound across the wood floors and then a creak. Before I can register what’s happened, I realize he’s gone.

Panic startles me into action and I surge from the bed. I run from my pitch-black bedroom into the hallway. From what I remember, Tyler’s room is close by. I want to tell him about his brother and what he did. Clumsily, I run into things as I stumble through the dark. Eventually, I push into a room that smells like Tyler. I can hear his heavy breathing as he sleeps. I fumble my way over to the bed, diving under the covers, seeking out his comfort and safety. The moment my fingers come in contact with his bare chest, I wrap myself around him. He stirs in his sleep and I consider waking him, but then exhaustion settles in my bones. After my adrenaline rush, I’m weak and tired.

I snuggle against his hard, muscled body and try not to dig my fingernails into his flesh. I just crave safety. Torin freaked me the hell out. As soon as my mind settles and my heart isn’t racing a hundred miles per hour, I attempt to analyze what just happened. Was he trying to apologize? By pinning me down in bed and licking me? A shudder wracks through me.

Tyler mumbles in his sleep, but then his arm curls around me. His hand settles on my hip in a way that feels as though it belongs there. I hike my thigh across his. His hairy legs feel unusual against my smooth ones. It makes me want to rub up against him more, but I don’t want to wake him up. After a few minutes, I start to nod off.

Creak.

I whimper, suddenly alert.

Footsteps thud away, taking my stuttering heart with them.

This time, I fall asleep quickly, knowing Torin’s no longer around.

I wake up sweating. It’s dark, per usual, but it feels like morning. As I come to, I recall where I’m at and who I’m with. Sometime during the middle of the night, I rolled over onto my side and Tyler curled himself up behind me. I’m nestled against the curves of his body. He breathes deeply, stolen by sleep, but his hand is under my shirt, palming my breast.

I’ve gone to second base with a person who’s sleeping.

The very thought that Tyler Kline—the gorgeous, funny, smart, successful Tyler Kline—is sleeping with his hand on my boob sends currents of heat radiating through me. My nipples harden at this realization. His thumb runs over my nipple and a choked sound escapes me.

He’s going to panic when he wakes up.

I know Tyler. He’s not shown one spark of interest toward me. Only friendship.

Which is why I should be pulling away, not wiggling my ass against his cock. Not delighting in the way it hardens against the crack of my ass. Definitely not contemplating touching a man in a place I’ve never touched before.

Pull away. Walk away. Leave the room.

Instead, I remain completely still. A small gasp escapes me when he rubs my nipple again. His cock is eager and straining against his boxers. My panties are soaked from my desire.

I know the moment he wakes because his body trembles. His lips find my shoulder as he mutters the word “fuck.” And then he’s peeling himself away from me. Disappearing into the bathroom. Hiding in the shower for too long. Unable to pretend to be asleep any longer, I sit up and slide my legs off the side of the bed. They’re bare and cold, but I want him to see me like this.

I wait until he emerges from the bathroom with a towel around his waist.

“Hey,” I murmur.

He stops in the doorway, his shoulders stiff. I can’t see his features. The bathroom light pours into the room from behind him, but his face remains shadowed. “Hey. How’d you end up here last night?”

I wish I could see if he was checking me out or not. That would make all of this a lot easier. “I…” I trail off as I contemplate whether or not I should tell him about Torin.

He saunters past me to his dresser, flicking the overhead light on along the way, and pulls out some sweatpants and a shirt. I’m disappointed when he goes back into the bathroom and closes the door behind him. I stand and start to leave when he comes back out. With his hair wet and hanging in his eyes, he resembles his brother more than ever. The simple white T-shirt stretches over his muscled chest and the gray sweatpants hide little to the imagination. He’s naked beneath them and that thought makes my thighs clench.

“Casey.” His voice is stern. Fatherly. It makes me want to throw my arms around him and make him promise me everything will be okay.

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

“I have nightmares sometimes.” Not a lie. But what happened last night was real.

He softens and pulls me to him for a hug. I’m hyperaware of every hard part of his body. His cock nudges me against my stomach, sending an explosion of butterflies scattering around inside me.

“Go get dressed and we’ll have breakfast together,” he pleads, his voice strained.

