by L. L. Ash
Yes, I was definitely, hopelessly envious of a man I would never have, but I couldn’t just tell my brain to stop caring. I’d always cared for Hunter and I probably always would. Hell, the more I was around him, the more I missed him.
The girls were giggling and flirting and flashing their boobs all around for him while he regaled them with some kind of tale, so I just got up and grabbed the apple martini and went over to the group of guys.
“Hi!” I said, shaking, because, what the hell was I doing?
They all turned to me and gave me their suavest smiles, two fixing their jackets while the other two fussed with their hair.
“This was so sweet!” I told them, holding up the fruity drink I didn’t want. “Thanks so much!”
“I happened to hear that it was your birthday,” the guy right in front of me said, the first one to notice me at the bar.
“Well thanks! I just wanted to tell you I appreciate it.”
Not even two seconds later, Hunter came sliding up next to me and slipping his arm around my waist, exaggerating the possessive move so the other guys would be sure to see it.
“So nice of you,” Hunter agreed with a sarcastic smile, “but I’m buying her drinks tonight.”
The guy who bought my drink frowned, his smile dropping instantly as he focused on the hand sliding just a little too close to the bottom of my boob.
“C’mon, baby girl,” Hunter said, nipping at my earlobe. “I ordered our food. Now we just gotta get you a little less sober.”
I tried to shove him a little, angry at the spikes of arousal that his gestures provoked, but I ended up following him back to the table without a second look at the other guys.
“I don’t think I like this game,” Hunter said in all seriousness as we got to the table. “We’re never going to get sloppy drunk if we spend more time talking to useless bicks and dicks than each other. What do you say we call it a tie?”
Why so agreeable all of a sudden?
“Did those girls reject you?” I scoffed, completely sure they didn’t, but, why else would he call it off?
“No. They were a little too eager for some bad boy cock. And I have no intention of fighting them off the rest of the night. Until we get back home, you’re my girl and I’m your cock. Got it?”
Why did he have to keep saying cock? It zinged electricity down my spine and right to my clit each and every time the word rounded his lips.
Damn it…
“Fine,” I agreed. “But this competition is far from over.”
He gave me a blinding grin before reaching over and picking up the apple martini from my hand. With a quick flick of his wrist, the glass was turned upside down and he’d downed it all.
“Good. And the only drinks you’ll be having tonight are mine.”
The skin tinglies were back. Fuck, I loved his agressively posessive behavior, which wasn’t normal for me. Maybe it was the shots going to my head already.
Right, that was it.
Going back to my rum and coke, I took another sip and considered just how the evening might go. We were pretending to be each other’s for the night, and that had been a dream of mine for so, so long. Even with a broken heart, I nursed the silent fantasy of being his. Since that boy kissed my lips for the first time when I was twelve, he owned me. Evidently, that never changed in the next nine years.
Taking a couple more sips, I tried to fortify myself. It would be all too easy to pretend, just for the night, that I was his. The problem would lie when we got back home and I would again just be the annoying little sister.
I knew that, and yet I still agreed.
Hm, maybe some of the stink of desperation in the room was mine.
He wasn’t looking at me anymore, so I simply nodded.
Yeah, desperate was right.
And while I meant to enjoy every moment with him, I knew I would regret it come morning.
- 30 -
Hunter
This was a bad idea.
Like, a bad fucking idea.
Ivy was trashed.
Hell, I was pretty trashed.
There was no driving home for us, so I had to think of a plan B. If only I could get my brain to function enough to come up with one.
Ever since that scene at the table with the McDouches, Ivy had been flirting like a motherfucking nun on vacation. She kept pressing her boobs into the table to whisper stupid shit to me, and I’d get a good eyefull every time. But her words had become sloppy after drink five, and she was savoring drink six now.
The girl was hashed.
I’d gone slower, only on number four since I knew I was supposed to be watching out for her. Didn’t matter though. Every drop of alcohol in my body demanded that I get closer, smell her, feel her, taste her. I wanted every single piece of her, but she wasn’t mine to desire.
For the night, though, we were playing a roll, and it felt fucking amazing. Ivy’s smile radiating down at me instead of her frown, and her giggles instead of her ire made my chest warm and my heart thump away in excitement.
I didn’t even have whiskey dick yet, so even that part of me was pretty down with the whole situation. I’d been half mast all night, ever since her cunt was digging into my ass on my bike.
“I want cake,” she murmured, fumbling with the menu on our table. “They got a dessert menu?”
I knew they didn’t, but I let her look, anyway.
“You’re trashed, baby girl,” I told her eventually while her finger ran down the words on the page for the third time.
“I am not. I might not have bodily function of my body right now, but my brain is brainy enough to think thoughts.”
I burst out laughing at the ridiculous sentence she’d just created.
“You’re pissed,” I added, snorting my laugh.
“I am not. Besides, I’m not as think as you drunk I am.”
Aw, shit.
I almost pissed myself laughing so hard at that.
“Tell you what,” I said once I got my breathing under control, minus the little hiccup I’d managed to acquire in my mirth. “The hotel next door has room service. Let’s get a room, get you some cake, and sleep off our booze.”
