Foster Brother's Arms

by Blake, Penny

  Another series of images come to mind unbidden. The police arrive and take us to separate rooms at the police station, and then ask me again and again what happened. And again and again I tell them everything, while they look at me with soft, sympathetic eyes.

  Raine and I pass each other on our way to separate interrogation rooms at the police station. He reaches a hand out and holds mine for a moment before we’re pulled apart and shuffled into different rooms again. That’s the last time I ever see him.

  Until today.

  “No really, my foster parents are both great,” I say. “They’re not perfect, but it’s a safe home and I have my schoolwork and my friends.” I put my hand on his shoulder and meet his eyes. “Really Raine, I’m fine. I promise.”

  I only hope he believes my lies.

  Raine comes over the next night too, and we both climb down the tree next to my bedroom window. His motorcycle is parked a little further down the block, and he’d promised me a ride tonight.

  He hands me his spare helmet and gets on the bike, then I get on behind him. He takes my hands in his and guides my arms around his waist, instructing me to hold on tight.

  The bike growls to life, and then we’re speeding down the road. There’s nothing between us and the wind, and as the road unfurls beneath us like an endless ribbon, I feel like we’re flying. Woooo! I scream into the night, and Raine speeds up even faster.

  Every night we do this. He shows up at my window and I escape with him for a few hours. And every night we ride the lonely road that connects his town to mine.

  We usually end up parking along a deserted stretch of beach close to his family’s mansion, which I can see across the water. It’s magnificent—an enormous, sprawling white beach house that’s four stories high and that, according to Raine, even has an elevator. I never knew such a thing existed—a house with an actual elevator inside.

  No one is ever out on this quiet little patch of beach but the two of us, where we lay on a blanket looking up at the stars. We talk about whatever comes to mind, catching up on all we’ve seen and done in the past four years.

  “So after I left the Mackenzie’s, I moved into the Barker house,” I tell him. “I was there for about a year with ten other foster kids before living where I do now.”

  “It’s a shame you’ve been shuffled around so much,” Raine says. He’s been with the Everly family since we were split up. After all the police interviews and an investigation by child services, it was determined that we were both victims of severe abuse, so Raine wasn’t shipped off to juvenile detention for what he did to our foster father that night. Instead, he was placed in a new foster home and required to see a psychologist specializing in severe child abuse and neglect.

  Not that Raine ever opened up to the doctor. He told me he didn’t trust adults, so he told the therapist whatever he wanted to hear. Raine wanted to prove he was making quick progress in order to get out of treatment as quickly as possible, even if everything he said was a lie.

  “It was awful, wasn’t it?” I say as we lay shoulder to shoulder on the beach blanket, looking up at the full moon. “Living with that horrible man, in that awful house. I still have nightmares about it. You always got it the worst, Raine. And I know it was my fault. Whenever he’d come after me, you’d do something bad to get him to come after you instead. You always protected me like that.” I turn to face him, and I admire his profile as he stares up at the sky. “Thank you.”

  “It’s over now so I try not to think about it,” he says. “I don’t want to get angry or sad about it…I don’t want him to have that power over me. I don’t want to think of him at all.”

  “Do you still have scars?” I ask timidly. “From the beatings?”

  He cuts his eyes over to me. “On my back, yeah. But they’re fading. They’re not as bad as they used to be.”

  “Can I see?” I ask.

  He shrugs and sits up, then grabs his expensive polo shirt by the collar and tugs it up over his head. “I’m not sure you can see them in the dark,” he says as he turns and angles his body so his back is facing me.

  I sit up beside him and lean in closer to get a better look. My heart breaks as I see the unmistakable lash-like scars across his back in the moonlight. Our foster father had a special leather belt that I swore hurt worse that a whip ever could. One night the beating was so bad, it took most of the skin off Raine’s back. The belt got so drenched in blood it was useless after that. The only good to come out of that horrible night was the destruction of that God-awful belt.

  “I remember when you got these,” I said. “I’d snuck into the fridge and had eaten some bread, and he noticed it was missing. He struck me across the face and you yelled at him to stop, then cursed him out. I thought he was going to kill you, I really did.” I trace a fingertip over the damaged skin on his back, relieved those dark days are over. But reliving them makes me sad somehow. For the childhood we both lost.

  “Hey, it’s okay.” He leans over and wipes my cheek, and it’s only then I realize that I’m crying.

  I try to stop because I’m embarrassed of how childish I’m behaving, but the more I try to hold back my tears, the more they come.

  Raine reaches out and holds me, and I wrap my arms around his strong, scarred back. I bury my head in his neck and cry while he rubs my shoulders and just holds me like that.

  When I start to regain my composure, I pull away and look up at him. He leans down and kisses the tears on my cheek. Kisses the tears at the corners of my eyes. Kisses the tears on my lips.

  I twine my arms around his neck and meet his lips, reveling in the comfort and the strength of him. We were just children when we first met, but now, as I savor the way his body presses against me, the way his lips move over mine, gentle but insistent, I know we aren’t children anymore.

