by Sky Corgan
How he really is? The way Shawn words it makes a cold chill roll down my spine. He's implying that Tristan is usually an asshole. That what I saw in the car was the real thing. That everything up to this point has been an act.
“He had a moment,” I say firmly. I have to believe that.
“He has a lot of moments.” Shawn leans back, stretching his arms out.
“I shouldn't have asked about Kelly.” I twist the top off my bottle of water.
“No. You shouldn't have.” He looks at me, and I can feel his eyes boring into me.
“He said he killed her. Is it true?” My body tenses as I ask the question.
“No.”
Relief rushes through me at the answer. I had thought it was a lie. Thank God, I was right.
“So tell me what happened?” I glance over at him, feeling a bit vulnerable. He's staring at me, but there's no emotion behind his eyes.
“Kelly killed herself,” the words come out as casually as if Shawn was talking about the weather.
“Why?” I furrow my brows.
“Because Tristan's not whole.” There's a sadness in his tone that's misplaced. It should have been there when he told me about Kelly. This is for his brother though. He didn't care about Kelly. He cares about his brother.
“What do you mean he's not whole?”
“You've seen the way he gets.” Shawn shifts his weight. “The kid isn't right in the head. He hasn't been right for a long time. He's not stable like I am.” He glances at me when he says it.
“Has he gone to counseling?” I ask hesitantly.
“He's still going to counseling. They can't help him though. Change only happens when you want it to.” He shakes his head. “Don't get me wrong though. Tristan has his own way of coping with things. It's not the most conventional way, but it's his.”
“He copes by yelling at people.” I mean to huff, but I end up hiccuping instead. The memory of Tristan getting angry at me rushes back like a foul wind. Is that really what I have to look forward to if I stay with him?
“As I said, he's not the most stable person. I thought you needed to know the truth though. He's not capable of talking about it without something like . . . that happening.” His eyes scour my face sympathetically.
“I wish Ethel and I were like you and Tristan.” I look down and fidget with my fingers. Our relationship has gotten better since I started seeing Tristan, but I keep feeling like it's only a matter of time before we revert back to our old ways.
Actually, now that I think about it, maybe Shawn and I aren't so different after all. Ethel is unstable. I'm the level-headed one.
“Want to watch a movie?” Shawn asks, catching me off-guard.
“A movie?” I parrot back stupidly.
“Yeah. It gets lonely around here without Trist.” He gives me a hopeful look.
It's strange how in a matter of a few minutes, I've begun to relax around him. I'm still a bit wary, considering what happened in the shower, but I don't think he's quite the bad boy that he tries to project himself to be.
“A movie.” I nod. “Alright, I think I can do that.”
“Great. I'm going to go get changed. You pick something for us to watch.” He stands and hands me the remote before leaving me alone to turn on the television and flip through the channels.
I take my shoes off and kick my feet up onto the sofa, trying to get comfortable as I search for something we'll both enjoy. It's hard to focus though when my mind is stuck on everything that Shawn just told me about Tristan. Will we ever be able to talk about Kelly without Tristan going off on me? He can't keep allowing the memory of what happened to destroy him. It's obvious that there's so much pain attached to it.
I want to help Tristan heal, but I'm not sure how. More than that, I'm not sure if I'm emotionally prepared for being pushed away every time he gets in a bad mood. It's a bit heartbreaking. He was so perfect. I knew that wasn't true though. No one is perfect. Everyone has skeletons in their closet—problems. His will directly affect me emotionally though, and from what Shawn said, Kelly probably isn't the only thing he'll go off on me about. If we stay together, I'll have to learn his triggers. I'll have to learn how to avoid them.
It's Sunday, so there's nothing good on TV. Five minutes have passed, and I know Shawn will be back soon, so I need to settle on something. The only thing I actually want to watch is a Nicholas Sparks movie, but it doesn't take a genius to tell that Shawn isn't into romance. That's not the kind of guy he is. He's the seduce and destroy type. Tristan is the good one. Or is he?