“You trying to take advantage of me?” she asked, blinking hazy blue eyes at me flirtatiously.
“Pretty sure it’s illegal to fuck your sister in California,” I told her, which made her frown.
“We’re not really brother and sister. You could still fuck me if you wanted.”
It took a minute, but her eyes widened when she finally realized what she’d said. I choked on my response, not sure what to say to that, but luckily her wobble in the booth seat had me moving instead of talking.
Damn, was the ground always so wobbly?
Helping Ivy up, she leaned heavily against me as we worked our way out of the place. I grabbed my Manhattan, downed the last of it, then set the glass on the bar before waving goodbye to Bevvy, who was laughing at the awkward sway of the both of us.
“You got my card?” I asked her, pausing for just a second beside the bar.
“I already charged you,” she told me, handing back my little plastic bank card.
Tonight was going to be painful, between the expensive drinks, food, and now a hotel room, my wallet hurt. But Ivy was worth it. You only turned twenty-one once, and I wanted her to have a memorable night.
Or maybe not. She likely wouldn't remember any of it come morning.
We went through the little door inside the bar that led to the hotel and went right up to the counter where an annoyed looking receptionist greeted us with a frown.
“Need a room,” I told her, handing over the same card.
“What room?” she snarked.
“Doesn’t matter. Your cheapest one.”
She frowned harder at me, if that was even possible, then glanced over at Ivy who had started to sing ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Bat’ quietly to herself while I held her up.
“I hate this job,” the woman said,
then started clicking away at the computer.
I had to give her my ID too, which was difficult since I was still supporting my drunk step-sister, and the women’s frown lines got even deeper. Like, you could dig to China with those fucking ditches.
Finally, she gave me a key card and my cards back after making me sign for the room. I slipped my cards into my pocket, then palmed the hotel papers and led us to the elevator.
It was only on the third floor, but I was not about to walk Ivy up stairs.
Finally, we stumbled out of the elevator and found our room after going down two wrong halls. I slid the card in four times before it finally turned green, then let us in.
The room was pretty lush, even though it was their cheapest one.
It was a single bed, though.
Who fucking cared. We’d both be passed out soon enough.
Ivy started stripping out of her high heels when I called down to room service for the cake, then she started taking off her...aw shit.
Her sparkly tank top was next, then she wriggled out of her fantastic jeans until she was just there in matching lavender bra and panties. She was incredible.
Crawling over the sheets like a child, she slid into the bed and sighed long and hard while closing her eyes.
“Cake’s on the way,” I managed through my dry mouth, tongue sticking to the roof of it.
She just hummed in acknowledgement, then burrowed into the bedding, belly down.
Damn, the curve of her ass... With valleys and hills, my drunken eyes soaked her in from the dirty pads of her toes, to her bright, colorful hair spread out over her bare shoulders.
Goddamn…
Without my permission, my jaw stretched and a long yawn tumbled out. If I wasn’t so tired, I’d tap that beautiful ass…
But I needed a nap first.
Peeling my jacket off, I dropped it onto the floor, followed closely by my t-shirt and jeans.
A knock on the door startled me.
Cake already?
Not giving one single shit that I was in my boxer briefs, I went to the door and swung it open. A teenage guy was on the other side, his eyes immediately zooming in on my scantily clad crotch before he turned away and a dark blush took over his whole, embarrassed face.
“Hey, cake,” I said, taking the plate off his little push cart. “Thanks!”
I shut the door again, then brought in the birthday girl’s dessert.
Or should I say, the snoring birthday girl’s dessert.
I grinned down at her. God, I’d missed her ridiculous little kitten snores.
Exhausted myself, I wasn’t about to wake her up just for a few bites of chocolate cake, so I just set it down next to her on the nightstand, fork and all, then crawled into the bed myself.
Shit, when did I get to be such a lightweight?
Closing my eyes, I flopped onto my back and basked in the soft, cold sheets while Ivy’s little sounds drifted into my ears.
It’d been so long since we’d shared a bed, and God knows I’d missed it. That first night after she’d stomped my heart into tiny little bloody pieces in the hall at school, I couldn’t even sleep. The look of hurt on her face when I’d walked right past her after school and didn’t walk her home for the first time, haunted me. My bed felt cold and lonely while Mom and Dad argued in the front room, and all I wanted was to cuddle her and feel her warm body lined up against mine. Fuck kisses or romance. I just missed my friend.
Or, at least, I missed what she had been to me. I’d learned the hard way just what I’d meant to her.
But damn, it didn’t matter so much just then. The warmth and her particular smell wiped all the rest of that out of my brain.
I’d just barely closed my eyes when Ivy groaned and moved, her body shimmying closer to mine until she was shoving at my arm.
“Hunt,” she whined, still half asleep, “move.”
A grin broke across my face as I let one of my arms fall so she could cuddle into my shoulder, her palm plopping down on my chest while she smacked her lips right next to my fucking ear.
It was amazing.
