Stepbrother's Kiss (3 page)

It was almost violent, the way he worked himself with his hand.  But it was beautiful too. Primal and relentless.  I couldn’t look away. 

His eyes were closed and his teeth were gritted like he was in pain.  Then his back arched and his face tilted up to the night sky.  He let out a guttural groan as a jet of white liquid shot up between us and fell to the marble tiles at our feet.

              Then he was quiet again except for the ragged sound of his breathing and the waves in the distance.  Our eyes met then, and still I couldn’t look away.  But he did, looking down as he tucked himself inside his pants.  “You must think I’m a disgusting creep…and I am.”  He zipped his fly and gritted out, “Fuck.”

              “Blaze…” But before I could say more, he rushed inside, leaving me alone and confused, but at the same time, feeling more alive than I had in months. 

I hadn’t changed since moving to Maine, but it seemed like everyone at my new school saw me differently than my previous classmates had. 

Blaze and I had moved from a large, upscale suburb to a quaint coastal town with a much smaller senior class.  All the kids here had known each other forever, and while it might seem like this would make us weird outsiders, instead we were a source of interest. 

I give Blaze most of the credit for this.  He was the tallest guy in school with model good looks and an outlaw quality; he practically oozed James Dean cool. 

Gone was the earnest kid posing as a well-adjusted jock.  Once our parent died, his need to put on a front did too.

He immediately settled into being a mysterious, brooding loner, and the girls at school loved it.  The guys may have resented him, but he was bigger than them, so I guessed they figured it was wiser to try and be his wingman than to mess with him. 

I became cool by association.

Or maybe that wasn’t entirely accurate.

The kids at my new school hadn’t known me at ten, when I had chubby cheeks, a bad haircut and braces.  They didn’t know me as the ordinary, not-popular-but-not-unpopular girl who was in band and usually hung out with the nerds because they were nicer than the popular crowd.

When I was a sophomore at my old school, I’d gotten my braces out, discovered the wonders of make-up, and bought a good flatiron to take the frizz out of my red hair.  My gradual transformation went mostly unnoticed at my old school, except for the time I overheard a few football players laughing and saying,
Jess is totally bangable now.  I’d fuck her all the way to next Friday,
whatever the hell that meant.

But while my improved appearance made for less mortifying yearbook photos, it didn’t do much to improve my social standing.

Then I started at Windham High School in Maine, and suddenly guys wanted to date me.  Girls wanted to be friends with me.  Everyone actually noticed me.

A few girls gave me bitch-face in the hallway, but they were few and far between.  Everyone knew that Blaze and I moved here because we had lost our parents, which gave us added good will.  It’s hard to hate orphans.

Funny thing was, all the attention only made me close myself off more. 

I didn’t know if girls really wanted to be my friend, or if they were just curious.  Just bored with their own lives and looking to be entertained by my family tragedy.

It wasn’t just my parents’ deaths that set me apart.  It was how utterly abnormal my entire life had been.  How could anyone from a normal family possibly understand me? What could we possibly have in common?

Only Blaze understood where I’d come from—who I truly was—because he’d come from the same place too.  And yet as much as I wanted to connect with him, it was when he was around that I felt loneliest.

After what happened on the balcony our first night there, Blaze and I kept our distance.  His emotional walls were firmly back in place, and I had no idea how to get around them, so I went about getting adjusted in the new house and our new school.

Blaze made quick work of screwing his way through the school’s small cheerleading squad.  He had quit playing sports after our parents died, and now he stayed out until all hours on school nights. 

I’d sometimes watch out my bedroom window, waiting for him to come home.  He was always out until at least three in the morning, then he would stumble into the house with his latest date and they’d go to his room.  I could tell by the way their voices carried and how the girl would drape her arm over his shoulder that they’d been drinking out on the beach.

Even though I didn’t want to admit it to myself, no matter how distant Blaze was, I was constantly aware of his presence at the house and in school.

Worse, it hurt me every time I saw him with a different girl.  I thought I’d get used to it, grow numb to seeing him with someone who wasn’t me.  But the truth was, it seemed to hurt worse every time.

What I felt for him was a strange mix of heartache and lust.  Because I wanted him now more than ever. 

Even though I hated seeing him with other girls, it didn’t stop me from fantasizing about him fucking them.  Driving his beautiful erection into them and spewing his hot seed inside them, just like I’d watched him do on the balcony that night.

