by Penny Wylder
The rougher he is with me, the stronger my lust seems to grow. I crave to be mastered, longed to be taken. I must be completely transparent, because just as the thoughts enter my head, he stands up, still inside of me, and pushes me up against the wall.
“Yes, fuck me hard,” I insist.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” he says as his powerful hips slam against my ass, the sound of our slapping skin fills the room with sound.
“Mm hmm, deeper,” I say on a shaky breath as he drills into me.
He fucks me so hard my vision blurs. Can you pass out from pleasure? I feel half out of my mind, like a wild animal. I can’t get enough.
He grabs my arms, holding them behind my back as if they were the reins on a horse. Using them to thrust even deeper.
I cry out, my voice echoing off the walls as my body surges with the electric feeling of an orgasm. He hits it even harder, dismantling my thoughts and forcing me into a cataclysmic orgasm that leaves me slumped against the wall, arms and legs shaking.
His body goes rigid, and with one more hard push into me, he stays there. I can feel his cock jerking, releasing its load, filling me with warmth.
Mac wraps his arms around my waist, kisses the back of my neck. He lays his head on me and I’m holding us both up, it seems.
“I should go,” I tell him.
“Why do you rush off after sex with me? I’m starting to think that’s all you want me for,” he says, mocking offense.
I turn around to face him. He’s covered in sweat, both mine and his. How does he look so good after sex? I know I’m a complete mess. I can feel my hair out of place, sticking up in all directions. My skin is slick with melting foundation, and my under-eyes flaky with smeared mascara. I don’t even want to see the wreck that is my face.
“It’s not like that. It’s just, I still need to unpack and get a few things for the house that I left behind in Oregon.”
“I’ll go with you.”
I open my mouth to protest. But then I stop myself. He wants to spend time with me, and I want to spend time with him. I’m tired of saying no to him. I need to tell Nathan—not about Mac and me being together, but about Mac’s gym not being a regular gym at all. Maybe then this rivalry can finally come to an end, and I might stand a chance at something more than a quick fuck with Mac. The more time I spend with him, the more I realize he’s better than my fantasies ever were.
“Okay,” I say.
As we leave to get into Mac’s car, we pass a truck in the parking lot that looks just like Nathan’s. It can’t be his, though. He’s at work. And why would he be at Mac’s gym anyway? Even though it’s not him, it makes me paranoid anyway. I want to tell Nathan myself, not let him find out I’ve been talking to Mac through someone else. That would just piss him off and make him feel like he can’t trust me.
I spend the day with Mac. We go to the next town over to do the shopping. Even though he doesn’t like keeping us a secret, he understands why it has to be this way for now. Out of town we can be as flirty as we want to be. He even holds my hand as we walk through the mall. I like this. I like it far more than I want to admit. I can feel myself falling harder and harder for him. Is it possible to fall in love with someone in two days? I mean, we’ve been sleeping together for two days, but my infatuation for him spans years, so I’m guessing that’s why it’s so easy for me to fall for him. He didn’t have that same crush on me for all those years, so I’m sure his feelings for me are different than mine. It makes me sad to think he might not be feeling the same way for me, but I try not to let it show.
It’s getting late by the time he takes me back to my car.
Before I get out of the passenger seat, he takes my hand and holds me there. “When can I see you again?”
“I don’t know,” I tell him.
“Come by the gym tomorrow if you can. I’ll take you to lunch.”
“I’ll try. It depends on what happens when I talk to Nathan tonight.”
He looks at me, hopeful. “You’re going to tell him about us?”
“I’m going to tell him about your gym and that he has nothing to worry about. I’ll tell him about us eventually.”
I like that he said “us.” It makes me think this is more than just a fling.
“Text me and let me know how things go,” he says.
“I will.” I kiss him goodbye and go back to my car.
5
When I get home Nathan is already there. He said he wouldn’t be home until six, but it’s not even five thirty. Maybe he got home early to spend time with me.
I go inside and find Nathan sitting at the kitchen table. It’s mostly dark except for the light on above the stove.
“Hi,” I say, dumping my shopping bags on the counter in the kitchen. “I got a few things that you were missing—like actual edible food.”
He still hasn’t spoken to me and he hasn’t moved. I know my brother. There’s something wrong.
“What is it? What happened?” I say.
My first thought goes to my parents. They are getting older and I dread the day that the phone rings and something has happened to one of them.
He stares at me as if he’s contemplating what to say next while he picks at his bottom lip.
“Nathan, I know something’s wrong. Just tell me what it is.”
“I saw you,” he says in a cold, unemotional voice. It’s completely empty. No anger, no sadness. Nothing. It’s almost frightening.
“What do you mean?” I say, my stomach sinking. What exactly did he see? All the horrible scenarios jump through my mind.
“A friend of mine saw you talking to Mac at the grocery store. I told him he was wrong, so I went to the store to see for myself. I saw you get into his car, then go to the pier, and then to his gym. How could you, Wanda? You know how much I hate him.”
Fuck. It’s happening exactly how I hoped it wouldn’t. Now he will see everything I’ve done as a betrayal.
