by Sierra Hill
The memory of that kiss and the way she looked at me afterwards – as if I’d hung the stars just for her - has me wanting to lay her out on this table and devour her just like I did with the food on my plate.
“I’ll help CC with dessert,” I say in a gusty breath, standing in a rush as all eyes land on me.
Mrs. Sundstrom gestures with a wave for me to sit back down.
“Nonsense, Jase. You’re our guest and that’s not needed.”
But I shake my head and follow in the direction CC went, finding her at the kitchen counter with her back to me.
The door swings closed on its hinges, the squeak of it alerting her to my presence.
This may be the only chance I get to be alone with her. To tell her how much I’ve missed her. They way I’ve always felt about her. How I only realized it once I was gone and it was too late. My tongue is inconveniently tied up in knots as I stand frozen in the middle of the galley like a deer in headlights. Thankfully, she’s bold enough to address the elephant in the room.
“You kissed me and then left me, Jase.” She turns suddenly, wielding a very large knife, dripping bits of pumpkin pie on the floor as she pivots toward me. “Do you know what that does to a teenage girl’s psyche?”
A gurgle of laughter lodges in my throat over the contrast of the serious tone in her voice versus the dollop of whip cream on the end of her nose. Cute but deadly. Taking a cautious step forward, I hold my arms up in surrender, employing a tactic I learned in my time in service. When in any sort of standoff, physical or otherwise, the trick is to make your opponent feel comfortable before you strike.
“You can murder me with that if you want, Cecelia. And I probably deserve your wrath. But with a room full of witnesses out there, you might not get away with it.” I lift an amused brow and motion my head toward the doorway.
As if it finally dawns on her, she tracks my gaze with bewildered eyes to the knife in her hand. She covers her gaping mouth with the other hand and shakes her head. Turning, she places it down behind her and drops her forehead into her palm.
Her laugh is a startled chuckle. “Oh my God, you must think I’m batshit crazy.”
It’s been a long while since I’ve last seen or been near Cecelia, but I’d never think that. My feet blindly move toward her on their own accord and I’m suddenly surrounded by the botanical scent of her skin. A little floral with some pumpkin spice sprinkled in for good measure. My entire body is hungry for her.
I continue my slow momentum until my face is inches from hers. I cage her in with my arms bracing me against the counter. The heat of her body magically penetrates mine through layers of clothing, burning me up like I’m in the oven set on bake.
She won’t meet my gaze, but bites down on her lip with uncertainty. Her pulse point at the base of her neck thrums and thumps, and I want to bend down to suck on it. Lick her soft, sultry skin and inhale her delicious scent.
I stop myself from doing any of that but do duck my head to her ear and whisper my misgivings.
“You’re not the crazy one, here, Cecelia. I am. I’m crazy for ever leaving you without an explanation. I’ve always had a thing for you.”
Her breathy gasp has my smile broadening, knowing I’m getting through to her and that maybe she might have similar feelings.
“Wh-what do you mean?”
Encroaching on her space even further, I tilt my hips so my erection connects with the heat of her center, covered only by a gauzy skirt, pinning her with my body against the granite.
“That kiss we shared…it’s the best damn thing I’ve ever had. I’ve never forgotten the feel of your lips. Or your taste…goddamn, CC. You had me whipped up so hard and you didn’t know it. I want it again. Right now.”
Pulling back so I can see her face, my head bent, I dart my tongue out to flick the sweet cream on the end of her pert nose. It gives me so many suggestive ideas I let out a groan.
I’m just about to go in for my second helping to reenact that kiss we shared when the door swings open and Chris pushes his way into the kitchen, his back toward us, carrying an armful of dishes.
Although I’m able to step back to provide an appropriate modicum of space, I still feel the weight of CC’s breasts where they pressed against my chest. I place my hand over the spot in the wake of the loss.
Chris turns and shoves the plates in my hands.
“Hurry up and get dessert served. We’re going bowling!”
