Side Swiped By My Step Brother (15 page)

              “Okay, okay,” she says. “I need to take a break. I think there’s one of those lounge rafts and a glass of wine with my name on it.” She splashes a little more water at me, I do the same, and she swims off.

              Cheeky bird.

              Emma, though, is not looking too cheeky herself. I swim over, where she hasn’t really moved from the other end of the pool.

              “What do you want?” she says as I approach. “If you’re coming over to ask me to join you and my sister in a threesome, you can forget about it.”

              “Are you feeling neglected? I was hoping you’d come over and let me toss you in the air, too.”

              “So are you planning to sleep with her, too? She’s got a fiancée.”

              “I heard. And no, I’m not planning on sleeping with her. I just thought I’d stop by for a friendly chat.” I lower my voice. “Obviously I wouldn’t try to shag you in the pool with our families present.”

              “That’s so considerate of you.” But she’s trying not to smile, I can tell. She might not realize it, but it’s quite a turn on, this pretend resistance of hers. I position myself next to her, our shoulders touching.

              “And let me just say—I’m not attracted to your sister. You women might find it hard to believe, but a guy can interact with a woman without wanting to shag her.”

              “Yeah, I don’t know if I believe that.”

              “It helps when you’re having fantastic sex with someone else. Though I do think it’s cute that you’re jealous of the attention I was giving your sister.”

              “I’m not jealous.”

              “Okay sure. I’ll give you some attention now, though. It’s nice that this pool is so big, I can barely even hear their conversation down there.”

              “I don’t think they’re actually talking. They’re probably all passed out drunk on those floats. We should make sure they don’t fall off and drown.”

              I laugh. “I think they’ll be all right. Christ. It’s hard to believe the big day’s coming up.” I let my hand drift over to her hip. When I make contact she stiffens but doesn’t move away. I trace my finger along the line of her hipbone, the skin perfectly smooth, perfectly soft.

              “It’ll be good,” she says. “They’ll be married and everyone can go back to their lives. I assume you’ll be going back to London?”

              I slip my fingers into her bathing suit bottom. Her pubic hair is short, trimmed and neat, and I run my fingers through it, before moving lower. I start rubbing her clit. Were anyone to look over, it would appear as though we were doing nothing more than engaging in that perfectly friendly chat. She takes a sharp breath in.

              “I will be heading back to London. Have you ever been there before?”

              “No.”

I move my fingers counterclockwise, then clockwise. “You might like to come for a visit sometime then.”

              “I don’t know about that.” Her voice is strangled sounding, as though she’s in pain. I glance over, without actually turning my head, and see that she’s got a dazed expression on her face. I stop rubbing her clit and slide a finger down into her pussy. She bites her lip and a small mewling sound escapes from her mouth. I feel her hand move toward my cock. I gently but firmly remove it.

              “No,” I say. “Not because I don’t want you to, but if you start that now, we all know where it’s headed.” At the other end of the pool, Dad and Stephanie are floating on their lounge rafts, laughing about something. I slide another finger into her. “I think you’d love to visit London. I could show you around.”

              “That . . . that might be nice,” she manages to say.

              Her muscles contract around my fingers, as though they’re trying to pull me in further. Ah, I’d love to get my cock in her this very second. I’m rock hard and probably setting myself up for a spectacular case of blue balls later, but then again, maybe not, if I can get Emma to myself for a little while.

              Her chest heaves, the tops of her breast appearing and disappearing in the water.

              “Better keep quiet though,” I say softly. “And if you thrash around too much, they’re going to think you’re drowning. Though I’d save you, of course. Give you mouth-to-mouth resuscitation if need be.”

              The closer she gets to coming, the tighter her muscles squeeze, and I can feel dozens of tiny little twitches, like pulses, all building toward the moment when her entire body is going to seize up and she’s going to be completely overtaken. I have to torque my arm at something of a weird angle, but I manage to twist around enough that I can keep my fingers inside her and simultaneously rub her clit with my thumb, which I know is going to send her over that edge in five, four, three, two, one . . .

