by S. E. Law
“That’s fair,” George says, seeming to relax a little. “So you liked them okay, then?”
“Definitely,” I say, nodding. “I’m glad you’ve found someone you get along with so well. It’s been a while since Mom.”
“It has, hasn’t it?” asks George reflectively. “But Gertrude has really made me feel like a human being again. She matters and she cares so much about so many different things, from wildlife conservation to the City Council’s annual budget. And what about Frankie?” Dad asks. “I thought you guys might have more to talk about, but you guys seemed pretty quiet.”
“Yeah,” I dissemble vaguely. “She looks so familiar, but I can’t put my finger on it.”
“Hmm,” Dad says. “Well, I guess it’s just one of those things. Anyway, I hope tomorrow you’ll be more talkative.”
I raise my eyebrows, turning to look at him.
“Tomorrow? What’s going on tomorrow?”
Dad nods.
“Didn’t you hear what Gertie and I were talking about back in the parking lot?”
“No,” I say. I wasn’t listening at all. My mind was consumed by how delicious Frankie’s pussy felt against my fingers, and how wet she was for me. “I was busy saying goodbye to Frankie.”
“Well, that’s good, I guess,” George rumbles. “Anyway, we’re going over to their place tomorrow for wine and cheese. I think it would be a good idea to get to know them better in a less formal setting. I hope you don’t mind that I said you would come along, too.”
“Of course not,” I mutter, smirking a little. “I’d love to.” The truth is, I have about a million things to get done over the next few days, but suddenly, none of them feel important in the slightest. I could let it all go for a month at this point and not be broken up about it because I feel like the universe has conspired to bring me and Frankie back together. All day today I was thinking about the night we had, wishing there was a way to see her again even though it goes against every personal policy I’ve had ever since I started going to swinger parties. It’s supposed to be anonymous, no strings attached fun, but somehow, at some point, this girl got her hooks into me, and I don’t even know if she realizes how much. I want to claim her again as she moans my name. I want to get to know her. I want to be around her more. I don’t care how, or in what context, and I don’t care that at this point it’s becoming clear that I see her as more than a fling.
None of that matters. All I know is that I want Frankie Fordham, possibly more than I’ve ever wanted anyone before.
When we get back to our house, the neighborhood is quiet. It’s funny how these quaint little suburban houses can hold such dirty secrets, but I guess that’s part of the fun of this whole sex club thing. They’re a chance to cast off your everyday life and be someone else for a while. Someone adventurous and filthy, with no holds barred. It’s like a game.
Dad goes upstairs, but I linger in the living room, staring at the fireplace and thinking about the meal. I know that unfinished work is piling up as I sit here, and I’m going to have a headache to deal with in a day or so if I don’t address it, so in a desperate attempt to think about something other than Frankie for a few minutes, I pull out my laptop and begin to absently check my email again. It’s the least I can do, I figure.
I listen to the ticking of the grandfather clock in the front room as I work, throwing myself into it, and soon, the moon’s rising in the sky outside the window. Before I know it, it’s going up on ten, and I can feel myself starting to nod off as I look over invoices, order confirmations, and meeting dates. I really need to get a secretary, I think. God knows I can afford it.
It’s as my head is dropping against my chest, my eyes starting to drift close for the umpteenth time while I try to finish the last few email responses, that my cell phone rings. Frowning, I glance over at the seat next to me, where it’s vibrating over and over again. I don’t recognize the number on the screen, but that doesn’t mean much; it could be any one of my business contacts or colleagues. Shaking the sleep away and stretching for a moment, I reach over to pick it up and hold it up to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Hi!” It’s a female voice that sounds vaguely familiar, but I can’t place where I recognize it from. “Is this Hunter Martin?”
“Yeah,” I say, taking a deep breath and rolling my shoulders. “May I ask who’s calling?”
“Right to business, I see,” the woman says, laughing. “Well, I should have figured. I’m Cassie Princeton - I think we met briefly at my party last night.”
