I shifted in my seat. The thought of Carter kissing me had gotten me excited and my underthings were getting uncomfortably damp. But how could I feel any differently? The most caring man I had ever known, and the most beautiful, wrapped up in one gorgeous, unattainable package?
I must have fallen asleep because when I came to, we were landing. Departing the plane in JFK I looked around uncertainly. The vibe here was certainly different than that of Mistwell – about 1000 miles an hour faster. There was a thrill of ambition in the air, and people moved quickly and with purpose. I tried not to bump into anyone as I made my way from baggage claim. A chauffeur in a suit and cap with a sign that had my name and the radio station’s logo on it was waiting for me, and I sighed gratefully. He graciously took my luggage and brought it to his black limousine, and I scrambled in. The soft leather seats felt lush, and comfortable, and the limo came with an intercom, a well appointed bar and fresh flowers. I could get used to this. I smiled. I bet Carter is treated this well all the time! I wonder if he’s happy? Only thing was he couldn’t travel without getting recognized by someone at this point, and causing a scene. Luckily for us, the radio station were playing it safe, and not going to publicize our date until afterward, for security reasons, so aside from his usual following I wouldn’t have to deal with any severe blowback.
The limo moved smoothly through the crowded streets. There were so many people in NYC. All kinds. Rich and poor, sophisticated, plain, genius and mad. The grey grid of streets was filled with energy and life, and I took in everything as best as I could. This was Carter’s world now, and if all went according to plan, it might become my world too.
When I got to the hotel, I was blown away by its extravagant splendor. It was the most tasteful place I had ever been in, and my simple knapsack on the sumptuous carpet, and my tatty jeans seemed even more out of place in such a lavish environment. Would Carter feel the same about me? That I didn’t belong here in the big city? A pang of trepidation went through me. I could feel a little stomachache beginning.
I realized my fears were unfounded as soon as they took me to the spa. There was a team of experts ready to prod and groom me until I was shiny and beautiful. It was like going through a beauty factory with the most prominent experts in the field, and I just knew I would leave looking chic. The first day, Shoshanna took care of my face, Wilbur massaged away my tension and muscle knots, and Liliane gave me a mudbath; Raina waxed me within an inch of my life, leaving my eyebrows shaped and the rest of me baby-smooth. The next day, Andre took care of my hair, cutting it expertly and highlighting it in a soft, face framing, glow. And Carmen, the makeup artist, gave me a natural, yet incredibly becoming look, with smoky eyes and a delicate, inviting pink lip. When I looked at myself in the mirror, it was almost like I didn’t recognize myself, but at the same time I looked more beautiful and more like myself than ever before. These were true experts! Taking and enhancing everything I was, while minimizing any little flaw or blemish. They were magicians.
In between spa treatments, I was whisked away to the most stylish and fashionable boutiques in the city. SoHo, Fifth Avenue, Bloomie’s, it was all fair game, and with the personal shopping assistants I was more beautifully dressed than ever before. I couldn’t believe I actually got to keep everything. I felt like Cinderella!
Still, I couldn’t shake the anxiety about meeting Carter. Would he take one look at me, spit out his drink in disgust, and run, or would he politely sit through the dinner? Or was it possible that he might be happy to see me? Even the best prospect was difficult, and my stomach was responding in kind. Could I look beautiful for our date if I were doubled over in pain?
The icing on the cake happened as the stylist was blowing out my hair. I heard my phone’s unmistakable texting alert through the hum of the hair dryer, and slipped it out of my pocket to see a message from my mother.
“I just couldn’t tell you before. I’m sorry, but your stepfather and I are getting a divorce. We tried our best and we both love you. Love, mom.”
Leave it to my mom to sign a text. I didn’t know what to say. On one hand, I was shocked that my mother would tell me this through such informal means. I got it though, she and I weren’t exactly close. We didn’t have big heart-to-hearts. It might be easier to say something like this over a more impersonal medium. I was sad that my mother was going through this pain, and that I wasn’t there to comfort her. At the same time, one thing was absolutely, stunningly clear to me. Carter and I would no longer be stepsiblings. We would be free to pursue one another if we so desired. The thought itself made me shudder. Could it finally be? Carter and I? Together at last? Or was I like a crazy person, coming to his city, holding on to these taboo desires and forbidden dreams? Would he think I was crazy to even consider it?
***
I stepped out of the limo, in my new, radiant blue silk Balenciaga dress, strappy Jimmy Choo heels, and Prada purse, trying to stand tall and hoping I looked every inch the celebrity Carter would look. I tried to stop catching glimpses of myself in any reflective surface, but the truth was, I hadn’t realized that I was actually a good-looking girl, until now. Of course, it took a team of experts to make me believe it, but believe it I did, and that faith allowed me to see Carter feeling nothing if not confident. I smiled at the chauffeur who would be waiting for my command all evening, and then walked into the restaurant. It was nothing like the chain restaurants in Mistwell; candlelit, with a soft glow, and discreet staff who were carefully watching every move of every patron, anticipating and fulfilling their needs before they even knew they had any. I wobbled a tiny bit on my heels, and the host came up beside me, discreetly took my arm in a steadying motion and said,
“You’re Heather? We have been expecting you.”