              Her thighs clamp together, a rush of warm liquid cascades over my fingers, her hips buck. She starts to cry out but slips under the water before the sound really has time to register. I pull my hand away and she resurfaces, gasping, brushing wet tendrils of hair back from her face. Rivulets of water run down her face, her arms, making her skin slick and shiny. She’s fucking gorgeous. I know she thinks that to me, this is just about the sex and nothing more, but it’s progressed beyond that. I can’t really explain it, other than the clichéd I feel something with her that I’ve never felt with anyone else, but it’s true. It’s true, and it’s disconcerting as hell if I’m to be honest. Yes, I want to do all sorts of nasty things with her, but I also just want to be with her too. Be around her. Be able to go out and hold hands, do things to make her laugh.

              “If I could, I’d jump into your arms right now,” she says. “But I’m not going to do that. Because you know I think what we’re doing is wrong.” Oh bloody hell. This again.

              “Yet you keep doing it.”

              “I know. And it bothers me. But really what I think is wrong about it is the fact that we’re going to be stepsiblings. We’re not stepsiblings yet though, not until our parents get married. I’ve been told that amazing sex is not something to be discounted, so I’m not going to do that.”

              I feel a smile spreading across my face. I knew she’d come around. Ah, I love being right about these things.

              “What I am willing to do,” she continues, “is to sleep with you until our parents get married. Once they have the wedding, then we need to stop.”

              Huh. Well, that was not entirely what I expected to hear.

              “This whole negotiating-for-sex is a bit foreign to me,” I say. “I guess I don’t totally understand your way of thinking. Or, rather, I do understand it but it seems like this whole thing is dependent on what really is nothing more than a technicality.”

              She frowns. “A technicality? A wedding, you mean?”

              “It’s just that . . . you’re okay with shagging so long as our parents are not married. What if our parents decided to never get married and just live together instead? Would that change things?”

              “I don’t know. And, seeing as that’s not going to happen, it seems pointless to speculate about it.”

              “Fair enough. I suppose what I have a problem with is not doing something just because of someone else’s actions.”

              “It depends what that action is. And in our case, that action is going to make us stepsiblings. And, like you said yourself, we’re adults. So I’m an adult and I’m making a decision. And my decision is that once the wedding is over, so is whatever we have going on right now. But I do like you a lot, and I do love what you do to my body. I’ll admit that I’d like that to continue just a little bit longer.”

              “Does that mean I can come visit you tonight after you’re in bed? If I promise to be very quiet?”

              She gives me a serious look but then nods. “If you promise to be very quiet.”

              After that, I’m more than ready for bed, but we stay in the pool a while longer. I swim some laps, then stealthily sneak up on Jessica and flip her raft over. That instigates a splashing fight that everyone partakes in, and then finally, finally, they’re ready to call it a night.

              “I’m exhausted!” I say, faking as big a yawn as I can. “I am definitely ready for bed!”

              I say goodnight to everyone, giving Emma the eye only as I’m leaving the living room. Dad catches up to me as I’m about to walk up the stairs.

              “There is one thing I meant to tell you today,” he says, “and I just kept forgetting.”

              “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

              “Well, you may have forgotten this,” Dad says, “but I did mention something about a surprise on the drive over here.”

              “You’re right,” I say, vaguely recalling some sort of conversation we had in his car. I cannot, for the life of me, imagine what kind of surprise he’s got in store.

              “Well, it’s still happening. The surprise that is. There was just a bit of a hold up, but I didn’t want you to think that it wasn’t going to come to fruition.”

              “Whether it does or not Dad, it’s okay with me. You didn’t really have to do something like that, whatever the surprise ends up being.”

              The sly, sideways smile he gives me does spark a bit of interest about what this surprise of his just might be. “Oh, I think you’ll be very pleased,” he says. “Very pleased.”