“Oh,” I say, and it all clicks into place. Cassie. The flirty, slim brunette woman who let me into the house when I arrived yesterday night. “That’s right. Sorry, Cassie. I, uh… I ran into a lot of people last night. It’s hard to keep them all straight.” I leave out the fact that the real reason I’m having trouble focusing is one person in particular.
“Don’t sweat it,” Cassie says nonchalantly. “That’s kind of the point, right?” She chuckles again, a light, tinkling laugh that might once have had me intrigued, but it doesn’t do much for me this time. “Anyway,” she says, her tone turning businesslike, “I wanted to tell you how happy I was to have you show up. You’re famous in these circles. Or should I say infamous?”
I laugh at that.
“The pleasure was all mine, really.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” she says, “because I’m having another get-together tonight, and I was wondering if you’d be interested in coming.”
“Tonight?” I ask, raising my eyebrows. “Same place?”
“Same place, same time,” she answers without missing a beat. “Maybe this time you and I could get to know each other a little better,” she says slyly.
The corner of my mouth twitches a little. This could be just the distraction I need, something to get a sense of normality back in the aftermath of everything that’s happened with Frankie. The truth is, I’m reeling a little after finding out that she’s going to be my step-sister, and even though that’s not stopping me from fantasizing about everything I still want to do with her, maybe another party could be good for me right now.
I open my mouth to tell her yes, but then stop myself. Then something twists in my breast, and I find myself saying words that even I can’t believe.
“I’m sorry, Cassie,” I growl, “but I actually have something I need to do tomorrow. I can’t afford to be out too late.”
What the hell? Since when is too late an issue for Hunter Martin?
“It doesn’t have to go on late,” Cassie laughs, bargaining. “Just an hour? I’m sure the rest of my friends would love to have you there.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, shaking my head, “but I can’t. I’ve still got a ton of work I need to catch up on. Maybe some other time, yeah?”
“Okay,” she says, still very merry. “I’ll let you know the next time we’re having one, I guess. Don’t be a stranger, Hunter.”
“Never,” I say, and hang up the phone. I stare at it for a long time before setting it down and running a hand through my hair. When have I ever turned down that kind of an opportunity? I would never have said no before… but that was before meeting my beautiful stepsister.
I don’t sleep well that night. For a while I can’t even get to sleep because my mind’s still racing with the implications of everything that’s happened over the last twenty-four hours. It feels too hot in my room, and eventually I end up stripping off my shirt and flinging the covers off. Eventually I do drift off into an uneasy doze, and when I do, I dream.
Frankie’s here with me in bed, her gorgeous curves perfectly illuminated in the moonlight that’s coming in through the window. She’s naked, and her pert breasts feel perfect in my hands as she straddles me, watching me with those gorgeous, tentative, dark eyes. She leans down to kiss me, and I can feel myself getting hard at the feeling of her on top of me, pulling a hand away from her chest to run my thumb over her cheekbone and brush it across her lips. The tension is too muc
h, and I grab her by the waist, spinning us both on the bed, and before she can say anything I’ve flipped her over, pinning her underneath me. She lets out a surprised gasp that’s enough to drive me crazy, and I kiss a trail down her neck and between her breasts. My mouth moves further down, over her stomach, to the junction between her thighs, which I part slowly with my hands, dipping my head…
Then I wake up, jerking in bed like I’ve been shocked. The sheets are damp with sweat, and in an instant I realize I’m hard. Groaning in frustration, I pull the blanket back over me, burrowing deeper into the bed and hoping a more restful bout of sleep will come to me. I feel almost insane from desire, and I would be lying if I said it didn’t scare me a little.
Usually, I’m good at keeping my cool when there are others around, but here, in my own head, the confusion is hitting me full-force. I’ve never been this hung up on anyone before, especially not someone I’ve only spoken to a handful of times. But I guess that’s the thing about attraction - there’s no logic to it. It’s like magic, and Frankie has me under her spell, whether she knows it or not.
