Twisted Christmas

by Sara Cate

  Melissa and I walk out of last period. She talks my ear off about the guy she met at this past weekend’s party, but I can’t focus on a thing she says. My mind won’t allow me to think of anything but detention. His parting words unsettled me. This is so messed up. How did this even happen? I need to go speak to someone, but who? It will be his word against mine, and who’s gonna believe me? Definitely not my mom.

  “Hey, sis.” Hunter’s voice breaks into my thoughts.

  “Go away.”

  “No can do. We gotta go.”

  I turn my back to him and shove my books in my locker. “I’d rather cut my legs off than go anywhere with you.” Melissa snickers under her breath while I grab my jacket.

  “We can cut them off in the car. Stop being a brat and let’s go.”

  I turn around, sporting an I don’t give a shit snarl. “I told you no. I have detention—”

  “Not anymore. The office called. Something happened to your mom. We gotta go.”

  My snarl falls, worry taking its place. “Wait, what happened?”

  He shuts my locker and latches onto my bicep. “Tell you in the car. Now fucking hurry.”

  I mindlessly wave at Melissa and hurry out of the school with Hunter. We climb into his muscle car, and he revs his stupid engine and takes off out of the parking lot. “Seriously, talk to me. What happened? Is she okay?” He turns to me with his smirk. “Why the fuck are you smiling? This isn’t funny.”

  “Chill, your mom’s fine.”

  “What, you just said—”

  “I lied. I thought you hated your mom. You sure seem to care about someone you claim to hate.”

  “You have to be kidding me. You just yanked me out of school and lied about my mom being hurt? What the fuck, Hunter! I’m going to get in trouble!”

  He takes a sharp right turn, and I fall into him. My hand reaches out, mistakenly grabbing his thigh for support.

  “Chill, sis, didn’t know the need for speed gets you all frisky. I can pull over if you wanna—”

  I clench my fist and punch him in the thigh. He howls and bends forward, almost taking out a construction sign. “What the fuck!”

  “Take me back. Now.”

  “No.”

  “What do you mean no? Take me back! I have detention.”

  “You have detention so Mr. Gibson can drool all over you. He probably beats off under his desk while you sit there. Unless…you assist.”

  My face flushes with anger. Shame. How dare he judge a situation he knows nothing about. He pulls into the driveway and hops out. I race after him just as he opens the front door. “You know nothing about me.”

  “What does knowing you have to do with why you have detention?” He throws his backpack on the couch and faces me. “So, you also know why you have it. I was right. You and our physics teacher are going at it.” His accusations are so far from the truth, but I hate to give him the satisfaction of arguing. He’s not worth it.

  I put my hands on my hips and prepare for a fight. “And maybe we are. Maybe he bends me over his desk when everyone leaves and I like it. Have you ever bent someone over and taken their breath away just by the mere thrust of your cock? Because he does. Every. Single. Time.” His smile once again falters. “I always try to scream, but he has to cover my mouth so I can’t. Every time. That’s how good he is. I can’t keep in my moans. The way he makes me beg—”

  “You’re fucking lying.”

  “Am I?” I challenge him. His searing eyes blaze into mine. He doesn’t want to believe me, but he questions it. And deep down, I think he’s furious because I know damn well he wants to be the one behind me. “So, tell me, brother, what are you going to do with this information? Tell on me? Beg me to trade my illicit professor for my intolerable stepbrother? Would you like to fuck me, Hunter?”

  I love the way his jaw tightens. The vein protruding from his forehead only feeds my fire.

