Coach Andrews ticks off a check box on the tablet, then turns it off.
“Thump, Twink isn’t going to play anymore for the Wasps,” he begins.
My eyes widen with shock.
Surely, he wasn’t hurt that badly by the Frenchman?
“He was in surgery, but he’s going to be okay. At least, he’ll be able to walk ok, after some therapy,” the Coach tells me.
I can see he’s upset.
“What’s the matter, Coach?” I ask.
“Twink’s college career is most likely over, at least in sports, Thump,” he says, sadly.
My balls shrink into my body.
What the hell?
“What happened? Why?” I ask.
It seems impossible!
Twink Niles is the best quarterback the Wasps have had in a decade.
His GPA alone could guarantee him a spot on any Top-Ten roster, and the fact he came to play for the Wasps wasn’t lost on the team, or the college administrators.
In fact, the President of the University came to him after his first winning game and told everyone how lucky we were to have such a tremendous talent on our team.
Twink was that rare scholastic football player, destined to go far, both on the field and off.
He was a true leader, and took the time to invest in the team, so that we would all succeed.
Sure, his Dad has money, and a thriving law business, but Twink got as far as he did on his own merits, by all accounts.
How could something so goddamned random like this derail his dreams?
Or, at least change the trajectory of his choices?
“We reviewed the tapes, and the Frenchman, uh, you know, Rusty Torneau, that is, he didn’t do anything illegal. It seems it was all an accident. No foul on the play,” Coach Andrews says.
“Twink’s father says the victory party is still on, over to the estate, so we’re going to get a bus for you guys, and then hire some rideshares to get you all back to wherever, so you can enjoy a little well-deserved R and R,” he said, grinning.
He notices all the cheerleaders and others outside, and smiles.
“Your fans are waiting, Thump!” he says, laughing.
“Don’t wear it out all at once, pal!” he adds with a wink.
If only he knew that there is room for only one woman in my world.
And, it’s the one woman I can never have.
Beatrice, my step-sister.
—————
I sigh, and walk over to where Stinger is still goofing around with Travis and the others.
“Come on, brosefs,” I goof.
I know they hate that pretentious hipster shit, so I lay it on thick.
“Yo, dudes, let’s par-tay! Whoo-hooooo!” I yell.
“Bring on the bitches, yo!” jokes Brian.
We all know he’s one-hundred percent gay.
They all whistle and holler back, and finally we gather ourselves up and walk into the adoring crowd.
—————
Bee is standing out there, I see immediately.
She’s next to Dad and Mom, and they chat for a minute, and then Dad and Mom walk over to a concession stand, for a pop.
Mom’s got this food thingy, where if she gets dehydrated or not enough sugar, she’ll feel dizzy.
I notice a guy in a suit, next to the Frenchman, next to where Mom and Dad and Bee were standing.
They give me the creeps, the way the two of them look over at the Wasps, and then nod their heads.
Old Frenchie’s nose and face are all bandaged up.
Good.
Lousy fucker, he should burn in Hell for what he did to Twink.
I make a mental note to tell Stinger he didn’t go far enough.
Maybe, in the playoffs, I’ll get a chance to set the record even.
See you on the field Frenchie, old Son, I think.
—————
CHAPTER TWENTY
THUMPER
Stinger has Cindy Foster hanging from his lower lip, her red hair cascading down her back, as she bites his face off.
Well, maybe it’s not all that bad, but from where I sit, I can tell Bee isn’t happy about it at all.
—————
It’s funny, really.
I know Bee has feelings for my brother.
It’s kind of an open secret, actually.
We got her a bit toasted one night when Mom and Dad were out to some Farm Bureau function or something.
We stole a six-pack of beer, and each of us drank one.
Stinger was ok, and I felt pretty good, but Bee got pretty squiffed.
We were sitting around, joking and goofing off, when Bee got all serious, and crept over to Stinger.
She put an arm around him, and then kissed his nose.
“I love you, Keith,” she confessed.
Then, she hiccupped.
We all were laughing and feeling really good.
She kissed Keith, again, only this time, it was a real kiss.
