The Good Sister: Part One

by London Saint James

  “What?”

  “I never told you congratulations. You finally made it out of high school.”

  “Oh … thanks,” I squeaked.

  I pushed my glasses up my nose with my index finger. I kept my chin down while my gaze stayed firmly planted upon the bed in front of me.

  I started counting the threads stitched within the comforter.

  Reid stalked forward. My heart pounded, and I felt a familiar flushing heat overtake my body as he approached. Reid stopped inches from my back, leaned in, and inhaled my scent before placing his mouth to my ear. I lost my thread count somewhere around forty-two.

  “Did you like the show?”

  His hot breath tinted with mint gusted across my cheek.

  “What?”

  Reid reached out, brushed back my long, more than likely out of control curls. A shiver shot through me from his touch. He smirked.

  “Trinity…” he crooned, “it’s okay.”

  “What’s okay?”

  “I know you’re curious. I don’t mind if you want to watch me. It’s kind of hot, knowing someone is watching me. Did you like it? Did it make you wet, watching me come?”

  I inched forward, away from him.

  “Reid, I don’t know what you are talking about.”

  “Oh, you know, baby bird,” he assured. He moved forward, and I stepped back. “If you want to watch me, I will let you.”

  “Reid…” I tried to find my backbone, stand my ground. “Um-uh-I—”

  “Trinity, just ask, don’t stutter.”

  I closed my eyes. “Why do you always call me baby bird?”

  He gave one of my curls a brush of his hand and removed it from my forehead. “Because, you’ve never learned how to spread your wings and fly away.”

  In other words I was helpless, innocent, stuck at home, hidden away from the world; I got it. I frowned, felt my nose crinkle before I opened my eyes. Reid blocked me between the large window to my right, the oversized chair to my left, the bed in front of me, and his body to the back of me. Trapped, with nowhere to run.

  I glanced over to see Reid staring at me. I felt guilty, but decided to lie.

  “I wasn’t in your room. I didn’t see anything.”

  Reid let out a breathy low laugh. He placed his nose into the crook of my neck. “My room smells like you, baby bird. Soft French Vanilla and floral,” he confirmed before he traced his nose over the surface of my neck, smelling. Goose bumps splayed across my skin. I sucked in my breath, holding it. “I like how you smell. Tempting, so ... tempting.” I visibly shook. “Don’t worry. It will be our little secret. No one needs to know.”

  Perhaps this was how the fly felt caught up within the spider’s web. Reid possessed the ability to scare me with his razor sharp gaze, his intense body language, his low hungry voice, but it was somehow tantalizing at the same time.

  “There’s nothing to know,” I protested, once again closing my eyes because I was a weakling within his presence.

  I heard a breathy, “Hmm.” Reid moved closer. So close I experienced the heat of his body upon mine. “You could be pretty if you lost these glasses.” He reached out and pulled them from my nose, and placed them on the bed. “Look at me,” he demanded.

  “Why?”

  “I want to see your eyes.”

  “I don’t…” I started to object. Reid reached out, turned me around, placed his hand beneath my chin, and lifted. “Um.” His liquid silver eyes met me, and I felt weak in the knees.

  “Whoa,” he said as he took a hold of my elbow to steady me, “you okay?”

  I blinked. “Ah huh.”

  “Look at me.” He lifted my chin again. This time he gazed deeply into my eyes. I thought I might die. “See,” he murmured, “you have beautiful eyes. Deep, rich green.”

  I tried to pull away.

  “No, don’t.” Reid traced his hand over my cheek, moving more curls before sliding his fingertips down my cheekbones, outlining the shape of them. “You have a pretty face, it’s just hid beneath all of your hair, those horrible glasses, and you never look at anyone. You keep this pointed little chin tucked down.” Reid’s fingers outlined my jaw, my chin.

  “Um…” I lost myself to the sound of his voice, and the touch of his skin against mine.

  “Such a pretty neck,” he continued. His hands roamed over the curve until he hit the bend of my shoulder. He moved more curls before clutching some of the miscreant strands into his hand.

  Heat filled my cheeks. I imagined they blazed.

