Secrets & Lies

by Lauren Landish

  “What I want to do is see if those lips of yours are as soft as they look, and to find out if that olive tan of yours is natural or sun-enhanced, and if it is, how far it goes,” Carson says, eyes burning with desire. Immediately I'm breathless again, my heart thudding in my chest and a knot twisting deep in my guts. I want him too, but I know what he's going to say. “But I can't!”

  “Why?” I ask, and he shakes his head. “Jackson told me today, we don't share any DNA.”

  “Yeah, but you and Melissa do. And 'Lissa is as much my sister as anyone could ever be, regardless of what a DNA test would say. We've forged our bond through the tears we've shed together, and the nights I hold her as she goes through what she goes through. We've shed blood too, both me defending her, and her defending me. I've protected her, and I will protect her with every drop of my blood if need be. Before you stepped out of that van and started searing my dreams every night for the past week, I was totally ready to spend the rest of my life doing just that. I'd take care of my sexual needs some other way.”

  I'm knocked on my ass by his honesty, and I can only watch as he yanks the arrow out of the ground, sighing. “But a week ago, you did step out of that van. If you'd been just some girl at the grocery store, or some customer at the art gallery, I'd be able to move past it. You'd have the number one spot in the spank bank, so to speak. But you're not just some chance meeting, disappearing in a few minutes or hours. Melissa doesn't want you to leave, and neither do I. So I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place. No lack of irony there, is there?”

  I shake my head and smirk. “No, there isn't. Because I feel the same way. I like 'Lissa a lot. She's a special woman, and every time I hang out with her I want to learn more about her. I don't want to hurt her either. So I will watch my sarcasm around her, and try to just be honest with her. As for you...”

  “What?” Carson says, and I smile, not sarcastically but really smile, and I can see how it affects him. He's maybe as caught up as I am, and I know I'm playing with fire, but I can't help it.

  “Everything you just said about Melissa, about being there for her, protecting her, sacrificing your own needs for hers... forget your eyes, forget your face or your body, all of which are sexy. Forget that watching you shoot archery is like watching a man in total control of himself and the entire world. I've always found control attractive. But what you just said, that heart that beats inside you... that's the sexiest thing I've heard a man ever say. Ever. I'm fine with holding off for a while, letting Melissa have time to adjust, but I'll tell you Carson, I don't know if I can hold off forever.”

  I turn to walk away, when Carson calls out, stopping me. “We can't hurt 'Lissa, Andrea. I won't let that happen.”

  I look back, and see the uncertainty in his eyes, and nod. “I agree. I won't ever hurt her, Carson.”

  After talking with Melissa for hours, it becomes pretty obvious that she and BA are probably the only two people in the house who aren't aware of the unresolved sexual tension between Carson and me. We've been having sort of a girls' night in, sitting around in our pajamas and gossiping. But as we get ready to go upstairs for bed, I'm even more confused. Still, that's about the only drawback of spending time with Melissa.

  It's like Carson said when he was talking about her artwork. When I talk with Melissa, it's like being able to see the world the way it should be. It's not always super perky and happy, and there's a lot of darkness in it, but when I talk with her, I always feel like in the end good things happen to the right people.

  Carson's out at the gallery helping to set up the event scheduled for a few days from now, but Nathan's on duty again, his quiet presence on the couch reassuring Melissa when we head upstairs. “I'm glad Nathan's here,” she admits shyly as we climb to the second floor. “He and Maverick help me feel very safe.”

  “I'm glad,” I tell her sincerely. “Also, if you do have any nightmares, until Carson gets back... would you mind if I helped you out?”

  Melissa stops and looks me in the eye, smiling gently. We're just outside her room. “I'd like that very much, Andrea. I hope though that you can sleep peacefully.”

  She reaches out, and before I know it she wraps her arms around me, giving me a hug. I'm so surprised I don't do anything at first, but then I return it, and it feels nice. I imagine it's like what a hug from your sister should feel like.

  “I love you, Andrea,” Melissa says in her soft voice, and I can hear a hint of the insecurity still there. We let go, and I look at her again, and I know it took her a lot of courage to say what she just said. She's still scared I'll reject her since the only person in her life who hasn't rejected her is Carson.

