VULTURE (a Stepbrother Romance) by Emilia Beaumont

his neck. God, I felt so safe and yet so lost in that moment. My emotions on were on overload, each one warring and conflicting with the others.
    I closed my eyes and confessed, “I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I knew my mom had a heart problem, but I was thoughtless, making her worry all the time about me, not going to see her. It’s all my fault… Everything’s always my fault. Eric might even be alive if I hadn’t teased him that morning. I brought it all upon myself. I practically egged him on.”
    The dishwasher stopped its monotonous humming, and the air around us fell silent.
    “What? Sara, what do you mean you egged him on?”
    I stiffened in his arms. “Fuck, I’m losing everyone,” I muttered, not wanting to hear his question.
    “You haven’t lost me. I’m not going anywhere.”
    I pushed back from his embrace, inclined my head, and with puffy eyes and a red nose I said, “Promise me.”
    He nodded and took me back in his arms. “I promise.”
    I closed my eyes and continued to weep. Droplets fell from my chin and dripped onto his naked chest, mingling with his sweat. I don’t know how long we stayed like that, with my face buried in his neck and my body shaking in distress, but after a while he picked me up and took me upstairs.
    “Harvey, put me down, I’m heavy,” I said, though I didn’t make any move to let go of his neck.
    “Shh, you weigh nothing,” he answered.
    Harvey pushed through to my bedroom door and laid me down onto the bed. With his sympathetic and understanding gaze—not one hint of pity, I noted—he stroked his thumb against my cheek.
    “You’re exhausted; get some sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up,” he said and made a move towards the wingback chair.
    I nodded, bit my bottom lip and raised my eyes to his before he turned away, hoping he’d understand. “Harvey,” I whispered and held out my hand, wanting him to take it, yearning for him to hold me again, even just for a little while. Even if it was the most dangerous thing I could do.
    He studied my extended hand, wavering slightly in front of him, deciding if he was going to take it.
    “Come lie down beside me,” I pleaded and added, “please, I need you.”
    Nodding his head, he pushed back the covers and slipped in alongside me. He reached for me, easing his arms underneath me, his front nestled against my back and bottom, his muscular biceps strong and entangled around me. He took me in his arms, holding me closer than ever before, only one layer of clothing between his naked body and my covered back. I closed my eyes and fell asleep.

11

Sara
    T he next morning the coldness of the room woke me. A chilly breeze wafted inside, and I shivered. I pulled at the covers, inclined my head to the side and studied the time. It was past noon. I reached up and planted both of my palms against my face, feeling a sense of loss as last night’s events came crashing down upon me. Where was Harvey?
    A vague memory surfaced in my mind of his lips on the back of my neck and my shoulders, his fingers exploring and stroking the length of my arms, but as I re-examined the vision, it faded away at the edges, and a hazy fog obscured the view. It was just a dream , I told myself. And yet I dimly recalled me telling him to stop… to go. Fuck, why couldn’t I remember?
    Somewhere, echoing from downstairs, I heard a loud beep, and my sister’s voice came hurtling out of the answering machine. I groaned as I listened to message.
    “Sara, this is Anita. Why aren’t you answering your bloody phone? Anyway, you know why I’m calling, so get off your fat arse and do me the courtesy of phoning me back as soon as you get this. We need to figure out the funeral arrangements.”
    My sister’s voice stopped abruptly, and I presumed that was the end of the message. I slumped back down into the covers and stared up at the ceiling.
    Time disappeared like sand through open fingers, and I didn’t realise that I’d