Embody (Full Circle #1)

by S. E. Hall

  Four

  JT

  LET THE GAMES begin.

  Do I want to play? No. I’d much rather my sister believe in me and let me pursue Bellamy while she enjoys the company of Ryder—a great guy who I have no problem with her dating—but Brynn fired the first shot. And when I do play…I aim to win.

  Honestly, I feel like shit about our “arrangement” and I want my sister to be happy, but she can’t just go around issuing vetoes and unfair judgement and get away with it. So this is the way it has to be—until she surrenders.

  “Honey, help me carry these platters to the tables by the pool,” my mom says, pulling me from my unhappy thoughts.

  “Yes ma’am.” I immediately obey.

  “And maybe go change after you’re done?” she suggests hopefully, looking at my shirt and scrunching her nose. “There’s guests coming that aren’t family. Let’s not scare them, okay?”

  I act offended, holding back a grin. “Mom, I wear this shirt for you. See,” I point, “the Disney ‘D.’ Your favorite.”

  “Thank you son, now change the shirt.” She lays down the law and walks out.

  I can’t believe, of all people, my mom doesn’t appreciate my “She Wants The D” shirt. There’s just no pleasing some.

  I walk the platters out to the pool and quickly pivot toward the sound of sweet laughter. There she is—Bellamy—her and Brynn headed my way. She’s not wearing the sundress I sent her, but she is sporting the sunglasses on top of her head…so she got my delivery.

  Damn it all if she’s not even hotter in daylight. She’s a hard ten, all day, every day, but knowing I can’t have her shoots her straight to a fifteen. And as if to torture me—no bra under the sundress she has on. Probably one of those built-in numbers (yes, I have two sisters so I know weird shit like that), ‘cause while I can’t see the outline of a nipple, those big beauties are swaying in dick-throbbing rhythm with every step she takes.

  Fuck if I don’t want to bury my face in between them.

  “JT,” Brynn waltzes over, obvious mischief in her eyes. “You remember Bellamy?”

  “No, I was struck by amnesia in the last twenty-four hours and forgot,” good one, “to mention it. Of course I do.” I glare my sister down, then turn an easy smile on Bellamy. “Nice to see you again. Can I take that bag for you?”

  “Oh, um, sure. Thank you.” Her hands slightly tremble as she hands it to me.

  Yep, she wants me too.

  “You can put it in my room. Bellamy’s staying the night here,” Brynn smirks as she delivers the news she knows will drive me insane.

  “That right?” I attempt aloofness. “Well, welcome. I’ll just go put this away, then change. Mom doesn’t like my choice of shirt.”

  “Can’t imagine why not. So subtle,” Bellamy snickers, giving me a glimpse of her killer smile. Those plush, pink lips that I again admire, baring straight white teeth. And her vibrant green eyes twinkling with amusement, much more striking in the light of day. “I do love Disney, though.”

  “Oh, Lord,” I laugh. “Brynn, go introduce her to Mom. She’ll love her.”

  “She’s met Mom before,” Brynn rolls her eyes. “But come on,” she tugs on Bellamy’s hand, “let’s go meet everyone else. Bye, brother,” she gives me a wink and finger wave.

  Brat.

  I head upstairs to change, wound tight with frustration from the fucking thirst—Bellamy Morgan—that I can’t quench. I slam the door to my room. Yes, even though I have my own place, I keep a room here, as does Skylar, because we’re those weird kids who actually enjoy spending time with their parents, and my mom would never change our rooms anyway, and stomp to the bathroom to splash some cold water on my face.

  Didn’t work. I’m still so bound in knots I can barely think straight.

  Only one thing will even remotely help.

  I go back and lock my bedroom door, then do the same with the one to my bathroom…and close my eyes.

  There she is, all mine, no one telling me I can’t have her.

  “What if we get caught?”

  “We won’t, door’s locked.” I move closer, running my finger under the strap of her dress. “Take this off for me, Bellamy. Show me that gorgeous body.”

  I imagine her soft, sweet laugh of shyness, can practically smell her skin, and slowly move my hand down to take my hard, aching cock out of my trunks.

  “You don’t have to hide from me, baby. Let me see.”

  Eyes cast at the floor, and a pretty blush to her cheeks, she slides her dress off inch by inch, baring her huge, amazing tits to me.