I wanted to know what it felt like to have him inside me.  It was something I imagined all too often. But what I wanted even more was his friendship. 

And because I couldn’t have either of those things, my loneliness loomed larger every day.  It was especially strong at night, when I’d find myself wishing I could just go to Blaze’s room and fall asleep in his arms.  I knew it would never happen—he was rarely home, and even when he was, I could never have mustered up the courage.

Until an Indian Summer day in early October. 

I was cleaning my room, listening to homemade fireworks going off sporadically on the beach behind our house.  Blaze was out, so I wondered if it was him and some of his friends on the beach setting them off. 

I heard the rumble of an engine as a car pulled up to the house, and when I looked out my window, I saw Blaze getting out of his car alone.  Perhaps it was my loneliness or the late burst of summer heat making me a little crazy, but I left my room do something I’d wanted to do since coming here.

Chapter 4

Present day…

I stare at his message for the hundredth time, my hand shaking every time I look at my phone.  It’s true that ever since I saw him at his engagement party, I haven’t been able to get him out of my mind.

He’s there with me when I go to work and when I come home to my empty apartment.  He’s there when I turn on an old blues song to drown out the silence, and when I pour myself a glass of wine to take the edge off.  He’s there when I get into my empty bed at night with a book, which I can’t concentrate on anyway because I can’t stop thinking about him.  Our past unspools over and over again in my mind, leaving my heart battered and raw.

But through it all, I never expect him to contact me.  I expect for the spell he’s put on me to wear off in time, just like it had before.  And once again, he’d be buried in the back of my mind, nothing more than a collection of sad memories that I try not to think about. 

But drinks on Friday night? 

I’m completely unprepared for this. And he’s engaged for goodness sakes.  What could he possibly want with me? 

I take a breath to steady myself and carefully type my message:

Before I can second guess myself, I hit send.

A few seconds later, his reply pops up:

I type out a short reply, then stare it for a while, trying to think of some extra pleasantries to add to make it all seem more casual. But there’s nothing casual about any of this. 

And I hit send.

Ten years earlier…

I stripped off my night shirt and put on a robe, then made my way down to the pool. 

It was an unseasonably hot night, and when I left the cool confines of the house, the warm air caressed my skin.

I walked to the pool, turned on the patio lights, and dropped my robe.  Then I walked over to the diving board and dove in.

The cool water felt glorious. It was just the distraction I needed.  Not that I’d come out here to be distracted. 

I knew that every room in the back of the house—including Blaze’s room—looked out on the pool.  He would notice the back light on outside, and when he looked out a window, he’d see me swimming naked. 

After swimming for a bit, I would get out of the pool, slowly walk around the side, then dive back in. Then I’d bob up again, making sure my breasts were on display. 

It felt heavenly to be so free. 

It was the first time I’d ever been skinny-dipping and something about being naked in the open air was making me feel reckless.  If Blaze didn’t come out here soon,  maybe I’d go find him.  Or maybe I’d just go back to my room and pleasure myself, like I’d been doing since the night he devoured me on the balcony.

At that moment, I was rewarded by the twitch of a curtain on the second floor.  I knew he was watching now, so I made a show of doing a backstroke that put my entire body on display. 

I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that my little show was for his benefit, so I didn’t look up at him, though I saw the curtain shift a few times out of the corner of my eye, so I knew he was still watching.

After I grew tired of showing off in the water, I sauntered up out of the pool, trying to walk as slowly and sensually as possible.  Then I turned to the pool, giving him a perfect view of my butt, bent over for him and dove in.

I felt good about my little show, and decided it was better to keep him wanting, so I got out of the pool and towel tried my hair before putting on my robe.

As I made my way up to the house, I allowed myself to look up to the window where a lone figure stood in the yellow light.

I was startled to find that it wasn’t Blaze.

Standing there watching me with a hooded gaze was Raine, my absentee guardian.  Ordinarily, the man was never to be found.  He traveled for business all the time, and even when he was home, he avoided us completely.  Mirabeth the housekeeper cooked and cleaned for us, and had begun asking about our day and getting to know us, but Raine was like a ghost.

And yet there he was, watching me. 
Surprise, surprise.

Maybe it was my reckless mood, but I found that I didn’t much care what he just saw.  What he thought of me was none of my concern.  So I simply held his gaze and gave him a wicked smile as I made my way to the door.