I forget about our conversation pretty quickly. There’s really no point in speculating anyway; I have a good feeling that whatever the surprise is, it’s not going to actually work out. So I go upstairs and take a quick shower to rinse the chlorine off. My cock has been either rock hard or semi-hard all night. I brush my teeth, take a piss, then go back into my room. I will visit Emma, but I want to let her think I might have forgotten, I want her to fall asleep, I want to go in there and wake her up by kissing her neck, whispering her name into her ear.

I lie down on my bed to wait. If she’s serious about not sleeping together ever again after the wedding, we don’t have much time, and I’d like to be with her as much as possible. But deep down, I really believe that she’s not just going to be able to turn her feelings off, that she’ll realize the connection we have is not something that you should just ignore.

Chapter Eighteen

Emma

I hear Jai in the bathroom, brushing his teeth, taking a leak. I think that he’s probably going to come into my room when he’s done, but he doesn’t. I change into a tank top and a pair of boxer shorts. The rest of the house is quiet, everyone else asleep. I could crawl into bed. Who knows if he’s even going to come in tonight? We’ve had a lot of sex and maybe he’s tired.

              But I’m not. I’m wide awake. Then I remember the three-hour nap I took earlier. Damn it! That seems like a lifetime ago, but it really wasn’t. Instead of getting into bed, I go back into the bathroom. The door that goes into Jai’s room is shut, so I walk over to it and press my ear against it. I don’t hear anything.

              I open the door and it’s dark; I can just make out the outline of the bed. I can’t tell if he’s asleep or not, but I go over and I see him lying there, on his back, elbows sticking out at an angle, hands behind his head. I can tell by his breathing, though, that he’s asleep.

              I should just go back to my room. I should crawl into bed, use my new vibrator if I really need to get off that badly. But just being in his presence makes me want to be near him, have him in me. I climb onto his bed and straddle him. His cock hardens a little against my ass. I put my hands on his chest and lean over him, kiss him once on the lips.

              He stirs, taking a deep breath.

              “Mmm,” he says. His arms come around me, his hands going to my ass, up my back, down my arms, around to my chest. He’s more awake now. “Why, hello,” he says, his voice husky. “I was planning on waiting until you were asleep to come do this to you, but I guess all our previous activities had me a bit knackered.”

              He pulls the top of my tank top down and ducks his head, takes one of my breasts into his mouth, his teeth lightly grazing my nipple. His hands run up and down the length of my body. I drop my pelvis onto his, feeling his cock and how hard it’s grown.

              “I’ve been waiting for this all night,” he says.

              I rub myself against him while he kisses and plays with my breasts. I can feel myself getting wetter, the crotch of the boxer shorts becoming damp, then soaked.

              “Get those things off,” he says. He’s got his own pair of boxer shorts on. “Get these things off.” He yanks at them, jerks them down, and I do the same to my own.

              “Ah,” he sighs. “That’s better. I liked having you on top of me. I want to do that again, but this time I want you to lie on me, your back against my chest.”

              “Okay,” I say, positioning myself like exactly how he described, spreading my legs over his so he can slide himself in. I’m so wet that he doesn’t have a problem. We fit well together, me lying on top of him, my back against his chest, our legs entwined. He reaches around with one hand and rubs my clit, the other plays with my nipples. He nips at my neck, and I let my arms fall to the side, feeling deliciously trapped by him. I couldn’t get up right now even if I wanted to.

              Good thing I don’t want to. Doing it in this position lets me experience him from a different angle, and right away I can tell he’s hitting a spot that he hasn’t before. Or hasn’t in this way. There’s all the normal pre-orgasm sensations that I’ve become so used to feeling with him, but also something more, and it happens each time the head of his cock rubs against this certain spot. It’s like an additional blast of pleasure that just seems to get stronger and stronger in its intensity. His fingers on my clit are slick with my juices, and I reach around and put my hand there too, so I can feel how wet I am, feel the way his cock is moving in and out, how stretched I am to accommodate him, how fucking good it feels.