  “Gorgeous,” I growl, palming them. “Are these for me?”

  She nods, pushing into my hands with the sexiest moan.

  My dick twitches in my grip and I squeeze, stroking myself as fast and hard as I’m breathing.

  “Jefferson,” my name is a breathy plea, “put your mouth on me.”

  I hoist her up on the counter and she lets out a little squeal just before I bend, taking one nipple in my mouth. She purrs, grabbing my hair. “More,” she begs. “Feels so good.”

  I move my hand up and down my dick even faster, her naughty begging filling my head until it falls back and I groan, long and loud, as I come.

  With a sigh of both relief and disappointment, I open my eyes, staring at myself in the mirror.

  “You’re pathetic. Jacking off to the fantasy of some girl you’ve seen twice?” I berate my reflection. “And tits only? If you’re gonna play with yourself like a horny teenager, at least get her panties off. Jesus!”

  I literally just chewed my own ass for coming before I got to the pretend pussy. Yeah, I think it’s safe to say I’ve hit an all-time low. No more of this bullshit. I clean myself up, change into clean trunks and a shirt my mom will approve of, then head downstairs with a new determination…and a new plan.

  Get through this party, call a buddy and hit some clubs. I need a twenty-one or older distraction, with touchable body parts, who doesn’t know my sister.

  “There you are! Care to join us?” My mom heads me off at the bottom of the staircase. “And thank you. That shirt’s much better. Although,” she winks, “I do love the D.”

  Well, that takes care of any lingering chub I was packing. Thank you, mother.

  “Go help your dad with the grilling,” she chokes out past her laughter…enjoying the look on my face I’m sure.

  “Yes Ma’am.” I kiss her cheek and start to go do as told, but she stops me.

  “What’s wrong with you?” She cups both my cheeks and gives me the “Mom look.”

  “Nothing, I’m great.” I smile unnaturally wide. Big mistake, she’s a bloodhound for overcompensation. Or lying. Or…anything really.

  “My boy,” she tsks. “Lying straight to his mama’s face. Try again.”

  “Just got a lot on my mind with school coming up and work. I’m fine Mom, I promise.”

  “School comes first, and you’re almost done. Do I need to tell your dad to lay off at work some? ‘Cause I will! He better not…”

  Oh shit, she’s getting all worked up. I better do damage control before she goes and jumps my dad’s ass over an off-the-cuff lie.

  “Mom,” I gently grab both her shoulders. “It’s nothing he did, so please, not a word to him. I’m just thinking out a project. It’s fine.”

  That right brow, her suspicious one, arches and she gives me a doubting scowl. “You covering for him?”

  “No,” I laugh. “Now please, stop worrying. Tonight’s about Brynny. Let’s go have a good time.”

  “Okay,” she drawls out, still deciding if she believes me or not, but heads outside and thankfully, doesn’t march straight for my dad.

  The party’s in full swing, but I don’t seek her out. Rather, I walk to one of the coolers and grab a beer, then go join my dad at the grill.

  “Son,” he doesn’t look up, “staying the night here, I see.”

  “Huh?”

  “Beer in your hand. You’re twenty
-one, help yourself, but you’re not driving away from the house tonight.”

  “Yes sir,” I say. I’ve had one sip, but I understand his loving concern. We lost my Uncle Tate, his only sibling, in his second of two car wrecks. Neither of which involved him drinking, but it’s still a very serious matter to my father. Honestly, I think he’s a little afraid anytime we’re on the road and he certainly won’t tolerate other factors adding to the risk. “You need any help here?”

  “Got it under control. Go say hello to your family, and make sure your mom doesn’t need anything.”

  “Just came from her, she’s good.”

  “Alright, then like I said, go greet your family. And for God’s sake, check on Sawyer.”

  “Okay,” I laugh. “Anything else?”

  “Ryder. Watch his ass too, your sister’s in a bathing suit,” he grumbles, flipping a burger clean off the grill and into the yard.

  Little does he know, that won’t be a problem anymore, but I simply agree and turn to go play babysitter.

  I’m stopped by several of my father’s employees, shaking hands and thanking them for coming before I finally reach the table my Uncle Sawyer has chosen.

