“Shh!” I press a finger to my own lips, giggling and feeling the heat and the booze roaring though my face as I grin at Oliver. “Our parents are asleep!”
He rolls his eyes and snorts, “What are we, twelve?”
“I’m just saying-”
“Yeah?” He grins and spanks my ass as I step towards the staircase, making me giggle as I scamper up to our floor.
I feel free, and wild, and unhinged after our night on the town; ready for anything.
But I also know when it’s time to call it. I know when things are dangerously close to going further than they should.
At the top of the stairs, I step into the bathroom and start to close the door, when suddenly Oliver’s foot is in the way. I look up quickly, “What are you doing?”
He only grins, arching his eyebrows at me.
“Um, Oliver, I need to shower.”
“Hey, interesting, me too,” He says with a smirk, sliding into the bathroom with me and closing the door behind him. He winks at me before he starts to strip his shirt off. I bite my lip, seeing that chest carved out of fucking marble, those tattoos inked across his chest and shoulders.
I know when it’s dangerously close to going further than it should.
A shirtless Oliver, in an enclosed space, when it’s late and I’m slightly drunk, and still way more than slightly turned on from earlier?
Yeah, that would be the definition of that aforementioned “dangerously close to going further than it should” scenario.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I breathe, swallowing heavily and quickly forcing my eyes up to his face.
“I told you, showering.” He shrugs, as if this is totally normal as he brushes past me to crank the water on. He turns and when his eyes meet mine, I can feel my pulse jump, “You joining or not?”
“With you?”
He winks, “It’s just a shower, luv.”
I swear, that’s what he says; like either of us remotely believes this is just something innocent as the steam starts to swirl around us.
“Well?” He grins at me.
“Well what?”
“Do you plan on showering dressed?”
I shoot him a look, “Oliver-”
“Yes?”
“Our parents? Right downstairs?”
He looks at me with mock indignation and shock, “Why, Chloe! I don’t know what you’re implying!” He winks at me as he turns to check the water temperature.
I bite my lip. I should go; I should definitely, definitely go.
So why am I still standing here when he unhooks his belt and drops his pants? And why am I still not leaving when he steps close to me, and brings his hand up to my blouse.
I take a shaky breath, looking up at him, “And just who do you think I am, one of your girls?”
I say it with sass, like it’s meant to be a barb or something. But really, that’s the opposite of how I feel. Because tonight, I want to be one of “his girls”. I want to feel what he makes them feel, and after the taste from earlier and now with the beer and the desire coursing through me, I want more. I know his reputation, and I know every reason why this is so wrong.
But as the steam swirls around us and I let my eyes trace down every chiseled line of his body down to the thick bulge in his shorts…
I just don’t care.
I don’t care, and I want it all.
I don’t say a thing, but it’s as if he knows I’m saying yes just by the way my face flushes, or by the way my chest rises with my breath. He doesn’t say a thing either as he starts to pull at my blouse, undoing one button at a time.
And I let him.
“Take that off,” he says quietly, nodding at my bra as he turns to adjust the water temperature one last time.
I roll my eyes at him; “I’ve told you you’re bossy, righ-”
“Shh, gotta be quiet, Chloe,” he says, grinning wolfishly at me as he points a finger downstairs.
I let my bra fall to the floor, biting my lip and watching him intently as I feel his eyes slide over my breasts.
“Do you always shower in a skirt?”
He knows damn well I’m naked underneath it. He knows because he’s the one who tore my panties off.
“You first.”
Oliver grins as he hooks his thumbs into his shorts, and I literally gasp out loud as he shucks them off.
Jesus he’s big. Like, seriously big. I’m trying not to, but of course he catches me staring at it and just smirks. Yeah, our parents are right downstairs and here I am staring at Oliver’s cock as we get ready to shower to together.
My sensibilities have officially left the building.
He opens the shower door gestures with a hand, as if he’s some sort of gentleman helping a lady.
As if there’s anything “gentlemanly” about Oliver Beckett, despite that deceptively charming smile and accent.
As if there’s anything ladylike about doing what I’m about to do, for that matter.
I pull down the zipper at my side and let the skirt drop to pool at my feet, and then we’re standing there, face to face and totally naked.
This isn’t some dark pub bathroom, or the quiet shadows behind my mom’s garage back before. Here there’s nothing hiding us as we stare openly - hungrily - at each other’s bodies, surrounded only by the steam from the shower. And I know this is wrong; I know this is a mistake, even if I’m standing there actually trying to rationalize it in my head. I’m literally telling myself “oh, it’s just a shower”, as if there’s anything remotely appropriate about that between two people like us.
Oliver crooks a finger at me, “It’s just a shower, luv,”
Right.
But I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of watching me back down, and before I can stop myself, or before I can roll my eyes at my own ridiculous excuse, I step past him and under the water.