Then he pulled the curtain shut between us, and again, I was alone.

Chapter 5

A few days after the incident in Raine’s office, there was a party that Blaze and I were both invited to attend. 

My stepbrother and I spoke so infrequently that neither of us realized we were both going to the same party until he walked in with his latest girlfriend and found me in the living room.

I was sitting on the couch chatting with the girl who’d I’d come with.  When I saw Blaze, I raised a hand in greeting and he tipped his chin up in acknowledgement, and then we both returned to our own separate conversations. 

              After the way my parents had lived and died, I had no desire to touch alcohol.  I knew Blaze drank heavily and often, which surprised me, and I never understood why it appealed to him.

              But tonight, in a crowd of people yet utterly alone, I needed
something
, so I drank.

              And drank.

              And drank some more.

              When the alcohol first took hold, I relished the way it made me feel warm and fuzzy all over. All my problems drifted a million miles away, and I was perfectly happy to be sitting on a stranger’s couch, where I was now talking to a boy from study hall who I never realized was cute before.

              I watched his lips move as he told a boring story about going to a baseball game. 

              I drank another vodka and cranberry juice to make him more interesting.

              After a while, I got tired of listening to him ramble, so I leaned in and kissed him.

              I’d never kissed anyone but Blaze.  When the new guy’s lips enveloped mine, it didn’t feel as heady as kissing Blaze. But it still felt good.  Comforting.  I didn’t feel so alone anymore.

              I twined my arms around his neck and kissed him deeper.  My head felt like it was filled with fizzy bubbles and my eyes were shut, but somehow, I still knew that everyone in the room was staring at me. 

              I didn’t give a fuck.

              It felt so good not to give a fuck.

              So good to press my body against another body, even if it wasn’t Blaze’s. 

I wanted to be closer.

              I sat on his lap, my legs straddling him. Now could kiss him and feel my crotch against his.  The bulge in his jeans pressed against my core, and I wiggled in his lap to get more contact.

              At that moment I felt a tight pressure close around my upper arm and I was pulled off…Jake? John? Jay?...so roughly that I almost lost my footing and fell to the floor.

              “What the
fuck
are you doing?”   Blaze yelled, his face an inch away and his eyes boring into mine.  I wanted to lean in and kiss him instead of Boring Guy, but something in me was aware enough to know that he wouldn’t appreciate my making a scene in front of our class. 

              “Let go of me!” I yelled. “It’s none of your business what I do.”

              “You were practically dry humping this douche in a room full of people!”  He pointed to the guy from my study hall.

              “Do you even know his name?”

              I opened my mouth to answer, but realized I didn’t have anything to say that would help my case. 

              “Come on, let’s get you out of here,” Blaze said, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and leading me out of the room.  “You should know better than to drink that much.”

              “You’re one to talk,” I said. “And now you want to drive me home after you’ve been drinking? Have you learned nothing from your dad?”

              “I only had one beer and I stopped drinking an hour ago.  I knew I had to drive so I cut myself off.”  He opened the passenger side door for me.  “Get in.”

              “Fuck you, Blaze!” I said plaintively as I got into the passenger seat and slammed the door.  “You’re such a chauvinist pig.  Night after night I have to see you manwhoring it up with sluts from our school—“

              “They’re not sluts. They’re perfectly nice young women who just happen to be in touch with their sexuality.”

              I let out a groan. “And yet when I finally find someone to kiss at a party, you practically shove me into a chastity belt.”

              “That was more than just a kiss.  Everyone was staring and I didn’t want people getting the wrong idea.  Trust me, you’ll be thanking me tomorrow.”

              “Wanna bet?”

              He didn’t reply, and we rode the rest of the way in silence. 

              When he pulled into the driveway, I slammed the car door and stormed up to the house to get away from him.  He seemed to keep pace with me effortlessly, and I mentally cursed his long legs.

              As he opened the door, he said. “Listen Jess, I’m sorry if I cockblocked you tonight.  It’s just that I care about you and I don’t want some asshole taking advantage of you at a party because you’re drunk.  You’re my little sister—it’s my job to take care of you.”

              I let out a bitter, mocking laugh.  “I’m
not
your little sister.  I think we both know that very well.”

              “Well you’re like a little sister to me.  Not by blood, but it’s the same difference.”

              Somehow, that was the cruelest thing he could have said to me just then.

              Something inside me broke, and I ran up the staircase before he saw my tears.