Then, she slithered over to me, across the rug, and grabbed me by the head and slammed me with a great kiss as well.
And, suddenly, she started to cry, and Keith and I got a bit freaked out.
“What’s wrong, Honeybee?” Keith asked her.
“This! Us! I love you both, but I can’t do anything with you! We’re steps!” she wailed.
She cried long enough that Keith and I lost our buzz.
The next day, she played it off as happening because she was drunk.
But, I knew better.
I think Stinger was jokingly dismissive of the whole thing, too.
Except, a couple weeks later, he was talking in his sleep.
And, what he was saying was pretty enlightening.
“I love you too, Bea,” he whispered in his slumber.
“And I want to marry you,” he finished.
Of course, it’s all just silly talk.
Except I can’t forget what it felt like when Bee kissed me.
I want to have that feeling forever.
—————
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
THUMPER
Now, Stinger is pushing Rachel Franchetti’s tongue out of his mouth with his own tongue.
Oops! It slipped back in!
There it goes again!
Man, he really isn’t too observant about Bea, now is he?
Cindy comes by, and she’s all smiles.
“Hey, Thumper!” she says.
“Want to thump me? I’ll thump you hard; so hard,” she says, her eyes almost closed, and then grabs my face and latches on like an alien face hugger.
I don’t mind one bit, to be honest.
She’s got a really nice flavor, even if Stinger’s been all over her mouth recently.
But, there’s none of that passion I glimpsed from kissing Bea.
“Mmmm! That’s really nice, Thumper,” she purrs.
Cindy is sharp, and hot, and probably has fucked most of the team members except me and Stinger.
But, she’s really not all that bad.
“Say, why is your nickname Thumper, anyway?” she asks, all of a sudden very interested.
I tell her the usual lie.
“It’s because I thump the shit out of enemy players!” I laugh.
She giggles, and I swat her pert ass.
Cindy’s nipples are rock-hard.
I idly think about how it would feel to rub the tip of my dick over them, but then feel mildly ashamed, because there’s my stepsister, Beatrice.
Right over there…looking like someone pissed in her root beer.
I try to remain impartial about the whole situation.
But, ever since she came into our lives, it’s been a real struggle for me to hide my true feelings.
Especially after that kiss…
—————
Bea haunts my dreams, and lives in my most intimate fantasies.
I’ve lost count of how many times I beat off to thoughts of
her doing things to me, and with me.
I want to feel her lips around my cock, I want to kiss her innermost parts, and slide into her; make her lose her mind, calling my name as we fuck endlessly.
I want to caress and squeeze her breast and plump ass, and run my fingers through her long hair.
I want all of that, and I am certain that the sex will be mind-bending.
But, it’s not just sex, either.
—————
Stinger and I truly care for Bea, and want her to be happy.
She doesn’t know, but we have a pact, that any asshole who isn’t good enough for her will be sent packing, in no time at all.
So far, we’re six for six.
Each time the dude crossed the line, we took him out for a soda, or a beer, and let him know the real score.
After that, they would come up with some excuse, and break it off with her.
Mostly, she thought it was just they weren’t meant to be.
That it was a bad fit, or something.
We made sure to let them know to be VERY careful in letting her down.
Because, they were on thin ice as it were.
And, if they did anything to further make it difficult, there would be repercussions.
—————
One guy, this biker-type, didn’t get the hint.
Too bad for him.
Stinger and I met him and two of his buddies down to the bar, one Friday evening.
When we walked into the bar, we sat down.
Although that one guy, Charles, turned out to be gay, so we sort of don’t really count him…
—————
More kisses from more random girls, and Bea is about ready to launch into orbit.
She’s actually changing color!
I tap Stinger on the shoulder, and we walk over to her.
“Party at Niles!” shouts someone.
“What’s the matter, Honeybee?” says Stinger.
“Yeah, you look like you swallowed a lemon, Bee,” I say to her.
“You too sure eat up the hero-worship, don’t you?” she says, sarcastically.
“Well, I think we are heroes, don’t you, Sirrah?” says Stinger.
“Quite so, quite so, old man. Tut tut and whatnot, old Bean!” I say.
