And I was happy to swap stories right back at him, about my work, my friends back home, and what it had been like to study up in the city. I was just telling him about a recent excursion with my friend Katie when he interrupted, mischievously grinning as he took another long draft of wine.
“So, any of your friends single?”
“No, but I am,” I blurted before I had a chance to consider what I was saying. Jesus, had I really just come out and said that?
He raised his eyebrows at me. “Really? I assumed you had some boyfriend sequestered away in the city.”
“Nah, nothing like that.” I sighed. “Nothing like that since college, actually.”
“What, you haven’t gotten laid since college?” he asked in disbelief, and I slapped him gently on the arm.
“No, I didn’t mean sex, you idiot. I mean dating. The whole romance game, you know?” I explained myself.
“Ah, yes - the great mystery of dating. I’ve been struggling to find someone myself, these days. It used to be so easy back in college but now - “he pulled a face. “No such luck.”
“Well, you can keep away from my friends. I want someone who’s going to treat them right, not take off two weeks before college starts so he can see Europe and waste all the money he’d had saved up.” I joshed him playfully.
“Hey, I stand by that decision. And who’s to say that I wouldn’t treat your friends well?” He admonished.
“Sorry if I don’t see you as some great romancer,” I teased, reaching over and draining the bottle into my glass. “Why, have I got you wrong there?”
“Zoe, I’m the kind of guy who thinks going to Europe for a spontaneous vacation is good idea. Of course I’m romantic.” He dismissed me. “Why, what more proof do you need?”
I looked up from the bottle to respond, and found myself disarmed by the look on his face. He was tucked up on the opposite end of the couch from me, his legs crossed beneath him, and there was a look in his eyes that I’d never seen before. I didn’t quite know what I’d have called it - maybe lust, annoyance, confusion, or some combination of the above. Whatever it was, I didn’t know what to make of it. Until he reached across and placed a hand on me knee.
I took a deep breath, then swallowed, allowing my body to adjust to the sensation of his hand on my bare skin. I could feel the wine swirling around my brain, and I wasn’t convinced that this was a good idea - but fuck it. It wasn’t like we were hurting anyone, and it wasn’t like we were actually related. I didn’t even see him as my brother, and all I knew now was that the feeling of his skin on mine felt right. We sat there for a moment, our breath coming in unison as we tried to figure out what to do next. Then he kissed me.
He closed the space between us, bringing his lips to mine in a simple, chaste peck. He pulled back and looked at me, and it was clear that we were both taking stock of the situation inside our heads. But my brain, for once, didn’t want to overanalyse this or overthink it, but rather just give in to the pleasurable sensations pulsing across my skin. So I leant back in, and kissed him. Really kissed him.
My tongue parted his lips in a moment, and within a second we were kissing passionately, our tongues wet and heavy against each other. My body relaxed as he moved in closer, wrapping his arms around my waist - it had been so long since I had been with a man like this, and it felt like something between a relief and a whole new batch of nerves. Even if we took the situation between Mitch and me out of the equation, I hadn’t had sex in what - five, six months? The pressure of the situation added to my internal nervousness had me breathing a sigh of relief when he pushed me down on to the couch, his body on top of mine. Good. If he took control, then I could just lay back and go with the flow.
I pushed my worries to the back of my head and lost myself in his kiss; the scratchiness of the stubble on his jaw, the softness of his plump lips, and the silky ends of his freshly-cut hair as I ran my fingers through it. It wasn’t exactly how I’d imagined the night going, but his body felt so strong and so good pressed up against my own that I was hardly in any position to complain.
I don’t know how long we lay like that, our bodies entwined as we explored each other. It was as if we’d connected on a whole different level today, getting to know parts of each other that we hadn’t paid any attention to previously. But it was a long time; enough time for the rain outside to peter out into a light drizzle, enough time that I forgot about my wine, my surroundings, anything but how my stepbrother’s arms felt around me. His hand moved up slowly to cup my breasts, massaging it firmly through the thin fabric of my dress. My body reacted, his touch sending shockwaves of pleasure across every inch of my body. There was an adolescent uncertainty between us, as both of us tried to figure out how far we wanted to go. In a moment of courage, I slid my hand down to his ass and squeezed, hard, through his pants. He was just as toned as I’d always imagined, but still, the realness of feeling him underneath my fingers was intensely strange and intensely good at the same time.
And then I felt his hand creeping up my bare thigh, his fingers skimming my sensitive skin. He pulled back, his lips puffy from making out, as he hooked his fingers around my panties, preparing to move them aside. “Is this okay?” His voice was gentle and soft, but there was urgency to it that I wanted to indulge.
I nodded, allowing him to pull aside my underwear and graze my sensitive flesh with his fingers. I gasped, my back arching up so that I could meet his hand, and he slowly slid a digit inside me. The feeling was explosive - to be penetrated by this gorgeous man on top of me, to have him drape my neck in kisses as his fingers pushed further and further into me. By the time his thumb reached up to stroke my clit, my whole body was aching with desire, and I had begun to rock my hips gently against him, trying to build up some kind of pace. But he continued slowly, making me moan softly into his ear as my entire body begged for some kind of release. He just felt too good, the pressure between my legs becoming too great, as pressed a kiss on his neck to try and encourage him to move a little faster.