It’s not a tiny shower, but it’s not big either, that much is clear when he steps in after me and I can feel his skin brush against mine. It’ teasing, but at the same time, it isn’t teasing.
“No sex,” I blurt out suddenly, my confidence dropping as I turn to look up at him. For some reason, I know right there that actual sex is pushing it; coming together like that is pushing a line we can’t push.
“Oh, I’m just here to shower,” he says with a smirk. “So sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.”
I give him a look.
“What? Two people can’t just shower together?” He grins at me as he reaches past me for the soap, his arm dangerously close to brushing my nipple, “I mean we’re basically family, Chloe.”
I wrinkle my nose, “Don’t be gross.”
His cock is rock hard between us, and I’m certainly wet from so much more than just the shower. But I’m trying so hard to ignore those facts as he just shrugs and starts to soap up. Fine; he wants to play this little tease game? Game on.
I turn, reaching for the shampoo when I suddenly gasp as I feel his body slide against my back.
“Oh, and Chloe?” He growls into my ear, his lips just teasing the skin there. I’m melting right there, biting my lip as I feel my knees go weak as his voice slides into my ear, “I think I already told you, you’re going to have to ask nicely for that.”
“You wish,” I whisper, biting my lip to stop the moan. I let the weight of his body press me forward, until I’m up against the clear shower wall, facing the mirror across the bathroom. The shower is made of that fancy plexiglass that doesn’t fog up, and I feel my breath catch at the sight of my breasts pressed against the glass with Oliver right behind me in the reflection in the mirror. His cock is throbbing and hard and hot, nestled in the cleft of my ass, and his hands come up soapy to slide over my skin, up my sides, grazing the sides of my breasts.
“Just a shower, hmm?” I whisper, gasping as his strong, slippery hands explore my sensitive skin.
“Mhmm,” he growls into my neck, his cock throbbing against my ass; “Can’t let you
miss any spots. Weren’t you ever taught to wash behind your ears?”
I bite my lip, watching the reflection of the girl in the mirror who looks like she’s about to melt into a puddle. I see her bite her lip again as the hands of the man behind her slide over her breasts, rolling her nipples between his fingers.
“Those aren’t my ears,” I whisper quietly, my breath coming in gasps as his soapy fingers tease over the hard buds of my nipples.
“How clumsy of me,” he husks, biting at my earlobe as he lets one hand drift down over my stomach, down to my hip. His hand slowly delves between my legs, and I’m whimpering as I open them for him, letting him touch me there. I shiver when his fingers slide right between my lips, brushing over my clit just like he did hours ago in the pub. And just like that, as if I’ve been put on pause, I’m right back to where I was then; right back to gasping and feeling like I’m on the edge of exploding under his touch.
Oliver nudges his hips forward, and I gasp as I feel the throbbing head of his cock trail down the cleft of my ass and slide against the slick lips of my pussy.
“You’re so fucking wet for me, I can feel it,” He growls into my ear, his fingers rubbing slow circles around my clit. “You know, you could save yourself a whole lot of wondering if you’d just ask me nicely for it.”
“Wondering?” I breathe.
Oliver chuckles into my ear, the sound vibrating through my whole body and making me shiver against him, “Sweetheart, I’m willing to bet you’ve never been fucked the way we both know you need to be.”
Fuck.
I can’t contain the whimper that tumbles from my mouth as I feel him spread my lips with his fingers and slide his thick cock across my clit.
“You’ve just gotta ask me nicely, luv,” he whispers, his teeth dragging across my earlobe and making me moan as he slowly rubs the head of his cock across my aching clit. “Let me just hear one little ‘yes, chef’,” he growls, rocking his hips harder against me. “Beg me to fuck you, Chloe,” he says darkly in my ear, his cock sawing back and forth across my clit and my lips, the shaft slippery with my arousal.
I grit my teeth against the waves of the pleasure rolling through me, my pulse roaring in my ears. I want it. I want it so badly, I can practically feel the words forming on my lips. But I clench them shut, slowly shaking my head.
No; I will not be begging Oliver Beckett for anything. As much as I want everything he has to give. I shake my head, “Mm-mm, no,” I swallow heavily, forcing myself to breathe. “There will be no begging and no fucking.”
“That a fact, hmm?” He husks, grunting as the head of his thick cock bumps over my clit again, making us both gasp. My legs are spread for him, my hands and my cheek flat against the glass of the shower stall. I look down, whimpering as I see the head of him push across my pussy and jut out from between my legs, his fingers teasing my clit. He rocks his hips forward again, and this time I cry out as I feel my pussy slide across his shaft.
Oliver grunts, his thrusting getting faster and faster as I feel my whole body start to melt around me as his cock against my clit starts to drive me right over the edge, “You better shut that mouth, sweetheart.”