A long moan of contentment hummed out of her chest before her breathing evened and she was asleep again. I just pulled her closer, loving the feel of her body next to mine, then pressed my forehead against hers before closing my own eyes. She smelled amazing and just like home. For the first time in almost a decade I was able to sleep without the heavy, suffocating load on my chest that had been with me ever since that first long, lonely night.
- 31 -
Hunter
NineYears Ago
I could hear him smacking her around.
There was the yelling, then Mom trying to calm Dad down, reassuring him that she wasn’t fucking cheating on him.
Like she even had time between watching out for me and keeping the house running after her waitressing shifts. Dad was a pig and made messes all the time that she was always cleaning up. Beer bottles and dirty laundry were just the least of it.
I snuck out of my room while they argued, knowing that I still couldn’t do anything about it and that Mom would be mad at me if I tried. So I made my way, slowly through the dark and drizzly night to Ivy’s house.
Her window was open as always, so I just crawled in.
“Hunt?” she grumbled, already having fallen asleep in her pink as hell bedding.
I shoved off my shoes and jeans before crawling under her comforter where a delicious puff of heat met me.
“They doing it again?” she asked in nothing more than a whisper.
I gulped, nodding.
If only when we said shit like our parents doing ‘it’ we were talking about sex and not beatings and arguing. I’d give my left nut for it to be the normal, gross thuds on the wall and groans of pleasure instead of pain.
“Sorry,” she breathed, digging into my arms before closing her eyes again.
There was nothing she could say that could make me feel better, but her presence did everything I needed.
Wrapping her up in my arms, I closed my eyes, and for the first time all night, I actually felt like maybe I could sleep.
Waking up was a bit of a two edged sword. Kind of a damned if you do, damned if you don’t moment. I liked waking up, because obviously that meant I was still alive. On the other hand, it also was the moment when I remembered how shitty my life was, and how useless I was to Mom.
Something was tickling my nose, and I smiled, knowing it was Ivy. I could smell her, and her warmth was addictive.
Without a word, I slipped out of her bed and pulled my jeans and shoes back on.
The sun was starting to break through the grey sky, and that was my signal to head home before Mom came looking for me. Ready to go, I paused just over Ivy and watched her sleep like a total creeper for just a second.
Beautiful.
I leaned down and pressed a kiss on her forehead, then hurried through the window.
Yeah, one day that girl and I were going to be a thing. More than boyfriend and girlfriend. Maybe in a decade or something, I was going to marry her, and I was going to make her so happy, she would never frown again.
- 32 -
Hunter
“Hey,” I whispered, poking Ivy's forehead so she’d wake up.
I was still feeling shitty after drinking, but the couple hours of sleep had been enough to revitalize me a little.
Besides, her birthday was about to be up, and we still hadn’t eaten that cake.
“Happy birthday to you,” I sang quietly into her ear until her eyes flickered open.
She groaned like Oscar the grouch, but then she saw me with the piece of cake in my hand and must have forgiven me instantly.
“Happy birthday to you,” I added, which just made her smile. “Happy birthday dear Ivy, happy birthday to yoooouuuu.”
I didn’t have a candle or anything, but I didn’t really care, either. Cake was cake.
“I hate you a little bit right now,” she said, sitting up and wiping
some drool off her face. “I was having a wet dream about Channing Tatum.”
I grinned and held the cake closer to her.
“Chocolate isn’t as good as Channing's wang, but a close second?”
She laughed and looked at me with blurry eyes.
“Thanks, Hunt.”
With the song complete, it was time to eat, then pass out again.
“I can think again, so there’s that,” Ivy said absently as she swiped the fork out of my hand.
“That’s good. Not drunk anymore?”
“Buzzed, maybe,” she said, looking at me with a wicked grin.
Judging by her carefree attitude and her lack of a filter still, I tended to agree.
“So? All forgiven for waking you up from your sexy dream about a guy who is way too old for you?” I asked.
She swatted my shoulder, then dug up a bite and held it up for me to take.
I did.
Holy sweet hell, that was good cake.
Ivy laughed and dropped the fork onto the plate before sitting forward to wipe the corner of my mouth.
I flicked my tongue out to catch what I assumed was a crumb, and managed to lick her thumb in the process. Her easy smile melted into what I could only describe as pure, unadulterated fucking lust.
Opening my mouth again, I chanced another nibble of her fingertip which made her lips pop open as she gasped. Curling her finger into my mouth, she hooked me like a Goddamn fish.
Immediately my lips closed around her thumb, and I could taste the hint of chocolate she’d tried to clean up. But after that, all I could taste on my tongue was her. The salty-sweet flavor was like crack cocaine in my system, and even though I was like, eighty percent sober, I swear my pupils dilated again like the addict I was, getting their first taste of ecstasy after so many years of going cold turkey.
Her throat bobbed as she gulped, but then she literally reeled me in, and I took that for what it was.
An invitation.
Her finger dropped from my mouth the moment my face dropped to hers. But I didn’t kiss her. No, I hovered my face right above hers, panting already with just that tiny taste of her.