              I start to move my pelvis in time with his thrusts, and this lets him get even further, pressing harder against that spot. He stops rubbing my clit and licks his fingers, then brings them back down, and the extra moisture has me curling my toes in delirious ecstasy. My brain is buzzing on and off, like it’s about to short circuit. There’s too much of this amazing feeling coursing through me, and it’s like I can feel his energy too. His cock pulses inside me, his breath hot next to my ear.

              I grit my teeth. I’m hyperventilating, trying to keep quiet, or at least trying not to scream, but I have to be able to release this somehow, there has to be some sort of release or I swear I am going to spontaneously combust—

              When I come, it’s like being sucked through a vortex at lightning fast speed. I explode out the other end and my inner thighs, my bottom, suddenly feel soaked. Jai grabs my hips and swivels me a few times and then he comes, and there’s another warm rush. We both lie there, breathing hard. There is a definite puddle underneath us.

              “Um . . . Did I just pee on you?”

              “Holy shit,” he says. “That was incredible. Did you what? Just pee on me?”

              “Yeah . . . or something?”

              He laughs quietly. “That, my dear, would be the elusive female ejaculation.”

              “What?”

              “Congratulations. Most women can’t do that. Or think they can’t, anyway.”

              “Huh,” I say. “I didn’t know females could ejaculate.”

              “Well they can. And you did.”

              “That’s . . . pretty cool then.” At least I didn’t pee on him.

              “Be proud of yourself.”

              “Well, I guess I have you to thank.”

              “Most guys do consider it a successful shagging if they manage to get their lady to squirt.”

              I blush, but it’s dark so he can’t see it. I shouldn’t feel bashful to have these conversations with him.

              “You’ve gotten me off four times today,” I say.

              “Today was a good day. I hope tomorrow will be even better.”

              I snuggle against him, his skin warm against mine, my body still humming with pleasure, my thighs still slick. I lay my hand on his chest, feel the reverberation of his heartbeat.

              “This is nice,” he breathes. He turns his head and brushes his lips across my forehead.

              It is nice, but what can’t happen, is the two of us falling asleep together and having my mother or sister or his father come in and find us in the morning. So we cuddle for a little bit, but I can feel myself starting to drift, and I can tell that he’s headed that way too.

              “I’m going to get up,” I whisper. “I’m going to go back to my own bed. But thank you. I know I’ll sleep well tonight.”

              “You will,” he says, his voice thick with sleep and contentment. “I know I will. Sweet dreams, love.”

              I stop in the bathroom and hop in the shower quickly, just to rinse everything off of me. When I’m back in my own bed, I lie there and stare at the ceiling, wondering how it’s going to be possible to just stop having the best sex I’ve ever had. In less than week. It doesn’t seem fair, but I’m going to have to.

              You might as well enjoy it while you can, I think, before I drift off to sleep.              The lake house suddenly seems full of people, a few that I know, most that I don’t. There are people setting up a big white tent right next to the pool, two florists covering every available space both inside and out with flowers, the caterers setting up the tables and chairs and going over the menu one last time with my mother.

              Other people begin arriving, too—my mom’s friends, Jessica’s fiancé, Chris, some actors that I recognize from movies I saw when I was younger. There are people everywhere, which makes sneaking off with Jai even easier, though you’d think it would be the other way around.

              On Friday, we have the wedding rehearsal, which is over rather quickly. There’s not a whole lot to remember; the ceremony itself is rather simple. Jess and I are the bridesmaids, Jai is the best man, and we stand there, flanking our parents, while one of Zack’s longtime friends, who is a justice of the peace, does the service. Mom and Zack have written their own vows, which they’re not going to say until tomorrow.

              As we stand there, Jai catches my eye and winks, so discreetly it’s like he was just blinking with one eye. Then he raises his eyebrows at our parents, who might not want to say their vows yet but certainly have no problem practicing their “you may kiss the bride” kiss.