Bowling. Shit, I forgot.
It’s our family’s annual Thanksgiving tradition and something we’ve done every year since I was a young kid. It’s normally something I’m excited about, loving the friendly competition and festive mood.
But right now, after that hot encounter with Jase, it’s the furthest thing from my mind. Not when my entire body is jumbled up and wanting what he was offering me. Hungry for that kiss he was just about to give me before my brother so rudely interrupted.
I shake off my lustful thoughts and think fast. How can I get us out of this? What can I say that will keep me home alone with Jase? Because that rocket in his pants was not my imagination and my teenage dreams deserve to be played out. Just this once.
I rub an invisible spot on my temple, grimacing a little for added affect. “You know, I feel a migraine coming on. Probably from all the carb overload. Maybe I can stay back and clean up the kitchen and then lay down for a bit. I can catch up with you guys later.”
My eyes dart between Chris and then Jase, who I hope catches on to my lie and jumps in to play his part.
Rubbing a hand over his belly – which by the way, I can see shifting underneath his movements, like a rolling inchworm over ridged landscape – he shakes his head.
“Ah man. I think the tryptophan has gotten me, too. And since I have a pretty bad case of jetlag from my trip, I think some shut eye will due me some good. How about I stay and help you clean up, Cecelia? Then we can both rest up and head to the bowling alley later.”
Chris gives a growl of disapproval, trying to figure out what’s going on and whether he should believe us or not.
“Dude,” my brother laments, clearly not good with this change of plans. He places the dishes in the sink and lays a thick hand on Jase’s shoulder. “You don’t have to help clean up, bro. But I get you might need some rest. That’s cool, man. I’ll tell my folks.”
Jase’s eyes find mine as my brother loads up his hands with plates of pie, a guilty look of collusion shared between us.
My brother turns his head back to address Jase. “Feel free to take my old bedroom, man. That bed is still super comfy. And you, little sister…”
Chris wags a finger at me as I open one of the cupboards to extract the biggest bottle of Aleve I’ve ever seen.
“I hope you feel better. I want you to have fun tonight.”
Oh, I think there’s a good chance of that.
I nearly choke as I pretend to go through the motion of opening the bottle of pills I don’t really need, and watch Chris walk out the door. All the while my body reacting to the thrill that Jase and I are about to do something very naughty and very clandestine.
It’s another agonizing thirty minutes before everyone’s done with their desserts and are bundled up for their trek to the local lanes.
When the last person is out the front door and it shuts behind them, I barely have time to hit the Start button on the dishwasher when Jase pounces, the two words he says pushing my own start button.
“Bedroom, now.”
I literally stalk her up the stairs as we stop on the second-floor landing, Chris’s old bedroom is to the right down the hallway. There’s another stairway heading up to the loft where CC’s room has always been.
CC grabs my hand to pull me toward Chris’s room, but I stop her, shaking my head and lifting my eyes toward her bedroom.
“I spent a lot of time in Chris’s room when I was in high school fantasizing about you up in your room. That’s where I want you.” I wiggle my eyebrows sugges
tively, earning a blush from her already flushed, pink cheeks.
One of my most vivid fantasies I had of CC when I was a teen was me quietly leaving Chris’s bedroom in the middle of the night and treading up the stairs to her room. I’d open the door to find her lying in her bed wearing nothing but a slip of a nightgown. I’d walk to the edge of her bed in my bare feet, my cock protruding from my waistband, aching to be touched by her.
She’d sit up, shredding the blankets from her lap, and scoot to the end of the bed. Her fingers would reach out to grasp at my hard flesh, pulling the material down so I could spring free. I’d slide the edge of her nightie’s silky material up to her waist, exposing the bare skin of her creamy thighs, my knuckles skimming all that softness. Her moan skittering around the room.
Bunching the nightie in my fist, I’d find her without panties and I’d bury my nose in the scent of her arousal suffusing my nostrils. My finger would find the wet center of her pussy and I’d bring her to a beautiful orgasm.