I gasp out loud, moaning as I feel myself start to clench up, “I- oh God, I can’t help it!” I whisper out.
His hand is suddenly at my mouth; his finger slipping between my lips.
“Suck,” he growls in my ear. I shiver and moan, feeling raw sexual heat pouring through me. And before I can toss something sassy or barbed back his way, I’m opening my mouth, and wrapping my lips around his finger.
His cock is rubbing against my pussy so perfectly, and the way he’s slipping his finger in and out of my lips is like another cock. I moan deeply as I suck his finger, licking and sucking at it as if I’m on my knees worshiping his cock with my mouth. I feel my whole body start to let go. It’s so fucking wrong, and so dirty, like he’s fucking me at both ends at the same time, even if he’s not inside of me.
I start to whimper, pumping my hips back against him, pushing my ass back into his rock-hard abs as I feel my whole body begin to shatter in the steam of the shower stall.
Oliver’s fingers press my clit against the delirious motions of his cock sawing between my lips, and suddenly he leans forward and sucks my earlobe between his teeth.
“Come for me, Chloe; I want to feel that tight little pussy come all over my cock.”
And then I just let go.
I wonder later if I draw blood at how hard I bite down on his finger to silence my screams, but at the time, all I know is blinding white light and heat exploding through my body. Suddenly, hours of torturous teasing, hours of running around town with Oliver without any panties, and hours of dying to feel him again after he had me so close before come crashing to a crescendo.
I’m clawing at the shower door as I come, shuddering against him and feeling his powerful arms holding me upright. Oliver roars, and I feel his body go rigid behind me. I can feel him pulsing against my pussy, and I moan as I look down to see his come spraying from the head of him between my legs against the shower door.
We’re silent for a moment, both of us panting as we lean against the glass of the shower door, before I turn in his arms and smirk at him, “Who’s loud now?”
He grins, “Challenge accepted.”
“Oy, you look like shit.”
I’m bleary-eyed as I frown at Marco while he shakes his head at me. Any other day and I’d tear him a new asshole, but today, I just don’t have the energy.
Well, that and I know he’s right. Chloe and I are on about three hours of sleep after last night, which is red-lining it even for me. Of course, I tried to push it after the fun in the shower by following her back into her room, but she’d pushed me back towards the door. “Out,” she’d said, shaking her head. “Not while they’re home, Oliver.”
Like my dad ever comes up to my floor, but I’ll grant her that worry. It’d be just my luck for the one day ever that my old man comes upstairs in the morning to be the day I’m in bed with his fiancé’s daughter.
So yeah, it’s going to be absolute murder getting through the shift tonight. But hey, if I do look like shit after the night I had with Chloe?
Totally worth it.
I blink and rub my eyes before nodding at Marco instead of giving him a dish of authority, “Yeah, late night, mate.”
“Where’d you run off to after the pub? You buggered out right when your sister did.”
“Stepsister,” I add, clearing my throat and trying not to grin too much at his mentioning buggered.
“Yeah she was feeling sad and shit,” I shrug. “Dunno, mate, probably the move and all that.”
Marco nods, “Well, sad or not, she left me all high and dry when she ditched. I mean I know she’s your sis- stepsister or whatever, mate, but the stems on that one? Shit, bruv,” he says with a whistle and some sort of pantomimed thrusting motion with his hips.
I can feel my fist clench at my side, my jaw tightening as I narrow my eyes at him. This is one of my oldest mates in the world, going back to when we were kids tearing it up around the old block, and yet I’m suddenly wanting to pound his fucking face in for just thinking about Chloe like that.
Cool it, I mentally growl to myself. Can’t very well go around murdering friends for expressing an interest in a girl I can’t very well say I’m into.
Marco shrugs, oblivious to how close he just came to getting my fist in his teeth, “Anyways, not a total loss; got my knob polished by that new waitress.”
I smirk and raise a brow, “Delia?”
He laughs, “I wish, brother. Nah, the other one; Jill.”
“Not bad.”
“Yeah it was alright,” he glances at the prep sheet in his hands. “Fuck me,” he groans.
“Full book out front tonight, get your game face on.”
He grins, “Says the bloke who looks like he slept in the fuckin gutter.” He eyes me suspiciously, “Okay, please tell me you at least ha
d a bit of luck last night after you dropped Chloe home.”
You have no fucking idea, my friend.
I shrug and say nothing, and Marco grins. “Atta boy!” He shakes his head, “Fuckin hell, must be nice to be restaurant royalty.”
Chloe steps into the kitchen. Chloe who looks as tired as me. Chloe who’s ignored me at breakfast and caught her own ride to work while I was upstairs getting ready.
Yeah, mate, it’s fuckin’ lovely at the top.
Cockney: A Stepbrother Romance Page 11