  “That’s what I thought. So, we both agree I don’t fuck boys, and you don’t fuck—”

  He moves so fast, I barely register him on me until he’s pushing me up against the back of the couch. His mouth hangs over mine, and now I’m the one silently begging. “You’re right. I don’t fuck little whores.” His lips press against mine, swallowing me whole. His tongue breaches my mouth, taking mine in a brutal kiss. I fight back, but he gathers my hair in a tight fist and tugs. I hiss out in pain, but he doesn’t stop. “But for you, I’ll make an exception.” He devours my mouth until I can’t take anymore. My hands become just as brutal as I lock my fingers into his hair. There’s something savage at the way we kiss, our hands frantic and greedy, pulling at one another’s clothes. There’s no thinking. No questioning right or wrong. Because this is wrong. In so many ways. His hands tear at my leggings while I unsnap his jeans. Suddenly, he flips me, slamming his hand down on my back so I’m arched over the couch. My leggings are ripped down my quivering thighs, and the sound of his jeans being shoved to his knees follows. Without fully undressing me or warning me, he kicks my legs apart and spreads me open. He takes the tip of his thick cock and plunges inside me, making me scream out. A sharpness stabs at my core. It’s been too long since I’ve been with anyone, and he’s so big. He stops, then pulls out and slams back in, not offering me time to adjust.

  “Is this how he takes you? Fucks with you without remorse? Uses you like a little whore?”

  His words are meant to hurt, but they only ignite the fire inside me. He fills me over and over, each thrust pulling him deeper inside me. Hisses and moans mingle with our panting breaths. His balls slap against my clit every time he pumps into me, the sound of our sex echoing in the air. I push back onto him, needing more friction. “Such a fucking whore,” he groans, digging his fingers into my hips. No doubt he’ll leave a mark. “Fuck,” he growls, and I almost lose it. My breasts swell against my shirt as they rub back and forth over the material of the couch. “Tell me, sis, is this how you behave with all your teachers?”

  “Fuck you,” I pant, riding his cock. A sharp pain skates across my ass as he spanks me.

  “Is this what gets you off? Being a bad girl?”

  “Yes, yes…” I moan, needing more, craving so much more. I can barely understand the insults. My orgasm is borderline blinding. My eyes burn. My sex swells. The only sound I hear is the smacking of our bodies as he fucks me into oblivion.

  His thrusts become too much, and I explode into a million tiny pieces of ecstasy, my walls clenching around his cock.

  “Fuck,” he grunts, powering into me. He pulls out, and I feel the warmth of his cum shooting up my back.

  It takes us both a moment to catch our breath, the realization of what we’ve done coming front and center. Hunter shuffles behind me as he pulls his pants up. Like an idiot, I wait for him to help me out. When I hear him picking up his backpack and storming up the stairs, I realize I’m on my own.

  “Fucking asshole,” I hiss. I have no choice but to stand up straight, his cum dripping down my back. “You fucking asshole!” I yell, ready to commit a serious crime. “Gross,” I whine as I pull my sweater off and wipe off my back.

  “Asshole or not, Mommy and Daddy are home. Have fun explaining…” he waves his hand up and down, motioning to my disheveled appearance, “all this.”

  Shit! The door handle starts to turn, and I take off in a sprint up the stairs.

  “Kiddo, is that you?” I hear William’s voice as I run past Hunter’s door, punching it before throwing myself into my room.

  “Yeah! Lots of homework. Privacy would be great!” I yell down, then slam my door shut. I swear to all that’s holy, I hate Hunter Graham with every fiber of my being.

  Chapter 10

  Hunter

  “There’s Trena. You gonna go talk to her?”

  “No,” I say to Griff, my best and only friend since I moved to this hellhole town after Dad and Olivia got married. My mom hadn’t even been dead a whole year.

  There’s no way to prepare a kid for losing a
parent. Especially when it’s ugly. Fucking cancer invaded her entire body. She went from vibrant to frail in a matter of weeks. Months passed, and the treatments didn’t work. They only sucked the little life she had left out of her.

  I always envied my parents. The love they shared. There was a time I actually thought one day I’d find the same passion they had. But then Mom got sick, and Dad started to shut down. Then he met Olivia. She was the on-call nurse at the hospice center. She helped my mom through the sickness caused by the treatments. Consoled my dad through the hard nights. His excuse that they formed a bond during the loss was fucking bullshit. While my mom was gasping for her last breath, he was having coffee with Olivia in the cafeteria. My dad was so fucking busy flirting with my mom’s nurse, my mom died alone.

  I wish he was the one who died. Mom didn’t deserve this. To be so betrayed on her death bed. And then he falls in love and fucking remarries so quickly. Now, not only do I have a stepmother, I have a bratty, mouthy, intolerable stepsister.

