by TC Matson
A few moments of silence allow me to eat without visions of fucking her on the table. She’s quit moaning—thank fuck—which has calmed my dick down.
“After dinner, I’m going to call Max and see if he’d like to have lunch tomorrow. Since I’m in town, I want to see him,” she says.
I nod, blinking back to my food. “That’ll give me some time to finish a few things up.”
“Have you talked to him?”
“I’ve tried,” I tell her. “But he’s not talking.”
She sighs, and then frowns. “I hate this. I’m sorry.”
“He’ll come around. You know how he is. He’s emotional, more so than any of us, coupled with his protectiveness over you. I won’t let him sit and stew.”
She drops her view to her lap. “What if he tries fighting you again?” She looks so sad, so worried.
“Then I guess we’ll look like a bunch of idiots beating the shit out of each other.” I pause and take a breath. “He’ll come around. It’s going to be rough getting there, but he will.”
“Maybe, but you two won’t ever be the same.”
“Yeah we will.” I doubt it.
Discontent tangles her exhale as she grabs her plate and trudges into the kitchen. I’m right behind her.
“What are you doing?”
She doesn’t look at me, opening several drawers before finding a dish rag, and starts rinsing off the dishes.
I squeeze her shoulder. “I’d do it all over again if it meant being with you.”
She drops her head but doesn’t reply. Moving her out from in front of the sink, she begins to protest. With a pointed look, I tilt my head. “Go sit. I’ve got this.”
“You cooked. I should—”
“Sit, Jade,” I demand sternly.
She opens her mouth to say something but clamps it shut blasting me with a sour glare. Our gazes linger until I turn around and pull open the dish washer. Fuck hand washing these things. No way. She leans back and watches me—rinse, stack, repeat. I’m washing the pan I used for the vegetables when her hands slide under the hem of my shirt and drift over my hips, splaying across my abs.
“This is the sexiest I’ve ever seen you,” she whispers between placing kisses to my shirt.
“Is that so? Thought for sure naked with a hard cock would be your favorite.”
She digs her fingers into my abs but then skims down making quick work with the button and zipper. Sliding under my boxers, she runs her palm over my dick, which is already ready to get this party started, before dragging her hand back up. Wrapping each finger around my shaft, she squeezes the perfect amount of pressure and slides down. Slowly she pumps, her other hand gripping my hip. Variations of pressure—hard, soft, firm, lose—stir my cock.
Jade here wants to play…
I’m ready to blow her mind…
Grasping her hand, I twist around and then spin her back into the cold fridge. Her eyes are heavy, full of excitement and anticipation. I cup her chin and bend to her face.
A hum reverberates. “Tell me what’s on your dirty mind, Jade. You’re feeling frisky.” I lick my lips and then drag my tongue along the shell of her ear.
She bites her lip as her chest rises and falls, her breath heavy with desire.
Slowly, I trace my fingers along the gorgeous curves of her body, down to the hem of her shirt, and pull it over her head. Next, I unclasp her bra. Her tits emerge, nipples pebbled. I hold her gaze as I lower her pants, lechery dilating her pupils. I glance down. She’s naked, her smooth skin covered with goosebumps, her legs together.
“You’re so fucking beau—”
My sentence is swallowed by her kiss. By my hair, she yanks my mouth to hers, slamming our lips together. Her kiss is desperate, her breath hitched, as she crawls her hands all over me.
I snatch them, pinning them with one grip above her head to the stainless steel. Snaking my hand through her hair, I pull her head to the side to lave her neck and bite on her jawline. She moans, arching her body into me.
“Fuck me, Zach,” she whispers thickly.
My lips twitch. “You’ll beg me first,” I reply and then nibble on her neck where her heartbeat is pulsing.
Starting at the top of her thigh, I drift my fingers to the apex of her center, spread her soaked folds, and press into her. Her chin tips to the ceiling and she pants. But I’m not in the mood for foreplay.