I smiled at him. “Yes, thank you. I am here to meet –“
“Carter, yes.” He smiled back. “He is waiting for you. I am sure he will be more than happy to see you.”
I walked in the large room on the host’s arm, and was greeted by the most magnificent sight: my stepbrother Carter, standing by his table, smile on his face. He was dressed in a tux that fit him like a glove, showing off his form in a way that would be obscene if it weren’t so classy. His grin became ear-to-ear when he saw me. The host escorted me to my seat, pulled it out, and as I sat, he poured me a glass of champagne with an expert movement.
“My lady, is there anything else you need?” He asked, with an almost imperceptible wink.
“No sir,” I replied. “I can’t imagine needing anything else. Ever!”
We all grinned, before the host recomposed his face, and replied, “Very good, my lady,” before discreetly moving away.
Carter’s eyes were wide.
“God, Heather, I hoped it was you,” He said. “I have been dreading this date until they told me your name. I thought, what were the chances that it could be you?” He grabbed my hand on the table and gently caressed it, sending electric jolts through me. His skin was so soft, his hands so big, graceful and warm. “You look incredible.”
Incredible? Me? He looked incredible. How was it possible to be wearing a suit, and still look ripped? I felt my body respond immediately to his over-the-top sexiness. No wonder people paid him just to be there. But under all that, he was still my closest friend. His eyes were so blue, boring into my innermost self.
“Carter, when I came across this contest, I knew I had to enter. I had to see you,” I said quietly. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Mind, are you kidding? I am overjoyed!” His smile was so charming, I was melting.
“But we haven’t seen each other in so long.” I had to say it, since nothing would mean anything to me if we didn’t at least acknowledge this. Just then the waiter came up and poured drinks, and took our orders, so we weren’t able to explore it and were distracted. But at least it was said.
I barely was able to eat anything during the dinner, but we talked and laughed and enjoyed ourselves immensely. The radio station photog
raphers caught us in many poses, Carter looking unfathomably gorgeous I am sure, but I hoped I held my own.
We stayed a lot longer than they did, though. It wasn’t until Carter excused himself and came back from the bathroom, a stricken look on his face, that I remembered the text my mother had sent earlier on, telling me that she and Carter’s dad were through. He must have just gotten the news.
“What is it Carter?” I asked, putting my hand on his. He was white as a sheet,
“Uh… I am not sure how to say this, Heathe,” he said as ran his hand through his hair to the nape of his neck. “Did you talk to your mom recently?”
“Uh, yeah, I guess I did.”
“Did she tell you about her and my father?”
“You mean that they think they’re breaking up?” I asked.
“It’s gone a lot further than that. It’s happening. Dad’s seen a lawyer, and the divorce papers are being drawn up as we speak.”
“Oh my god,” I said. “How are you doing with it?”
“Well, I guess I have a lot of feelings about it, but I am concerned about you,” he croaked.
“Carter, about me?”
“Well, I am wondering what you are going to do. My dad’s going to keep the house and your mom is talking about moving.”
“Huh, I don’t know.” I laughed. “I guess for the moment I’ll stay here with you.”
“You know you can, right?” he said, his grip tightening on my hand. “No joke.”
“What? Really?”
“By all means,” he said. “I’ll take you to my place now.” He signaled the waiter.
“But what about the hotel?” I said, confused.
“Never mind the hotel.”
“Carter, are you serious?” I asked. I hadn’t really thought our date through to this conclusion. I hadn’t let myself.
“Absolutely.”
He told the waiter we were leaving and we jumped in the limo, only a few hangers on waiting for us and staring at him. In the limo, Carter came clean to me. He wasn’t happy by himself in NYC. He needed me to be there, and if I wanted, I could go to NYU, or we could travel. He would fund it, but it had to be something I wanted.
But I still left unasked the one question I had come to find the answer for: Why did you leave me Carter? Why did you leave me alone?
***
We drew into his private parking lot, sent the limo on its way, and took the elevator up to the third floor. It was gorgeous, peaceful, quiet, and classic. I sat on the distressed leather coach and pulled a throw around me. He sat down beside me and stared at me for a moment.
Finally alone in his palace of a brownstone, he traced the faint scar on my leg, and as he did, he gently and tantalizingly slid the silk of my skirt up my thigh. He cleared his throat.
“Heathe, I’ve got to tell you something and it’s not easy to say, but it’s gone unsaid for far too long. I left because I love you. I never wanted this life, this silly superficial life. But I needed to get away from our home in order to make something of myself, and to be able to come back for you if and when you were ready. I was counting on the fact that you would feel the same way as I do. But instead of me returning for you, you came and found me.
