by Candy Quinn
“Um, what?”
“Huh?” Sara sounded, looking toward the tall one. The atmosphere had suddenly grown a little tense, and she didn’t know what she had done wrong.
“Look, lovely, we just bought you a drink. How about you stay and chat with us for a while?”
“I really can’t,” she replied, and she reached for the drink, but as she did so, a second hand came in from over her shoulder to pull the drink out of her grasp.
“Yeah,” she heard from over her shoulder. “Chat with us for a bit.”
“I really can’t!” Sara felt the cold fingers of panic take hold of her heart. Her head span, and suddenly she was no longer allured and enticed by the seething crowd of people. Now she was scared by it, and confused by it. “I really should go.”
“Come on, sweetheart. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
“No,” she whispered. “I need to go.” But the two wouldn’t let her leave. As she turned to walk away, one of them stood in front of her, grinning at her.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, shrugging. Sara felt her heart rate quicken, and felt adrenaline course through her body. What the hell was going on? That’s when she noticed Nick, easily the tallest person in the bar, steaming toward her.
“What are you doing to my girl?” he demanded of the two boys.
“Nothing,:” came the defiant response. “Just buying her a drink, that’s all.”
“Well give it to somebody else,” Nick growled, and then he turned to Sara. “Jesus, you’re drunk, aren’t you? Come on, we’re going home.”
“Oh, so that’s your brother,” one of the boys remarked.
“Fuck off!” she hurled at them as Nick led her away. She stumbled and nearly fell, but was caught and swept up into her brother’s arms. “You said I was your girl,” she mumbled.
“Of course you are.”
“You said I was your girl,” she repeated.
“We’re going home.”
* * *
Sara woke up as she Nick lowered her onto the sofa. “We’re home?” she asked, her head spinning.
“Yes, we’re home,” he confirmed, his voice dark and with a hint of anger trembling in his tone.
“Can you make me some food, please?” she groaned at him, rubbing her stomach. She felt hungry, and slightly nauseated. Too much to drink!
“Sure, Sara. What do you want?”
“Pancakes!” she cried, grinning at him like mad. “And some of that gingerbread you were baking earlier,” she chirped, remembering the mouthwatering smell that had flooded the kitchen when she had first arrived. Though it was no longer her favorite, it was still one of her favorites.
“No problem.”
“Thanks, Nick,” she said, leaning up on the armrest of the sofa to watch her brother cook in the kitchen. He was still wearing his jeans and shirt, but when he reached up to get the pancake mix from the cupboard, a sliver of his skin was exposed.
“You said I was your girl,” Sara teased, grinning at her brother.
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Sara, you definitely need some food. Also, you drank way too much! You should be pacing yourself. That was stupid of you. You could have gotten into trouble!”
“Sorry,” she said, feeling hurt at her brother’s admonishment. “It’s just, I was nervous, you know? Meeting all your friends. I didn’t realize I had so much to drink.”
“I know. Sorry, Sara,” and Nick spoke with a sigh. “It’s just that those two assholes who bought you a drink were out of it. Who knows what could have happened?”
“Oh, come on!” Sara snorted. “Nothing would have happened.”
“That you would remember,” Nick hissed at her. His voice was, for a moment, filled with nastiness, before his face warmed and his voice softened. “You never know, Sara.”
“That smells good!” she said, determined to change the topic. She got up from the sofa and walked to the kitchen counter. “When did you learn how to make pancakes?”
“It’s not rocket science.”
“Or heart surgery.”
“Or that.” He placed the plate on the counter, and on it were three pancakes with syrup drizzled over them.
“And the gingerbread?” Sara asked, sitting down and swaying gently left and right on her seat.
“Coming up. Start first.”
“What about you?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Sure you aren’t,” she said. “I don’t know why you control what you eat so much.”
“You know,” Nick said with a laugh, and he turned around to face her. “I don’t have a body like yours. You could eat mountains and you’d never get fat. See this?” And he patted his stomach and defined forearms. “I have to work for this.”
“I’m not so skinny anymore!” Sara protested. “At least, I think I’ve filled out quite nicely.”
“And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think so, too, Sara, but you didn’t have to work for it. It just kind of happened. You’re lucky. Not many people are able to be so careless with their diets. But age will catch up to you soon.”
“Don’t you think I’ve filled out quite nicely?” Sara asked, repeating herself and resting her head on one of her hands. She grinned at her step-brother, and couldn’t help but think how gorgeous a boy he was.
A wave of lucidity washed over her, and she sat up straight, feeling the prick of shame. “Nick,” she spoke seriously.
“What?” he asked. His face was a tableau of uncertainty, but it almost looked to Sara as if he knew that what she was about to say would make things awkward.
“Um,” Sara said, feeling her resolve faltering. Just moments ago she had felt such a strong need to tell him, to admit to him what had been that aching echo in the back of her mind for years, what she had just been thinking about earlier in the day.
“What is it?”
“I need to tell you something,” she said, throwing it out there, sealing it. “It’s been on my mind for years.”
“Years?”
“Yeah. Since you were last home.”
“Um,” he said, sitting down opposite her on the counter. He smiled at her, and shrugged with his eyebrows. “What is it?”