The feeling of his thumb making gentle, languid circles against my clit was all I needed, and I let out a cry, muffled by his shoulder, as a sweet, satisfying orgasm broke across my body. It was the kind that came after a lot of waiting, the kind that felt earned, and I felt my legs tremble underneath him before I flopped back on to the sofa, spent. Fuck. Had we really just done that?
He brought his fingers to my lips, gently brushing them until my tongue darted out to suck the taste of me off him. It was so…intense, unlike anything I’d experienced before, the kind of connection that I was certain only really happened in movies. But here we were, a couple of grown adults who had just got to second base, apparently keen to ignore the fact that we would never have been here at all if our parents hadn’t been married.
As the thought crossed my mind, I knew I needed some time to go over things in my head before we went any further. Gently extracting his fingers from my mouth, I pushed myself up so I was back in an upright position again.
“Mitch, I-“
“Look, it’s fine if that’s all you want to do tonight. I get it. We’re both pretty tipsy, and the last thing I want is to make things awkward at our parent’s anniversary.” He pulled a face. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought up the fact that our parents are married, should I?”
“Nope,” I replied, sitting myself up fully, my body still feeling a little shaky from the orgasm. “I’m sorry, I just need some time to think before anything goes…any further. You get it, right?”
“No need to apologise,” he smiled, bringing my hand to his mouth and brushing his lips over my knuckles. “It’s not my ideal seducing scenario, I’ll admit.”
“Oh? And what is?” I asked, feeling playful and flirty, the way I did after a really good first date.
He stretched himself back on the couch, and I couldn’t help but admire the strength of his arms through his pale shirt. “Hmm, I don’t know. It wouldn’t be on my parent’s couch, for one th
ing. And there’d be a lot more candles, and everything would be soft focus.”
“How would you manage that?” I asked
“I’d find a way,” he replied, and there was that look on his face again, except it was softer now, gentler. As if he wanted to scoop me up and carry me through to bed. I wondered if maybe I could restrain myself to just give him one more kiss before I went to bed, just one more soft little smooch…I found myself leaning towards him without realizing it, and quickly straightened my frame and stood up.
“We should get to bed. Big day tomorrow!” I murmured, trying to keep my voice down. The last thing I wanted was Eva wandering through to see me with a post-orgasmic flush on my cheeks.
“You’re right.” He nodded. “See you then?”
“See you then.”
I walked through to my bedroom, which doubled up as Eva’s office, and lay down on my small childhood bed. What the hell had that just been? I’d arrived at the house today, expecting to find the same small-town drifter I always did, and instead got a tall, dark, sexy charmer who made me laugh my ass off all night long. As well as making you come, of course, my subconscious reminded me. Shit, that too. Everything would have been perfect, had he not been my fucking stepbrother. As soon as I had changed into my pyjamas, I hurriedly scrambled into bed and let out a sigh. Placing my head on the pillow, I pushed those thoughts to the back of my head, and allowed myself to drift off to sleep.
Chapter Four
When I woke up the next day, my head was slightly blurry with my hangover, but my main source of worry came from the memory of what Mitch and I had done last night. Jesus. My body filled with a mixture of horror and arousal as I remembered the way his fingers felt inside me, the way his body moved gently against my own. Arousal, because it had been one of the best orgasms I’d had in years and my body wasn’t going to let me forget it soon, and horror, because it was my fucking stepbrother who’d given it to me. I wondered if he was lying across the hall, thinking the same thing. Some part of me just wanted to forget the whole thing, to pretend it had never happened, because that would be a whole lot less complicated than facing up to my stepmother’s son and telling him that actually, I kinda liked him, and did he like me to? Not to mention what would happen if we told our parents about it- I’m sure Eva would have a field day. She’d probably do some kind of study just on us.
I swung my legs out of bed, adjusting my old high school pyjama top so that it didn’t show any cleavage. The last thing I wanted was for Mitch to be ogling me over breakfast. Though I prayed he’d be a little more discreet than that.
I walked through to the kitchen, plastering a big grin on my face, and managed a chirpy “good morning!” Eva looked up from her paper, and shot me a big grin.
“How are you doing today, Zoe? Not too hungover?”
“No, not too bad. Why, how’s Mitch?” I noticed he wasn’t at the table. Was he avoiding me? I wouldn’t have blamed him.
“No, he’s off meeting some of his cousins from the train station. He’s been up since early, very restless. Must be the party.” She shrugged, and turned back to her paper. My dad poured me out a cup of coffee and handed it to me.
“You’re the last one up, Zoe, lazybones. But that’s okay, I could probably use some big strong muscles like yours to put up the gazebo?” He offered. I knew that he and Eva liked to keep busy whenever they threw big family gatherings, as it was a way to avoid the stress of actually spending time with their relatives, whether they would admit it or not.
