She walked by me, gave me a wink of encouragement and said without saying anything that this guy was a keeper. I waited for about 15 minutes, before walking in and putting my hands on the table that he was currently sitting behind.
“Who do I make this… out to?” He looked up and then he stood up and wrapped his arms around my waist. He pulled me across the table on my knees, until I was straddling him in his chair. “You don’t know how much I’ve needed to see you again. I want you to know that I don’t want anybody else. I want you in my life and I don’t care what kind of groveling I have to do to make it up to you for not calling these last couple of days.”
“I’m glad that you said that. I’m pregnant with your child. I understand if you need time to adjust to this new information. I’m not asking anything of you, but I would really like for us to be there for one another. You’re not the only one that has been thinking about things. I want you and I need you and I just hope that doesn’t scare you.” He kissed me deeply with people giggling and applauding this public display of affection.
“I take a deep breath every time that I see you. It hurts me any time that I don’t have you near me. You being pregnant with my child is that icing on the cake.” We were soon engaged and with child on the way. We had that instant family and a future that was bright.
THE STEPBROTHER’S BABY
“If you want it,” he said as he stood towering over me, “then you're going to have to give me what I want.”
“That's disgusting,” I said, trembling. “It's not right. It's not fair!”
He laughed and shook his head, his eyes roaming my scantily-clad body. I'd dressed this way for him, at his request. My short plaid skirt didn't even come down low enough to cover my panties, my tight white top was unbuttoned, and a thin red necktie hung down between my breasts. It was the sort of outfit some people didn't think a big girl could pull off, but he seemed to like the way it hugged my generous curves. I tried to pull the top closer to hide my near-nakedness, but it strained so much against my breasts that I couldn't even close it all the way.
“Life isn't fair, Anne,” he said. He reached out to run his fingers through my hair. His hands were dirty and greasy. No doubt he'd been out playing mechanic again, fixing up one of his bikes. “But this is just the way it is. My father left everything to me, and only to me. If you want your share, you're going to have to...” He looked down at my body again, biting his lip. “...share.”
I shuddered, but at the same time, my body heated up. Matt had been chasing me for months, and while I'd resisted his every attempt at seduction, the truth was, I loved it. I loved the way he looked at me, the way he touched me, the way he made me feel so desired. No one had ever affected me like this before. For a while, it had been a game for me. Letting him get little glimpses of what he wanted, then denying him the prize. I'd only recently admitted to myself that in denying him, I was denying what I really wanted.
“Don't tell me you haven't thought about it,” Matt said, stepping closer. I backed away until I was pinned against the wall. He stood over me, holding me there by his sheer presence. “I've seen the way you look at me. The way you tease. Even when you're not dressed like this,” he pulled at the lapels of my shirt, exposing my firm breasts, “you like to show it off to me. Don't think I haven't noticed.”
“But I can't...” I whispered. My lips trembled. I broke into a cold sweat, sweet beads of moisture sliding down my neck and between my breasts.
“Why not?” he asked, leaning close to whisper into my ear. “Why not give in to what we both want?”
“Because,” I whispered, licking my lips, “you're my stepbrother.”
* * *
I first met Matt about six months before, at our parents' wedding. I was in a bad mood that day, disgusted with my mother for what she was doing. My whole life, she'd worked in restaurants, waiting tables and dealing with irritable customers in order to make her living. She'd developed a bad back and serious foot problems over the years, but somehow she had still managed to keep her figure.
Which was probably how she managed to seduce the elderly Matthew Partridge Sr. She'd gotten a temp job working for a catering company that served the rich and famous. I'm not sure what she did to catch Mr. Partridge's eye, but one night after a long shift serving wine at an art gala, she'd gone home with him. Three months later, they were engaged.
I stood in the back of the room at the reception, nursing a glass of wine and watching with a scowl as my mom and Mr. Partridge danced for the first time. She didn't love him. I knew she didn't. She'd told me as much. She was a gold digger, plain and simple. Mr. Partridge was old and infirm, and she knew it would only be a few years, at most, before he kicked the bucket and she was left with a sizable fortune to inherit.