  I know the truth about my feelings for her as I smile and give her another hug. “I love you too, 'Lissa. Sleep well, I'll be here for you if you need it.”

  Melissa goes into her room, closing the door quietly, and I watch it for a minute, torn. I do love her, she completes a part of my spirit that even Jackson and Katrina don't, but at the same time, I can't get Carson out of my mind. The way he looked as we shot together, his muscles tight as he held the bowstring back, the control he showed...

  “Mmm, it's been a while since you did that.”

  I realize I've wandered down the hallway, and I'm standing outside of Jackson and Katrina's room. Their date must have gone well, because the desire in Katrina's voice is hot enough to melt steel. Their door is slightly open, and I reach for the knob to close it and prevent them any embarrassment. At this distance though, I can't help but overhear more of what they're saying.

  “You better be glad that Andrea's sleeping in her basket,” Katrina purrs. “Because if she wasn't, you'd be getting…”

  I get to my room and go inside, lying down on the bed. A deep moan comes through the wall, and I'm tempted to knock on the wall, telling my brother and his wife to shut the fuck up, but I can't. It's not their fault I'm horny as hell and can't scratch this itch.

  I look around and realize I'm hearing things so clearly because our rooms are connected via air conditioning duct. I can't help but listen, my hands moving to cup my breasts, teasing my nipples. I know it's voyeuristic and a little weird, but I’m in my own world now. I’m imagining that I'm the one moaning in delight, Carson giving me exactly what I need.

  “Yes... harder... mmm, yeah... yeah baby...”

  A little whimper escapes my lips as I reach down, cupping my pussy and rubbing it through my pajama pants. I want to feel Carson's body pushing me into the mattress underneath me, his cock spreading me open, driving into me and lighting my nerves on fire. Imagining myself begging him to fuck me harder is just so fucking hot I can't help it.

  “Mmm... yes...” I whisper as I slide my right hand inside my panties. I'm already soaking wet, and sliding two fingers deep inside is easy, my back arching from how good it feels.

  I pump my fingers in and out imagining Carson above me. I picture his aristocratic face, cultured voice, and gleaming eyes, his powerful but still controlled motions. I fantasize about him making me his, his hips thrusting his cock over and over into me.

  In my mind, Carson sits back, changing the angle of his cock. He's hitting just the right spot with every stroke, pinching my right nipple, electricity shooting from my pussy to my nipple and back, building with every amazing thrust inside me.

  “Carson...”

  I'm moaning his name aloud, but I don't care who hears me.. My fingers rapidly thrust in and out, and I pinch my nipples one after another. I'm almost overwhelmed by the hot sparks of pleasure that leave me biting my lips and mewling, writhing, wanting the real thing. I'm caught on the edge, fantasy and reality working together, when the thought of Carson coming inside of me pushes me over the edge. I tease my clit one more time, grinding the heel of my hand into the hard nub, and I push myself over, my hips lifting, breath catching. It's good, so good, and I can't hold it back anymore. I cry out as my own climax washes through me, and I feel wet slickness coat my fingers.

  I sag back, at
least temporarily satiated, but still frustrated. I've wanted to touch myself for days, but this release is only temporary. Every time I hang out with Carson I want to touch myself. Like he said, caught between a rock and a hard place.

  But maybe there's a way out of it. I need to think, but before I can, I need to change shorts. I get out of bed and pull on fresh panties and shorts, putting my now soaked ones in my laundry basket. We'll need to go on a supply run soon. I doubt Carson was prepared for this as well.

  Just as I close my basket, I hear a scream from Melissa's room, and I'm out the door, running the few steps down the hall. Jackson opens his door, but I push him back without breaking stride. I know he means well, but she doesn't need to see a still sex-sweat-soaked brother right now.

  There's a thump on the stairs and I see Nathan, his Colt pistol up and ready, and I shake my head. “I've got it.”

  I open the door to find Melissa sitting up in bed, shuddering breaths torturing her poor, thin shoulders, her blonde hair hanging over her face as she buries her head between her knees, trying to do something to hide from the terror inside her. I go over, taking her in my arms and holding her, whispering in her ear. “Shh... 'Lissa. I'm here. I'm here. Remember, it's me, Andrea. Shh...”

