B right there. Don’t move.
Sighing again, Sophie sent a quick reply to tell him not to bother – it would take her less than five minutes to reach Logan’s. She took a quick breath and shook out her hands, metallic varnish twinkling in the muted light of her dashboard. “You can do this, Soph,” she told herself sternly. “Just a trip around the corner, and you can fall apart.”
Once again swinging her compact car onto the road, she concentrated on just getting there, refusing to tear up again until she seen the outline of Logan leaning against the door frame, outlined by the soft light coming from inside. Gravel thrown up in a spray, she abandoned her car and ran towards him, sobs breaking out as he took her in his arms. “Hush now, Soph. Everything’s gonna be okay.”
She wished she could believe him this time, that things would turn out just fine, but she knew better. “I hate him,” she spat, wrapping her arms around Logan's neck, pulling him so close his breath whooshed out. “I can’t go back there.”
“I know,” he replied softly, hugging her hard, the feel of him enough to calm her. “Come on in. I’ve made up a bed for you.”
Sophie stepped back, releasing her death grip on his neck. “Thanks Logan. You’re the best.”
“What are brothers for?” he replied, motioning to the hallway beyond the front door. “Give me your keys and I’ll lock up.”
“I have a small bag in the rear seat,” she told him, swiping her thumb across her tear-stiffened cheeks with one hand and dropping the keys into his waiting palm with the other.
Tiredness washed over her like a cloud as she tottered unsteadily towards the living room on her small heels. The second she sank into the pillowed depths of Logan’s couch, kicking off her shoes, she felt sleep pull at her. Maybe she’d just rest here a minute before finding out which bedroom he’d made up for her.
~
Logan
Lugging the huge carryall through the front door, Logan wondered what his stepsister would call a big bag – this thing weighed a tonne. He rubbed his tired eyes as he looked up, seeing her reflection in the glass wall to the rear of the house. Her dark blond hair fanned out around her in soft waves as she lay sprawled on his couch in a tangle of limbs.
Feelings of protectiveness welled up in him as he scooped her up, cradling her slight weight in his arms. He would kill the bastard, he decided. Champagne Chimp – as he’d always referred to her boyfriend, Taylor – wouldn’t know what hit him. She snored softly, curling into his chest. How could anyone cheat on Sophie? She was an absolute sweetheart, and a looker too. He smiled as she immediately snuggled into the bed he placed her in. “G’night Soph.”
“Logan?”
“Mmm?” He paused at the threshold of the bedroom door, turning his head to look back at her hazel eyes open in a slit.
“Stay with me a while,” she whispered. She sounded so broken, all he could do was nod.
Tactfully ignoring the fact that her shirt had ridden up high enough to expose her ribs, he toed off his shoes and climbed in beside her, thanking God that he’d chosen a room with a large bed. It was one thing sleeping in the same roomy bed as your stepsister, and another entirely to cuddle up in a single.
“Thank you,” Sophie mumbled, turning into his side and resting her head on his shoulder. Logan groaned quietly as she slid her arm across his stomach, her fingers playing lightly with the hem of his shirt. “I don’t know what I ever did without you.”
Logan remembered the first day he’d met his new sister like it was yesterday. He had just turned eighteen, and had a chip on his shoulder the size of an iceberg. He didn’t know why his dad had chosen to marry so late in life. He didn't like his choice of wife, and hated the fact that he had a new stepsister. He certainly didn’t like that he was supposed to treat her like a real sister, just because his dad said they were family. They weren’t family. They would never be family. He’d hated his dad for that.
Of course, his sick attraction to her didn't help, and the fact that he'd kissed her sweet lips on her seventeenth birthday was an exquisite form of torture by memory, but they'd grown closer after the death of their parents and from then on they’d been inseparable. But Logan realized that no matter how much he loved her, he could never think of her as his sister. He wanted her too damn much. From the time he'd entered her life, she’d driven him half mad with her short skirts and slinky shirts. The woman, had a figure to make a man weep, and try as he might, he could not ignore the attraction he’d felt.
His father had noticed, and commented often enough that Logan had stopped visiting much when they were alive. He regretted that now, of course, but hindsight was twenty-twenty, or so they said.
Watching her sleep, curled up beside him, he once again reminded himself of just how out of bounds this woman was. Don’t go there, pal. She wriggled in her sleep, one slender leg curling around his thigh, and he sighed. She still drove him half mad with short skirts and slinky shirts.
~
Sophie
Sophie drowsed, half dreaming. She cuddled into the chest at her back and pulled the strong arm around her more firmly, clutching his wrist. A soft snore tickled her neck, and she shifted, a tight feeling settling in her stomach. The growing arousal at the curve of her bottom was enough to liquefy her insides and she moved Taylor's hand so it rested high enough on her thigh that his thumb was brushing her panties, and his fingers rested just close enough to her core for her to want him to wake up.
Deliberately, she squirmed, feeling his arousal brush back and forth across her underwear. He groaned, pressing closer, and she smiled. His fingers flexed, squeezing the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh, and she rocked backwards, leaving him in no doubt of her own growing excitement.
