by Lane Hart
Conveniently, there are napkins sittin’ in the center of the long table, so I grab some and clean her up while a satisfied smile stretches across her beautiful, flushed face.
“Ready for breakfast?” I ask her with my own grin, stickin’ the two fingers that had just been inside her into my mouth and suckin’ them clean.
“Sure,” she answers with a laugh. “I made some coffee, but didn’t know if you’d rather have it or orange juice?”
“Definitely orange juice,” I say since it reminds me of her taste and smell.
Helpin’ her sit up, I can’t stop grinnin’ like an idiot at how nice and easy it is bein’ with her, talkin’ about somethin’ so domesticated as breakfast beverages while she looks like a goddess sittin' naked on my kitchen table.
“I love your house and the view,” Claire says softly, her head still turned toward the lake when I grab her waist to guide her feet back down to the ground. “It’s like a beautiful painting come to life.”
“It is now.”
“Do you ever go out on the lake?” she asks.
“Yeah, I’ve actually got a double decker pontoon boat docked further down the path at the landin’,” I tell her. “It even has a motherfuckin’ water slide.”
“No way!” She laughs. “You’ll have to take me out some time to show me actual scenes I can paint.”
“I may also have a beach house,” I brag to her with a grin.
“Get out!” she exclaims with a smack to my arm. “You lucky bastard. Can you see the ocean from it?” She asks the question and then waits with an incredibly childlike, wide-eyed awe of anticipation on her face, like if the answer is yes it would be the equivalent of tellin’ her Santa Claus really exists. I can’t fuckin’ wait to blow her beautiful mind.
“Ah yeah, sort of,” I hedge. “The dunes obscure the view from the ground level, but it’s a pretty clear shot from the second and third story decks.”
Her jaw drops open for several long seconds. Then she asks the last thing I expect, carvin’ out a slice of my heart to go with it. “Do you have pictures? Because that would be so cool if I could use them to paint from. I’ve only seen the ocean once and that was right when we moved down here four years ago.” She starts talkin’ faster, ramblin’ in a cute, excited way. “Mason, Mandy and I drove all the way to the coast early one morning, walked on the beach and then were back home in Durham that night since we didn’t have money to spend on a hotel room. It was way too short, and somewhat crazy, but the three of us just wanted to go because we’d never experienced something so amazing before, you know? It was the middle of January, so we couldn’t exactly go swimming, but the road trip and day were still a lot of fun,” she says with a smile of reminiscence.
“Baby, I can do better than pictures,” I tell her. Arms around her waist, I hug her to me tightly rather than let her know how so many of the things she absently mentions about herself and her family break my heart. “We can go to the beach anytime you want.” Most of the year I rent the house out through a realty company, because I train so much and only use it a few weeks in the summer, but I will personally throw whoever is stayin’ there out myself if I have to for me to take Claire whenever she says the word.
Claire lowers her eyes to her palms restin’ on my chest, but not before I see the moisture wellin’ up in her eyes. “My mom never got to see the ocean,” she says softly. “And there’s something about that…everyone should be able to stand with their toes in the sand at least once before they die to experience the feeling of knowing there’s nothing but the ocean on the horizon. If that’s not a truly religious experience, then I don’t know what is. And I hate that she missed it.”
“I’m sorry you lost her so soon, and that you never got to go with her. You’re right, it’s somethin’ everyone should get a chance to do,” I tell her, placin’ a kiss on her forehead. “Seein’ the ocean for the first time is like lookin’ at the very essence of life. Creation even. There’s somethin’ pure and overwhelmin’ about it that takes your breath and fills up your soul with a piece you didn’t know was missin’.”
“Exactly,” she says with a stunnin’ smile that’s more powerful than anything Mother Nature has to offer. The woman has to be the eighth natural wonder of the world, and here she is, standin’ naked with me in my kitchen. How did I get so damn lucky?
