HIS RETURN

“Bella? Where on earth did you go? Joe has been waiting for more than an hour now.” Dad did not even wait for me to speak first.

He must be thinking that I disobeyed him and went some other way because he knows the great rift between me and his bastard son is beyond bridging. Come to think of it, I should have done that, actually. I should have gone to meet the caterers, waited for the wedding planners, or attended to my job other than coming to pick that annoying bastard.

“Then where is your son, Dad? Tell him to find me in less than three minutes! A second longer, and I will be out of here!” I say.

“Can’t you call him, dear? Why are you complicating things so much?” My dad asks furiously.

Call that jerk? Eyes roll! “I don’t have his number," I respond.

“Impossible children!” He curses as he hangs up the phone.

Impossible? That is a proper phrase to define me and Joe! Wait and see how hell will come crumbling down on the Montana family once again with this jerk's return! He and I are like two axles in the same basket. Always crashing and making each other bleed! Ooh, yeah! That is how we damn rock and roll—taking pleasure in hurting each other. The juiciest part of our endless fights is that I always take the trophy.

Well, I am actually getting a thrill out of this somehow. It has been so damn long since I picked a fight with someone or angered someone to the core, aside from his mother, which didn't quench my thirst because my father is always ready to play the Koffi Anaan role. The satisfying brawls and bakerings ended the day Joe left, but it is just about to go down again, and I am so ready!

Just when I am dropping the phone from my ear, a spark strikes me as a strong arm pats the bare skin of my hand. The scent tickles my nostrils from behind.

A very unfamiliar shiver jolts down my spine! I hold my breath as I take in the unfamiliar intoxicating scent.

"Waiting for someone?"

Forget the sin-screaming voice, but whatever this guy is percolating must be something so forbidden. Only something forbidden could ilicit such a domineering allure to entice someone like this. I mean, how can a plain, harmless touch from a mere stranger affect me this way?

I turn around. Slowly and curiously.

An adorable male frame dwarfs me beneath it, and I take a minute to take in his bewitching allure.

He is gorgeous in all conventional ways; his skin tone is between fair and pale, and he is flawless. I anticipate his eyes, which are hidden behind the black shades, to be extremely deep and golden brown. His square jaw and high cheekbones frame his face perfectly. He is not the common, muscular, alpha male with 8-pack abs and 16-cm biceps, but he can indisputably stand out in a crowd of millions. His moist, full, pink lips are something that any straight girl would give anything to lick. He is, in short, charming. Breathtaking. Someone that any straight woman would swoon over—and I am no exception. That explains why my legs are crossed right now, preventing the throbs down there from coming out so loud.

He lifts his black shades, giving me the pleasure to delve into the deepest depths of his eyes. They are exactly as I anticipated—deep, golden orbs with a strong spark enough to hold you at the base of their depths forever.

“Hello, gorgeous!”

And when he speaks? That husky, guttural baritone?

Oh, mio, Dio! Lord have mercy!!!

I break the eye contact before I get lost in his for good. I also realize that my legs are still decussated, perhaps to stamp down that irritating throb between my legs. I don’t understand why my cheeks are burning with rosiness even after breaking eye contact.

Him? He should not get me this hot, for goodness sake! I mean, Joe? When did Belladine Montana become this weak, this forbiddingly naughty, to be affected like this by my very own half-brother? Or, maybe it is the effect of not seeing him for a whole decade? Yeah?

“What are you not used to that is getting you to blush like a sweet sixteen, huh? Seeing a hot guy like me, or you being called gorgeous? Hasn't any man appreciated you for the beauty that you really are, sissy?” He asks as he fiddles with his trimmed field hockey beard.

He is as annoying as ever. But in a way, I hate to admit that he is right. I mean, this is him, my stepbrother, the ever-annoying Joe Fredrick Montana! Why am I aroused by him? Why is his presence making me this uncomfortable?

Am I even normal? What sort of an abominable affection is this? I should have jumped right on his ass as soon as I saw him, cursing him for making me leave my busy schedule and come all the way here. Yet here I am, ogling him as if he were a piece of meat that I could devour in a minute. What the fuck?

Sweet sixteen, my foot! I am a twenty-eight-year-old adult, for crying out loud, and I need to get a grip on these forbidden sensations!

“I have no time for your silly jokes! Get your ass moving to the car before I change my mind and leave you here,” I say and turn to leave while still battling with my emotions.

Even my heart is throbbing differently for the first time in my twenty-eight years. It never thumbed like this, even for Leon. Some kind of evil power ought to have possessed me, Sha! This is not happening. I mean, how on freaking earth?

“Wait!”

Everything stops—my heart skips several beats, I forget to breathe, and all the hairs on my body stand on alert as he grabs my hand from behind. Holy Gracious Mary, explain to me what kind of spell I am under.

Slowly and gently, he turns me around, and we lock eyes, his eyebrows forming deep, adorable curves above the eyes. “Not even a welcome hug for a brother that you haven't seen in ten years?” He asks, opening his arms wide to welcome me. “Come on!” He adds with a smug tugging on his lips.

