Filthy Dirty Brother: A Forbidden Cousins Romance

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Filthy Dirty Brother: A Forbidden Cousins Romance Page 11

by Ford, Mia


  Bert’s eyes lit up slightly and a wide smile spread across his face.

  “That sounds great,” he said. “I’ll see you Saturday at six.”

  “Great,” I replied.

  Bert nodded and left my office. I threw myself back into my work with a newfound motivation. I was feeling so much happier than before. As strange as it might have sounded I was feeling a bit supercharged as if I had some control over my life. Ever since I arrived on Sam’s doorstep it had been one crisis in my head after another. I felt so anxious all the time, so guilty, as if someone had me literally in their grip and I just couldn’t relax. I tried to chalk it up to the new job and being so far from my family, but I knew now that most of it was caused by Sam.

  But it wouldn’t have worked if I didn’t have real feelings for him. I knew this wholeheartedly, but did my best to keep that little secret under wraps from my subconscious mind.

  I found a good place to stop my work and went downstairs to grab a quick lunch from the café on the corner. It was becoming something of a routine of mine. It was nice taking a bit of a break in the middle of the day after finishing some good work to have a refreshing bite. It gave me a chance to reflect on things, to clear my head, get some fresh air, and to be around other people. If I could just clear up this mess with Sam, then I would be all set up for the perfect life. I was happy otherwise.

  After I finished my sandwich I pulled out my phone and began scanning apartments and rooms for rent in the area. I’d looked earlier that morning but found nothing, and this search did not seem to be yielding any better results. It seemed that everyone wanted way too much money, especially up front, or they wanted you to follow all sorts of weird and silly rules. I was stuck for lack of a better world, at least for the time being. Sam probably knew this. I didn’t have any money saved and I couldn’t afford anything up front to get a new place, which made getting a new place all but impossible at the moment. I thought briefly about asking my parents for some money, and they would have probably have given it, but I didn’t want to cause them to worry or make it seem that I was already having problems making it on my own. I wasn’t a child anymore. I was going to stand strong on my own two feet and though I had a problem I was going to deal with it one way or another.

  I was going to set Sam straight. He didn’t have any more power over my head or my feelings then I gave to him. I knew that. Deep down I knew it. But why couldn’t I just relax and ignore him?

  The rest of the afternoon was pretty uneventful, but at least I got a lot of work done and I left work with a date for Saturday’s banquet.

  When I got back to Sam’s place he was sitting on the couch watching some horror movie. I could have sworn he literally did nothing else all day, but he claimed that he practiced with his band, wrote songs, and uploaded demos online during the day. I hadn’t seen any evidence of this, but I didn’t really care. Sam was not my friend as he had originally claimed to be; he was a cretin. I was done with him. As soon as I saved up enough money I was determined to leave.

  “Hey, there,” Sam said as I came in.

  “Hey,” I replied.

  I stepped past him to the kitchen and grabbed a cold beer from the fridge. I popped the cap and strode back into the living room to see what he was watching. I didn’t recognize it; some movie about a psychotic clown it looked like…

  “What are you watching?” I asked. The clown on the screen was cutting some girl in half with a saw.

  It was beyond disgusting; I almost gagged and had to look away. I’d never thought myself squeamish, but that was beyond gory.

  Sam laughed. “Psycho Clown Massacre.”

  “Ok, looks like another productive day for you,” I said.

  “Yeah, it was,” Sam replied. “Hey, do you want to go to a standup comedy show Saturday? There is a comedian named Billy Crawford, one of the funniest guys on Comedy Central. He’s going to be in Phoenix at Stand Up Live. Great venue.”

  I smiled. This was it. I was almost giddy.

  “Um, normally I’d say yes,” I said, “But I’ve got a date Saturday night.”

  Sam paused a moment and then paused his movie. He was looking at me now with a weird, confused look on his face.

  “A date?” He asked.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Why?”