  “Andrea... it was worse than normal,” Melissa sobs, hugging me. “So terrible.”

  “I know, 'Lissa. I know,” I say softly, just comforting her. “But it's okay now, you want to know why?”

  “Why?” she asks, turning her pretty gray eyes to me. Where Carson is strong she's vulnerable, but she's still so amazing and loving, I can't help but love her back.

  “Because you've got a sister now who's going to help you fight away all your fears,” I reassure her, stroking the hair out of her face. “And you have a new brother who loves you too, his wife loves you, and on the whole this family just happens to be some of the best asskickers in the entire world.”

  Melissa absorbs my tough talk and blinks, then smiles, an angelic smile that makes my heart sing with happiness. “Thank you, Andrea.”

  “Now close your eyes. Tomorrow, if you're feeling up to it, I was thinking maybe we could make a little trip to Paradis,” I say, helping her readjust to her bed. I don't move though, and instead lie down behind her, gathering her in my arms. She's taller than me but still feels tiny with her knees pulled up and her arms in a semi-fetal position.

  “Why?” she asks, and I chuckle, kissing the back of her head.

  “Because we've got laundry to do. And I thought you and I could talk some more.”

  “Okay. Wal-Mart okay?” Melissa asks, her voice already sleepy.

  “Wal-Mart's fine, 'Lissa. We'll take the van, and maybe Nathan. He's strong, he can haul all our stuff for us.”

  “That'd be nice. Goodnight, Andrea.”

  I wait until she's breathing deeply, once again sleeping peacefully, before I kiss her hair one more time and shift my arm to a slightly more comfortable place. “Goodnight, 'Lissa.”

  Chapter 8

  Carson

  “You went where?”

  Melissa's smile falters, but she still tries as she sets the shopping bag on the counter. “Andrea, Nathan and I went to Wal-Mart,” she says, taking out a big bottle of dish soap and putting it next to the sink. “Andrea pointed out to me last night that with us having so many more people, we've got to economy size some of our household things.”

  “Still... it's not that I'm not happy you left the house and went shopping, 'Lissa, I'm jazzed about it. But was it safe?”

  Nathan comes in, carrying six bags in between his arms, and sets them on the dining room table. “As safe as I could make it. I have fed bad intel to Peter every day we have met. He thinks that Andrea is somewhere in the Mobile area, and that Jackson and Katrina are on the run, but their location is anyone's guess. I know he is working with others, but he still trusts me more than anyone else. Today's trip took less than two hours, and we went a total of eight miles, including the short side trip through the McDonald's drive-through for McFlurries for the ladies.”

  “McFlurries, huh?” I ask, my concern evaporating with Nathan's calming reassurance. I can't help but smile, as the sweet treat has been Melissa's one weakness since we were both kids. “Oreo cookie?”

  “Of course,” Andrea says, coming in behind Nathan, and looking so sexy I can't believe it. She's not trying to, in fact she's dressed relatively conservatively in a button-down office shirt and some semi-casual pants, but the way her breasts press against the white fabric of her top, and her hair hangs over her shoulder in a functional but so sexy braid... I've always had a weakness for braids, and hers is thick, black as midnight, and long, the sort of braid I've always wanted to wrap around my hand while pulling her from behind and...

  “Carson? Carson!” Melissa says, snapping me back to reality. Thankfully, I'm standing behind the kitchen counter where I was getting a cup of coffee after getting back from the gallery, and nobody can see my hard-on. I've been working strange hours the past week, and I'm needing more coffee than normal. Part of it is due to the gallery show coming up Saturday night. Another reason, of course, is that by being at the gallery working, I can try and avoid Andrea. The problem with that is when I've been at the gallery, all I can think of is her. She's threatening my self-control, and she's not trying to, I know it. Of course that makes it even worse, because I can see in her eyes, she wants me to take control. I'm just not ready yet though, I can't risk hurting Melissa over this.