  Reid’s hand rested, palm against my cheek. He stroked the pad of his thumb across the center of my lips. I trembled. His thumb nudged, persuaded my lips to part. He rode the swell of my bottom lip. The corners of his mouth twitched before turning up into a seductive smile.

  My usually pale face burned, as though his touch seared my skin, hitting the bone beneath. I wished I held the power he held. The confidence. The boldness. I didn’t want to be standing there embarrassed, flushed, timid, and scared. I wanted to be the one in control. The woman who would bring him to his knees. I wanted…

  Reid moved his hands over my shoulders, gliding his fingertips down my arms, sending goose bumps raging again. He slid his hands to my breasts. I stiffened, my body and nipples going rigid. Reid cupped both of them within the palm of his large hands. A buzz walloped me. My lungs burned in glistening shimmers, pulling in the air with a gasp. No one had ever touched me like this.

  “And these.” He gave a gentle squeeze. “Why do you hide them behind all of these clothes?”

  “I—” I welded my eyes closed.

  “Trinity. Don’t close your eyes. Look at me.” My eyes fluttered open. Reid’s face looked different, ravenous. He licked his lips. “I bet your breasts are beautiful. Creamy white with rosebud tips.”

  For a split second I considered I may be in an alternative universe or maybe this was a dream, which seemed real or maybe surreal. What do I do? I came up with no real plan of attack. I’d always wanted Reid to touch me, but now, I wasn’t sure I liked it. Well, that’s not completely true because I liked it. I didn’t know how to like it without coming across as a weirdo.

  I twisted out of his hold, closed my eyes, and dropped my head again. My hands tangled so tight into the bottom hem of my shirt I felt my nails press into the bed of my palms.

  Reid tapped my hand. “Relax. I won’t hurt you.” I stopped the intense death grip I’d imparted upon my shirt.

  “I-I—”

  “Trinity, have I ever hurt you?”

  I mumbled. “No.”

  “You like watching me, but when you have my attention you are afraid of me. Why are you afraid?”

  “I’m not.”

  I’m not. It was more like intimidation. Reid intimidated me. Then there was my own anxiety and fear. I worried about so many things it was hard to pinpoint my exact fear when it came to Reid. I wasn’t good enough. I didn’t possess the qualities of a desirable woman. I had anxiety about being with a man, not knowing how to touch a man. I was afraid my thoughts, my ideas, my fantasies were wrong. I feared what he made me feel, and knew he would break my heart. But most of all I lived in terror that he would leave, and I’d never see him again.

  “Look at me.” I looked up. “Trinity, have you ever been with a man?”

  I bit my bottom lip, hard.

  “Stop,” he said. He ran his finger over my mouth. “You are going to draw blood.”

  I relaxed my bite.

  “There,” he soothed, still tracing his index finger over the lines of my lips.

  “Reid, why are you doing this?” My question came out in a whisper.

  “You don’t need to fret, Trinity. It’s a simple question. All you need to say is, ‘yes or no’.”

  He was definitely torturing me.

  “Yes or no,” he pressed.

  I took in a deep breath, kept my eyes open but diverted them as I confessed, “No.”

  “Have you ever been kissed?” he inquir
ed, his face passive.

  “No.”

  Reid placed his mouth inches from mine. I stood there like a lifeless statue. Reid pulled back. He placed his fingertips to my pulse. It had to be vibrating wildly against his flesh. I licked my lips, nervously.

  He won’t.

  “Can I kiss you, Trinity?”

  “I—” My sentence was stopped by his warm mouth. I stiffened.

  Oh God, he did.

  He stepped back, and swiped his mouth over mine in a slow side to side motion. “Relax your mouth, and follow my lead.”

  Reid leaned in and placed his mouth to mine once more, swaying his lips from side to side, flicking his tongue out to ride the line of my lips, and working my mouth open a little at a time.A tingle zipped over my mouth. The sensation overflowed to every pinpoint in my body where I imagined Reid’s touch. Somehow, he held the ability to bring nerve endings to life.

  He kissed the corner of my mouth in a whisper soft kiss. Slid his mouth overtop of mine. Softly, he kissed the other corner before centering on the middle. He licked. Nibbled. I melted. Parted my lips with a gasp. He took full advantage, and twisted his tongue along my tongue. My body gave way to him.