  “For real? Last time I saw you two, you looked pretty cozy.”

  I take another swig. “Not lookin’ to get cozy tonight, man.” More like commit murder. I’m just not sure who I want to murder first: the sick-ass physics teacher or my damn stepsister. Cat…I fucked her. I lost my mind and my shit while I fucked her from behind. She wanted to teach me a lesson? Goad me? Her plan sure as fuck backfired. I’m just not sure if it was on her or me.

  “Clearly. You look like you want to fight someone. Not normally your style. What’s up with you?”

  I’ve got myself a fucking problem I don’t know how to fix. “Nothing. Long story.” Well, it’s actually pretty short. I fucked my stepsister and almost blacked out because it felt so good. But I hate her, and she hates me. I may hate our physics teacher more, though. The thought of him fucking her makes me want to seriously harm someone.

  “Okay then. How are things with your pops? Any better?”

  Another topic I don’t want to discuss. I slam the rest of my beer and jump off the hood of my car. “He’s still a heartless prick.”

  “Where you going?” I hear him ask to my back.

  “Seems like maybe I wanna get cozy after all.” I storm up to Trena and wrap my arm around her neck. “S’up.” I start looking around for more booze. I’ll need more than two beers to get through this fuck.

  “Hey, Hunter. Where’ve you been? You left the party last weekend without saying goodbye.”

  I don’t give her an answer because I don’t need to. She’ll suck me off and let me do shit to her whether I answer her questions or not. I grab her drink and slam it. The bitter taste of tequila burns down my throat. It’s no wonder this chick always gets too drunk, offering her ass up to any guy who will take her. “Let’s take a walk,” I say, escorting her away from the crowd and into a more dark, secluded area. The booze isn’t getting my stepsister off my mind, so maybe fucking Trena’s mouth will.

  “What do you have in mind?” she asks in a flirtatious tone as if she doesn’t know what’s about to happen. God, some chicks just love cock. I find a nice grassy area and turn to her, pushing down on her shoulders. She goes willingly, as always.

  “Why don’t you show me how much you missed me last weekend.”

  She glances up at me, her eyelashes fluttering in the moonlight. I stare down at her, inspecting her intense eye makeup and bright blonde hair. The opposite of Cat’s natural beauty and subtle brown curls. Anger shoots through me at the thought of her, and I grab at a chunk of Trena’s hair. “Come on, baby. I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

  Her eyes light up. “You have?”

  No. I’ve been thinking about my stepsister and her tight little cunt. Her poisonous moans and porcelain skin. “Yeah, baby. Now, come on. Make me glad I was.”

  She offers me a Cheshire grin and starts unbuckling my belt. When my pants are down, she wraps her fingers around my cock and takes her tongue to the tip. I sigh, leaning my head back. She teases me, her tongue protruding and licking down my shaft. I close my eyes and try to enjoy this, but my mind keeps going back to her. Her fucking lips that felt like silk against mine. Her words that caused me to cross a line I swore I wouldn’t. Fucking with her was one thing, fucking her was another. I wanted to find a way to get back at my dad. Make his new wife’s daughter fuck up to the brink of causing her mother havoc. That was my plan. But she had to taunt me. Lie to me. Throw our stupid teacher in my face. I thrust into Trena’s mouth, my anger continuing to build. She gags, and I grab her neck, forcing myself down her throat.

  Stop fucking thinking about her.

  I thrust harder and faster, needing a release. The problem is this mouth isn’t the one I want to ruin. This isn’t the hair I want to grab and pull. Come on. Just finish. Harder and harder, I try. Trena gags and chokes, her saliva soaking my fucking jeans. I throw her off me.

  “What? What’s wrong?”

  I shove myself back into my pants.

  “Hunter, are you serious?”

  “I’m done. Get up. Go back to the party.” I start to walk away.

  “What the fuck!”

  “Not interested after all,” I say as I continue to stroll.

  “You know what, fuck you!”

  Again, not the one I want to fuck, sorry.