As I shove my pants to my thighs, her eyes are gleaming with wanton excitement. Easing, I inch in, seating myself to the hilt, and wait for my cue that she’s adjusted. Her hips instantly rock and I withdrawal, slamming back into her with force. Her hiss morphs into a mewl and with each pump, her moans become more erotic. I tighten my grip on her hands when she tries tugging them down and answer the question in her eyes with another deep thrust. Her tits bounce as my thrusts force her body up the fridge door.
“Ah!” she pants.
“Is this what you wanted?” I rasp, pumping into her.
Her head rocks before her mouth works. “Yes. Please. Yes,” she mewls.
Her pussy begins to tighten, her hips surging forward to meet mine.
“Zach…”
Quickly I pull out…against my pulsing cock’s plea not to.
Her eyes spring open, desperation for her release front and center. “No. No. Noooo,” she writhes, trying to rip her hands from mine and using her leg to bring me back to her. “Please.”
A teasingly sinister chuckle escapes as I drag my tongue across her bottom lip. “Mmmm…so close, were you?” I kiss her, letting go of her hands. Instantly, she reaches around and grabs a handful of my ass, scrambling to pull my dick back into her.
Lifting her by the ass, she screws her legs around my waist and braces her forearms on my shoulders as she holds on to my neck. Her kiss is frantic—a sloppy plea—as I carry her to the couch.
I lower her, placing her back to the cushion, and push back into her sweet, slick heat as she sighs with pleasure. I lift her leg to my side and, ever so slowly, make my own love to her while she’s oblivious I am. My drive is unhurried, withdrawing to the crown of my dick, and sinking back in. Long strokes have her humming and biting her bottom lip. I place a soft kiss to the side of her neck and she whimpers, digging her fingers into the skin on my shoulder blades.
I’m lost in the feeling of her, lost in her pant and moan, those sexy as fuck little high-pitched sighs. Wasted from her touches. Sweat has her skin glistening, glowing like she’s an angel. Her legs begin to shake, her body arches slightly and I listen to it.
Gripping the back of her thigh, I brace as I lift, picking up my pace and giving her more of the dick she’s begging for. Her pussy begins to pulse, and her body shudders.
“Zach…Please.”
Those fucking words are salaciousness in the air.
I grind in, driving with long strokes as she cries out unrestrained, succumbing to the waves of her orgasm. She grips the cushion, her mouth parted as she gasps for air her mewl is stealing.
Suddenly, scorching heat rushes my cock and my nuts tighten. My skin blazes. The knot in my stomach releases and I slam into my release.
Clenching my jaw, I growl, bucking while spilling myself into her.
I drop to my elbow, careful not to squish her, and try catching my breath as tremors roll through me. My heart is beating so wildly, I feel it throbbing through my entire body, even down to my fucking toes.
She shoves her hand into her hair and hums her satiation.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” I rasp. “But if I die fucking you, it’s definitely the way I want to go out.” I chuckle, moving off her.
Her smile is lazy and she cracks an eye open. “You stop me like that again, and I’ll make sure your demise is torturous.”
I drop my head to the back of the couch and laugh. “Smother me by sitting on my face. It’ll be a slow death.”
It causes her to giggle. She sits up and with the tips of her fingers, draws a line across my chest. “You
’d enjoy that too much.” Her legs quake as she stands. “I’m going to bed.”
And just like that, I watch her glorious naked ass, each cheek lifting and falling, disappear down the hallway. I grin.
Jade
It felt…weird when I left Zach’s this morning. He was acting all boyfriendish, and it not only irritated the hell out of me, it also made me swoon. I hate him doing it. I despise how it makes me feel. It reminds me how he can make me fall in love and be heartbroken at the same time. I know better than to give him my heart again. I know the end result.
Stepping into Max’s apartment, I’ve never been so nervous to see him. I haven’t seen him since we told him I was pregnant and have only exchanged a few text messages. Everything is out of our norm. And it sucks he’s giving me the jitters because, I mean, he’s my brother.