Wake up, damn you, she thought, her own eyes still closed. She reached behind her to run her hand up his thigh, and then realized he was wearing jeans. Why would Taylor wear jeans to bed?
Oh, God, she remembered. It wasn’t Taylor pressed tightly to her behind – happily, she might add. His hand moved to the flat of her stomach and she gasped as his fingers dipped into the elastic of her panties. He was obviously still asleep, as his snores still tickled the spot under her ear. Her heart racing, Sophie froze. She needed to get the hell out of this bed, she knew that, but something primal in her wanted to see what Logan would do. So, she ignored the voice screaming in the back of her mind that she should move, right now. Her breath coming in short, choppy pants, she lay there unmoving as his fingers dipped lower into her underwear.
My God, girl you have gone mad, she decided, extricating herself quickly and fleeing to the bathroom. Once inside, she took a deep breath and glared at herself in the mirror. “What the hell?” she asked herself in disbelief. “He’s your brother,” she mouthed silently at her own disheveled reflection. “You’re disgusting.” Brushing off the tiny voice in the darkest corner of her mind which reminded her he wasn’t really her brother, she climbed into the shower. She definitely needed to wash away those thoughts.
~
Thankfully, Logan was not in her bed when she emerged, wrapped in a soft white towel. A sigh of relief escaped her lips as she dug through her bag for something to wear, coming up with a set of practical underwear and some sweats and a tee shirt and pulling them on over her still damp skin. It was a moment of pure madness, she told herself as she dried her hair and dabbed concealer onto the small batch of freckles dotting the bridge of her nose. Feeling more like herself, she wandered into the kitchen in search of breakfast.
Logan was already there, munching on a slice of French toast. “Sleep well?” he asked her with a smile.
“Uhm, yes thank you, I did.” Was that a trick question? Did he know? Had he been locked in the same half awake state that she’d been? God, she hoped not. That would be mortifying beyond telling.
“Good. Breakfast is served,” he told her, flourishing a giant plate of French toast and motioning to the coffee maker with a nod of his head. “I have work to do this morning.
And I’ll probably be out most of the day.” He handed her a clean cup, and she took it wordlessly. “But we can do something fun tonight.”
“Ooh, like what?” she asked, dismissing the earlier events from her mind. It was a sleepy mistake and it would never happen again. No point dwelling on it — she had plenty of other recent mistakes to dwell on, instead.
“How does a trip to the Beer Bunker sound?” He picked up a slim briefcase as he made his way through the giant open plan living area. “There’s a new band playing there tonight that I know you’ll just love.”
“Sounds good,” she replied quietly, her mind turning to her now ex-boyfriend.
“Don’t,” he whispered, appearing before her. He placed a light kiss on her forehead, rubbing her shoulder soothingly. “Don’t think about him.”
“I wasn’t,” she lied.
“Champagne Chimp was never good enough for you, anyway.” He grinned suddenly, and started toward the front hallway again. “And he’ll be good for nothing by the time I’m finished with him.”
“Don’t do anything,” she begged. “Please. I just want to forget him.”
“No promises.” A second later, the front door closed and she was alone.
Chapter Three
Having nothing to do all day sounds like a dream, right? Not so when you’re alternatively thinking about your cheating ex and the femme fatale that he’d done the dirty deed with. For hours, Sophie obsessed, wondering where she’d gone wrong, and what signs she’d missed. True, Taylor had been attending a lot of meetings that went nowhere recently, but that was nothing new. He’d been secretive though, and taking showers every night before climbing into their bed, as well as first thing in the morning, and that definitely was new. He must have been meeting the tramp after work, and then washing the smell of sex off him before she could get a whiff.
“Ugh,” she sighed. A girl could go mad wondering. She decided to take herself to the quiet beach behind the house. Opening the giant glass doors that made up the entire back wall of the building, she reveled in the fresh breeze coming off the ocean. It was shaping up to be a beautiful dry day, and she thought a walk on the beach sounded like just the thing to clear her head.
There were worse ways to spend her vacation time than walking along a sandy beach at her brother’s house. She regretted the fact that she’d spent her entire over-time pay last month on a week in a fancy hotel in the country as a surprise for Taylor's upcoming birthday.. She wondered if she could just rent out her own house for a while and stay here. Never running into either of them again so long as she lived sounded just about right to her. At twenty five, she should have more in her life than a house she couldn't go back to, a room in her brother’s place and a bag of clothing.
Taking the time to pack her clothes away neatly in the closet, she bemoaned the fact that she'd invested in the creep's company. Her mind wandered and she began to think of starting over, starting fresh somewhere new. But where? Definitely somewhere in the city, she decided. Away from everything.
She finished unpacking her clothes and decided to clean the kitchen before spending her day with the scent of the salt-water and the feel of the brisk wind in her hair. She wondered if Logan had any decent books to pass the time with. All she'd seemed to bring with her were design books.
~
Logan
His day seemed to last forever and when he finally got home, all he wanted to do was flop into bed and sleep. He hadn’t gotten much sleep the previous night, partly due to the restless sleeper he’d shared a bed with, and partly due to his own twisted thoughts. Waking up with a raging hard-on and a dream of her soft womanly flesh under his fingertips was not the best way to start the day. He’d gotten out of that bed like it was on fire, thanking his lucky stars that she’d been in the shower instead of in the bed with him and his arousal. He felt like he was the worst sort of pervert.