  I’m drunk as fuck heading into the house. All the lights are off, which is a good sign. The last thing I need is to hear it from Dad. Olivia has caught me a few times but has been kind enough to keep it to herself. She’s too worried about maintaining a happy marriage to tattle on her stepson. One time, when she had a few too many glasses of wine, she opened up about her daughter. I already knew what her naughty little girl did, but the way she spoke of her, she didn’t think too highly. It made me wonder why they had such a jaded relationship. What made Catalina the way she is. I’m no stranger to chicks with daddy issues. This town is filled with them. But to go after her boyfriend—that’s some legit messed up shit.

  My curiosity grew with every comment or disparaging remark she made. By the time Cat came to live with us, I was on the edge of my seat to meet her. Break her down. Figure out why she was so fucked up and make her worse.

  But then she finally arrived and didn’t even notice me. Just like Dad, she went about her day, not even caring I was there. Not once did she attempt to meet me. And each day that went by, I resented her even more. That’s when I put my plan into place. I was going to get out of here, and she would be the pawn who helped me.

  When I walk in, I notice her backpack still by the front door. The little liar tried to play off that she was too busy doing homework to come out for dinner. She’s lucky her mom doesn’t bother to pay attention to her. I should just tell dear old Dad now I banged his stepdaughter. Maybe that would put him over the edge. Maybe I’ll tell my step mommy her daughter has been taking advantage of me at night. Watch her explode. Maybe I should even lie and claim I saw her little girl coming onto my dad. That would do the deed. You want to get out of here. Not burn everyone down to the ground in the process. But maybe I do. Maybe I want everyone else to hurt the way I do. She has nothing to do with what your dad has done. Maybe not. But it doesn’t change the fact that she’s collateral damage.

  I stumble up the stairs, barely making it to my bedroom door. I’m tempted to sneak into hers and see if she wants to finish me off. Nothing like a good ol’ blow job before bed. My dick swells at the visual of her lips wrapped around me, my cock filling her mouth. I wrap my hand around myself and hiss. Shutting myself into my room, I fall into bed.

  “Naughty little whore,” I whisper as I pull my dick out and start stroking myself. “So eager. So fucking naughty.” I hiss as a drop of precum wets the tip of my dick. I smear it around, offering more friction as I slide up and down, squeezing at the base. “Fucking whore.” Up and down, each stroke feels like heaven. “Beautiful fucking whore.” My stomach muscles suddenly contract, and my cock starts to spasm as my orgasm comes out of nowhere, the warmth of my cum jerking
onto my stomach.

  I fall back as if all is right in the world and pass the fuck out.

  Chapter 11

  Catalina

  There’s one good outcome to having sex with your stepbrother. Ever since our little mishap, he’s stayed away. Which has been in his favor because if I see him anytime soon, I’m going to kill him.

  The downfall is, I can’t hide in my room forever.

  Or a second longer because I had to leave for school five minutes ago.

  “Cat, I’m not going to yell again. Get to school. If you get suspended, the consequences won’t be pretty.”

  “Mom, I told you, I don’t feel good. It must have been something I ate again.”

  Mom opens my door and stands there, her arms crossed, the look of disappointment she wears just for me firmly in place. “Sure you did. Just like last time. You’re lucky your brother covered for you.”

  “He’s not my brother.”

  “He shouldn’t be lying for you. I know when you’ve been drinking. I have plenty of years of experience.”

  “Same. Where do you think I got all my talent from?” Her mouth parts. I’m not sure why I said that. Truth hurts, but it was uncalled for. “I didn’t mean—”

  “Go to school or find another home to mooch off of.” And then she’s gone. Shit. I roll out of bed and throw on a pair of jeans and a hoodie. My hair goes up in a messy bun, and I grab my backpack. I’m out the door in a matter of minutes, my mom nowhere to be found, which means no ride. “Great,” I grumble, knowing I’ll miss half of first period. In all this chaos, I managed to forget about Mr. Gibson and ditching detention. I sigh in defeat. Maybe I should just give in and flirt back with him and clear my detention record. A small delusional laugh falls off my tongue. Okay, now I’ve officially lost it. Why don’t I just admit I have the hots for my stepbrother too while I’m at it.