  “Nah, I just didn’t realize you knew anybody in town yet,” Sam said. “That’s cool. Where are you two lovebirds going?”

  I was surprised and a little disappointed at how well Sam seemed to be taking the news, but I knew he had to be shaking furious. Sam was used to getting what he wanted. And this sort of a setback had to be devastating to him, but he was so damn good at hiding his true feelings and intentions. The guy had the best poker face I’d ever seen.

  “Well, if you must know I am going to a work banquet with a co-worker of mine,” I said.

  “Ah, nice,” Sam said.

  “Yeah, it should be fun,” I said. “They do this every year. It’s supposed to be some big gala event.”

  “So, you will be all dressed up and sexier than ever?” Sam asked.

  “You are such a pervert,” I said.

  “And? You are going to be so bored with this nerdy work guy that you will be practically begging me to come and rescue you,” Sam said.

  “What the hell are you babbling about? You don’t even know this guy.”

  “Is he an architect? An accountant?” Sam asked.

  “He’s an architect just like I am,” I replied.

  “Yeah, I bet he wears a nice, little suit, with perfectly quaffed hair, and does he wear glasses? I’ll bet he does.”

  I was getting angry but I tried to hold it in. I couldn’t let Sam get to me. He was trying to deflect his own anger back at me. I needed to draw him in, not the other way around.

  “It’s none of your business,” I said.

  “No, but trust me when I say that you will be so bored,” Sam said. “You might try to be Miss Career Woman Practical, and maybe you are, but when it comes to men you need a guy who is a nonconformist. You want a guy who doesn’t bend to the will of society. You want a guy who does his own thing.”

  “Wait; let me guess—I want a guy like you?” I asked sarcastically.

  Sam laughed and smiled.

  God, he was so damn conceited. His arrogance was the worst I’d ever seen. I was so repulsed by it, yet I couldn’t stop thinking about being with Sam. If he’d stood up right, then and started to kiss me I probably would have let him. I would have let my mind go and allowed my body to surrender to my primal urges. And I would have loved every second of it. Later I would have felt confused as to why I loved it, but I wouldn’t be able to deny that this was what I wanted. It was what I needed.

  Sam repulsed me in so many ways, mostly because he was the exact opposite of the type of guy I always saw myself with. And he let me be the exact opposite of who I was supposed to be sometimes, and I loved that idea.

  “You know I’m right,” Sam said. “And the more you fight your urges and try to ignore them the more miserable you are going to become. If you don’t end up with me then you will end up with a guy who is a lot like me, somewhere down the road. It’s nature. You need a guy who will give you permission to be your true, authentic self. And you can blame it on him. You need a scapegoat.”

  I didn’t know what to say. Every single word coming out of Sam’s mouth was hitting close to home. The more he spoke the more I knew that he knew me better than I even knew myself. What was I doing? Was I really going to end up with an arrogant, narcissistic, bad boy like him? I’d always saw myself with a nice, stable, guy. I wanted a man with a career, a man with a future.

  No. Sam was a master manipulator. He was amazing at finding the things deep inside that you didn’t like about yourself and exploiting them to draw you to his world. At times I felt he was a textbook sociopath.

  “You need a job,” I said before leaving the room.

  I could feel Sam’s eyes boring a hole into the back of me as
I walked away. He expected me to turn around to see if I was checking that I had gotten to him, but I knew I had. The only thing that seemed to really aggravate Sam was telling him he wasn’t going to get something he wanted or felt entitled to and pointing out to him what a lazy waste of space he really was sometimes.

  I closed my bedroom door behind me and groaned silently to myself. That man could get me so angered that I could hardly stand it. And the reason he got to me so much was because I felt he might be right most of the time. I did feel repressed a bit, but didn’t most people? I’ve never been that different from others. Sam was the one who lived on the fringes of society. His day had no structure to it. He just did what he wanted whenever he wanted to do it, and while I admired that briefly, I knew that it would never bring real fulfillment to his life.

