by Penny Wylder
The truth is I'm the reason he's been so off. Me.
And now with the baby, I can only imagine it's going to get worse. The longer this baby is kept a secret, the harder it's going to be to tell her. Why wait? Why drag it out any longer than it needs to be?
This is the time to tell her. It's the perfect moment.
I have to tell her. She should know the truth.
“Sandy,” I say, the tone in my voice enough to hold her attention. “It's not this company that's distracting him. . .” I pause, letting the words I'm about to use sit on the tip of my tongue.
Her brows dip, her lids squint, and her head tilts a hair into her shoulder. “Then what is it?”
“It's me. I'm the reason he's been distant.”
“You?”
I nod, twisting to lean back against the sink. “Yeah, and there's more.”
“More?” crossing her arms, she kicks out a foot.
Nodding, I pull on my lip as I say, “I just found out I'm pregnant.”
Sandy's jaw jets to the side, her lids lowering. “Pregnant. . . By who?”
“By your brother.” Cringing, I wait for her to scream or yell or throw something across the room. I cover my stomach, instinctively trying to protect the baby inside.
Her mouth hangs open, and she stares at me. “Does he know?” Her gaze shifts to my belly briefly, noticing the motion, and then back up.
“He does now. I just told him.”
“Wow. So that's what was going on when I walked in.” Sandy wraps her arms around her ribs, and mimics the way I'm standing. “And you're sure it's his?” She veers her stare, and it's almost accusatory in nature.
“Yes,” I say sternly. “It's his, it's definitely his. There's no doubt about that.”
There's a long silence between us. I don't know what else to say to her. I'm waiting for her to give me more, to tell me what she feels or thinks. Shit, maybe she'll actually smile and be excited.
She is going to be an aunt. There's excitement in that, even for her, I hope.
Sandy smiles through thin lips, then turns her face forward. “Thanks for being honest with me, Dalia.” She lets out a heavy breath, twisting toward me and reaching out for my arm. “I really do appreciate you telling me the truth, I feel so much better.”
Taking a step closer, Sandy gives me a hug. She throws her arms around my neck, hugging me hard. “I'm so excited, I'm going to be an aunt.” Nuzzling her cheek against mine, she grabs my arms and leans back. “But, I need you to do me a huge favor.”
“All right, what is it?”
“I need you to stay away from him for a bit.” Her smile gets bigger as her hands dig into my biceps. “Please, please, please, don't distract him. I need Lyle on top of his game, and if he's distracted, well—it could be bad for all of us. Can you do that for me? Can you just let him work while he's at the office? It's just for a little while, okay? Until this campaign is done.” Sandy bats her lashes and grins with all her white teeth.
“How—”
“Please, Dalia,” she says, cutting me off. “Please make sure he only focuses on work here.”
“Sandy, I can try, but I can't promise you anything. I mean, we're having a baby now, he—”
“He—” she snaps, cutting me off, her expression no longer hopeful, but demanding. “He was perfectly fine until you came along. This mess is all your fault. If this company goes down because of you and this fucking. . .” her mouth folds down as she circles my womb with a finger in the air— “disaster, I'll burn you to the ground. No one within fifty miles will ever hire you.” She takes a step in, bringing her face so close to mine I can smell her breath. “Understand?”
“Okay,” I agree quickly, just wanting her to get the hell away from me. “I'll stay away from him.”
“Thanks, Dalia, thank you so much.” Sandy hugs me again, her body language instantly relaxes, and her smile returns as if she didn't just threaten me. “This company needs Lyle. We can't have him half here, we need him all here.”
“I get it,” I say, pushing out of the hug.
She walks out of the bathroom with an extra skip in her step. I'm not sure how I'm going to stay away from him, but Sandy is unstable. She's fucking psychotic. I have to protect this baby, even if that means staying away from its father for now.
There are two worlds here, and they need to stay separate.
Our world, and her world.
I just hope I can keep our world safe.
10
Lyle
She's having my baby.
My baby.
The thought makes my dick hard. I love the idea of her carrying my child. I love the fact that a part of me is living inside her. It does something to me, it turns me from man to animal, making me feel wicked.
Dalia is mine.
Simple as that. No other man can touch her. No other man has claim over her. And no other man ever will. This baby makes her my queen, and I'm her fucking king.
I suppose someone else might be more nervous or concerned. And I probably should be, too. A child is life changing. I don't know how my family is going to react or what my sister will say.
But I realize I don't give a shit. It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks. I'm going to be a father, and no one is going to take that from me. It's joyous, it's exciting, and if they can't see it, if they can't enjoy this new life too, then that's too fucking bad.
Where is she anyway? I haven't seen her yet today.
Buzzing my secretary, she answers my call. “Send Dalia in for me, please.”
“Of course, Mr. Vox.”
A few minutes pass, then there's a knock on my door.
“Come in,” I call out.
Dalia opens the door slowly and pokes her head inside. “You wanted to see me?”
“Wanted to see you? Of course I wanted to see you. You say it like you're surprised.” Sitting up, I wave her inside. “Close the door.” She does as I ask, but she looks so fucking timid, almost like she's afraid of me.