Tomorrow’s going to be an interesting one, that much is obvious.
I’m surprised to discover that I’m actually able to get some work done today, which is a relief, considering how many unanswered voicemails were piling up on my phone. I spend most of the morning at the dining room table, typing away at my laptop and trying to get as much done as I can before we go to Gertie’s house. Fueled by coffee, I end up satisfied with what I’ve accomplished. By the time Dad comes downstairs and tells me to start getting ready to go, I’m ready to pull the plug for the day and see what new adventure one Frankie Fordham has in store for me.
I usually don’t put too much effort into my appearance when I’m not going to a party or a business event. I’m aware that I’m good-looking - it’s not a matter of cockiness, just self-assuredness - and generally I don’t feel the need to get dressed up for anything other than the most fancy of occasions.
Today, though, I find myself struggling to decide what to wear, what cologne to put on, and how to style my hair. I know I’m being ridiculous, reminding myself of my mom back when she was getting ready for a date with some douchebag after her divorce. Eventually I settle on a t-shirt and dark jeans, going for a cool, casual look. After finger-combing my hair and spritzing myself with a little Drakkar Noir, I go outside to the driveway, where Dad is leaning against the Range Rover.
He raises his eyebrows at me.
“I wasn’t expecting you to look this good. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I say, smiling. “Have to make a good second impression, isn’t that what they say?”
“Something like that,” he replies. “Come on, let’s head out.”
It’s astonishing how turned on I can feel myself getting just from the anticipation of going over to Frankie’s place. Keeping my hands off her is going to be a challenge, but I think at this point even just getting to see her and talk to her again would be enough for me. Not that I would mind if something else happened, though.
I should probably be more freaked out about the fact that my dad is marrying her mom, I think as we turn off the highway and into Gertie’s neighborhood. But for some reason, I’m not. I know that the idea of falling in love with my step-sister is weird, and probably a bit of a turn-off for most people, but for some reason, the risk of it makes it even more sexy to me. I’ve never had something like this happen, and between how taboo it all is and the fact that my attraction to her seems to be getting stronger with every hour that passes, the fact that we’ll soon be legally related couldn’t be further from my mind.
It’s not long before we pull up outside a quaint, colonial-style house. It’s not as big as ours, but it has its own charm, and besides, it’s not the house that matters. It’s the person inside.
Dad shuts off the engine, gives me one last appraising look, and then nods and climbs out. I follow him, shielding my eyes from the midday sun as we walk up the driveway to the front door. George rings the doorbell, and we wait with our hands in our pockets as the sound of footsteps draws closer. My heart’s racing, and I can hardly believe this is happening. Alpha male Hunter Martin is nervous about seeing a girl again.
Eventually the door opens and Gertie pops her head out, her silver head gleaming in the light.
“Right on time,” she says, flashing us a broad smile and taking Dad by the hand. “Come on in. Frankie’s in the living room. I’m sorry if she seems a little nervous to you,” she says in a hushed voice. “I don’t know what’s gotten into her, but things are going to be fine.”
My dad pats her arm reassuringly.
“Of course things are going to be fine, Gert. You’re a wonderful mother, and your daughter is just like you. Don’t worry about a thing.”
But as I trail George and Gertrude into the living room, my heart’s racing as my senses flare. I’m going to see Frankie again, and this time, the curvy girl and I are going to talk.
7
Frankie
I guess I should be thankful that I slept well the night after the party, because I spend the following night tossing and turning. I keep going in circles, thinking first of the party, then of seeing Hunter again, and then of what happened in the parking lot after the meal. This is all overshadowed by the knowledge that Hunter is soon going to be related to me - legally, anyway - and that just makes it so much more complicated. All the while, I’m trying to parse through my feelings for the guy, which is difficult, considering how little I know about him, aside from the fact that he’s great in bed and drop-dead gorgeous.