“Honestly I didn’t want to agree this radio date promotion – in fact, I fought tooth and nail with my publicity people about it.” He smiled to himself. “I finally capitulated only because I have a few months left in my contract, but after that I am free to do as I wish. ” He was still gently touching the spot on my leg, sending fiery shivers of desire through me as I knew we both were remembering the day he had taken tender care of my self-inflicted cuts. “But now I know it was fate to bring you here. When you came, were you coming as my sister, or as my date?”
“I came here for you, to be with you. And I am not your sister anymore.” I couldn’t believe the words were coming out of my mouth, but what was the use in being coy?
It was true.
Carter took me in his arms, gently, inexorably. They felt familiar, comfortable and warm, and at the same time incredibly exciting. His strong arms were so different from the boyish arms that encircled me in the past, and if it were possible, doubly exciting. His breath was hot against my ear as he whispered, “And now I have enough to take care of the both of us in style for the rest of our lives. Oh Heathe, I need you. I need you with me, as my partner, as my truest friend, as my love.”
“I need you too, Carter.” It felt so good to finally say it. “I have been waiting for you for so long.”
His mouth blazed a trail to my mouth, covering it with hot kisses. Our lips and tongues mingling, wordlessly saying so many things to each other: You are precious, I love you, I need you, I have waited for you so long, I want you, I want you forever, I am yours.
His hands clutched me, holding me tight, both of us knowing we would never have to be apart again. He was lengthening, hardening, and this time I couldn’t mistake it as random as I had when we were kids – I would finally be able to explore him fully, completely, without shame or guilt. We eagerly pulled off each other’s clothing, delighted to reveal every step of our nakedness. His body was a revelation. It had to be sculpted by many hours at the gym, and my fervent fingers excitedly discovered every nook and cranny of his cut musculature, and at the same time, just the himness of him. I could have cared less if he were fat or thin, instead of the perfect specimen he had become, but the beauty of his body was a delight to every sense.
He pulled my dress above my head, revealing my new silk lingerie, and gazed at my breasts and belly. Finally, softly, he said, “You’re so beautiful, Heathe,” before falling upon them and covering them with soft, urgent kisses. His tongue on my nipples was exquisite, and all I could think of was how much I wanted to feel it between my legs, sucking and licking, sending me into oblivion. I kept having to tell myself that it was really him, it was really Carter, kissing and loving me, promising me what I had longed for since the first day we met. I felt him reach behind me, pulling my hips closer to him, grinding his heat against my sex, fueling my desire and making me want him more and more. Crave. I craved him, this man who was my stepbrother, who would be my lover, my friend, my husband. We would leave this life, and leave Mistwell behind as well, finding our way as we wished, as we had both secretly imagined. I felt a new wildness come from inside me, that demanded him.
I slid off my flimsy new panties, revealing my nakedness. As I did, the look in Carter’s eyes was something I had never seen in my life. It was strong, it was soft, it was filled with longing and desire and determination. Fully enraptured. And I felt the same way. Everything about him was perfect. The way I felt about him. The way I knew him to be. But straight down to his soft skin, his taut muscles, the fine hairs on his body, all perfect, all gorgeous, soft and hard, and all inviting.
He looked at me questioningly. “Are you still a virgin, Heathe?” He asked, gently.
“I am.” I looked down, ashamed. He drew my chin up, forcing me to look into his blue, blue eyes again.
“Are you sure you’re ready? Or do you want to wait?” His concern was evident on his face, brows furrowed, mouth falling open slightly like it did when we were kids.
“Oh Carter, I am so ready. I have been ready for you for so long. Please take me now.” My hand caressed the V of his hips, reaching toward his hardness.
“That’s what I needed to hear,” he murmured, as he drew me closer. “I love you so much, baby, and I always have. You are the one for me.”
“I love you too Carter!”
He held me so tight, his length pressing against me, petal-soft skin and hard as a rock at the same time. I could feel myself get slick, engorged. His hands were the first to touch me there, fine, soft touches at first and then pressing into me, filling me gently as he kissed me all over. His lips got closer and closer to my center, and I was squirming in bliss, still incredulous that Carter was kissing me there, bringing me to a point of no return, and then his lips split my folds and he sucked
gently and sweetly on my clit as he slid his fingers inside me. I thought I would explode, and I guess I did, coming quickly to a deep, full orgasm. My walls contracted against his fingers that were still nudging in and out of me, preparing me for his sex, his massive stiffness, to enter. Despite it being my first time, I felt more relaxed than I had in forever, knowing that Carter wanted me, needed me. All I wanted was for him to come inside.
When he entered me, I thought it would hurt, but it didn’t. He was gentle, patient, skilled. Despite the sheer size of him, he never rushed me, and before long I was urging him to come inside me more, pushing on his ass, wanting him to be rougher, and he was only too happy to oblige, bucking and clutching me, filling and emptying me of his giant cock, sliding against my pussy.
“I keep thinking of that day that I found you on the bathroom floor,” he breathed as he filled me again and again. “I knew I loved you then and that I would never do anything to hurt you as long as I could help it. I just wanted to take you then and there.”
Stepbrother Rogues: A Steamy Three-Story Collection (A Bundle of Standalone Stories featuring Rebel Stepbrothers) Page 12