Standing up, I walk to her side, and give her a hug. “I missed you. How's my baby doing today?” I reach out to touch her stomach, my fingertips barely grazing her.
Except, she doesn't hug back. Her arms dangle at her sides, stiff as branches. “Good I guess. I don't feel much of anything right now.” She brushes my hand away, trying to make it unnoticeable as she wraps her hands around her sides.
But I notice. I notice the distance. I notice the reserve. I noticed it the second she walked in here.
Taking a step back, I put some sapce between us so I can really study her face. I flick my eyes between hers, trying to read her mind. Something isn't right.
“Are you okay?” I ask. “You don't seem happy to see me. You don't seem happy at all.”
Jerking her body away, she wraps her arms even tighter around her ribs, and hugs herself nervously. “I'm fine, why?”
Shaking my head, my jaw cocks to the side. “I don't know, I guess I just expected to see the same look in your eye today as yesterday. You were so happy, especially after. . .” Grinning, I rock my head on my shoulders. “I fucked you on my desk.”
“I'm sorry I'm not what you expected, but I don't really know what else to say.”
What is going on with her? This isn't who she was when she told me about our baby, and she saw how excited I was about it.
Taking a step back, I give her the space she seems to want. This is probably a lot more for her to comprehend, it's her body. My voice is flat, emotionless. I don't want her to think I'm mad or sad, I don't want to give her anything.
I want everything from her.
Her thoughts. Her feelings. Her fucking heart in my hands.
Everything I thought I already had.
“Are you not feeling good today? Any morning sickness?”
She shrugs a shoulder, not letting her eyes directly hit mine. “Maybe a little, but I'm fine, really. Don't worry, I won't throw up in your office.”
“That's good.�
� I walk to the window, and look outside briefly, then walk back to her. “Do you know why I called you in here?”
“You haven't told me yet, so no.”
What the hell is going on with her? Why is she being this way?
“Because I wanted to see you. Didn't you want to see me? I tried to call you last night, you didn't answer. I sent you messages and they went unanswered. I don't understand why. I figured you'd want to discuss the baby and what we're going to do.”
“What we're going to do?” she asks, her brows dropping.
“Yeah, you know, where we're going to live, maybe names for the baby, how we're going to tell everyone. That type of stuff.”
“We're still co-workers, Lyle. Don't you think we should maybe keep it low key for now? What will everyone else think?” she asks, her head angling down as she looks up at me under hooded eyes.
Dalia nibbles on her lip, and fuck if that little movement doesn't make me just want to tear off all her clothes and fuck her right here.
Something's wrong, and I need to know what it is.
I take a wide step and start circling her like a shark. “Is there another reason?”
“Like what?”
“I don't know, that's why I'm asking. Are you ashamed? Having regrets?”
“Why would you ask me that?” I'm standing behind her, and she glances back at me over her shoulder. “Do I look ashamed?”
“That question's for you, not for me, so don't turn it around.” Stepping up close, I wrap my hands around her waist, and nuzzle my face into her back. “You smell amazing,” I say, closing my eyes as I inhale deeply.
Dalia holds her breath, I feel her chest freeze, and her skin go cold. Taking a long step forward, she twists around quickly. “What do you want me to say, Lyle? I'm still trying to process all this, just like you. This isn't easy for either of us, it's a lot to take in.”
“No, not for me. I know what I want, I don't need to think a second more about it.”
Boxing her in, I trap her between the desk and myself. She has nowhere to go. My arms are out, creating a wall I'll never let her pass.
I want answers. These half answers aren't working for me.
Dalia takes another step back, stretching her arms behind her. She doesn't look scared of me, and she shouldn't be, but I do want something from her. And I'm not letting her go until I get it.
I want to see her smile; I want to see her excited just like I am for this baby she's carrying. I want to know she wants me just as badly as I want her.
I take another long step forward, forcing her back until she can't take any more steps. She's leaning against my desk, her fingers gripping the edge so hard her knuckles are white.
“I don't like this, Dalia, I don't like this at all. Something's different. You're stiff, cold. . . The light is gone. It's like you're trying to pretend none of this real.”
“I don't know what you mean, Lyle. I'm just trying to do my work, that's it.”
“That's it?” I ask, gripping her shoulder and spinning her to face my desk. Using an open palm, I push between her shoulder blades, forcing her to lean forward.
She doesn't fight me, she doesn't deny me. Dalia inhales an audible breath. That little noise, the way her throat stretches and the muscles in her neck tense, it makes my blood warm and my dick hard.
“Yes, that's it.” Her voice is all air as her head rolls from one shoulder to the next.
Lowering my face to her ear, I watch goosebumps erupt down her skin with a shiver that zips through my fingertips. Biting the shell of her ear, I drag the sharp edges of my teeth down the curve. “You're not a good liar, Dalia, you never have been. There's more to this little game you're playing, and I'm going to prove it.”
Her back arches hard, forcing her ass against my dick. My heart is racing, and the blood is rushing from my brain to fill my shaft. I'm hard as rock and my cock swells and throbs with my pulse.