              You really can tell how much they love each other, and, maybe for the first time, I think that this could work out for them. It really could. And I feel happy for my mother, but then I also realize what it means for Jai and me, and the wedding is tomorrow, which means tonight is the last night that we’ll be sleeping together.              I’m getting ready for the rehearsal dinner when there’s a knock on the door, the door leading from the bathroom into my room. Jai.

              “There’s no rule about the best man not being able to see the bridesmaids before the wedding ceremony, right?” he says, coming into the room. He’s already changed and looks stunning in a black and white striped polo shirt and dark green chinos. He’s gotten a fair amount of sun since we’ve been here and his tan is a deep golden brown, making his eyes seem all the brighter. He comes right over to me and leans his forehead against mine. “Your freckles have almost completely disappeared,” he says.

              “They’ll come back once I lose the tan.” I pull back a little so I can look up at his face. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about, so I’m glad you stopped in.”

              “Okay,” he says. “And what might that be?”

              “I am really bothered by the fact that we’re going to be stepsiblings.”

              He gives me a patient smile. “I know, love. We’ve had this conversation before.” He moves his hand toward me like he’s going to stroke the side of my face, but I pull my head back.

              “But our parents are going to be married tomorrow. Tomorrow. Then we’ll officially be stepbrother and sister. And we said . . . we said we were going to stop doing this once that happened. So we have to. And I guess I just wanted to talk about that. Even though I’m not really even sure what else there is to say, except I feel sad knowing that this is going to be our last night together.”

              His expression is hard to read. “So that’s what you want to do.”

              “Jai. That’s what we said we’d do.”

              “I realize we said that.” A cold note has crept into his tone. “And perhaps I’ve just misread everything that’s gone on so far, but don’t you think we have something more than just a simple physical attraction? Is that something you’re so willing to just ignore?”

              “Of course we have a physical attraction—I knew that the second I saw you.”

              “You’re not hearing what I’m saying, Emma. I’m saying that there’s something more than just that physical attraction. If it was just about sex, yeah, it’d be easy enough to walk away from. There are plenty of girls to shag. And I’m sure you’d have no trouble finding some other guy. But—”

              “No,” I say. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

              “Aren’t you the one who brought it up?”

              “I don’t want you to try to convince me to keep doing this.” I’m afraid if he keeps talking, I’ll just give in. I’ll just do what he wants, which might, in part, be what I want, but it’s also not right. It’s just not. “I’m sorry.”

              “Fucking hell, I’m so sick of this shit!” he shouts, and I jump back, surprised at his sudden outburst. His eyes flash with anger. A muscle in his jaw quivers. “You drive me fucking crazy, do you know that? You have no clue what you want, do you? You’re naïve—completely and utterly naïve. You think feelings like this happen between two people all the time? They don’t. I’m a little older than you and I’ve far more experience, and let me tell you, this is not something to just walk away from. But that’s exactly what you want to do because you’re afraid—afraid of what other people will say, what they’re going to think. But who gives a fuck? Who gives a bloody fuck what other people think? Someone is always going to have a problem with the way you do something. You’re never going to be able to make everyone happy. The sooner you learn that, the better off you’ll be. So tell me—why do you care so much about what other people think? Do you give a toss at all about what I think? How I feel?”

              He stares hard at me, waiting for an answer. “I guess I do care what other people think,” I say finally. “At least about some things. And having sex with my stepbrother is one of those things, apparently. It’s wrong. It’s immoral. It’s . . . it’s just not what we’re supposed to be doing! And maybe it wasn’t right of me to say that we could keep doing it until the wedding. Maybe I should’ve just told you to stop then and there, and we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now. But the sex has been so good. And yes, I’m human. I like to feel good things. Maybe if I was a better person or a stronger person, then I’d just be able to tell you we’re never going to have sex again, and it wouldn’t matter to me what you said, I’d just have willpower. I’d be able to not sleep with you.”

              “That’s all this is to you, isn’t it?” He laughs, little more than a short, angry bark. “You think this is just about us fucking, and the fact that we shouldn’t do that anymore after our parents get married.”