He appears from his room, sauntering down the hallway and cheesing like an idiot. My brother is handsome and I’m not just saying that out of blood obligation. I mean it. He’s tall and muscular, which he gets from our grandfather because Dad is definitely rocking the dad-bod. His hair is shaggy and untamed—the same way he’s worn it since I can remember. He has these dark eyes that can hide every damn thing he thinks. And it’s not fair. I wasn’t allowed to swim in that part of the gene pool. I have to focus so hard for my eyes not to give anything away that it’s almost exhausting. Having to keep Zach a secret and face him took some major training.
“I’m driving,” he calls out jingling his keys in his hand.
“Hi to you too, butthead,” I snort.
He wraps his arms around me and kisses the side of my head. “I’m glad you’re here, but I’m hungry as hell. Where do you want to go?”
A laugh bubbles out of me. “You’re really going to ask the pregnant girl that? I’ll take one of everything.”
He chuckles. “What about Penrose? You still like the place, right?”
Just its name makes me force my eyes to not roll. “Yeesssss,” I moan. “Perfect.”
After being seated and ordering our food and drinks, I grip the sides of the round table. “I’m so glad to be alive,” I overdramatically tease. “Your driving is horrendous.”
He cracks up. “Says the girl who has a wreck under her belt.”
I narrow my eyes. “A fender-bender. Not a wreck. You, on the other hand, are just plain lucky. That one car almost hit us.”
“Nah.” He dismisses with an eye roll. “I had it.”
Male macho…
“You pulled right out in front of it. Next time, I’m driving. I’m calling it now.”
The side of his mouth pulls up in one of those “you’re an idiot if you think so” smirks but says nothing as the waitress brings our drinks and says our food will be out in a few minutes.
“How’s being pregnant?” he asks over his glass.
“Some days I feel normal. Other days I’m sure I’m carrying a pissed teenager who doesn’t like what I’ve cooked.”
“How long will that last?”
“The doctor said by the second trimester I’ll be better.”
He nods and is about to say something when the waitress brings our food. We eat as I tell him about my weird cravings and my addiction to root beer at the moment. I make small talk about some of the dos and don’ts, and then slip into conversation about how Freya is the most amazing baby momma a girl could ask for.
After Max takes his last bite, he tosses his napkin to the empty plate, leans back, and rubs his bloated belly. “This is your fault. I always overeat when I come here.” He takes a sip of his drink. “Hope you’re not expecting me to do too much tonight. I’m likely not to make it off the couch. Sounds like a movie night.”
“Please tell me you didn’t invite your sister for a Netflix and chill type of night?” I tease.
Horror and disgust curls his lip. “What the hell is wrong with your twisted mind?”
I titter but quickly sober up having to mutter the words that are more than likely about to shatter his good mood. “Actually, I’m not staying with you.”
Cold betrayal slices across his narrowed eyes. “You’re staying with Zach?”
“Yeah,” I respond feeling guilty. “But it felt weird coming here and not see—”
“You’re staying with Zach?”
“Yes.”
His mouth forms a straight line and he signals to the waitress to bring the check.
“I hate this,” I sigh. “I just wish you two would talk and make up or something.”
He puffs a sinister laugh, cutting his glare at me. “Not happening. The damage is irreparable.”
“But—” I start to make a perfect argument, but he interrupts.
“Stop.”
I pout. Yep. Like a bratty teenager, and tilt my head to the side.
He leans his elbows to the table. “How would you feel if someone you considered family betrayed you? Years, Jade. For years. I trusted him. He walked you to class, spent the night at the house all the time. He came with me to all your volleyball games. I had him be your date for all types of shit.” He cranes his neck, stretching it. “And years later I find out he’s been fucking you the entire time.”
“Not the entire time,” I blab.
He looks away and scrapes his bottom lip with his teeth out of anger. “He had the nerve to look me in the eyes and act like not a damn thing was happening. Years of secrets. That friendship was fucking fake,” he ends in a low growl.
“But you’re not banishing me,” I retort.