“I don’t know if you remember. You probably don’t. Mum and Dad were out, and you had told me to go to bed early.”
“Yeah—”
“And you brought a girl home.”
“Okay—”
“And, um—” Sara’s voiced trailed off and she suddenly found it extremely difficult to look at her brother. Her face crumpled with emotion for a moment before she regained her courage. “I watched you from the top of the stairs.” As soon as she said it, she felt a strange sense of euphoria and of contentedness.
She looked at him in silence, and he did not speak for nearly a minute. They were locked in a small bubble of palpable quiet and tension, but the tension was not hers. She felt strangely light, strangely relieved.
“I know,” he said eventually.
“You do?” she asked, and put her hand to her mouth. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I—I don’t know,” he admitted with obvious difficulty. “I guess, I don’t know. I always kind of knew, you know?”
“Knew what?”
“Come on, Sara. Don’t make me say it.”
“Knew what?” Sara demanded, feeling her heart throbbing hard in her chest. A thousand butterflies wreaked havoc in her stomach.
“That you, you know, kind of liked me. It wasn’t the only time I caught you staring at me when you shouldn’t have been, you know?”
“You knew?” she gasped. “How did you know? What other times are you talking about? Tell me!”
“Come on, Sara,” he replied, his eyebrows dipping in an expression of exasperation. “Of course I knew. You think you hid it well? Like when I changed? Or when we were at the pool?”
“You should have said something” she said, suddenly indignant, as if donning that emotion
could mask her embarrassment. She knew the alcohol in her system was fueling her emotions, magnifying them, but she couldn’t control it. She felt shame, and she suddenly regretted the whole conversation.
Why had she told him? She hadn’t meant for this to be an admission of her secret yearnings for her brother! She just wanted to tell him that she had seen him that night. Not that she had both liked watching his nakedness, and felt seething jealousy and hatred toward the girl he was with!
“I don’t know why I said anything,” she groaned, before getting up. “I’m going to bed.”
“Sara, wait—”
“Shut up, Nick.”
“Sara!” he called, standing up at the counter.
“I said fuck off!” she cried. She went to her room and took off her clothes, and lay beneath the covers nude, feeling more naked mentally than she was physically, feeling more vulnerable than ever.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she hissed at herself. Her head was spinning. She felt drunk and out of control. And her tears began to flow.
* * *
Sara lay in bed for hours, unable to fall asleep. After midnight, she got out of bed and put on her robe to use the bathroom, and that was when she heard the music playing gently through Nick’s door. So he wasn’t asleep, either.
“Nick?” she called through the door, knocking on it.
“Yeah.”
“Can I come in?”
“Yeah.” She opened the door and saw her brother sitting on his bed, reading, wearing nothing but his boxer shorts.
“Nick—” she began, but was unable to continue.
“It’s okay,” he said. “Let’s not talk about it anymore.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just, I’ve always known it was wrong, and I’ve always felt ashamed about it. Today, before I first saw you, I wanted to be this kind of girl that you’d want but couldn’t have, because then you’d know how I feel, and—” she stopped herself from speaking, realizing the words were simply spilling out of her.
“But Sara,” he said earnestly. “I do want you. And I know that’s wrong, too! And look, I don’t think you’re wrong or disgusting for thinking the way you do. I don’t blame you for anything!” His eyes faltered and he looked away from her, but the admission had hit Sara right in the heart.
“Y-you do, too?” she asked.
“Yes,” he managed with some difficulty. “I’ve always liked you a little more than I should have. I’ve just, you know, controlled it. Like my diet. I’m a controller, you know? I’ve missed you so much since leaving home, but force myself to focus on something else. Anything else!”
“Nick,” she whispered, feeling her head grow light and her vision begin to blur at the edges. “Would it be wrong—”
“Yes,” he said, his voice imbued with a harsh severity.
“Really?” Sara persisted.
“I think so.”
“But why?”
“Oh, Sara, I don’t know!” he cried, burying his face in his hands. Sara saw his conflict, something so deep within him like it was within her, and she moved to his bed and sat next to him and took one of his hands into hers. Just touching his hand felt electric.
“Nick, don’t feel bad,” she said. “I like that we have the same feelings.”
“You don’t understand, Sara. We can’t.”
“Listen to me, Nick.” Sara paused, marshaling her thoughts. “For so long I’ve liked you more than I should have, and I’ve been shamed into hiding it. We’re brother and sister, even if we don’t have the same blood running through our veins! “But listen—” she trailed off, trying to find the words. She felt the beginnings of that nervousness returning, and her lower lip trembled as emotions flooded into her.
“I’ve always liked you. I just think we get along so well, you know? And tonight, well, I only wanted to tell you that I spied on you that night. I don’t know why! I was drunk. But I was thinking about it before we went out.
“But to find out that you knew all along, it shocked me. I felt so embarrassed. But now I know why you knew, and so now you knowing is a good thing. I don’t know if I’m explaining it well enough for you to understand. But the burden is gone now, Nick. You’ve freed me from it.”
“Really?” he asked, looking at her for the first time since his admission.