  I changed into some casual clothes and then sat on my bed for several minutes. I didn’t want to see Sam right away, not after the exchange we’d just had. I wished we could just make up and I wished Sam would just kiss me and get it over with. I wanted him so badly.

  But why? Why did I want him? I just didn’t know what was going on anymore. I was so close to just giving in to it all.

  Sam had a point—why was I fighting my true feelings so hard?

  Chapter Twelve

  Sam

  I turned off the television and sat in the darkness of my living room for several minutes. It was nice, the silence. It was one of the first nights since Kay had come to live with me that I’d had to myself. The days were nice and quiet as always, but there was something to be said for a quiet evening alone with my thoughts. I used to love my relaxing nights. It was a great way to unwind after the stress of the day, and today had been pretty stressful. Kay had left early that morning to go shopping to get the perfect dress to wear to the banquet tonight and then she was getting her hair done for some reason. I thought her hair was just fine. If this dorky Poindexter she was going out with couldn’t see that then he really didn’t deserve an amazing woman like her on his arm for the evening.

  Dammit.

  I hated to think about it, but ever since she’d mentioned the banquet earlier in the week it had been driving me nuts. I hid it pretty well, but I felt like I was losing Kay. I’d made so much progress with her, but if she was spending time with some other guy then that made all the progress I’d made with her start to vanish bit by bit. I had to find a way to make up for this lost ground, but I had to tread carefully. If I went at it full boar then I would scare her off and I risked becoming too emotionally involved, which would have been the kiss of death.

  So, for now I just pretended not to notice or care where she spent her time.

  I wished the band would have had another gig tonight, but the past several weeks we had been fighting tooth and nail everywhere to land some regular Saturday night spots, but every good bar already had a steady Saturday night band and they weren’t interested in some nobody band that hardly anyone knew anything about. It was a jungle out there.

  I’d toyed with the idea of packing it in and just forming a wedding band or some top level cover band. At least you could say you made a full-time living as a musician. Hell, maybe then I would have been able to tell my dad to take his money and shove it, but I just couldn’t swallow my ego enough to sell out to play music I didn’t feel passionately about.

  Just then my phone rang.

  It was Chase.

  “Hey,” I answered.

  “Dude, where are you?” Chase asked. He sounded his typical, drunk self.

  “I’m home, why?” I asked.

  “Because I have four chicks here at my place all ready to go. Man it’s too many for me to handle. You should get over here right now. It’s a hot chick bonanza!”

  I laughed. Chase was the most entertaining dude I knew.

  “Nah,” I said. “I’m beat. I’ll just crash here and enjoy some chill time.”

  “What? What are you talking about? You never turn down sure thing chicks. What is wrong with you?”

  I paused before answering. I knew exactly what was wrong with me. If I tried to make it with any other women, I was going to feel guilty. I was going to feel ashamed. In my mind, I’d already decided that Kay and I were an item and as strange as it was to say or even to just think it, I didn’t want to disappoint her. Of course, I knew that we were not a thing and she wouldn’t have given two shits less where I spent my time or with whom, but it was the principle of the thing. I just wanted to be with her and only her.

  And I’d never come close to feeling like that with any other woman. What in the world was happening to me? This was going far beyond mere infatuation. I wanted Kay. I needed her. There was nothing else to it.

  “Yeah, I’m sure. Call one of the other guys,” I said. “I’m out.”

  I hung up the phone and sat there feeling a bit depressed and wondering if I was really wasting my time waiting for Kay to come around, or if I was just losing my mind.

  I kept picturing Kay wearing that sweet outfit she was wearing when she left. I barely got a look at the guy picking her up because she’d gone downstairs to meet him, but I had gotten a whiff of how amazing she looked. I couldn’t get the picture out of my mind. I had to have her. She was all I thought about anymore. To have her so close to me and yet for her to feel so far away was absolute torture. It was tearing me up.

  I had to get out of there. My apartment felt like it was closing in all around me and I couldn’t breathe. I was being smothered, but I didn’t know by what. I just knew I had to move.

