Home > Dirty Toe Drag(2)

Dirty Toe Drag(2)
Author: Toni Aleo

The caption: Doing Boss Bitch Things.

Hell yeah, she is. I swallow hard as I gaze at the photo, taking in every detail and reminiscing about those lips on mine. That body in my arms. The feel of her ass in my hands. Her chest pressed to mine and my fingers tangled in her hair. The week of Aiden and Shelli’s wedding, I got my taste of her. Better yet, stole it.

I’ve been attracted to Aiden’s sister for a very long time. How could I not be? She’s utterly stunning. She not only works a full-time job; she goes to school full time. She’s funny. She’s quick to smile, and her eyes are always so bright and spectacular. I couldn’t help myself. We were at some dinner thing—there were a hundred of them—and I found myself waiting in the hall outside the bathroom with her.

I know she is attracted to me—it’s in her eyes—so I took my chance. I pulled her into my arms, and I kissed her. She kissed me back eagerly, and the rest of the week, whenever we found ourselves alone, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. That is, until she put on the brakes.

“Come on, Stella. We could have fun.”

I remember her eyes, glassy as she nodded. “We could, but do you plan on telling my brother about our fun?” I couldn’t believe she’d thrown Aiden at me. She might as well have thrown cold water on me instead. Aiden had made it known, loud and clear, I was to stay away from his sister. My eyes widened, and I didn’t know what to say. There was no way I was telling Aiden. I couldn’t tell him I was banging his sister because, at the time, that was all I could offer her. I’m not implying that has changed, but I know I’m not where I was, and that’s a good thing. I couldn’t tell her that at the time, though.

So, with her eyes blazing into mine, she told me, “Exactly. When you’re ready to tell him that you enjoy feeling up his sister and want to see where it goes, come find me. Until then, though, stay away and have a nice life.”

I have been with a lot of women and have been broken up with or rejected before, but Stella Brooks’s rejection cut me—in half. I remember watching her walk away, and I wanted so much to stop her. I knew I couldn’t, though.

So instead, I’ve spent the better part of the last eight months stalking her Instagram, acting like I go into her family’s restaurant for the free food, but really it’s just to be near her. Just to be a part of her life, even if it’s from afar. She talks to me, sends me a quick grin, but her words that night were a promise.

A promise that terrifies me.

I’ve never been a jealous man, never had to be. When I want someone, I get them, but that’s not the case with Stella. I’ve watched men flirt with her. Dudes from her college come in and catcall her, and I see red. She was dating a guy, a huge dweeb who only lasted a week, but that week was hell for me. I’m beyond thankful she deleted the posts with him, because I couldn’t stand to see her in someone else’s arms. Don’t get me wrong, she isn’t an angel. I know this. No one can kiss like that and not have been doing it for a while, but I wish she were. I wish she were my angel.

I hit her stories, immediately engulfed in all the photos of her showing off her college, her outfit, and endless selfies with different filters. Each one, I send a heart to. I know that’s ridiculous, but I don’t want her to forget me. I want her to know I’m still here. I’m still watching and still wanting her. Not that it will matter. If I can’t even admit to wanting her in front of Aiden, it won’t make a difference. Plus, Aiden wouldn’t be okay with me just sleeping with his sister. He’s so overprotective of both his sisters. And honestly, I don’t know if a relationship with Stella is something she’d want, or even if I want it. Relationships seem all glamorous and cool, especially if you listen to Boon and Aiden, but I also know they can be messy.

Especially when one half of the relationship has episodes that he can’t really explain. I wouldn’t even know where to begin to explain my issues to her. Stella wouldn’t understand. She grew up in a loving home. Never experienced death or trauma. I’ve met her family; her mom and dad are solid. Aiden is…fuck, he’s picture-perfect. Asher, her second eldest brother, is a genius, and while her baby sister could potentially commit murder, she’s still a decent kid. Then there’s Stella, the walking essence of perfection.

No, she wouldn’t want to get involved with someone like me. I may be a panty-dropper and can make her squirm in ways she never imagined, but once she got wind of my issues, she’d run for the hills.

I need things to level out. I need things to be normal. And I know getting involved with Stella would be anything but that. She is the kind of girl I could fall face first for. I wouldn’t even be able to stop myself. If I knew going in it would be only sex, I’d be good, but she doesn’t want that. She wants more. Hell, she sees the relationships her family has—of course, she’d want more. She deserves more. I know that, and I respect that. Which is why it’s safer to be an Instagram stalker than to actually put myself out there. No matter how bad I want her.

“What kind of diapers are you guys using?”

I groan loudly and get off my stool, grabbing my drink.

Aiden laughs. “What are you doing?”

“I need new friends. You two are killing me.”

Truth is, I just really want to look at Stella’s social media without having to explain to Aiden why I am checking out his sister. He’ll get annoyed, he’ll get pissed, and since it’s hard for me to make friends, even though they’re on my nerves, I’d rather not make them hate me. But that doesn’t stop me from looking at her stuff.

I’m a glutton for punishment.

 

 

Chapter Two

 

 

Stella

 

The smell of bacon first thing in the morning is very therapeutic for me. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s from waking up on the days my dad would be home from road trips to a full buffet-style breakfast. It never failed—if he was home, we were eating big, and I loved it. I loved all six of us around the table, I loved the laughter, I loved the teasing and fighting between siblings, but most of all, I loved the little touches my mom and dad would make. Most kids are grossed out by their parents loving each other, but I wasn’t. It made me believe that every queen can find her king. Boy oh boy, did my daddy raise the bar when it comes to men for me. Or maybe it was my mom. She was very insistent that I never settle for anything except a man who loves me completely. All of me, even the weird parts.

I separate the bacon, throwing some on a tray before moving the pretty intact pieces onto some paper towel to dry out. My brothers would be horrified if they were here to watch me candy the bacon since they absolutely hate savory-sweet flavors, but I love it. I then take the pan, measuring out how much bacon grease I need before setting that to the side. I blow away a piece of hair that has escaped out of my ponytail and start the batter. I know I’m supposed to measure the bourbon, my aunt Audrey got on to me last time, but I feel the Lord knows how much the cupcake needs.

With a grin, I mix everything together in the mixer, crumbling pieces of bacon into the batter as it’s starting to become one. It’s so cool to watch, and I enjoy it immensely. Once everything is mixed well, I take the bowl and scoop the batter into little cups. Thirty of them. I throw those into the oven before starting on the frosting. My favorite flavor is maple, and I might be heavy-handed with the extract, but I know it’s gonna taste incredible. As it mixes, I start the candied bacon and check on my bourbon-soaked pecans. I’ll do twenty with the nuts and ten without for my nonalcoholic folks. The bourbon in the cupcake batter cooks off, so I’m glad I don’t have to keep those straight too.

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