“I’m really glad you came over last night,” I tell her again. In those moments before she pulled up, it felt like everything was goin’ to hell. She managed to turn it all around, givin’ me one of the best nights of my life.
“I’m really glad I did, too. And I’m glad that was your sister,” she responds, still beamin’ up at me.
“I want you to meet my parents and Hailey sometime. She knew there was so much shit going on last night that she thought it would be best to get out of our way and not add any more drama.”
“Things don’t seem nearly as bleak today,” she says while watchin’ her fingertips trace over my abs. “Why don’t we eat breakfast and then take a nice, long, shower together before I have to go to work?”
“Best fuckin’ idea ever,” I agree, wishin’ I could recreate this mornin’ routine with her on a daily basis.
…
Claire
“Hey, Mandy? I’m heading out.” I knock on my sister’s closed door with my purse and overnight bag on my shoulder, and car keys in my hand.
“Gotta work?” she asks, sounding groggy. James’s black sedan was in the parking lot so I assume the bastard’s in there with her. I try not to think of what they’re doing.
“It’s almost eleven, so I just got off work,” I tell her.
After my extremely long eight-hour shift, the soles of my feet are killing me, and I’m exhausted and ready to pass out, especially after last night and this morning’s exertion at Linc’s. But when he walked me out to my car, he looked down at me with those warm navy blue eyes and asked me to come back over and stay with him again tonight, regardless of the late hour. I quickly agreed at the same time my heart did a little jump for joy. I will gladly make the half-hour trip to his place again.
“Oh, I didn’t know it was so late,” I hear Mandy mutter softly before her door cracks opens. My heart sinks at the dark circles under her eyes and how frail her collarbone looks jutting out from her robe. “So then where are you going?”
“Um, to Linc’s, so I won’t be back until the morning.”
“You really like him, don’t you? You seem…happy,” she remarks.
“Yeah, I do and I am.”
“Good. I’m happy for you. You deserve a decent guy.”
“So do you,” I say despite the fact that there’s an asshole within earshot, lying in her bed.
“Have fun,” she says with an attempted smile that falls too quickly.
“Are you okay?” I ask. “Everything all right?”
“Yeah of course. Your rich boyfriend’s paid off all my debt with the snap of his fingers. You’re gonna make a shitload of money for a video everyone thinks is the new, improved me. So what’s there to worry about?”
I take an involuntary step backwards when her unusual bitterness catches me off guard. I’m not sure if I’m hurt or pissed. There’s also a little guilt that everything does seem right in the world for me. Everything except my sister, who desperately needs a really good long-term rehab program, and a hotheaded brother who is one more assault or drug charge away from serving prison time.
You would never know it now, but the three of us were raised in a loving home by our single mother. She had me and Mandy with one man and then Mason three years later with a different one. You think she would’ve figured out the whole where babies come from thing after I was an accident, but thankfully she didn’t, or I never would’ve had a brother and sister.
Our mom worked two jobs to do everything she could to give the three of us a normal childhood. She also smoked a pack of cigarettes a day and died of lung cancer when she was only thirty-eight years old. I was nine
teen at the time, so Mandy was seventeen, about to turn eighteen, and Mason was only a lost and pitiful thirteen-year-old boy. They both became my responsibility from that day on.
I successfully raised them both to adulthood, both graduating high school, without either getting knocked up or knocking someone up, so that seems like a partial success. I wasn’t, however, able to stop Mandy from going into the porn business when she turned eighteen, or able to stop Mason from fighting and getting caught smoking weed all the time starting at age sixteen. When the three of us moved to North Carolina, things only got worse as far as Mandy and illegal drugs, much worse drugs than Mason’s marijuana. Although I'm not sure if Mason is still using regularly since it can't be good for his training, I’m pretty sure he’s selling it, since he somehow manages to have his own apartment and car without an actual job. Fighting for Vito doesn’t pay that well. Still, nothing he’s ever done is as bad as Mandy’s drug abuse.