“What are you thinking about right now?” CC asks, jarring me from my dirty and probably criminal thoughts of teenage Cecelia.
She lays down on her bed, wiggling out of her shirt, staring up at me with a sexy smile alighting her face. Holy shit, this is so much better than any fantasy I could ever conjure up inside my filthy brain.
My finger circles her belly button as she lifts her hips in what looks like some kind of yoga move. One called “fuck me now and don’t stop ‘til I drop from exhaustion.”
The corner of my mouth quirks up as I drag my fingers down the flat of her belly. I’ve already divested my uniform and am left in my dress pants and t-shirt. When I reach the top of her skirt, I make like I’m about to pull it down, but instead, push all the filmy material up so it bunches around her waist.
“I was thinking about you as a teenager. How I had fantasies about fucking you right here in this very bed. Taking your virginity as you screamed my name so loud it woke up everyone in the house.”
“Oh my God, Jase,” she moans, the sound zinging right to my dick, which is already hard as a fucking rock. “Why didn’t you ever say anything? I would’ve…”
CC shyly turns her head, as if embarrassed for asking and covers her face with an arm. It doesn’t hide the flush across her chest and neck. Cute and sexy.
I hover over her, my hands on either side of her head, our mouths nearly touching, the heat of her body radiating through mine.
Cupping her chin, I turn her face to me, nudging her arm so it falls to her side. My tongue darts out and runs across the seam of her lips, the puff of her gasp fanning out between us.
“You would’ve what, Cecelia? You would’ve let me do this to you?”
I kiss her. Hard. With all the desire I’ve saved for years and years and years.
Our mouths connect with consuming need. I slant my mouth and the opening she leaves allows my tongue to sweep in, rolling and exploring; claiming what I’ve wanted again for so long.
When our mouths part, she’s panting laboriously and my erection throbs in the juncture between her thighs. It wants in. It wants what it couldn’t have all those years ago.
We kiss some more, each time our lips touch, the more frenzied we become. My hand caresses the softness along the inside of her thighs, as I nudge her legs open and find her wet center.
I skim the edge of her panties with my fingertips, relishing in the tiny gasps she makes every time I run it over her center. Just like my fantasy.
“Tell me, Ceece. What would’ve you have let me do you?”
Her eyebrows furrow as I pull away, as if she’s suddenly remembering where we are and what we’re doing. Like she’s coming to from a deep, fevered dream.
“I would’ve given you everything, Jase. Every. Single. Thing.”
I collapse on top of her, my face in the crook of her neck and I bite the sweet flesh of her collarbone. My groan is pained and raw, as if she’s carved me open like the way the turkey was sliced at dinner.
CC turns into me, wrapping a leg around my waist so I’m pressed into her warmth, my cock growing savagely hungry to be inside that sweet center. Her fingers plunge into my hair and she lifts my face to hers.
“We had a false start with our first kiss, Jase. It wasn’t our time back then, even though my teenage heart wanted it so much. But if you want it now, I’m all yours. You can have all of me.”
Fuuuuuuck, yes.
I try to remember the reasons I walked away from CC the first time.
Sure, we were young, and I was heading to bootcamp and then likely shipped off overseas. My life would’ve been at risk and leaving behind a high school girl with a long-distance relationship between us would have been a recipe for disaster.
And then there was Chris – my best friend and her brother. I wasn’t about to tell him back then that I had a thing for his sister. No fucking way.
But none of that matters any longer. Cecelia is an adult and able to make her own decisions. All my previous excuses are moot points and I’m about to make her mine.
CC’s lips part again and she’s softly stroking my hair, murmuring sweet and dirty things into my ear. A different and new kind of energy unfolds and buzzes between us. As if the walls of the past have disintegrated and all that’s left is the fascination of what’s to come.