  Tonight there’s no denying that Raine is a man now. The strength and power in his body are proof of that, the evidence of his desire pressing against my side as we kiss is proof of that. And for the first time in my life, I no longer feel like a girl. I feel like I was born to be this man’s woman.

  Raine

  Now…

  “Suck,” I command as she unzips my pants and frees me from their confines. She holds me in her hand for a moment, staring at me as if surprised by all I have to offer, before she takes me in her mouth.

  I tip my head back against the chair and close my eyes, savoring the warm ministrations of her mouth on my throbbing, hungry cock.

  Occasionally I offer her direction: Suck harder. Grip the base. Cup my balls. Tongue the tip. That’s a good girl.

  But as delightful as her mouth feels on me, I’m unable to come.

  And I know why. Because ever since I saw her beautiful pussy, I won’t be satisfied with anything less than being buried to the hilt inside her. But first I want to taste her. Feel her against my lips and tongue, and taste her release.

  But it’s not just the sensation of her pussy that I want. It’s knowing that I’m bringing her pleasure that will truly get me off. Her utter helplessness against the primal needs and automatic responses of her own body. And I’ll be the one setting them off.

  I smooth my hand over her hair, admiring its silky texture. “You may release me now. I’m going to take you into the bedroom.”

  My cock emerges from her mouth and she looks up at me with confusion in her sapphire eyes.

  “You’re doing a good job, baby. I just can’t come. I’m in my head too much. I’d like to focus on you for a while, shall we do that?”

  She nods in assent, but there’s a war between anxiety and desire in her eyes. She’s always been ridiculously easy to read like that. Her eyes are so damn expressive.

  Looking into them now, I feel something come to life that I thought was long dead. It has nothing to do with sex, though I wish it did. It’s the yearning to protect this woman, to give her all that I am. To bring her happiness each day of her life. To bring a smile to those beautiful eyes.

>   And I despise myself for feeling this way.

  She was the one who destroyed me all those years ago. Those days, I would have done anything for her. Traveled to the ends of the earth just to bring her some small measure of joy. She was the one thing I had ever loved. And yet when I tried to give her that love, she threw it back in my face as if it meant nothing at all.

  If anything, I should want revenge for what she did to me. For shattering me all those years ago.

  For what it caused me to become.

  Having her appear at my door tonight was a gift. And yet all I can think about is driving her mad with pleasure. Of making her come again and again, then soothing her gently while she comes down in my arms.

  No, this won’t do. This won’t do at all.

  Lana

  Now…

  Raine stands up and fastens his pants, then holds out his hand to me. I take it and without thinking, I twine my fingers through his tightly, then follow him as he leads me to the bedroom.

  By now I know he’s putting up a false front. He knows exactly who I am, though I’m not sure why he hasn’t acknowledged me yet. I haven’t changed beyond recognition in the past ten years, and what Raine and I had…it wasn’t the kind of thing one simply forgets. Lord knew I’d been unable to. For so many reasons.

  He leads me to the bedroom and I stand before him naked, awaiting his next directive. I’ll go along with this charade for now in order to see what his intentions are.

  I patiently wait for him to tell me what to do, but he just stands there looking in my eyes, then his gaze travels down my naked body. The entire time, his expression is unreadable.

  Then he puts a hand on either side of my face, leans in and presses his lips to mine.

  A simple kiss is the last thing I expected from him, and the jolt of his lips against mine flows like an electric current through my body. Or perhaps not electric so much as magnetic. It’s an escapable pull that draws me to him. Real and raw, rendering me powerless against it.

  I kiss him back with passion, running my palms up his biceps and letting them settle on his powerful shoulders.

  One of his hands moves to cup the back of my neck. I lean in and press my breasts against him, eager for more contact. I only wish he was naked too so I could feel him skin to skin.

  “Easy baby, we have all night,” he murmurs against my lips.

  But I can’t wait. There’s too much fabric between us. I reach up and begin to unbutton his white dress shirt.

  I have no idea how he’ll react to my forwardness. Whether he’ll punish me again for not following his commands. But it’s worth the risk to feel his skin against mine. It’s something I’ve fantasized about for the last ten years, and having him so close, I can’t wait any longer.

  He does nothing to still my hands, only nips my bottom lip as I fumble to open the buttons. Halfway through my efforts, he reaches down and quickly unfastens the rest. Then without breaking the kiss, I reach up and pull his shirt down his powerful arms.

  His shirt falls to the floor, and I grip his biceps, which feel both familiar yet strange. The last time I saw Raine he had the lanky body of a teenager. Now he’s all man. My fingers play over the muscles of his shoulders and arms, then his perfectly defined pecks. Then they travel down across the ridges of his abs, then lower, to the large column beneath this fly.

  I know I’m being forward, and I half expect him to grab my hand and administer another punishment. But once again Raine surprises me. His hands still cradle my face, and then he sighs against my mouth, kissing me deeper.

  I smooth my palm over the massive erection I’d been working over with my mouth just moments before, hungry to feel it again. Truth be told, as a date for hire—a nice way of putting what I do for a living—I’ve only been able to survive by shutting a part of myself down completely before an encounter. Going to some distant part of my mind and turning my feelings off. Becoming someone else.