  “There’s the pretty boy! Sit down and have a beer with your favorite guy in the world!” He smiles and kicks out a chair for me. “Look at you, old enough to drink. I remember when you used to shit your pants and cry anytime your mom’s tit wasn’t in your mouth.”

  “Dear God,” my Aunt Emmett slaps a hand over his mouth. “Honey, drink slower and talk less. And quieter. The whole party doesn’t want to hear about Laney’s, um, mammary glands. Hi, JT, how are you, sweetie?”

  “Good.” I rise and lean over to hug her. “How are you?”

  “Just fine, angel. You about ready for school to start back up?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be,” I shrug. “Where’s Presley?”

  I look around for her… and my eyes land on someone else instead. I must breathe too loud or stare too long, ‘cause Sawyer picks up on it, immediately whipping his head around to scope out what’s snagged my attention.

  “No shit,” he laughs. “Good eye boy, but trouble. Look elsewhere. Best advice I can give ya.”

  “What are you talking about?” I play dumb, staring at my beer rather than her, or him. He’s like my mother—absolute, AKC registered bloodhound.

  “I’m gonna go find the girls.” Emmett stands. “JT, keep an eye on him, please.”

  “Will do,” I assure her.

  “Zach!” Sawyer screams across the yard. “Cart your big ass over here!”

  I just love when we have parties. Everyone on their best behavior and all.

  My Uncle Zach comes over, already grinning…‘cause he knows whatever it is he’s been invited into will no doubt be entertaining. Even I have to admit—my Uncle Sawyer’s the shit.

  “Hey JT,” he claps my shoulder and takes a seat. “Beckett, you rang?”

  “Hell yeah I did. Our boy here has himself a dilemma.”

  I look to my sane uncle and shake my head. “No, I really don’t. No clue what he’s talking about.”

  “Bullshit!” Sawyer scoffs, slamming his beer on the table. “I can’t believe after all this time you’d underestimate my powers. Zach, tell him about my powers.”

  “He has powers,” Zach confirms in a patronizing tone, while shaking his head no. “Beckett, you’re drunk. What are you torturing the kid about?”

  “Want to tell him, or shall I?” Saw raises his brows and gives me that ‘I know everything’ smug ass smile of his. “And actually, I’m not drunk. Yet. Good thing too, or I may have missed all the signs.”

  “You’re gonna have to tell him because I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I take a long swig of my beer, dreading what’s coming…he knows. He always knows.

  “Seems you and JT here share a liking for redheads, Uncle Zach,” he laughs. “Young Mr. Kendrick’s eyes have roamed over the little ginger over there with Brynn at least a dozen times. I met her, nice girl. Bellamy is it?”

  This family…either we spend way too much time together, or some members just have some psychic, voodoo type tendencies in their blood. Or both.

  “So he has good taste,” Zach grins and fist bumps me. “Why you giving him shit about that?”

  “Zach, Zach, Zach,” Sawyer shakes his head. “You’re missing the big picture, as usual. Allow me to enlighten you on the real story, which it took me about ten minutes to piece together. I swear, fucking amateurs all around me. Wears me out keeping this family on the same damn page. Try to follow along.” He leans forward on his elbows, dropping his tone to what he thinks is his “espionage voice.”

  “Our first, huge clue, don’t know how you could miss it really, is that JT isn’t making a move on her. When is the last time you can remember my young protégé here not bee-lining for a girl he was eyeing?”

  Zach scratches his chin and goes wide-eyed. “Never,” he states.

  “Exactly!” Sawyer holds up a finger in triumph. “And yet, he’s sitting here trying to act like he’s not looking at her. And every time he does look at her, our lil’ Brynny baby gives him the evil eye.”

  “Why is that?” Zach glares at me and grumbles.

  Saw that shit coming. It’s no secret that Brynn is hands-down, no contest, Uncle Zach’s favorite Squad Kid. He tends to get very unreasonable when he even thinks someone is fucking with her.

  “We kinda had an argument last night, no big deal,” I answer him.

  “About what?” he asks, no less automatic anger in his voice.

  “Hey, no sidetracking, I wasn’t done,” Sawyer interrupts. I never thought I’d say this, but I’m actually grateful he does. “Next, we must consider that JT was late to the party and his bathroom light was on up there,” he points. “And…he seems to have forgotten the top snap on his trunks. Now, what do you suppose that means?” Sawyer’s grin is beyond smug and he’s got his fingers steepled, slowly tapping them together.