  Reid drew me one step forward, took me into his arms, and fully kissed my lips. I gave over my control.

  Do something, stupid.

  I moved my hands to his shoulders, then slipped them down to his biceps, my taut body willing against his. He tested me, lashing me harder with his tongue. I responded with a small whimper.

  Reid’s hand secured me. He kissed me longer, harder, before flowing his hands down my back. I quaked within his arms. Reid moved one hand. It splayed between my shoulder blades. The other hand moved down to the small of my back, riding my body dangerously low. I felt his fingers inch lower until his hand slid over my ass. In the next moment he pulled me into him, tighter.

  I felt hot, cold, lust, apprehension, wanting, need, fear, tingles, but I pushed back the fear. My hands wrapped around his tight waist. My fingers explored. I strummed my fingers along the contours of his bare back. Lingered. Felt the power of his muscles. Experienced the length of his spine, but found I couldn’t focus on everything. It was system overload. The strength of his arms around me. The sensation of his bare flesh against my hands. The smell of his fresh clean skin. The hardness of his body, and his manhood as it pressed into my stomach. I knew the firmness of his hands. The softness of his kiss. The taste of him. The swaying of his tongue with mine…. I couldn’t decide what to focus on. I forgot to breathe. My head spun. My body gave. I slid down his rock hard frame as limp as a wet noodle.

  “Trinity,” Reid called. “Trinity, are you okay?”

  I opened my eyes to find myself cradled in Reid’s arms, perched on his parent’s bed, and filled with the knowledge I was indeed a complete and total loser. Oh yes, loser with a capital L. Who the hell forgets how to breathe and faints from a kiss? I was glad Reid couldn’t hear my thoughts.

  “Are you okay?” Reid asked again. I straightened up. Tugged away from him.

  “Yes,” I spluttered, finding my feet and getting to them. “I’m sorry,” I said as tears filled my eyes. They threatened to overflow in a torrent of conflicting emotions.

  “Listen, it’s okay, really,” Reid assured. “Don’t worry so much, and please don’t cry.”

  “Why? Why did you do that?”

  “Do you mean why did I kiss you?”

  “Yes.”

  “I wanted to.”

  I blinked, holding out my hand toward him. “Can I have my glasses back?”

  He reached over to the foot of the bed, grabbed my big-rimmed glasses, and handed them to me. I took the glasses into an unsteady hand before I placed them back onto my face then pushed them up my nose with my index finger. My always wild, unfettered curls swirled around my face and neck. I wanted to cry, but I lifted the set of my chin and spoke in a matter-of-fact tone.

  “I promised my mother I would help her. I have to get this bed stripped or she will be up here yelling at me.”

  Reid’s expression looked surprised. “You’re mad,” he said, getting to his feet.

  “No, just busy,” I huffed then crossed my arms and turned my back to him.

  “No … you are mad,” he confirmed. “You wanted to kiss me, Trinity.”

  I snorted at him, and I did it out loud.

  “How can you be so sure?” I asked, still holding my chin up, arms crossed, but flipping around on my heels to look at him, defiant.

  One dark brow rose upon Reid’s face in question.

  “Listen, I’ll help you. That way you don’t get yelled at by Mrs. Winslow for not doing your job.”

  I almost broke a smile at the offer. I knew Reid had probably never stripped a bed in his life, but I was more than mad. I was actually beyond embarrassed. I was probably hitting the realm of dire mortification. I was angry at myself, and to my surprise, angry at Reid. He was playing around with me. He wasn’t serious. I would never be the kind of girl that he would really be interested in. In his eyes, I was probably a curiosity, a shy virgin, a mental mute, a freak. After all, Reid was attracted to girls who were like my sister, bold, beautiful, confident, sexy, wild, sassy, a little mysterious, and a whole lot of game when it came to men. I was shy, awkward, had more fears than you could shake a stick at, and I was definitely not wild. In fact, I knew I wasn’t mysterious, had no experience with men or how to play the game, and knew I wasn’t sassy or beautiful.