All day, his mind kept returning to the glimpses of skin he’d seen, the soft sighs he’d heard in her sleep, the way she’d fit perfectly against him. He was driving himself insane with thoughts of her. No mention of the word sister would calm the burning desire in him, because the word step kept infiltrating his reasoning.
It didn’t matter that they weren’t blood related. Family was more than blood, or so his father had drummed into him when he'd first cottoned on to his son's desire for his new sister. If their parents were still alive she wouldn’t even be here to torment him. But the fact was, both of them had died in the crash seven years ago.
Logan would never forget the way the blood had drained from Sophie’s face as she’d crumpled to the floor of the critical care unit, two hours later. He’d lost his father too, but Sophie had needed him, so he’d sucked it up and made her his priority. “Hey, why such a serious face?”
He looked up from his perch on the couch and his breath caught in his throat as she sauntered in wearing a tight top and yoga bottoms. Almost every curve she had was on show, and right now, it felt like a private show. He cleared his throat, afraid his reply would just be a string of needy sounds. “Just had a hard day.”
“Tell me,” she said, sinking down on the couch beside him, curling her legs under her butt.
Trying his damnedest to keep his eyes front and center, he shifted an inch away. She frowned, obviously wondering what the hell was wrong with him. Why couldn’t he keep his shit together? “Problems with Zoning. Problems with contractors.” Problems with my libido. “You name it.”
“Oh poor you.” She closed the distance between them, laying her head on his shoulder. A lock of blond hair fell onto his chest and he curled it around his finger idly. “You want to give tonight a miss?”
“Hell no.” He needed a drink after the day he’d had. “Give me an hour to go over the plans I brought home, and then I’ll shower and change. Deal?”
“Deal!” She kissed him lightly on the cheek, her glossed lips clinging to his skin for a fraction. His heart thudded and his cock jumped, forcing him to sit forward and hide his response. “I need a shower anyway. I’m all icky from the beach.”
Icky is not how he would describe her. At all. In fact, the way she sashayed toward the hallway was damn near feline. He sucked in a breath as she turned her head a fraction, catching him staring, no doubt. A perplexed little smile curled her lips and she paused. “Dressy, or casual?”
“Casual.” Definitely casual – he didn’t think he could handle seeing her in another short skirt just yet.
~
Sophie
What the hell, she thought, pulling out a pair of capri pants and a halter top in a bright yellow. This is about as casual as I get. Pulling her hair into a high ponytail, she let the mass of waves tumble down to her shoulders, just fixing a strand here and there for emphasis. She dotted some concealer on her dratted freckles and slicked her lips with cherry flavored gloss. Slipping her feet into a pair of strappy sandals, she’d just about decided she was ready when she heard Logan shout from the hallway. “Are you decent?”
“Yup,” she replied swinging the door open and trotting into the hall. “I’m ready.”
~
The bar was packed, a writhing mass of bodies already moving in unison on the small area designated as a dance floor. The heat was cruel with so many bodies packed into such a small space and Sophie fanned herself with a napkin, wishing they’d open the large doors on either side of the bar to let a bit of cross-breeze flow through.
“Hot in here, huh?” Logan watched her fan herself, amused. She guessed he was used to the press of the crowd and the heat they gave off, living here the last few years.
“Yeah,” she replied testily. “You’d think they’d install air-conditioning.”
“They have. Look.” He pointed to an AC unit behind the small bar, which was only just powerful enough to give the staff some reprieve from the heat.
“Oh, great. It’s the munchkin version of air conditioners.”
Logan’s deep laugh rumbled in her ear as he leane
d in close. “Do you want to leave? We could take a walk on the beach instead.”
“No,” she replied quickly, not knowing why the idea of a walk on the beach – with her stepbrother, for God’s sake – would make her so nervous. That silly crush she'd had on him years ago had fizzled out. For the most part, at least. “It’s fine here.”
She gulped a mouthful of her coke as Logan settled himself onto the stool beside hers. They were lucky enough to just nab the last free table around the dance floor. Taking a calming breath she asked him about the new band.
“Oh you’ll love them,” he replied with a wide smile.
She noticed how perfectly white his teeth were, and found herself mumbling “all the better to bite you with, my dear.”
“What?” He leaned forward, a frown playing between his brows.
“Oh, nothing. I was just saying I hope there’s no fights in here.”
“No,” he laughed. “This is a nice place. I come here a couple of times a week.”
She wondered if he came here alone or took his various floozies, and then reminded herself that it was absolutely none of her business. “So tell me about the band.” She had to raise her voice to be heard over the screaming jukebox.
“They’re a cover band,” he began and Sophie followed his lips as they shaped the words. “They do rock, mostly.” Again he smiled, and she mimicked the movement, subconsciously attuned to his every tiny facial nuance. “But they do some Grunge, at the start of the set.”
“Nirvana?” she asked, excited. She’d loved Nirvana since he'd introduced her to them as a teenager.
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