Her heel digs into my ass as I rock my hips into her, establishing friction and ownership. Both of us saying without words, this is mine. My fingers graze the underside of her breast, as I gently brush the tip of her nipple. Her reaction is pure lust and part desperation, her fingernails digging into my scalp.
“That feels so good,” she mewls, and I pinch the tight peak with my fingers. “I hate to say it, but we don’t have a lot of time. We gotta make this count before someone comes home and finds us.”
I chuckle at the thought. “You think your parents would retract their invitation for me to come back for Christmas?”
“Pretty sure that would be the case. But I’d still let you sneak in and slide down my chimney, Santa baby.”
The innuendo is naughty, and I love that Cecelia has a dirty mind. My finger toys with the edge of her panties, rolling over the sensitive bundle of nerves just underneath the cotton panel. While I’d love to continue teasing her, she’s right. There’s no way of knowing when the family will be back, so we need to keep things moving, no matter how much I want to savor it all.
Edging underneath her panties, I slide a finger through her wet folds, enunciated by a sharp intake of CC’s breath. Reaching for the tip of her earlobe, I snap my teeth around it and bite, then soothe it with a wet glide of my tongue to mimic the movement of my finger at her clit.
Swirling and flicking, her body tenses underneath me. My finger plunges inside her snugness and she lets out a sultry acknowledgement.
“Yes. Jase, yes.”
Her walls clench around my lone finger, the slick sounds will forever be looped in my brain as the soundtrack of this holiday. I add another finger, curling it up in search of her g-spot. I want her to go off like skyrockets, send her into an orbit with such force that she’s blissed out for days.
I know I’ll be blissed out for days.
“I’m getting close, Jase,” she pants, as I increase my efforts. “I want you inside me when I come.”
She doesn’t have to ask me twice. But then it dawns on me that I don’t have a condom with me. Not exactly something I was thinking about bringing as a guest to a family holiday dinner.
I pause my movement and look around the room wide-eyed, as CC squints at me with a disconcerted look.
“What is it? Did you hear something?”
Shaking my head, I shift to the side to give myself a moment to think straight.
“Uh, I don’t have a condom with me. Do you think Chris has one hidden somewhere in his room?”
CC giggles and points her finger down. “Box underneath the bed. Hurry.”
It’s difficult, but not impossible, to move quickly with an erectio
n. But I do it with as much finesse as I can muster, jumping off the bed and dropping to my knees to scrounge around under the bed. I stall for only a second, wondering why she has protection in her bedroom, while she’s been living on a college campus for the last two years.
I root around with my arm underneath the bed skirt in search of this box. My hand hits something that resembles a shoebox and I pull it out to inspect it.
The cover is a bit dusty and is decorated with stickers and doodles. Something a high school girl would’ve created as a keepsake. Opening the lid, I find keepsakes and trinkets, folded up notes and old photos. One in particular catches my eyes and I pull it out to inspect it.
The picture is from years before. Possibly when CC was still in middle school, by the look of her metal-filled smile and hairstyle. And then I look to where her eyes and smile are aimed. CC is smiling at me in the picture, sitting on the couch between her and Chris, my arms wrapped around both of their shoulders. She’s smiling at me with an over-abundance of adolescent love. The realization punches me in the gut.
How had I never seen it before?
She clearly didn’t hide it, but I was so wrapped up in my own world, utterly oblivious to her affections. Granted, she was probably thirteen when this picture was taken, and I was fifteen with my sights on girls my own age.
Her voice from above prompts me back to my task. Finding the square packet, I take the condom and return the photo to the box. I’ll have to bring it up later.
I pop back up to find Cecelia spread out on the bed, completely naked, her hand between her legs.
The sight of her touching herself makes me wonder if she ever did that as a teenager as she thought about me?
Oh hell.
Everything else, including reminiscing about the past and wondering what teenage CC fantasized about, will have to wait until later.
Right now, I’m ready to make some new adult memories together.
I wanted to be bold. To prove to Jase that I wasn’t the same little girl he used to know.