by S. E. Law
I blow out a stream of air.
“No, and no,” I answer. “Remember how I told you my mom has a new fiancé? Well, I met him yesterday.”
“Oh my god,” Jenny drawls. “That guy is your mom’s new fiancé.”
“No!” I shriek. “Eeew! He’s way too young for Gertrude!”
“Just saying,” Jenny giggles on the other side. “You know, there is such a thing as a cougar. Your mom could be a good cougar.”
“No no no!” I almost scream again. “Hunter isn’t my mom’s fiancé. He’s my mom’s fiancé’s son.”
There’s a long moment of silence on the end.
“No. Way. Are you shitting me? That’s almost as bad.”
I sigh.
“I know,” I say glumly. “He’s going to be my new stepbrother.”
“Holy shit,” she says, disbelieving. “That’s just… wow. I could not have called that in a million years.”
“Me neither,” I say, chewing my fingernail as I watch a squirrel bound across the backyard. It scurries up a tree and disappears into the branches. “And they’re both coming over again this afternoon. My mom wanted me and Hunter to get to know each other better before the wedding.”
“Well,” Jenny says coyly, “I doubt you two can get to know each other better than you already have,” she titters.
“Jenny, please,” I moan. “This is serious.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she says. “So what are you going to do about it?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “That’s why I called you. I couldn’t just sit here without doing anything. Not without telling anyone.”
“Okay,” Jenny says, her tone businesslike. “All right. I get that this is a wild situation, and I’m sorry - it’s kind of my fault that you’re in this mess. But my advice would be to just keep going like everything is normal.”
I raise my eyebrows.
“How am I supposed to do that?”
“Look, you guys are meeting up to get to know each other, right?” she asks. “So I say you do exactly that. Talk to him. Learn more about him. It will probably be awkward, but at least maybe you can get past the elephant in the room, you know?”
I scratch my forehead, mulling it over.
“I guess you’re right. But still, I don’t know how I’m even supposed to pretend to be normal around him. He-” I lower my voice. “He took my virginity, for god’s sake.”
“I know,” Jenny says cheerfully, “and it will be weird at first. But who knows? You might have more in common with him than you think. Just give it a shot, okay? See what happens. Worst case, summer’s over in a couple months, and you can get far away from him when you go back to school.”
I sigh. I have to admit she has a point.
“Okay,” I tell her. “I’ll try. Thank you, Jenny.”
“Let me know how it goes,” she says merrily, and hangs up.
I spend the rest of the morning fretting - about what to wear, what I’m going to say to Hunter, and how I’m going to pretend everything is normal. By the time there’s the sound of a car pulling up outside, my heart does a flip-flop. I’m sitting in the kitchen, my hands in my lap, when my mom goes to answer the door, making nice with the others before inviting them inside.
“Frankie, honey,” she says, poking her head into the kitchen room, “George and Hunter are here. Come say hi.”
I force a smile onto my face and stand up, greeting the two of them politely in the foyer. Hunter is just as tall and handsome as ever. His black head practically grazes the ceiling, and his shoulders are so broad they seem to take up all the space inside.
“It’s good to see you both again,” I manage, my eyes lingering on his huge frame for perhaps a moment too long.
“It’s good to see you, too, Frankie,” Hunter says, a gleam in his blue eyes.
“Well,” Mom says, clapping her hands together, “there’s wine and cheese. George, honey, would you care to join me?”
“I sure would,” George replies, taking her hand. He gives Hunter a questioning look.
“I think I’ll stay out here for a little bit and talk to Frankie,” Hunter says, giving his dad a winning smile. We watch in silence as our parents disappear around the corner into the living room, already laughing and talking like there’s nothing amiss. Then the two of us make our way to the kitchen and sit in silence for what feels like forever. I’m staring at the table, fidgeting, doing anything to not have to look at Hunter, but the whole time, I can feel his eyes on me.