“Yes,” she said. “Yes, really. You understand the way I feel, because you feel it too, right?”
“Y-yes.”
“It’s so nice to have someone who understands me, Nick,” she said truthfully. “I almost wanted to spite you today by dressing nice in front of you, by looking good in front of you. I don’t know why. I guess it was, like, a bitterness inside me. I’d always felt rejected. Not so much by you, but by the fact that the rules say I can’t like you this way. But I do, and now I know you do, so fuck the rules! Let it out, Nick! Accept it!”
“Sara—”
“No,” she said, and she grabbed his face in between her hands and pulled him toward her. She kissed him, at first gingerly on the lips, and he did not respond. She pulled him a little closer, and wormed her lower lip in between his, and that was when she felt him starting to kiss back.
In an instant, urgency overwhelmed her, and she kissed him with a ferocity that she didn’t know she possessed. Nick’s resolve seemed to melt away, and she felt him concede, submit, and soon he was kissing her back, their tongues a warm and wet dance of exploration, their lips mashed roughly together.
The kiss turned to fire, all tongue and teeth, and Sara felt her step-brother’s hands at the cord that tied her robe together. He undid the not, and the robe opened to bare her nude body beneath it. He slid the robe off her shoulders, and broke the kiss to look her up and down.
“Jesus,” he whispered. “You’re so beautiful.”
“Kiss me,” Sara hissed at him, and she waited as he launched himself back toward her, as their lips met with jolting force.
She pressed her bared body up against his, and felt the hard muscle of his chest and stomach against hers. She couldn’t believe they were actually doing it, but that thought was swept away by the surging tide of passion and lust welling within her.
She rolled him over onto the bed and kissed him fiercely, her hands roaming up and down his chiseled torso, and she could feel the press of his hard and ready manhood.
“Sara,” he gasped in between kisses. She sat up on him, her breasts squishing together as she rested her hands on his chest.
“What?”
“Take my boxers off.”
“Yeah,” she whispered, her voice hoarse and husky. She began to frantically wiggle the shorts down his legs beneath her. She gasped as his girthy member sprang into view, lined with thick veins like the ones on his arms.
She took in the sight of him, a pressure building both within her heart and her abdomen. He was so fucking sexy. His body was so perfect. His dick looked so, so good.
“Oh, Nick,” she moaned at him, leaning over to kiss him again. The hurry and urgency with which she kissed him, touched him, cupped his balls and squeezed his girth, was something alien to her. Never before had she ever felt such a need, and in such a rush, to make love to another guy.
But with Nick it was different. She sighed and hummed as his hands roamed her body, kneaded her breasts and tweezed her nipples. Each touch of his fingertips felt as if he was shooting electricity through her, and she was desperately ready, both in her mind and in between her legs.
“Make love to me, Nick,” she moaned into his mouth between their mashing kisses. She reached in between her legs and grasped his girth and guided him to her entrance. “Make love to me, Nick,” she moaned again. “Please, please, please—”
Sara moaned loudly as he pushed into her, sliding into her slick, ready sex with ease. She felt hints at pain as his thickness stretched her, but she had never before felt so filled up. It was something amazing, and she shut her eyes tight as they lied still together, connected, for moments.
“O
h, fuck,” she hissed as he began so slide himself out of her. She was certain she could feel every bump of his veins; she was positive that if she was stretched any further it would cross into the realm of pain.
“Are you okay?” he asked, stroking her hair before pulling her back down into a kiss.
“Yes,” she said into his mouth. “Fuck me.” She gently pushed herself down on his sex, and moaned and whimpered as she felt it stretch her, as she felt as though every nerve ending within her was being touched all at once.
Sparks went off inside her, both in her canal and in her mind.
He held her tightly against him in a passionate embrace, kissing her fiercely as he began to fuck her, as he began to thrust with increasing power into her again and again. She moaned and writhed and squirmed on him, the feeling of being fucked by her gifted, gorgeous brother amazing. She had longed for him for so long, lusted after him, spent nights with the shower head thinking just of him, and had been shamed into silence by her understanding of what was right and wrong.
But how could this be wrong? This was what they both wanted. This was some form of love!
And it was beautiful!
She kissed him deeply, moaning and squealing into his mouth as he fucked her harder. She could feel his shaft hardening within her, hear his breathing quickening.
“Nick,” she said, lifting her body up and stroking his face. “Nick, I love you.”
“I love you too, Sara,” he replied, and he held her by the hips as she began to rock herself on his body. She rode him with abandon, and guided one of his hands to her pulsing pearl. He thumbed it vigorously, and with apparent expertise, in smooth and rhythmic circles matched to the tempo of their fucking.
“Oh, Nick!” she cried, squeezing her breasts, pinching and tweezing her own nipples while riding him faster, as fast as she could. She was in another world, a kind of heaven; bliss and joy were coursing through her veins.
She had him! She had her brother! And not only that, but he had her, and he wanted her! It was perfect. It was so, so perfect!
“Nick,” she gasped, hearing the whispers of climax around her, like wisps of smoke slowly encircling and enveloping her body. She felt a pressure inside her, spreading outward from her center. “Oh, shit, Nick! Fuck me! Harder!”