  “So are you going to let me help you or just stand there pissed off at me?” Reid huffed.

  For once I did not prevaricate.

  “I believe I am going to stand here and be pissed off at you,” I snapped back.

  Wow, I wondered where that bit of moxie came from.

  Reid chuckled. “Okay,” he said as he turned to walk out.

  I stood quietly for a moment. Reid confused me, excited me, worried me, enticed me, made me smile, made me cry, made me hope, made me deny, made me feel. Oh how he made me feel, but most of all, no matter what he did, Reid never saw me, not really. I knew I was a ghost drifting through the peripherals of his life. Heck, I was a ghost drifting through my own life, if you could call my existence a life.

  Just a ghost, I thought.

  Chapter Two

  Two years earlier.

  “Bentley. Trinity. You girls stop dawdling and help me with these boxes. They won’t move themselves,” my mother bellowed as she heaved a box out of the trunk of the Toyota.

  I was too busy looking at our new home, taking in all the lush greenery not to mention the house that looked like a mansion located to the south of us. I’d never seen such a beautiful home before. And even though the guesthouse was tiny, compared to the main house, it was so much better than the one room apartment we were living in a week ago.

  My thoughts wandered as they usually did. I thought upon my life before, wondering if that life was somehow a dream. It was hazy, unfocused, playing out like a scratchy movie, unreal in so many ways. Sometimes I even confused what I believed to be my memories with my dreams, never really sure if I could separate the two completely or where the reality ended and the dream began.

  We once had everything, nothing like the Addison’s Hollywood Hills estate of course, but more than most. I contemplated my old room. I never needed to share a space with my sister. I thought on how things changed after our father died. I knew most of our heartache, including our current financial woes, was in part, due to me.

  I closed my eyes and felt the warm breeze. I mulled over how pieces and parts of my family’s life were sold off like secondhand memories to the highest bidder. Inside my head I heard, going once, going twice, sold… and all because of my frequent stays in the hospital, the numerous visits to the shrinks, the lengthy stays in the nuthouse, and the battle my mother waged with the life insurance company who went bankrupt, leaving us no lifeline to cling to.

  I glanced up. Squinted. Traced a large branch on one of the many trees.
I noticed how it reached out into the outlying trees and formed a maze, a canopy. I moved under the cover. I would focus on this, not the past or thoughts of money, home or our lack of either.

  The sunlight danced through the leaves, forming patches of light and shade artwork on the tall grass canvas below. The breeze blew, the artwork changed before my very eyes. I focused my attention above once more, and heard a rustling in the trees. Melodious sounds filled the air.

  The birds are even happy here.

  “Trinity, look,” Bentley said under her breath, nudging my arm, breaking through my reverie.

  I glanced in the direction Bentley indicated with the lift of her chin, to see the most stunning boy walking in our direction. Immediately, I tucked tail and ran. On my way, I grabbed a box before catching up to my mother who was entering the door to our new home. I hurried, and located the room that I would be sharing with my sister, put the cardboard box down, found the window, pulled back the lace curtain, and watched.

  He was wearing khaki cargo shorts with a white T-shirt embossed with a surfing logo. His feet were adorned in Doc Martin sandals, and his skin, the color of golden bronze. A slow smile stretched across his perfect angular features. His silver eyes widened as he looked at my sister.

  He scrubbed along his sideburn with his fingers. The breeze disrupted his hair. The color reminded me of black liquorish. He turned. The sun glinted off the metal in his ear. The leaves from the trees rustled then gave way to the sun, which mixed into the shade to dapple his face in astonishing contrast. This cast his features into chiseled perfection.

  I quietly slid the window open to hear….

  “Hey, I’m Reid,” he said, extending his hand out to greet Bentley.

  Bentley took his hand, smiled. “Bentley,” she replied.

  “You’re early, Bentley. We didn’t expect you until tomorrow.”

  Reid’s voice was low, deep, and completely sexy.

  Bentley shifted her weight enough so her ample cleavage was clearly visible beneath her white cotton sundress.

  “Yeah, well, I guess it’s your lucky day, Reid. It’s nice to be surprised sometimes.”