I tilt my head up and admire his handsome features. Soft, supple lips. A slightly scruffy face. Eyebrows pinched together as if he’s in pain. It’s his eyes, though, that flicker with unspeakable sadness. I want to soothe away what hurts him.

Is it me?

Do I upset him?

“I’m almost eighteen,” I mutter, my voice shaky.

He grips my biceps and gently pulls me away from him. His eyes have darkened. “Get dressed. Breakfast. Please, Casey.”

I blink back tears and nod before bolting from his room. Once inside mine, I turn on the lights and eye the space with suspicion. I’ll keep the door locked tonight. When I make my way over to the bed, I’m stunned to see pennies arranged in the shape of a C.

With a huff, I swipe them all into the floor. They ping and scatter as my tears follow suit.

I eventually find my composure and take a quick shower. I do, however, take my time applying makeup. Since I’ve been here, I haven’t felt the need to hide behind makeup. Today, I just need that layer. I line my eyes in a dramatic way and paint my lips a luscious matte crimson color. My eyes look wider and more innocent, but my lips scream sex. I don’t know what I’m trying to do but being seen as a kid isn’t one of them. My hair gets piled up on top of my head in a messy bun. I hunt through my outfits and decide I don’t own much that’s feminine. Eventually, I settle on a pair of fitted jeans and a white thermal shirt I usually wear under T-shirts. Today, I pair it with a black padded bra and push my sleeves up to my elbows. I slip my feet into my warm Uggs Tyler ordered for me before grabbing a handful of noisy metal bracelets to finish off my edgy-yet-hopefully-sexy look. One quick pass by the mirror tells me I look nothing like the girl in a tank top and panties not thirty minutes before.

I follow my nose and find Tyler at the table per usual. This morning, he doesn’t don a crisp suit. No, he looks disheveled and spacey. Dammit, I did this to him. He still wears the same outfit from earlier and he still looks sexy as hell in it.

“What’s for breakfast?” I question as I walk purposefully slow, hoping to catch his eye.

He lifts his gaze from his iPad and his brown eyes widen. “Uhh…”

A smile tilts my lips up on one side as I walk over to him. I steal a piece of bacon. “Looks like the usual. Bacon, eggs, waffle, fruit.” I linger for a moment, silently pleading for him to touch me. When I’m certain he won’t and it’s becoming creepy on my part, I let out a small sigh before settling in my chair.

“Is everything okay?” The circles under his eyes are especially dark today. Makes me wonder if I’m doing this to him. Do I stress him out?

“Peachy,” I lie. When things are fine, Tyler is happy. But it’s like he’s an empath or something, absorbing negative emotions and feeling them right along with those suffering around him.

And that makes my guilt skyrocket.

He lets out a sigh of relief. As he opens his mouth to speak, the panel in the wall opens, and Torin bursts from it, startling me. I stare him down as he strides over to his chair. His hoodie is pulled over his head, but he’s wearing the one without the sleeves. I’m forced to look at his perfect, muscled frame. To remember exactly how he felt with his nearly naked body pressed against mine. My core throbs and I internally curse myself for being so stupid. Torin’s eyes lift to meet mine, an apology dancing in them.

Or maybe I’m just seeing things because he breaks contact and barks out the word “bacon” like it’s a command before devouring every piece on his plate.

I let out a soft sigh and attempt to choke down my food. The air between the three of us is strained today. I don’t like it.

“Casey-Casey.”

I close my eyes, but that is the worst thing ever because then I can almost sense his breath against my ear—the wetness of his tongue as he licks me. When I snap my eyes open, both brothers stare at me with the same expression on their faces.

Tortured.

Pained.

Sad.

I frown because I want to know what it is about me that people don’t like. What it is about me they find so repulsive. Last night felt like Torin wanted me, but now he regards me with such a despondent look that I want to crawl under the table and hide.

“I thought we could get out of the house today. Maybe ride the horses,” Tyler says, his voice gruff.

“No,” Torin snaps and then cracks his neck.

“Okay,” Tyler utters. “Maybe we could go for a drive.”

“No!”

Tyler shoots me a helpless stare.

“I’d like to get out of this house,” I admit, my voice shaking.

Torin blinks at me in surprise. “Casey-Casey.”

I lift my chin, ignoring Torin, and meet Tyler’s stare. “Please get me out of this house.”