“So,” he says at last, his voice low enough that the others won’t hear him, “did you miss me as much as I missed you?”
I snap my head up to look at him, eyes wide.
“What are you talking about?”
“Come on, Frankie,” he says, smirking. “Are we just going to pretend nothing happened between us? How long are we going to keep acting like strangers?”
“We are strangers,” I hiss back, shooting a worried glance towards the living room. The low hum of voices trickle in; Mom is laughing at something George said. “What are we going to do? I had sex with you, Hunter!”
“I know,” he says, raising an eyebrow. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”
“Me neither,” I confess, blushing a little. Jenny’s advice comes back to me then, and I sit up straighter in my chair. “Look,” I say, “I don’t know how we’re going to deal with all this, but if we’re going to be step-siblings, then maybe we should get to know each other better. What do you say?”
Hunter nods, looking thoughtful.
“That sounds good to me. So tell me something else about yourself, then. You said you were a history major back at the party, right?”
“Yes,” I say, taken aback. “I’m surprised you remembered.”
“Of course I did,” Hunter replies with that smug grin again. “You’re special, Frankie. I’d be an idiot to forget what we talked about that night… or what we did.” He winks, and it’s enough to nearly make me come undone at the seams. Shit. I’m in deep.
“I feel the same way,” I reply, my voice barely above a whisper. “But Hunter, we can’t.”
“Why not?” he asks, shifting so he’s closer to me. Within touching distance, or kissing distance to be more precise. “I want you, Frankie, and I’m not afraid to admit it. And if I’m not mistaken, you want me too.” He raises his hand to touch my cheek, his icy blue eyes holding mine. The feeling of his hand on my skin sends sparks all throughout my body, and between his touch and my adrenaline, I feel like I’m about to explode. “What’s stopping you, sweetheart?”
I inhale deeply, looking into those cobalt eyes.
“Well first, our parents are one room away,” I breathe, but I can’t seem to pull my eyes away from his. “If they come in here, then it’s over.”
“Mm.” There’s a lusty rumble in his chest. “I’ll risk it,” he murmurs, and suddenly, Hunter’s kissing me at the kitchen table.
I know I should pull away. I know I should run. Mom could walk in at any minute and see me kissing my future ste brother, his tongue snaking into my mouth as he pulls me flush against him. But I can’t. My fingers are coming up to wind in his hair, a low moan emerging from me as I feel his hands exploring my curves again. It feels wrong, but it also feels right, and in spite of my confusion, I find myself getting lost in the feeling of him.
I can feel moisture building up between my legs, and before I know what’s happening, Hunter is reaching his hand between us the way he did outside the restaurant, and pulling down the zipper of my jeans. I gasp when I feel his other hand moving under the hem of my shirt, under my bra, to cup my breast. His fingers are cool and deft against my skin, and I hiss in a breath through my nose when his thumb grazes my nipple.
“Fuck,” Hunter murmurs against my lips, and pulls away. His eyes have gone dark with desire. “Frankie,” he says urgently, “I have to fuck you.”
I don’t even hesitate.
“Yes,” I breathe,
and then I’m pulling his face back to mine as he starts fumbling with my jeans again, this time with a renewed vigor. The idea of our parents walking in on us hasn’t completely left my mind, but I can feel myself pushing it away, too caught up in my desperate desire for Hunter. I want - no, need - to feel him inside me, to feel the sensations he made me feel at the party, and every second, the intensity grows stronger.
Hunter’s hand leaves my breast as he tugs my jeans down, bunching them up around my thighs before pulling down my panties. Then his fingers are traveling over my pussy again, already slick with juices as he slides first one, and then two digits inside me. I stifle a moan, glancing towards the kitchen door, as new waves of pleasure begin to course through me.
“So wet already,” Hunter says, his voice low and husky in my ear as he presses his lips to my neck.
“Please,” I say, practically begging now, “Hunter, I need you.”
