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The Escort

Page 25

by Laura Marie Altom


  “Whatever.” The growing crowd pressed her closer. Heat radiated from her thighs to my needy fingertips. “Let’s talk about your residency. When do you leave for Boston?”

  “Two weeks. Mom insists on me having a new wardrobe. I don’t have the heart to tell her I’ll spend ninety-five percent of my waking hours in scrubs and the rest sleeping.” My mouth went dry. Over Christmas, we’d fallen asleep together watching Scrooged. Her faded Monroe Prep T-shirt had ridden high, exposing the curve of her perfect ass in reindeer-themed boy shorts.

  “Take care of yourself. I’ve heard…” The rest of my sentence was covered by too many drunken conversations and Jerry’s ridiculous wail.

  “What?” She smiled and cupped her ear.

  “Nothing!” I shouted above the band.

  She shocked me by taking my hand, grabbing a bottle of Patrón from the bar, then guiding me through the club until reaching the deserted pro shop, where only ghosts of the party remained.

  After parking on a padded bench, she screwed the top off the bottle and chugged.

  She coughed, then laughed. “That’s better. Part of me doesn’t believe med school’s really over. I knew it would be bad, but…” She took a few more chugs, then passed me the bottle.

  I downed enough to catch up.

  “Remember when we used to spend our whole summers at the club pool?”

  “Sure.” My mind’s eye saw flashes—slanted cut scenes of her mounded breasts squeezed into a red bikini. Her belly, gently rounded and beaded with sweat. The bronzed backs of her thighs. The bits of forbidden skin the sun never got to kiss that I caught lucky glimpses of when she rolled over and thought no one had been watching.

  I drank a lot more, and handed her the bottle.

  She downed more than she probably should have. “I used to watch you.”

  “Yeah?”

  “My friend Elaine told me you always had a towel over your lap because you were happy to see me.” She laughed before taking another few sips. “I told her she was full of shit. You’re my brother, right?”

  I fucking died—especially considering my cock was in equally bad shape now.

  “But there was this one time when you were home from school and I caught you getting out of the shower. You must have just jacked off, because you were still semi-hard. I’d heard girls at school talk about sex, and sure, I’d made out plenty of times, but that was the first cock I’d seen live and in-person.” She giggled.

  “Glad my cock could amuse you.”

  “Oh no…” She once again hit the bottle, then slid off the bench to perch between my legs. I stopped breathing when she leaned forward, kissing my package. “I’m sorry, giant, beautiful cock. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” She laughed and laughed.

  “Jesus, stop. This isn’t funny.” I tried shifting away from her, but that only made her more determined.

  “No, really…” She clasped her hands on my knees, burying her face in my crotch. “Haven’t you ever wondered what it would be like to be together? Like we’re brother and sister, but not really. It’s such a wicked taboo, but why, you know?” She palmed me, and I damn near lost my shit.

  I’d never been more hard. Like fucking never.

  Using my knees for leverage, she rose high enough to kiss me, and I was lost.

  How long had I waited to feel her pouty, full lips crushed against mine? I slipped her my tongue and we were off. Flying high on what had apparently been years of mutual curiosity.

  She stood the rest of the way, landing her honey box against my face. Momentarily stunned, the alcohol fogged my reaction time. It didn’t take long for my hands to catch on to her drunken offer.

  I shoved up her dress to find she still preferred boy shorts, but in a silky-smooth variety. I tugged them down, pushing apart her legs, then nipping at her inner thighs, and then higher, until I was spreading her and tonguing her and loving the way she’d fisted her fingers in my hair, pulling the shit out of it the deeper I plunged.

  “Holy, fuck…” she said on the heels of a moan.

  I kept going until she tensed and then shuddered.

  She stepped free of her panties, and then tore at my waistband, springing me free.

  “Shit—” I said. “I don’t have a condom.”

  “I don’t care.” Just like she had a million times over in my fucked-up, twisted teen fantasies, she sat on me, swallowing me whole. I closed my eyes and surrendered to the moment, to her, to the promise that this must never happen again.

  Once was enough, I told myself.

  Now, I would know the absolute wonder of being not just beside her, but inside her. I planted my hands on her ass, squeezing for greater purchase. I had to get deeper. I had to forever freeze this moment to make it last a lifetime.

  Her hair fell from its pins, curtaining us as we kissed. I was all at once immersed in her body, her scent, her spell. Pressure raged and roiled inside me until release hit in a crash of light and sensation and sound. She quivered around me and cried out. I wrapped my arms around her, refusing to let go. I’d waited so long for our union that it now seemed like a fragile, fleeting dream. If I moved, I’d wake and she’d be gone.

  “Savannah?” Some guy called from down the hall. “Babe, where the hell are you?”

  “Shit.” In a mad dash, she climbed off me to pull up her panties and pull down her dress.

  I tucked myself in, then zipped and buttoned my fly.

  “My hair…Shit…” Crystal pins glinting in the moonlight pooled on the wood floor. She snatched them up, using the mirror above a display of women’s golf sweaters to twist her mane back to some semblance of its former glory. Finished, she asked, “How do I look?”

  Spellbinding—only our spell had been broken. “You’re gorgeous.”

  She kissed me quick. “Thanks. Are we good?”

  Unable to speak past the nine-iron lodged in my throat, I nodded.

  “There you are.” A douchebag, fratty sort rounded the corner.

  “Chad. Hi. I’m sorry. Garrett and I were reminiscing and lost track of time.”

  “Oh, hey.” Fratty held out his hand for me to shake. “You’re the long lost brother I’m always hearing about, but never met.”

  I shook the guy’s hand, but wasn’t happy about it.

  “Chad and I both snagged Boston residencies, only we’ll be at different hospitals.”

  “Sucks to be me.” Chad pulled her against him, kissing the crown of her head.

  I fucking hated him. “So,” I forced myself to ask, “are you two an item?”

  Chad said, “As much you can be in med school, huh, babe?”

  “That’s about right.” Her green gaze met mine, and spoke an encyclopedia of regret. You won’t tell, right? We’ll never speak of this again? “Well, this has been fun, but I guess I’d better get back to my own party.”

  “Sure.” I wanted to at least give her a hug, but instead, shoved my hands in my pockets. The Patrón on top of my earlier scotch shredded my guts. “You two enjoy what’s left of the night. I’ll have Dad’s driver run me home.”

  “Probably a good idea,” Savannah said. “That way you’ll be fresh for tomorrow. Daddy chartered a plane, and we’re all flying to Biloxi to play slots and drink Long Island Iced Teas.”

  “Mmm…Sounds like a good time.” Her father had died when she’d been young, so she’d adopted mine. I fucking hated it when she called him Daddy. It made me feel like more of a perv than I already was. “Chad, are you joining us?”

  “You bet.” He kissed my stepsister’s full, gorgeous, delicious lips. “Now that we’re out of school, I’m hoping to never be apart.”

  “Great.” For Savannah, I pasted on a smile. If the douchebag made her happy, I’d support her. It wasn’t as if I had another choice. For all practical purposes, what happened between us had to be erased. It shouldn’t have happened the first time, and it would never happen again.

  To ensure there were no awkward aftereffects, I got the
hell out of the club and state.

  By morning, thanks to my own chartered flight, I was back in California, where I belonged.

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