“There's nothing to prove, Lyle.” Her voice is a gust of air as she looks back at me over her shoulder. Her lids are half open, lips wet and dewy as she licks them. She's rubbing her ass up and down, her body in charge, and refusing to take any orders from her brain.
This game isn't new, it's one we've played before. I'm the cat, she's the mouse. Only this time, this little mouse wants to get eaten.
Running a devastatingly slow hand up her spine, her back bows, and her eyes snap shut. “There's always something to prove, Dalia.” Jerking my hips, I make sure she feels my cock. “Always.”
She lets out a soft groan as I wrap one hand around the back of her neck, and grip her ass with the other. She's mine now. All of her. And she's loving every touch, every word, everything about this moment.
This power, this power is everything.
Pushing her down further so her tits hit the top of my desk, her arms splay out, causing a few items to crash to the floor. I ignore it, but Dalia doesn't. Dalia's eyes follow one of the picture frames, she studies it for a single second. It's a fleeting glance, but it must settle inside her uncomfortably.
Throwing her body upright, she shoves me off her, and runs her hands over her head, brushing her hair back with her fingers. “I really should get back to work.” She smiles meekly, bolting for the door and disappearing before I can do anything to stop her.
What the fuck just happened? What was that?
Stroking my jaw, I stare at the open door. She's gone. She left so quickly it's almost like she was never even here.
Walking around to the side of my desk, I pick up the picture. It's the one of me and Sandy at our graduation. Wiping the glass surface, I set it back and drop into my seat. I blankly stare at the image, running a single finger across the top of the frame.
“Knock, knock.” I lift my head and see Sandy in the doorway. “Can I come in?”
Rolling a hand in the air, I sink lower into my chair. “Come on in. Not that you really need my permission anyway.”
Her hands fall to her sides as she strolls in slowly. One foot in front of the other, toe to heel, toe to heel, stopping at a picture of me back in high school. I'm in my football uniform, huge smile on my face, not a care in the world.
I miss those days. The ones where the only problems had to do with who liked you and what brand of clothes you had.
Sandy smiles, taking it off the wall to hold it. “You remember this day?” she asks, pointing down at it. I nod, because of course I do. It's my picture. “You were so happy to win that game. It was your first—”
“My first time as lead quarterback, yeah, I remember, Sandy.”
“Geeze, what's gotten into you?” She sets the picture down and comes to sit right on the edge of my desk. Cupping her hands in her lap, she smiles as she asks, “What's wrong?”
Twisting in my chair, I turn to face her. “I. . .” I'm about to tell her but change my mind. “It's nothing, forget it.”
“No, really, you can tell me, Lyle. Does it have to do with Dalia?”
Flicking my eyes up to hers, I watch her for a moment to see if she's actually listening or if this is another one of her listening acts. Frowning, I nod, and rest my hand on my chin.
“Lyle, Lyle, Lyle, when are you going to learn?” Sandy asks with a smile. “That girl has always had a way of screwing with you, even when we were younger. You were always just too thick headed to see it.”
“So you do remember who she is?”
“Of course I remember who she is, I've hated her since the first time I met her.” She laughs like there's a joke in there somewhere. I don't laugh, and she notices. “Come on, Lyle. . .” She lets my name linger in the air as she stands up from the desk and moves behind me.
Her hands slide over my shoulders and she starts to massage deep into the muscle. “You're so tense, you need to relax.” She works her fingertips, moving them down my back. They slip back up, and she rolls them over the front to my chest. “I can help you relax, Lyle, I can make you feel so good.” Her hands keep moving lower and lower as I feel
her lips feather across the back of my neck.
Launching from my seat, I throw my arms up to swipe her off me like a spider. “What the fuck, Sandy! What the hell are you doing?!”
“What? What's wrong?” She has a look of confusion on her face, like she really has no idea what I'm referring to.
“What's wrong? You're not seriously asking me that.” My tone is hard and loud, unable to hide the disgust I feel right now. Shaking my shoulders, I try to kick this feeling off me. I feel like there's still something crawling on me. “This is wrong! You are wrong! What the hell are you thinking?”
“Oh come on, Lyle.” She takes a step forward, attempting to reach for me. “After all this time, you still haven't realized it yet?”
“Realized what?”
“Realized that the perfect girl has always been here for you.”
Oh no. No fucking way! No way in hell!
Jerking my arm out of her reach, I glare at her. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You're my sister—my fucking sister, Sandy.” Crooking my jaw, I shake my head. “That's fucking gross.”
“It's not gross, Lyle, it's perfect. We're twins, we have a connection. The connection between us is stronger than anything you could ever build with someone else. I've been here the whole time; you've just been too blind to see it.”
“Get out,” I demand, pointing my finger at the door. “Get the fuck out of here!”
“Lyle,” she says, attempting to come closer. “Just think about it, think about it and you'll see what I see. We were made for each other.”
“Get the fuck out, Sandy! I don't want to see you! Go!” The anger I feel is brutal. I can't even believe she's coming at me like this.
Her eyes pop open wide, nostrils flaring in anger and rejection. Dropping her head, she storms past me, not saying another word, and running out the door. And I'm happy to see her go.
Sandy is looking for something I'll never give her.
Not now.
Not ever.
11
Dalia