We launch into our old ‘Stiff Upper Lip’ routine.
“Cheerio! James Bond! Webley!” shouts Stinger.
“Bentley, Rolls and God Save the Queen!” I shout back.
Then, we both yell out, together, “Your Royal Majesty!”
We mock salute, and take a deep bow towards Bea.
It’s an old bit we still do, from the time we were just kids.
One of those ‘twin’ things…
Bea gives us a look, like we’re all kinds of stupid.
She rolls her eyes at us, and I look at Stinger and he looks at me.
What the fuck?
We’re practically telepathic in our disappointment that our ‘act’ didn’t make Bea smile, the way is always has.
Our mutual hangdog looks must have found some corner of pity in the cold darkness of Bea’s heart, or something for she suddenly rolls her eyes and gets into the teapot formation.
“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” Bea practically whispers.
“The guards are changing at Buckingham palace!” she shouts.
Yahoo!
The game is afoot, once more!
“Christopher Robin’s gone out with Alice!” Stinger and I both shout.
“PSHAWWWW!” we all three yell, and stick our tongues out at each other.
The crowd of fans and players and cheerleaders around us think we’re crazy, but fuck them.
We’re all laughing, and I notice we’re all hugging each other in a group hug.
I feel all warm, and like I am at home.
Safe.
Then, Stinger kisses Bea.
They kiss for a lot longer than I would have thought was familial, and then I realize that the joke isn’t a joke after all.
He really DOES love her!
And she really DOES love him!
I watch their faces as they look into each other’s’ eyes.
The looks on their faces of utter peace and contentment, the sharing of souls that so rarely is witnessed by another, and I can see all of it.
I can smell the fire burning, I can sense the intense, blazing heat of their contained passions.
My senses are ablaze on their own, as I glean every little detail; their joyous countenances being etched indelibly in my mind.
The way the wind moves her hair, near her left eye.
The way he grips her, gently yet tightly, and refuses to let her go.
How she fights against her nature, and tries like hell to not surrender to the moment.
I see Stinger’s smile, then confusion, then alarm, as he turns to face me.
I see the look of utter horror on his face as he realizes what he’s done in front of everyone.
Then, they fly apart, almost like they were magnets of the same pole, repelled away from each other like a force of nature.
And, over in the background, I see the guy in a suit, with the Frenchman, watching us like hawks.
—————
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
STINGER
David-Keith and I have done our stupid little act, and it failed to get the desired response from Bea.
Then, somehow, the air changes, and she realizes how absurd it all is, and deigns to join in our nostalgic reverie.
She makes like she’s a teapot, and then recites her lines, and the world comes back into its correct orbit.
I end up hugging her and David-Keith, and the three of us feel as natural as rain, and the wind, and the sun.
Bea’s smile is captivating, as I look in her eyes.
Thumper drifts away from my focus, as I look at Bea’s green eyes, radiant and beautiful.
I can see her nostrils flaring slightly, and the way her mouth relaxes.
Such a nice mouth, firm and round, and juicy, a small little tiny strand of saliva in one corner.
I just want one little kiss, like the one’s Cindy and Rachel and all the others have given me.
Just a flirtatious kiss.
Just.
One.
Little.
Tiny.
Kiss.
—————
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
BEA
What is happening?
What is happening?
Why do I feel this way?
What is this?
Is this heaven?
Why?
Why?
Who is this man, where did he come from?
Why is this happening to me? To us?
It’s wrong! It’s wrong, so wrong so wrong wrong wrong wrong….
Oh, Jesus!
Oh, my God!
OH MY PRECIOUS LORD WHAT IN THE FUCK IS THIS?
Oh, God, am I having an orgasm, right fucking now!
No! NO! NOOOO!
I can’t, it’s not meant to be, it’s impossible…
No, god no god no god
Oh, God!
It feels SOOOO GOOOOD!
YESSSSSSSS!!!!
Oh, God, I’m cumming…I’m cummmmmmm…..
Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!
Don’t stop it! Please don’t ever let it end!
Stinger (The Mandarin Connection Book 7) Page 6