I should have objected, but I find myself falling into his arms, and again, a wave of conflicting sentiments spanks me. I don’t know whether it is his scent, his homey chest, or his strong arms and the way they are tightly but gently embracing me into him. I just can’t tell what is arousing me like this, and I hate it.

No. I actually, weirdly, love it here, in his embrace. It feels like the sweetest and safest haven there could ever be in this world. Someone tell me I am in a dream!

“I missed you!” The way his voice tickles me is also different, weakening my bones and arousing more sparks all over my body that are already burning.

I nudge him away mildly to cut this forbidden hug and everything in between what I am feeling. I feel like I am floating in a quagmire of hate, pleasure, and thrill. I honestly can’t explain what I am feeling or why.

“The traffic jam is pretty bad. We better get going,” I say as I turn around, avoiding his eyes like a bullet.

“That is even better.” He says, stopping me again and making a turn to him.

That is better?

I swirl around.

The jerk never misses a chance to annoy me, does he? Does he know just how much I detest driving and dealing with stupid traffic jams? Well, scrub that. What does he remember about me, anyway? And even if he did, what the fuck does he care? Why would he care? His third leg must be twitching with the glee of anticipating my misery right now.

“Give me the key!” He adds, stretching his hand toward me.

My eyebrows rise in bewilderment. “Why?” I ask in mental confusion.

He smirks. That damn smirk. What happened to him in Cuba? He seems the exact opposite of what I expected him to be—how I knew him before.

“I know you can’t stand being in that seat for minutes, as far as I can recall. Your ass must be burning already. Plus, I can compensate for bringing you here against your will. So, I will drive.”

Damn! Does he have to be so dirty-mouthed? What a jerk! I would have applauded him for guessing that right, but forget it.

I slam the damn key into his palm and walk to the car without even looking back. I was about to open the door, but a hand held the door before I did. I turn around, almost crashing into his face behind me.

A fleeting moment passes as we stare deep into our eyes. I don’t know if it is coincidental or if the devil intended it to be because he isn’t backing down. I can’t understand the look in his eyes either. It’s a dark look, bleeding a combo of things that don't ring a bell to me. Things that are melting me down in a way that I hate and love at the same time.

This is freaking forbidden! None of this should be happening.

I take a long blink, and I lean back, creating some distance between us. The heat he is percolating is still burning me. Or is it the insidious fire in his eyes?

“What are you doing?” I whine in a powerless voice.

“I am trying to be a gentleman,” he winks with his left eyebrow, scanning my face as if looking for something. “And what is happening to you, sweet little sister?” He hoarses, his bewitching eyes burning my face as I battle with all my efforts to avert it.

“Me?” I ask again, swallowing hard and hoping that he does not witness this forbidden arousal he is inflicting on me.

“Yes. Are you, in any way, lusting for me?” He cocks his head, squeezing his eyes together as he is sampling what he is doing to me.

I swallow hard and dry, almost cracking my throat in the process. How does he know how I am feeling? Am I that obvious?

“When did you become this naughty, little sissy?” He asks with an annoying smugness, delineating the side of my cheek and resting his hand on my neck.

I squint as more sparks arise. Something so paralyzing ran down my spine.

Screw this moron! What kind of witchcraft did he bring from wherever he came from? How did he even know he was having this forbidden effect on me?

I cannot allow this forbidden feeling. I have to fight it at all costs!

I take a deep breath to cool the rage of fire burning inside of me. “You wish!” I say as I try to walk out of this strong wall in the name of Joe.

Wasted efforts, because before I know it, he slams his other hand on the side of the car, caging me to him and leaning too close for my liking, feeding me his hot pheromones.

“Are you sure? Do you mean to say that I am not affecting you in any way? Are you sure your pants are not wet as we speak?” He speaks to my lips, almost bringing me to my knees.

 Shieet!

I don’t know how, but I can bet all the fortune in my name that this jerk knows perfectly what he is doing to me. He knows I am deeply affected. He knows I am having these forbidden feelings for him. He is perfectly aware of the heat burning under my skin. And like the pestiferous jerk that he has always been, his balls are getting a kick out of this rage of fire consuming me. He is making fun of me, and I should be ashamed of myself for allowing myself to feel this way.

“Get the fuck off me, Joe Montana!” I squeal calmly to avoid arousing suspicions around us. That is, if we haven’t caused any already. Funny how I am itching to know how many eyes are watching this forbidden scene, yet my eyes can’t avert from his.

“What if I don’t, Belladine Montana?” He asks, his voice deeper than I had known it to be, his eyes drilling through mine as he licks his lower lip to what only he and the devil knows what.

“I will smash your balls so hard and make sure no sperm will be left alive. That way, Joe Fredrick Montana, no annoying person like you will ever be born to this world,” I state, and he laughs out so loud, irritating my demons more. 

Should he seriously be laughing right now? I want to get on his nerves like I always did. I wanted to irritate his ass! Why am I the one feeling the anger?