  I blink and look at Melissa, who's giving me a hopeful smile. Nobody in the world knows me better than her, and she can nearly read my mind with the way she is. But this time though, she's so off-base it isn't funny, and I'm actually glad about it. “Sorry 'Lissa, you're right. Nathan, I'm sorry. I'm just freaking out.”

  “Well, if you're really feeling sorry, you can help us unload the rest of the stuff from the van,” Andrea jokes, setting her bag down. “By the way, do you know how to change diapers?”

  “No, but I can learn I'm sure,” I shoot back, until Andrea gives me a smirk, like she's got some information that I don't know. “What?”

  “If you haven't noticed, BA has a disposable diaper allergy. She's in cloth diapers. Just a warning,” Andrea says, setting her bag down and turning around. I blink in surprise and follow her out, where I see the entire back of the van is full of things. Another bag that isn't from Wal-Mart catches my eye. It's large, black and zipped up.

  “What's that?” I ask, inclining my head toward the mysterious bag and grabbing the two closest shopping bags. It looks like Nathan planned for a siege. There's enough food here for an army, and two big twenty-five pound bags of dog food as well. “Just how much does Maverick eat?”

  “That dog? I've seen him put down a five pound chuck roast in under ten minutes, back on the DeLaCoeur grounds when he was still a puppy,” Andrea tells me, grabbing the black bag and also shouldering one of the bags of dog food. “What, thought I was too tiny to handle the big loads?”

  I've had enough of her little taunts, especially after being so openly honest with her just last night. I'd left the house to handle some issues with the gallery itself, a last-minute electrical problem, and if she can't tone it down with me, fine. I can give as good as I get. Challenge me, will she? She's going to find out I'm more than her equal in a lot of areas. “Big loads? You don't know anything about big loads.”

  Andrea stops, then gives me a raised eyebrow, then smiles. It's a pretty smile, not quite one hundred percent open, but more than the sarcastic smirks she normally gives me. “Nice effort. I'd give it a seven out of ten.”

  “Oh, I'm a seven and a half at least,” I tell her before picking up the other bag of dog food and shouldering it and grabbing three shopping bags in my other free hand. “Eight and a half, more likely.”

  I have no idea just what sort of trouble I'm unleashing though, as for the rest of the day, Andrea proceeds to flirt with me sexually. From little things like the way she wraps her mouth around the gri
lled kielbasa that we share for lunch, to the outfit she selects for working out after dinner. Like Katrina, she's wearing just a sports bra up top, but instead of the martial arts gi pants Katrina favors, Andrea is wearing shorts that'd leave a volleyball player looking for cover.

  I'm watching her doing burpees in the dirt, her butt conveniently facing the kitchen window that I'm supposed to be washing dishes next to, when Nathan comes up, a plate in his hand. “How many is she up to?”

  “Forty-five,” I answer, thankful my crotch is pointed toward the sink. “I hope she knows she's making a scene of herself.”

  “I started working for the DeLaCoeurs a little before she joined the household,” Nathan says in his gravelly voice, setting his plate in the soapy water. “When she arrived, she was a toddler who could only scream in panicked Japanese. In the years since, I have watched her grow into a fully articulated young woman. Without anyone around to speak Japanese to her, she forgot what she once knew. But she applied herself and taught herself her mother's tongue in order to more thoroughly investigate the circumstances surrounding her mother's death.

  “She graduated from university early, and is now only a semester from completing her MBA. She worked for years plotting to take down Peter. When I learned how much information she had gathered once we started cooperating, I was staggered at how much she had gotten together, all without my knowledge. I have been very good at my job for two decades, but she was completely under my radar.”

  “She's driven, committed, and very talented,” I acknowledge, rinsing Nathan's plate before putting it in the dishwasher. “And Melissa told me she loves her. There's a lot going for her.”

  “And right now, she is nearly as torn as you are,” Nathan adds quietly. “You are both fighting a mutual attraction and the desire to not hurt your sister.”

  I nod, looking at him out of the side of my eyes. “Your opinion is?”

  “That it is none of my business,” Nathan says with a small smile. “But that I have been able to focus on my meditation recently, since I cannot bring my normal supply of proper teas to this house. However, if I may give you two pieces of information?”