  But for the first time in years—ten years, if I’m being honest—everything inside me is on. Fumbling to get his pants down, I realize I want this even more than he does.

  I feel him smile against my lips. Just a hint of a smile, but once again, it’s a gentler reaction than I expected. Then he helps me remove his pants and boxer briefs, and we’re both naked. At last he pulls out of our kiss and lowers me to the bed.

  He prowls over me, a softness in his eyes I hadn’t seen since coming here, and brushes a strand of hair from my face. I spread my legs in invitation, but he leans down and whispers in my ear, “Not yet. Let me taste you first.”

  He moves down my body, and suddenly I’m awash in warm waves of pleasure as his tongue strokes up and down the seam of my sex. His fingers part my folds, and his tongue dances over my opening and my clit. I reach down and caress his dark hair, and he puts his hand under both my knees and guides my legs upward.

  When my outstretched legs form a V in the air, he plants his hands under my ass cheeks and lifts me off the bed. The position gives him greater access to my opening, which he’s now plundering with his tongue. He’s not just tasting me though. He’s fucking me with his tongue.

  His tongue plunges in and out, stroking the entrance to my channel, while his lips create the most delightful sensations on my outer folds.

  Fuck, he’s good.

  I haven’t been worked like this since…well, since him.

  Soon his tongue begins a new dance, stroking up and down my seam, pausing from time to time to delve inside me or circle my clit.

  I cry out with abandon as he holds my ass in his hands and feasts on me. It’s when his thumbs come up and part my folds, spreading me completely for him, that I break apart.

  As his tongue plunges into me, the orgasm blasts up my spine and a loud cry tears from my throat. Waves of bliss wash over me again and again, so exquisite it hurts.

  His mouth is in synch with my release, plunging and dipping and coaxing my orgasm higher.

  And when it finally recedes, he’s prowling over me. “Please,” is all I can manage, though I’m not even sure what I’m begging him for.

  His lips meet mine, and I taste my own nectar on his kiss, fueling my desire higher.

  And then in one deep thrust of his hips, I’m filled with him. His enormous girth stretches me wide. And as he begins a slow push-pull rhythm, I luxuriate in the way his cock caresses me. The thick ridge of his tip glides up and down my channel in a delectable massage.

  He flexes his hips again and again, taking my hands in his and twining his fingers through mine. Then he raises my hands firmly over my head and pins me in place. His powerful chest brushes against the tight buds of my nipples with each stroke, and when I look up at him, his beautiful brown eyes are boring into mine.

  We don’t break eye contact as his thrusts deepen. Soon he’s pounding into me, and the only sound is our mingled breaths.

  Again and again he curls his body into mine. It’s as if every surge of his hips is reclaiming some lost part of me, making me his.

  A low growl forms in his throat, and he delivers one last brutal stroke before flooding me with heat.

  The feel of his seed washing through me is all it takes for me to explode again. As his hot liquid pumps through me in powerful jets, my body shatters into a million pieces. I cry out at the ceiling, bucking beneath him, while his hands pin me tight against the mattress.

  Then the pleasure recedes once again, leaving us panting in each other’s arms.

  He leans down and rests his forehead against mine, our gazes locked once again. “Lovely Lana,” he whispers as he places his hand on my face and strokes my cheek with his thumb.

  “Raine,” I whisper back, and press my lips to his.

  Lana

  Then…

  Summer vacation. And with it comes long days lying next to the pool at Raine’s mansion. He wasn’t exaggerating about his foster parents never being home. Summer vacation’s been in swing for almost a month and I have yet to see them. Apparently his adoptive
mother, Missy Everly, spends most of her time in Aspen and Miami, and his adoptive father, Rupert Everly, is constantly traveling all over the world on business.

  Rupert’s company is Raine’s only reason for being here. It’s what gave him access to this amazing life. Apparently Rupert Everly needed an heir to take over for him someday, but he couldn’t have children of his own. Raine wasn’t sure why, only that it had something to do with a horse riding accident when he was younger.

  Regardless, it’s clear that he and his wife didn’t take Raine in because they wanted a child to nurture and love. Raine is there to play the role of family successor. To keep his father’s legacy alive after he’s gone. That’s Raine’s one and only purpose for being here.

  But I don’t feel sorry for Raine. Just the opposite. He gets to live in an enormous eleven-bedroom mansion on the most exclusive part of the Maine coast with access to a private beach and a pool. Not to mention a housekeeper and a cook to cater to his every whim—and his own chauffer to take him anywhere he wants to go.

  And all this without having to deal with foster parents. If only I could be so lucky.

  I wasn’t sure how my foster family would react to my going over a boy’s house every day, and I didn’t want to risk them getting into my business. So I told them I joined the track team at school and had to spend all summer practicing in order to get my running time down.

  Then every day, I dress up in running gear and jog around the corner, where Raine waits for me on his motorcycle with that killer smile.

  In other words, it’s turning out to be the most amazing summer of my life.

  As we lay by the pool taking in the sun and reading the trashy magazines I brought over, I hear the housekeeper approaching from behind us.