“You’re wrong about Mac, Nathan. He’s not opening a competing gym. His is a rehabilitation center. It’s going to be a place for people to have physical therapy and to recover from traumatic injuries. It’s a completely different kind of business from yours.”
He looks shocked at first by the news, and then some of the tension seems to roll off his rigid shoulders, but the anger is still ever present. That part hasn’t changed.
“I don’t care if he’s a perfect angel, I still don’t want you around him. I don’t trust him.”
I shake my head, dumbfounded by the way he’s acting. “Do you even hear yourself? Do you hear how crazy that sounds? Mac has done nothing but be nice to me. He’s helping people at his business, people who otherwise wouldn’t be able to get the treatment they need because he has a plan to help with their co-pays and insurance issues. He’s asked me to work for him.”
“Work for him?” Nathan says, sounding appalled. “Doing what?”
“He wants me to design the apparel he plans to sell to help out with the patients’ financial assistance. He’s offering me the opportunity to do what I love for a living, make good money, as well as help people. Does he really sound like a terrible person?”
His jaw clinches and he has that familiar pissed off look in his eyes that I know all too well. It doesn’t matter what kind of logic I throw his way, he doesn’t want to hear it. He’s already made up his mind. He’s just as stubborn as my dad always was. How my mom ever put up with both of them in the same house, I’ll never know. Hell, I don’t know how I put up with the both of them all those years. Maybe coming home was a bad idea after all.
Without a word, Nathan storms out of the house, slamming the door on the way out. His truck roars to life seconds later and he peels out of the driveway with a screech of the tires.
There’s a tightness in my chest and heaviness behind my eyes that come just before the tears. I don’t want to cry, but I can’t help it. They start to flow whether I like it or not.
I sit at the ki
tchen table, crying into my hands. I’m so exhausted. It seems like every time something good comes along in my life, something happens to steal it away. I knew Nathan was stubborn, but I never thought he was the kind of person to argue against reason. He knows what I say about Mac is true, and that he was wrong about him, he’s just too full of pride to admit it.
There’s a knock on the front door. I wipe my eyes and look through the peephole, hoping it’s not someone trying to sell something.
It’s not. I open the door. Mac is standing there with his hands in the pockets of his jeans.
“I heard Nathan’s truck roar out of here. I wanted to see if you were okay.”
“You can’t be here. If Nathan sees you he’ll lose his mind.”
“I’m not worried about Nathan. I’m concerned about you,” he says, wiping at a stray tear with his thumb.
“I’m okay. We used to fight like this from time to time growing up. It just feels a little more dramatic now that we’re both adults. He’ll calm down. Once you go back with your team, I’m sure he’ll forget about it all together. I think having you next door has just rattled his cage a bit,” I say.
He looks down at his shoes, and swats at a bug flying past his face in the porch light. “I’m not going back to my team.”
“What?” I say, surprised.
“Can we go somewhere and talk? These bugs are dive bombing me.”
I don’t want to invite him in and risk Nathan coming home. He’d really lose his mind then, and I’m not sure Mac would make it out of the house alive.
He motions over to the rope swing in the front year. “Climb up, I’ll give you a push,” he says.
My hips and ass are too big to climb through the hole of the tire like I used to, so I sit on top of it, wrapping my legs around and locking my ankles so I don’t fall off as he pushes me. The tree branch creaks, and I just hope I’m not too heavy for the old oak.
“What happened?” I ask. “Why aren’t you playing for the Whalers anymore?”
He lets out a long sigh. “When my mom died last year, I came home to take care of the house and her affairs, but after I went back to the team, things just weren’t the same. My head wasn’t in the game. I realized the only reason I was still playing for the Whalers was because it made my mom so happy to watch me play. Now I just don’t see the point. It doesn’t make me happy anymore. I’m sick and tired of not being happy. I want to do something that matters and that helps people. That’s why I’m opening my gym. I want to make a difference.”
“I didn’t know,” I say. “I followed your career closely, but I never heard anything about it on the news or in the papers.”
“The media doesn’t know yet. I’ve only told my coaches. They’re trying to get me retired instead of having me quit so I can keep my endorsements. They’ve been supportive and they understand.”
“You’re amazing, you know that?” I tell him.
He stops the swing and stands in front of me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. “So are you.” He brushes the hair out of my face. My eyes burn. I can feel them swelling up the way they do after I cry. “I want you to know this isn’t just a fling for me. Now that we’re both back in town to stay, I want to get to know you better,” he says.
I nod, trying not to cry again. Hearing him say that makes my heart burst with joy. Even though it might destroy my relationship with my brother, I want to be with Mac. At first, when I thought Nathan had a genuine reason to hate Mac, I was willing to back off. But now that I know his hatred for him is only based on Nathan’s own insecurities, I’m not going to let him keep me from something real, something I’ve always wanted. Mac is too important to me to just let go.
He kisses me and I don’t care who sees. A neighbor will probably tell Nathan, but I’m not worried about it any longer. I’m done hiding from my brother.
“Can I see you tomorrow?” he asks.
I smile and nod at him.