  The moment I sped off down the road on my motorcycle I began to feel better. There was just something about taking off on the bike that released some wild endorphin rush through my system. The wind on my face, the freedom of the open road, even with traffic all around me, it was a release.

  I headed out of town until I reached the outskirts where I could really cut loose and do some damage on the road. I roared the bike up into high gear until I was doing almost eighty-five miles per hour. It was a touch above the speed limit, but the cops usually weren’t out this way on Saturday nights, preferring to set up checkpoints to catch drunks leaving the bars in town. I felt free.

  For a few minutes at least I was able to concentrate on myself and the bike and not think about Kay and how much I missed her tonight. No matter how hard I tried, her sweet image would not leave me. That picture of her in that amazing red dress, her beautiful curves on full display, along with her elegance, grace, and beauty was overwhelming. I would have given anything to trade places with that guy that night. It would have meant the world to me to be there at that banquet with Kay on my arm, to be eating, dancing, holding her close, and being introduced to all of her new, idiotic co-worker friends. I hated corporate culture with a blind passion, but I would have stomached all of it just to be with her right then and there.

  I eventually made my way to the Backboard, a small pool hall that I frequented. It was not much more than a hole in the wall bar, but it had a great assortment of pool tables and cue sticks that were all actually level. Sometimes I played in pool tournaments there, some eight ball and some nine ball. I’d even won a couple.

  I walked inside the bar and surveyed the scene. It was about the usual crowd for a Saturday night. For whatever reason their biggest night was Sunday, which was usually when they had their tournaments.

  I ordered a beer, found an empty table, popped a few quarters in, and grabbed a decent cue. I racked the balls up and broke them hard. A few solids but a few more stripes fell. I decided to start working on the stripes and then switch.

  One by one the shots sank in. I’d always loved the sound and the feel of a clean pool shot. There was something hypnotic and totally rhythmic about it. There was a clarity, a peace of mind. It was a great way to keep bad thoughts from the head.

  I was just beginning to enjoy myself when I noticed out of the corner of my eye a beautiful woman striding up to the table. She didn’t seem interested in playing, but she was very interested
in watching me. This woman was striking. She was average height, with a large, round chest, beautiful face, long brunette hair hanging just past her shoulders in that natural, straight style I loved so much, and the cutest legs protruding out of a knee high summer skirt. She was an amazing looking BBW. And I was instantly smitten.

  Of course I played it cool and ignored her for a bit. I didn’t want to give too much away after all. That wasn’t the way the game was played.

  I kept my head down and continued to shoot out the rack, barely missing a shot. And best of all for about three minutes I didn’t even think about Kay.

  Until this woman started to speak with me and the guilt became overwhelming.

  “Looking good,” she said. “I haven’t seen too many guys shoot pool that way.”

  I nodded at her and barely smiled. God, she was hot looking, but the more I realized this the dirtier I felt. What would Kay think if she was there? Why was I even paying attention to this woman? She was beautiful, but she was not Kay. No, she wasn’t Kay by a long shot.

  But Kay wasn’t mine. I kept reminding myself this over and over, as if it was a mantra I was trying to sear into my brain. But I kept forgetting. I could not let this imprint me.

  “Do you come here often?” She asked. “I’m Debbie, by the way.”

  I smiled. “Hi, Debbie.”

  I hated that I was even being social with this woman. What in the world was wrong with me? There was no reason on earth why I shouldn’t have been trying to get back to this woman’s place for an amazing evening. Hell, Kay was out with another man right then and there. I could have bet dollars to donuts that she sure as hell was not worrying about me and what type of evening I was having. No, she was gone on her fancy, merry way with that jerk.

  All of this was getting out of hand. I found myself facing the very real possibility that all of my plans for Kay and I were silly and childish. They were never going to come true. What kind of an idiot was I to even suggest such a thing? I’d made a complete fool out of myself.

 

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