I bite my bottom lip as I stare at the screen. Even in the movies, couples have problems. It's getting through them that makes people stronger. My finger lingers on the change channel button, but I don't press it, lost in thought, wondering if Tristan and I will have a happy ending, or if I should just cut all ties now and save myself some grief.
Shawn rounds the corner and tosses himself down on the sofa beside me. My eyes land on delicious naked flesh. He has stripped down to his boxers, though I don't know why. He still has to take me home later.
“Getting a bit too comfortable, don't you think?” I quirk an eyebrow at him.
He glances at me for a moment before taking the remote from my hand and setting it down on the coffee table in front of us. “You'll learn very quickly that I try to wear clothes as little as possible.”
My cheeks brighten at his admission. In all honesty, I like him like this, but it feels horribly wrong for me to think that. I want to be with his brother, don't I? I shouldn't be ogling his beautiful muscular torso.
“We don't have to watch this. I was just flipping through channels.” I shake my head, trying to clear away the perverted thoughts going through my mind.
“We can watch whatever you want. Television on Sundays sucks. This is probably the best thing on.” He leans back, draping his arm over the back of the sofa. My eyes flit from his wrist up to his shoulder, admiring the muscle tone. Shawn catches me looking and smirks. “You like these kinds of movies, don't you?”
“What girl doesn't like romance?” I shift my weight in discomfort.
“Care to cuddle? I know I don't seem like it, but I'm quite the cuddler.”
“No. You definitely don't seem like it,” I laugh. My heart speeds up at his offer. I want to touch him; I know it's wrong though.
“We really shouldn't.” I scrunch up my face.
“It's cuddling, Sarah. It's innocent.” He gives me a sarcastic look.
“Well, if you say so.” I relent, scooting against him and allowing him to wrap his arm around me. He's so solid, so warm, and he smells amazing. I try not to smirk to myself as I think about how both Ethel and Jennifer want him. Now I'm here, cuddled up under his arm, stealing his body heat. My own body is disturbingly aroused just from touching him. This isn't right. I shouldn't be feeling this way.
We watch the movie in silence. Shawn is being surprisingly well-behaved. Occasionally, he rubs my shoulder with the back of his thumb, but that's the only thing he does.
I'm caught between concentrating on the movie and his body. My eyes keep diverting from the screen to look at his tanned stomach or lower. He's wearing blue plaid boxers. I wonder if he plans on changing again before he takes me home. I imagine he would have to.
A romantic scene starts playing, and my heart melts, wishing I had a love so strong. Could Tristan and I be like that someday? Could I eventually heal everything that's wrong with him and make him whole again? Or should I move on to someone else, someone stable who wouldn't hurt me like he has?
I look over at Shawn, staring at his lips. He's so handsome. Maybe a little rough around the edges, but I know he has a good heart. There's a darker side to him, but it's different than Tristan's. I caught a glimpse of it in the shower. A glimpse of the man who knows he's attractive and desirable. A glimpse of the man who knows I want him.
Shawn turns to me. His eyes are hooded, and his expression is somewhere between lust and affection. Damn th
e sappy movie. My emotions and hormones are on the fritz. My clit pulses as his eyes fall to my mouth.
He leans in ever so slowly and hesitates. He's giving me a chance to escape. This isn't the shower at all. If I want to pull away from him, I can. If I want to reject him, now is my chance.
An image of Tristan's face flashes through my mind. I should feel guilty, but I don't. He hurt me. He pushed me away. Shawn was the one who came running after me. Not Tristan. It was supposed to have been Tristan. If he really wanted me, he would have come and apologized on his own.
Our lips meet, and it's like fireworks are shooting off inside my body. This isn't romance though. It's not the same electricity that Tristan's kiss causes. This is lust. It's pure unadulterated desire.
The kiss gets aggressive quickly, but I don't mind. I reciprocate, wrapping my hand around the back of Shawn's head and tangling my fingers in his hair to press my lips firmer against his. Our tongues glide over one another, tasting and dancing and savoring. My body comes to life for him. All for him.