He takes a sip of his drink before responding. “You’re my sister. No matter how disappointed I am with you, I’ll always love you.”
“You’d be a fool not to realize how much you mean to Zach. He loves you like a brother.”
There’s so much anger and pain lost in his eyes. It hurts my heart to know it’s so immense that he’s unable to hide them like normal. “He’s not my brother. His actions tell that story.”
I’m desperate and brave in this moment. “I lied to you for years too.”
He shoves to his feet, his eyes icy cold. “I know.” His tone is caustic, and it hurts to know he’s mad at me too. “Let’s go.”
His demeanor is stiff, exasperation billowing off him. It makes my body tense and my heart hurt as I follow him out of the restaurant. Normally, I lead, but today I’m doing the following as he storms out. He rips open the car door and looks over at me.
“Max, I—”
“Get in.” His eyes flare at me and the anger in them shuts me up. I do as I’m told and drop in.
He doesn’t say a word as he cranks the car…or when he takes off out of the parking lot…or while we drive through the city in a heated blast toward his apartment building, zipping past people who look like blurry smears. He continues his stand off and stalks to the elevators with me in his angry wake. The rage in the air as we ride the elevator feels too hard to breath, like some sort of thick cancerous smoke. The animosity threatens to produce tears.
He tosses his keys onto a little table and keeps on striding as we enter his place.
My feet stop when we enter the living room and I look down to the ground unsure what to even say. “I guess I’m going to go.” My throat is so tight, I squeak.
Without casting a glance to me, he points to the couch. “Sit.”
I don’t argue and do as I’m told…yet again.
“Have you told Mom and Dad yet?” he asks, his tone implying he already knows the answer.
Shamefulness drops my view to my hands in my lap.
“Thought so.” His gruff rides out in a grunt.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Start with I’m pregnant. At least it’s not a lie.”
I flick my eyes to him. “And receive the third degree on why I shouldn’t be having sex until marriage?” I twirl my finger in the air. “I’m not ready to hear Dad’s reaction.”
“His baby girl, precious Jade is having sex and has run off and gotten knocked up,” he ridicules me.
“Stop, Max.”
“This whole situation is embedded with so many lies and deceptions.” He pulls out his phone, swipes it a few times, and then drops it to the table right in front of me.
Dad lights up the display and my heart slaps my chest as the ring pierces the room.
“I’m not going to sit around while you keep them in the dark because you’re too scared to endure the consequences of what fucking can get you. Grow up already.”
I glare at him in his vindictive glory as the third ring sends my heart into panic.
“Maxwell!” Dad answers.
Nope. This is panic heartbeat.
“How are you?” Dad boasts.
“Hey, Dad. I’m good. Is Mom around too?” Nothing. His tone implies absolutely nothing. No emotion. No turmoil. No fury at his sister.
“Is everything okay?” Dad’s tone settles with more concern and I’m guessing he can hear the slight twinge of annoyance. Probably because Max is fucking gritting his fake peppy words.
“Yeah. I’ve got Jade here. We’re on speaker phone. She has something she’d like to discuss.”
“Hi, Dad,” I clench, trying to sound excited while I murder my fucking insidious brother with a glower.
“Gummie! It’s so good to hear your voice,” Dad says and then yells for Mom.
My nick name grants me an eye roll from Max. When I was a child, I’d eat an entire bag of gummy bears, to the point where I’d get sick, but I couldn’t stop. I was addicted and Dad was my enabler, bringing them almost daily.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” I hiss quietly, my body vibrating from anger.
Vindictiveness raises his brow. “Who knows when you’ll tell the truth. Better now than never,” he snaps back just as quietly.
“You’re such a fucking asshole.”
“We’re here,” Dad unknowingly interrupts the spat.
“Max? Jade? I’m so glad you called.” Mom is always cheery when she talks to us and it makes me miss her even more. “I was just telling your father how we needed to call and check in. I feel like it’s been months since I’ve gotten to talk to you. How are my babies?”