  I snap my trunks under the table and drop my head in defeat. I practically handed him this one. You’re a dumbass, JT.

  “That he took a piss?” Zach naively guesses, not near as concerned with everyone’s every fucking movement, nor as one-track minded as Sawyer.

  “Perhaps,” my detective uncle drawls, “but let’s test if my theory is right. See, I think Brynny forbid you to sniff on her friend and when you saw her, your frustration over forbidden fruit sent you running to your bathroom for a quick round of ‘Yank the Snake.’”

  “Jesus Christ, Beckett.” Zach looks around to see if anyone heard, which it doesn’t seem they did ‘cause no one's gasping or choking on their drinks. “Why do we let you talk? Don’t embarrass him like that.”

  “Would you prefer ‘Pull the Mule’? He’s one of us, so I assume Mule is fitting. JT?”

  Did he just ask me how big my dick is? Of course he did.

  “And I’m out. Your turn to watch him,” I say to Zach as I stand. “Uncle Saw, you’re wrong. And insane. It’s been torturous as always.”

  “Hey,” Zach stops me by the arm. “Crazy ass aside,” he nods toward Sawyer, “if there’s anything to his crude, inappropriate theory, nix it now. Plenty of girls for you to pursue. Only one Brynn. Think about that.”

  Five

  Bellamy

  BRYNN’S FAMILY IS beyond wonderful. Everyone, even the adults, are laid back, down to Earth and piss-your-pants hilarious. Especially her Uncle Sawyer. He might be my favorite. And all her aunts, mom, sister and cousins—not a snotty or catty thing about any of them—just the most welcoming, relatable women I’ve ever met. They don’t treat you like “a kid”.” In fact, they talk as candid and unfiltered as possible, sometimes to the point of blushingly unbelievable.

  I’ve learned, after tonight, Brynn is by far the reserved one of the group. Judd, her sister Skylar’s husband, and his father Evan are the only two that even come close to her personality type. It’s an interesting dynamic—one big gr
oup of “Yins” (the crazy ones) and “Yangs” (not so crazy) to balance them out.

  I’ve also figured out what makes Brynn the quietly competitive, ace pitcher and “MVP” of our school’s softball team. “Compete” is this family’s unspoken mantra—her mom Laney, who besides my own, is the coolest mother in existence at the helm.

  After the crowd thinned out—the grandparents, Pops and Nanabug, Mr. Kendrick’s business associates and the parents and players from the softball team all leaving—the pool volleyball game, suggested (or insisted upon really) by Brynn’s mom, commenced.

  The music went up and the gloves came off.

  I currently sit in a lounger, watching the “friendly” game unfold. Brynn has asked me to go change and play several times, but frankly, I’m scared.

  For instance, Laney just spiked the ball off Ryder’s face…and put up devil horns with a cackled “take that sucka!” I’m quite sure I want no part of the fun.

  Speaking of Ryder, poor guy looks miserable. Not because of the ball to the face either. No, he’s been sullen all night. Best guess—it’s because Brynn has avoided him the entire party. I can’t think of a reason why and haven’t had a chance to ask her, but first chance I get, you bet your ass I will.

  ‘Bad Boy For Life’ starts playing and Presley yells, “look out, this is my jam” while bouncing up and down in the water. Not a good idea for a girl almost as well-endowed as me. I may have caught a flash of nipple before she adjusted.

  “Hi, Bellamy, right?” Brynn’s Aunt Emmett, who I forgot to add on my list of the demure members of the group, comes and sits down beside me.

  “Yes, hi.”

  “Why aren’t you playing?”

  “Um, it has a little too much ‘blood sport’ feel to it for me,” I laugh.

  “I hear ya. You think this is bad, play a board game with them.” She shivers. “It’s brutal. So, are you having a good time?”

  “Very, everyone’s so friendly and fun. I wish I came from a big family like this. It’s just me and my parents.”

  “Well, any friend of Brynn’s is in the fold, so you have one now. But I’ll warn you, thick skin, a good sense of humor and learning how to not let anything shock you are vital requirements with this group,” she smiles. “But the benefits are endless. Unconditional love, a ton of people to listen and help with anything you need. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”