Even though I'm enjoying the kiss, I'm still confused. I know I opened up Pandora's box by allowing him to kiss me, but now I'm wondering if I should close the lid or dive right in. It's too late to pretend this didn't happen. If I push him away now, things will only be awkward, and I don't really want to push him away.
Being with both brothers seems taboo and forbidden. Maybe Shawn was right. Perhaps he will be the sin that I most enjoy. I just have to be willing to cast my morals to the wind and become a sinner.
It feels like my heart and body are fighting an epic battle. My resolve is weak though, and I'm so unsure about Tristan. I've already screwed things up by kissing Shawn. There's no going back now. Only forward.
I slide my hand between his legs, feeling his arousal. Shawn moans into my mouth as I touch him, and I blush in disbelief at my own actions. This isn't me, but I can't stop it. He's so hot. So good.
Shawn breaks free from the kiss, staring at me longingly beneath heavy lashes. He stands and scoops me up in his arms, and I squeal, clutching onto his neck for support as he carries me towards the stairs.
“We shouldn't do this,” I whisper in one last effort to resist him.
He doesn't respond.
Each step toward his bedroom takes me further away from the person I was before I met Tristan. I wonder if I'll regret this. Part of me already does. It's too late for that though. I made up my mind. I reached into the box. I decided to sacrifice my relationship with Tristan for the possibility of something more stable. I can only hope I'm making the right decision. If not . . . I don't want to think about it.
We get upstairs, and he takes a right towards the rooms I haven't been in before. It's no surprise that one of them is his bedroom. Carefully, he maneuvers me so that he can turn the knob and kick the door open. Once we're over the threshold, he sets me down on my feet.
“You could have put me down before you opened the door,” I grumble at him. I was worried he would drop me the entire time, even though he seems pretty solid.
“I was scared you'd run away if I did.” He closes the door behind us. “You're not exactly easy to seduce, you know.”
“Is that what this is, you seducing me?” I smirk, wrapping my arms around his neck and standing on tiptoe to kiss him.
“Actually, I'm beginning to think you're the one who seduced me.” He reaches up to begin unbuttoning my blouse.
Is that what really happened? I wonder. I was making eyes at him. I can't deny that. I practically gave him the invitation to make a move on me. It was all that stupid movie's fault. I want to frown, but my mouth is too occupied with his lips.
I allow him to take my blouse off and unhook my bra. He kisses down my body before he unzips the back of my skirt and slips it off. Then he takes off my panties, my shoes, and stockings.
Once I'm undressed, I pull myself up onto his bed and watch him drop his boxer shorts. This time, I don't look away. I stare at his cock wantonly. It's thick and long and beautiful. Beautiful like the rest of him.
He circles around me and crawls up onto the bed, laying on his back and putting his arms over his head. For a moment, I'm confused. This isn't how I thought things would go with us.
“Getting comfy,” I tease.
“I seem to recall you having a fear of being taken advantage of. This is all you, Sarah. I'm not going to force you to do a thing. If you want me, come get me.” The arrogance returns to his tone. Normally, it would piss me off, but now, it just turns me on more.
My cheeks flush as I drag my fingers across his tufted burgundy comforter. I feel bashful, unsure of whether or not I want to proceed. We both know why I'm here though, and when I glance up at his erect cock, my mouth waters. I wonder if he tastes like Tristan. I wonder if all men taste the same or if there are subtle variances between them. There's only one way to find out.
“Don't just look at it.” He smirks.
It's all the invitation I need. I crawl up beside him and push my ponytail over my shoulder, so he can see my face. Then I dip down and take his cock between my lips. It's so hard that I don't even need to hold it, standing at attention like a flag pole, waiting for me to impale myself on it.
Shawn lets out a torrent of soft groans as I suck him off. He's surprisingly vocal, which I like. I honestly figured he'd be the soundless type. It looks like he's full of surprises.
Even though it's easy to suck him hands-free, I decide to stroke him as well, hoping to rile him up even further. That seems to do the trick. He places his hand on the back of my head and guides me down onto him.
Within minutes, he makes me glad I used my hand as a barrier between his body and his cock. He has no qualms about making me gag. The farther down on him that I go, the louder he gets, the more pre-seed leaks out of him. He does taste similar to Tristan, though not quite the same. Not bad at all.