I’ve never been the object of someone's desires before - at least, as far as I know. I was always the quiet, shy girl back in school. I was never the one boys had crushes on. I was never the popular girl, and even though the same could be said for Jenny, she’s different, somehow. I think maybe her promiscuity and carefree attitude made up for the fact that she wasn’t the queen bee back when we were growing up. Either way, it’s way easier to picture her getting it on with a mysterious stranger at a crazy party, especially considering that she likes to push the envelope in her social life. That was never me.
At least, I thought it wasn’t. But it’s clear that Hunter’s into me, even if I’m not totally sure why. Come to think of it, maybe he’s not totally sure, either. But no one, not even someone as daring as he is, would risk getting caught with his hand in his soon-to-be-stepsister’s panties, especially with his dad mere feet away, unless he thought it was worth it. What was he thinking?
It’s strange, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t dangerously attracted to him as well. My mind keeps returning to the sensations he made me feel, and the way he looked at me. Like I was the only girl in the world. Like he wanted to know all my secrets, as if looking at me long enough would allow him to find out. And for all I know, maybe it does.
I sleep in fitful bouts, my head spinning, unable to get comfortable as I think about the implications of all of this. Hunter and his dad are coming over, and after the dinner last night I can tell that Mom is wondering what’s wrong with me. She’s been married before, and even though I’ve never had a step-sibling prior to this, I’ve always forced myself to be sociable with her boyfriends.
My recalcitrance is out of character, and I know Gertrude senses it, but she can’t possibly know why. Maybe I can just chalk it up to the fact that I’ve never had a step-brother before. But will she buy it? Will she wonder if this has anything to do with the fact that he’s undeniably handsome and successful? The last thing I need is her asking questions, especially when I feel like I might let something slip at any minute.
Normally I sleep in late during the summer, but the next morning I find myself waking up at ten a.m. with a blooming panic in the pit of my stomach. How am I supposed to face another get-together with George and Hunter? The worst part is that this is only the beginning. On the off-chance that Mom actually stays with this guy, I’ll be stuck keeping this secre
t, possibly forever. How are we supposed to pretend to be normal step-siblings after everything that’s happened?
I get up and brush my teeth grimly. Oh shit, I look so frazzled today with my hair out to there and a pallor to my skin. I don’t feel like eating breakfast, which is also a rare thing for me, and that’s enough to prove that I need to talk to someone about this. But there’s only one person I can talk to, and all I can do is pray that Jenny will pick up her phone when I go into the backyard and dial her number. I take a seat on the glider as it rings, staring out at the cloudless blue sky and wondering, not for the first time, how the hell I ended up in this situation.
I could almost cry with relief when I hear the sound of her voice.
“Hey, girl. What’s up?” she asks, her mouth full of food. I begin to reply, but she cuts me off. “Wait, wait, wait. Don’t tell me. It’s about the hottie from the other night, right? Let me guess: you want his number. Well, I hate to break it to you, Frankie, but you’re out of luck in that department. Although maybe I could call Cassie and ask her…”
“Jenny,” I say, “Jenny, hang on a second. That’s not why I’m calling you.”
“Really?” She sounds surprised. “You just seemed super confused about the whole thing yesterday.”
“I was,” I reply. “I am, I mean. I’m still confused. More confused, actually. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Really?” I can practically hear the intrigue in her voice. “Do tell, girlfriend. You know I’m always here for you.”
I sigh, closing my eyes momentarily.
“You’re not going to believe this,” I tell her, trying to psych myself up to deliver the news. Somehow, revealing this to someone else makes the whole thing feel more real. “Like, seriously. This is just plain crazy. There’s no other way to say it.”
“Well, quit drawing it out, already!” Jenny mumbles as something crunches in the background, sounding impatient. “You know I live for gossip. What is it? Is he married or something? Are you pregnant?”