The sound of my plea seems to send him into even more of a frenzy, as I feel him grip me even tighter, his teeth biting down on my neck hard enough to leave a mark. I don’t care. He could leave twenty marks of his possession on me, and I would be happy because it feels right. I belong to this man, and I’m his.
Suddenly, Hunter’s hands are on my waist, and before I know what’s happening, he’s spinning me around so that I’m facing the table. Putting his palm on my back, he pushes me gently down, bending me over the table before shoving the chairs out of the way. I can hear him unzipping his jeans, his breaths ragged, and then, suddenly, his hard cock is pushing against me. I gasp at the feeling of him at my entrance, spreading my legs apart to accommodate him, and with one long stroke, he pushes easily inside of me.
“Ohhhh,” I moan gutturally. “Oh god.”
For a moment he doesn’t move, letting me adjust to the feeling of him stretching me. I’m still getting used to that sensation, but soon the initial discomfort begins to wear off, replaced by a desperate need for friction. Hunter thrusts forward once, experimentally, keeping a hand on my lower back as he gauges my response. Then he begins to move more consistently, picking up speed as he finds a rhythm. I can hear my mom and George talking in the other room, completely oblivious to the fact that their children are doing the dirty in the kitchen.
“Fuck,” Hunter murmurs. “You feel so good, Frankie.”
“You do, too,” I manage, my breath catching in my throat as he hits me at just the right angle, enough to make my head spin with pleasure. My words dissolve into a moan, and I bite down on my arm to keep from drawing the others’ attention. Time stretches on, the only sounds the rhythmic slapping of Hunter’s pelvis against mine and the muffled conversation from the other room. Soon I can feel my climax building, that same unbelievable rush he made me feel at the party coming back like a tidal wave. And then it’s crashing down on me, making my whole body shake with its intensity. It’s all I can do not to cry out Hunter’s name as he continues to claim my curves, trembling from the pleasure of it. My curves clamp and contract on his hardness, squeezing him for more.
It doesn’t take Hunter long to come as I squirm and moan underneath him. There’s the hot gush of fluid in my hot tunnel as he finishes inside me, continuing at a slower pace as he rides out the aftershocks. He’s still breathing hard, and I feel him reach down and caress my ass, savoring the feeling of our connected bodies as we recover together, hardly believing where we are or how this happened.
I’m so distracted by the feeling of the climax that I don’t realize it’s gone silent in the living room until it’s too late.
“Hunter-” I begin, but then I look to my right, and my heart stops.
Standing in the kitchen doorway are Gertrude and George, their wine glasses in their hands, staring at us with wide eyes. Hunter is still inside me, his hips stuttering as he looks up at them, and for a moment, none of us speak. Then all hell breaks loose.
8
Hunter
I guess it’s my fault for not hearing Dad and Frankie’s mom get up from the sofa and make their way back to the kitchen. I was so wrapped up in what was happening with Frankie that I stopped paying attention to anything else, lost in the feeling of being inside her again after all these hours of ruminating. And god, was it good. She was so hot, wet, and tight, just like I remembered. But then the curvy girl gasps, turning to look towards the door, and when I follow her gaze with my own, my heart sinks.
Oh shit. Our parents are standing in the doorway, staring at us. My jeans are unbuttoned, and Frankie’s are all the way down around her thighs. I’m still buried inside her, my hand on her gorgeous ass, and it’s clear that there’s not going to be any explaining this away.
“Hey, guys,” I say, when the silence in the room has become unbearable. “Dad,” I say, nodding first to him and then to Gertie. “Gertie.”
They look like they’ve lost the ability to speak. Gertie’s mouth is hanging open, and Dad has gone bright red, averting his eyes so he doesn’t have to look at what’s happening. Finally he speaks, his voice quiet and monotone.
“Hunter,” he asks, “what are you doing?”
Gertie turns to look at him, her eyes wide.
“Is that all you have to say?” She looks from him to me to her daughter, disbelieving. “What the hell is going on? Why are you…” She swallows, seeming almost embarrassed to say it. “Why are you two doing this in my kitchen? Don’t you know that you’re going to be related soon?”