“Good. I’m going to hold you to that.”
He kisses me one last time and I watch him walk back to his house. I stay on the swing a while longer, wondering if Nathan will come back or if he plans to stay mad at me all night.
I stay on the swing and think, and watch the lights in Mac’s house go off. It’s midnight by the time I go inside the house and Nathan still isn’t home. He must’ve been really pissed. I wonder who he could be staying with. Maybe he has a girlfriend he never told me about.
I go to my room. Mac’s bedroom light is on. I sit on my window seat and watch as he gets ready for bed. My light is off, so it’s easy to see him. He glances at my window, but I don’t think he can see me. He stands right in front of the window, facing my house as he takes off his shirt. I can’t help but giggle and wonder if he’s trying to give me a show to make me feel better. If so, it’s working. Maybe he can see me after all. Was he watching me on the swing? Did he see me go into the house and assume I would go back to my room and see him changing?
I pick up my phone and find the number he gave me.
Looking good, I text him.
He picks up his phone. Even from this distance I can see the smile on his face as he reads it. He puts the phone down on the desk next to him and takes off his jeans next. I sit up a little straighter.
Take it all off, I tell him.
He glances at his phone seconds after I hit send. Again he smiles, showing teeth this time. His boxers come off next. He’s hard, his dick pointing at the ceiling. The head rests right above his belly button. My breaths become shallow as I watch him stand there. He doesn’t do anything. Just stands like a statue, holding his phone and watching my window.
Touch yourself, I respond.
After a quick glance at his phone again, he starts to slowly stroke his already hard cock. Apparently I’m in control of this show. I like that.
Take a picture and send it to me, I say.
He holds his phone at a downward angle. The flash goes off and seconds later there’s a chirp on my phone notifying me I have a new text.
I get the photo and cover my mouth in surprise. He actually did it. And God, is it beautiful. That’s one photo that will be going in the private collection with the photos I took of him in high school when he wasn’t looking. This will definitely help when I’m alone and feeling frisky.
I suppose the polite thing to do would be to send one back to him. I’m not sure if the picture will show up in the dark, but I don’t want to turn on the light and ruin the effect. I take off my clothes, except for my bra and underwear and stand in front of the mirror and take a selfie.
With the flash on, it takes a fairly decent shot. I send it and go back to the window.
He doesn’t smile this time when he sees the text. He gets an intense look on his face and starts to stroke faster.
Slow down, I don’t want you to come yet. I tell him. This show is far too much fun to stop anytime soon.
He stops stroking all together and fondles his balls instead. It’s so sexy to see him touch himself.
I take off my bra and snap another picture to send to him. He looks at his phone again and starts to reach for his cock, but stops himself. I can see the lust-filled look and the frustration on his face from not being able to stroke himself. If he can’t even touch himself, that means he’s probably so turned on right now that he will come soon.
He lets go of his balls and types back. You’re driving me crazy.
If you’re good and do as I say, I’ll send more, I reply.
His smile is back. Yes, Ma’am.
Take a picture of you holding yourself, I tell him.
He’s a good boy and does as he’s told. I get the picture seconds later.
I take off my panties and take a full nude shot this time and send it his way. I know I’m torturing him with these pictures, but I’m torturing myself as well. I’m so turned on that I will barely need to be touched to get off. Now that I’ve had sex with Mac, masturbating seems like a sad substitute.
I throw on a l
ong t-shirt and nothing else, and slip out of my bedroom window the way I used to as a teen when I was grounded. Our house is ground-level and easy to get in and out of. I leave the window open a little so I can sneak back in. I locked the door just in case Nathan decided he wanted to talk when he gets home. This way he’ll think I just didn’t feel like talking to him. I’m not too worried about it, though. He’s not the type to want to talk right after a fight. He’s the type to let it fester and then blow up when it all gets out of control. I will never let that happen, though. I’m the type who confronts things and sticks with it until it’s all smoothed over.
I sneak over the fence into Mac’s yard. It feels like a really creepy thing to do, but I’m fairly certain he will appreciate the visit right about now. Why see things in a picture when he can see the real thing?
Open your window, I text.
I’m standing outside, just to the side of his window like a total stalker. He can’t see me from where I’m standing, and I have to admit, it’s thrilling to watch him.
He stares at his phone, a confused look on his face. I can’t help but laugh. Maybe he thinks I’m about to yell something to him. He looks up from his phone and toward my house, then opens his window.
He doesn’t startle when I appear right in front of him, but he looks surprised and starts to laugh.
“I’m way too horny to do this at a distance,” I tell him.
“This would be superhot if it didn’t remind me of every horror vampire movie I’ve ever seen,” he says with a chuckle.
“That might actually work in this scenario, because I’m about to suck you dry.”
His eyes widen. “By all means, come inside.”
He reaches toward me and helps me in through his window.
My shirt is damp from the drizzle outside. It clings to my skin and makes it obvious I have nothing underneath. “Naked looks good on you,” he says in a deep voice, and traces my curves with his hands until he reaches the hem of my shirt and slowly lifts it off of me.
“You too,” I tell him.