Maybe I feel guilty because I know how easily it could have been Mandy instead of me at the strip club that night with Linc. It should’ve been her. If she hadn’t been passed out, high as a kite, would our roles be reversed? Would I be the one still depressed and unhappy while Linc swooped Mandy off her feet? Honestly, I don’t see my sister wanting more from Linc than his money. Which reminds me…
“Now that Vito’s paid off can we talk about you possibly going into another treatment program?” I ask Mandy, bracing myself for her reaction.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“It’s a waste of money,” she says with an eye roll.
“You mean it’s money you’d rather be spending on more drugs? Do you realize how fucked up that is, Mandy?”
“Drop it, Claire,” James says from inside the room.
My teeth grind together in annoyance when the asshole butts in. “We’re gonna talk tomorrow,” I tell Mandy before heading for the front door. I’m too tired to argue now, and I’m in a hurry to get to Linc’s. There’s something about his beautiful lake house that is soothing and comforting to me, like painting. Or maybe it’s just being with him. He’s different from any other man I’ve known.
During the half-hour drive to Cary, I try to think back to the last guy I dated. Dan and I met in the grocery store checkout line, and he asked me out. Within the first ten minutes into the date I knew I’d made a mistake. He was thirty years old and still lived at home with his mom. Which, if he’d had a good reason like to save money for a down payment on his own house, he was paying off student loans, or she was sick, would’ve all been perfectly fine. But nope, he actually said he still lived at home because he had it made. His mom cooked and cleaned for him while he sat around on his ass all day, not the least bit motivated to get a job and support himself.
Before that date was Sam, eight or nine months ago. He was a decent guy, very smart, handsome, even hilariously funny. The problem came in the bedroom. There was absolutely no spark. Not even a single flare. Worst sexual experiences ever, not just the first time, but the second and third too. I was trying to give our relationship the benefit of the doubt as just being new. Nope. Sam didn’t do it for me, not like Linc does.
Just being in the same room with Linc gets me hotter than when I was intimate with Sam or the other two unmemorable guys before him. I see Linc and there’s instantly a smile on my face. He’s a really great guy, and I’m lucky to have ended up stripping for him instead of my sister. Ugh. Just the thought of him with her makes me shiver, and I can't let go of the fact that he was there to see her that night, not me. He wanted the kinky porn star.
Winding my way down the gravel road to his secluded house, I see the porch light is on for me. Before I step out of my car he’s opening the front door and walking out on the porch like he can't wait to see me. Yep, the smile on my face when I see him is an automatic response. Not to mention he looks so freaking sexy, wearing nothing but loose jeans riding low on his hips, his hands casually shoved in his front pockets. He himself is a picture perfect painting.
“Hey,” I say when I climb up the steps, my purse and small duffle bag thrown over my shoulder with a change of clothes and toothbrush.
“Hey, baby. I missed you,” he says with a panty-melting grin before enveloping me in his strong arms. “How was work?”
“Long,” I reply. Placing a kiss on his bare chest, I instantly relax at the feeling of his warmth and familiar, happy scent. “Glad it’s over.”
“Me, too,” he agrees with a heavy sigh, his nose buried in my hair. “Are you hungry? Thirsty?”
“Nope. Just ready for bed.”
He chuckles. “Sounds good to me.” Taking my hand, he leads me into the house and up the stairs to his room. I sit my purse and bag down on the floor and get undressed in the light of the bedside lamp while Linc takes off his jeans and pulls the covers back. As I climb into bed, I notice colorful hair ties and barrettes on the nightstand on my side that I didn’t notice last night or this morning.
“What’s wrong?” he asks as he stretches out on his side facing me.
“Does your sister stay here?” I ask curiously.
“Ah, no. Hailey hardly ever comes home to visit and never stays in my house. Why?”
I sit on the edge of the bed and hold up one of the silver barrettes for him to see.
“Ohhh,” he says, apparently in understanding. “Those are Sadie’s. I’m still findin’ those fuckers in random places so I started a pile.”