“Mom,” Frankie begins, still bent over the kitchen table, “I can explain-”
“What the hell do you mean, you can explain, young lady?” Gertie cries. “Explain what? What are you…? Why are you…?”
“Gertie,” I begin, but she rounds on me.
“Don’t call me that,” she snaps.
Realizing this is escalating, I pull out of Frankie, tucking myself back into my pants and zipping them up. Beet red and moving like she’s in a trance, Frankie straightens up and pulls her jeans back up, not meeting her mother’s eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she says quietly. “This is… Well, I mean, it’s not… It’s not what it looks like.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s exactly what it looks like,” Gertie snaps back. “It looks like you were fucking your future stepbrother!”
“Gertie, please,” Dad says, putting a hand on her arm, his expression pained. “Language.”
She shakes him off, taking a few steps closer to us and pointing at me.
“We leave you two alone for five minutes and this is what happens? How long has this been going on?”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Fordham,” I say, holding up my hands, “but that’s none of your business.”
“Like hell it isn’t! Is that why you were being so weird at dinner, Frankie? What the hell are you two doing?”
“Hang on,” I say, keeping my voice level and cool. “You’re overreacting.”
“This isn’t overreacting, son,” Dad chimes in, looking at me. “Do you have any idea how crazy this is?”
“Yes,” I reply calmly, “and I’m sorry that you guys had to see that. But you’re blowing this way out of proportion.”
“You’re my daughter, Frankie!” cries Gertie. “You’re an innocent! And now you’re taking up with your stepbrother?” She’s gone pale in the face.
“Mom,” says Frankie sounding both ashamed and terrified, “I’m sorry. But can you please just calm down for a second?”
“No, I won’t!” Gertie snaps. “Not about this!” she glares at us, looking from one to the other. “I don’t want you two seeing each other again.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, “but that’s not going to happen. I’m thirty years old, and Frankie’s twenty. We’re both adults, and what we do with each other is our business.”
Frankie looks at me, and I can see tears in her eyes. Fuck. This wasn’t supposed to happen like this.
“Hunter, stop,” she says. “Let’s just…”
“I can’t believe this,” storms Gertie, running a hand through her
platinum hair. She turns to Dad.
“George, say something, for god’s sake!”
“What do you want me to say?” Dad demands, throwing up his hands. “What can I say? Obviously this isn’t the first time they’ve done this!”
“No, and that’s the problem!” Gertrude rounds on Frankie. “Was it that party you went to the other night? The one with Jenny? I knew that girl was a bad influence.” Before either of us can reply, she’s already starting in on Dad again. “What the hell do you teach him, anyway? Your son has no morals!”
“Excuse me?!” Now my dad’s voice is rising. “You think I taught him to do this?”
“You’re his father! You should be setting an example!”
They continue to argue. I turn to look at Frankie, who’s started to shake again. Her face is bright red, and as she looks from me to our parents, I can see the panic building on her face. She glances at me one more time, looking like she wants to say something, but then turns and runs out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
I watch her go, wondering if I should follow her, but then shake my head. What a mess. Not wanting to stick around for whatever blowup is coming, I push past Dad and Gertie and head for the front door, bursting out of the house and onto the street. I don’t have keys to my dad’s car, but that doesn’t matter. I don’t really care where I go, as long as it’s away from here.
9
Frankie
I reach for my phone, which is vibrating on my nightstand. It’s Jenny calling, of course. Part of me doesn’t want to talk to her – I don’t want to talk to anyone right now - but I’ve been ignoring her calls all day and I know if I don’t deal with this soon, she’s going to send out a search party. I gave her the most basic details that I could about the ill-fated wine and cheese date, which, at the end of the day, was all I could bring myself to talk about. Thinking back to that moment in the kitchen when our parents walked in makes me feel sick to my stomach.