When I pull back, he bucks his hips up into me, forcing me to gag again and again. It's a bit overwhelming, but I like that he takes what he wants. The pleasure is all about him. While I don't feel particularly sexy, I know he enjoys it, and that's all that matters.
Finally, he fucks my mouth breathless, and I'm forced to pull away from him completely. Thankfully, he releases the back of my head when he realizes I've had enough. He's ready to move on to other things though, not allowing me to take a break.
I pant as he sits up and grabs my butt, pushing me over his lap. He gives my ass a hard slap which makes me squeal. Then he grabs my leg and repositions it, so he has access to my pussy. Almost immediately, he's pressing his palm against my heated core, massaging it so fervently that I spill over the edge within seconds, crying out from shock at how quickly he was able to make me come.
“You're an easy one.” He grins wickedly, pleased with himself. It makes me wonder how many other women he's slept with.
I watch him crawl to the bedside table, open the drawer, and pull out a condom. Thank God, one of them is responsible. I try not to sigh too audibly as he opens the package and slides the condom down his length.
Within moments, he's on me, pulling me back against him and keeping me on my side. He's so strong. So demanding. I feel like a rag doll in his grip—a toy used for his pleasure.
I blush as I look down and see his sheathed bulbous tip between my legs. It's seconds away from being inside of me. My clit pulses in anticipation, and I wonder what he'll feel like. If truth be told, he's a bit bigger than Tristan, in all dimensions. It makes me a little nervous.
He slaps his cock against my pussy a few times before he angles his hips to enter me. I moan slightly from the feel of his glans pressing between my lips. His mouth is an O of pleasure.
He guides himself in slowly, and I whimper from the pinch of him stretching me. Shawn pushes my leg up to my chest and immediately starts to thrust. There are no slow beginnings here. His lust is deep and carnal. This isn't making love. This is fucking. He's fucking me. Hard. And all I can do is cry out in bliss and wallow in my sin.
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br /> “You're so good at this,” I breathe out stupidly as he wraps his hand around me, squeezing my breast hard.
“I know, and you can't get enough of it.” I can hear the smirk in his voice. He's won, and he knows it.
The friction builds up quickly, racing to the surface to make me come all over his dick. I'm almost ashamed by how fast my body gives over to him.
I pant as I watch him have his way with me. I can see his cock pushing up into me, which only arouses me more. He's like a machine designed to drill me down to the most bare human instincts. I want him to fuck me harder. Faster. I want to break him, and for him to break me. I want us to break together.
“Is that all you've got?” I look back at him. He's so lost in pleasure. So devastatingly gorgeous.
“You want me to make you scream? I will.” The challenge is there in his eyes.
I remember him saying he enjoys it when he makes women scream. I'm curious if I'd enjoy it too. “Do your worst.”
“You might regret that.” He pulls out of me and grabs me by the hips again, forcing me onto my hands and knees before he takes one of the pillows and pushes it under me. “Lie down on that and spread your legs a little.”
I do as I'm told, wondering what I just signed up for. There's no doubt in my mind he knows exactly what he's doing. Shawn has probably tried every sexual position of the Kama Sutra. If I want a dose of pain, he's going to give it to me.
Apprehension assaults me as I lay there, feeling him position himself between my legs. I'm nervous as hell, wondering if I should reconsider. I asked for this though, and I'm not backing out.
I curl my fingers into the comforter as I feel his dick pushing against my pussy. He grunts as he forces his way in. With me on my stomach, there's a tightness that wasn't there before, but it doesn't hurt until he gets all the way in. More than anything, it's just uncomfortable.
“Scream for me, love.” The words sound wickedly sexy as he begins thrusting.
I gasp from the first buck of his hips. He's hitting something deep inside me, a place too intense for me to handle. My mouth falls open and whimpers spill out as he drills into me. It's painful, and I'm not sure if it's the good kind of pain. While I don't scream, I'm louder than I've ever been before. My arms tremble beneath me as I try to bear it. This is what I asked for. What did I expect?