“Sadie?” I ask with a sinking sensation in my stomach.
He smiles at me and shakes his head. “She’s just a good friend. The girlfriend of one of my best friends, Jude Malone. Sadie stayed with me for a few weeks back in July while she and Jude were on the outs.”
“She slept in here? With you, while her and her boyfriend were fighting?” I ask. That sounds like a helluva lot more than friends.
“Uh-huh,” he says. “But I swear nothin’ ever happened. She was heartbroken and I-” He stops abruptly and looks away.
“You, what?” I ask.
“I had an unhealthy porn addiction,” he answers with a wince.
“My sister,” I say in understanding. He’d admitted that first night to what he called an obsession. I’d thought he was joking. “Is it weird that you’ve…well, you know…while watching my sister?”
“Maybe,” he says, rubbing his palm over the back of his neck. “Hell, probably. But if it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have met you.”
“What if it had been her that night instead of me, like it was supposed to be?” I ask.
“It wasn’t her. It was you,” he answers and then sits up in bed. “Are you askin’ if you’re interchangeable or a runner-up? Because you know you’re not, Claire. I’ve never met your sister, but I don’t need to in order to know that you are the only woman I want.”
“Are you sure because-”
“Yes, I’m sure! You’ve started to get to know me pretty well over the last few days. Do you honestly think there’s any possible scenario in which she and I would have ended up together?”
“No,” I say because I can’t see the two of them…nope, I can’t fathom it.
“Then come here, and stop worryin’. There is no other woman I want. The fact that you’re here with me now blows my mind, because I’m not sure how I got so lucky.”
The honesty in his eyes is what has me crawling into his arms and snuggling against him. Logically I’m pretty sure that my insecurities are just my way of trying to find some fault with Linc and I being together. It seems too...perfect, which worries me. Nothing in my life has ever been as easy as being with him. But for now, tonight while I'm in his arms, I convince myself to let it go, and enjoy every second I have with this unexpected happiness.
Chapter Thirteen
Claire
“So how are things with Linc?” Kylie asks me as she flops down on one end of the sofa in our living room.
“Good,” I reply with a smile from my seat at the opposite end “Really good. I
think.”
“You think?”
“Uh-huh.”
“So, out with it already, what’s with the hesitation?” she orders.
Mulling over the predicament I have with Linc and his obsession with my sister, I flip channels on the television without really seeing them before finally tossing the remote down next to me. It's gonna sound bad, but I throw it out there anyway to get Kylie's opinion. “Is it weird that he likes watching Mandy’s movies?”
“Ah, honey, I’m pretty sure all men like watching porn,” she responds immediately, which has me releasing a small sigh of relief.
"I get that, I really do," I start, fidgeting with the strings on my pajama bottoms. "And if it was any other porn I wouldn’t care. But the fact that it’s my sister he was attracted to, admittedly addicted to..."
“In your crazy mind you think he wishes you were her?” Kylie offers.
“Not exactly. I mean, I know he wants to be with me. I just wonder if he is ah, disappointed with my…experience in the bedroom, or lack thereof.”
She shakes her head. “I seriously doubt he’s disappointed as long as he’s getting fucked on a regular basis…which he is, right?”
“Uh-huh.” Several times a night for the past few nights, and then repeat in the mornings usually in the kitchen. It’s a really great start to the day when he has me screaming at the top of my lungs before breakfast.
“There," Kylie says, pointing at me. "That smile on your face says you need to stop worrying so much. But if you’re freaking out about it, you could maybe just try..."
"Try what?" I ask.
"Upping the kink.”
“Upping the kink?” I repeat. “What the hell does that mean? My version of kinky is wearing a lacy thong instead of my cotton panties.”
“Well then, maybe it’s time for you to expand your kinky horizons. Hit up the sex store and find something fun that will bring him to his knees, and make you feel more confident that he's definitely very happy in the bedroom with you and only you.”