I took my coffee, and shook my head. “Sorry, Dad. You’ll have to try Mitch and the cousins for that one. I’m firmly on buffet duty with Eva.” I place a hand on her arm and grinned at her. “Even though you should clearly be getting catering in.”
“Catering my backside,” she replied curtly, “If I can do it myself, I’m not going to pay someone else good money to do it for me.”
I held my hands up. “Can’t argue with that logic.”
“So, Mitch and I on the gazebo, you two on food, and the four of us trying to hold everything together. Sound good?” My dad held his thumbs up at us, looking for some encouragement.
“Sounds good,” I nodded back, secretly relieved that I wouldn’t be spending the day outside with Mitch and my dad.
And it turned out that hiding out in the kitchen with Eva was a lot of fun. I didn’t get much of a chance to cook back home, and I took my time icing cupcakes, rolling pigs in blankets, and trying to keep my hangover at bay. Munching on piles of tiny greasy snacks proved helpful, even if I was worried about fitting into the dinner dress I’d purchased for the occasion - after all, you could never be sure when the man of your dreams would turn up, right? That’s what I’d told myself when I packed it, even though I hadn’t really envisioned the man of my dreams being Mitch at the time.
Slowly, the whole family began to arrive - Eva’s brothers and sisters, my cousins and Aunt Paula, as well as a handful of family friends and neighbours. It was one of the reasons I looked forward to coming home so much - just the buzz of people and smell of home cooking was enough to make me feel relaxed. And I missed socialising with people who weren’t in my brilliant but cliquey advertising social circle, people who didn’t have any of the pretentions of the city. It was kind of a relief to be able to throw off the shackles of my day-to-day working life and just be my old-school self again.
I excused myself from some chat with Mitch’s cousin Mike to go get changed, my heart spinning with anticipation. After all, this wasn’t exactly how I’d seen the night going. I actually had someone to dress up for, no matter if that person was actually sort of my stepbrother. Sliding the floaty halter neck over my body, I looked at myself as the fabric drifting down over my legs, hitting just below the knee. Grabbing a brush from my bag and quickly running it through my hair, I parted my highlighted blonde locks down the middle and arranged them so that they fell artfully down to my breasts. Slicking on a spot of dark plum lipstick, I took a step back and inspected myself in the mirror. Yeah, this was about as far as I was going to get from sitting around in my pyjamas cooking all day.
I hadn’t really spoken to Mitch all afternoon- for whatever reason, he’d always been coming in just as I was going out, even if we did exchange secret little looks in the meantime. I didn’t know want I wanted to say to him, but I knew it was important, and I felt like he had me on his mind too. How could we not be thinking about last night? After ten years spent half-liking each other, we went, over the course of an evening, to fooling around on the sofa. That kind of stuff doesn’t just happen. It needed working out, and there wasn’t anyone I could talk about it with other than Mitch. My friends would assume I was kidding if I called them up, and I obviously couldn’t bring this problem to my immediate family. They’d freak out, and anyway, it would distract attention from the point of the gathering - the celebrate Eva and Dad’s anniversary.
I stepped back out into the hall, catching my Dad’s eye as he came in from the barbecue outside.
“Zoe! You look lovely. Are you having a good time?” He asked as he approached me to give me a peck on the cheek. I could smell a hint of beer on his breath, but I wasn’t going to begrudge him his good time, especially when I knew that Eva (who was a teetotaller) would be watching like a hawk in front of the grill to make sure none of her food got ruined.
“Thanks Dad. And yes, I am, though I could do with something to eat!” I linked my arm through his and allowed him to lead me outside, where there were some twenty people milling around, holding on to paper plates towering with the food I’d helped prepare. My heart leapt into my throat as I saw Mitch - he was wearing smart jeans and a blazer, engaged in some serious conversation with my Dad’s sister. No doubt she was trying to set him up with one of my cousins, as she always did. I approached briskly, hoping to intercept the conversation before Paula became too married to the idea of how cute Mitch and Jas would look together.
“Hey, Paula,” I greeted my aunt, wrapping an arm around he
r waist. “Do you mind if I steal Mitch for a minute?”
“I think he was about to make his toast, dear!” Paula exclaimed, and I glanced up at Mitch who was staring down at me apologetically.
“Yeah, I promised Mom.”
“Cool!” I nodded. I saw Mitch’s eyes travel down my body, taking in my generous cleavage and the hint of leg I was showing off in strappy sandals.
“Maybe I could just wait ten minutes. After all, no-one’s going anywhere soon, and I don’t want to distract anyone from Mom’s food…” Mitch placed an arm around my shoulders, guiding me back inside, back to my room. My heart was pounding. I recognised that lusty look in his eyes from last night, and I had a pretty good idea of where this was going.
Pulling the door shut to give us some privacy, Mitch slid his arms around my waist and pulled me close to him, growling in my ear as he ran his nose along my skin.
ROMANCE: THREESOME : Billionaire Brothers' Party (MFM Menage Romance) (New Adult Contemporary Threesome Short Stories) Page 60
