"Being related is bullshit?"
He gave me another one of those delicious smiles. I wanted to go over there and bite his bottom lip. "We're not related, girl. You know that."
"Tell that to society."
"Fuck society. I put my life on the line for society all the time. Least it could do is let me fuck the pussy I want to fuck."
Suddenly, I felt something tug at the end of my rod. "What the hell?" I said.
Nate was on his feet. "Pull up!" he shouted.
"Do what?" I replied, panicking. I felt another tug, more insistent.
"Damn it," he said, grabbing my hands. He yanked the tip of the rod back and something suddenly began to tug at it like crazy.
"Is that a fish?" I said, incredulous.
"Hell yeah it's a fish. You seriously never been fishing before?"
"No. My dad never let me. I always had to watch."
"Poor you." He laughed in my ear, the sun shining down on us. I felt his body close against mine. "Start reeling it in!"
I began to reel, the line coming in slowly. Nate pulled the tip up as I reeled, giving me slack to yank the fish in.
"That's it," he said. "Like that. Not too fast. Don't want to scare it."
"I'm sure it's plenty scared."
"Sure, but it's not fighting for its life yet. Can't let it see the knife."
He was so close to me, his breath hot in my ear. I could smell his manly scent over the ocean brine, and it made my head a little dizzy. His arms were strong as they moved the rod, our bodies rocking in parallel. The heat and smell made me dizzy with desire, wave after wave of exciting pleasure ringing through my stomach, filling my limbs. It was stupid and insane to want him to keep being so close, but that was the truth: I wanted it.
"Here it comes!" he said, laughing wildly.
I could see some splashing maybe ten feet away from the boat.
"It's huge," I gasped.
"Probably a shark."
"Shark!"
"Calm down," he said, laughing even louder. "It's not a shark."
He kept yanking and I kept reeling. Suddenly, the line went taught as the fish thrashed, and then the weight was completely gone. The fish stopped fighting and disappeared under the water.
"Fuck!" Nate said. "Fucking shit! The damn line broke."
I kept reeling it in until the end of the line appeared, sheared off.
"Oh," I said lamely. "Did he get away?"
"Ah shit." Nate pushed me lightly. "He got away because you're such a terrible fisherman."
"Fisher lady," I corrected him. "You're the one that's supposed to be teaching me."
His face was inches away from mine. I could have licked his lips if I wanted to, and I did want to, badly.
"You're a slow learner. There's other stuff I want to teach you, though."
"Oh yeah? What do you think I can learn from you?"
"Plenty. I can teach you to take a cock like it's nothing. Teach you to slide up and down its length until your legs give out. Teach you how to bend over and please a real man while making yourself come hard."
I bit my lip, surprised. I wasn't sure how the fishing had turned into him talking dirty again, but between that and how close he was, I found myself unable to complain.
"How would that work?" I whispered.
"I'd take you down below deck. Fuck, we could even stay right here." His hand touched my cheek, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. "Let the ocean watch. You'd take my big dick deep inside you, moan like you did the other night."
"Right here?"
"Sure. Anywhere you fucking want."
I took a deep breath. I wanted it and I knew it.
I turned my head away, looking out at the ocean. I could feel him drifting away, and I knew that if I didn't do something in a second, the line holding this moment together would snap and he'd disappear into the water. I couldn't decide, though, torn between my intense lust for him and the fear that always held me back.
When I turned toward him again, he was gone, straightened up and moving away. I felt the moment break.
"You'd like that I bet," I said stupidly.
He sat back down in his chair. "Maybe. Not sure you could handle me." He smirked and began to reel his line in. "Being a virgin and all."
I narrowed my eyes. "Don't be such an asshole."
"Can't help it sometimes."
I stood up and looked away from him. "I'm going to check on Lydie. We should head back soon."
"Sure. I'll reel this in and then drive us back. Make sure your friend doesn't choke on her own puke."
I stared at him for a few seconds longer and then walked away, heading down below deck.
What the hell had just happened? One second he was completely hot for it, and frankly so was I, and the next he just totally stopped. Was it because I looked away? Could he sense my hesitation? I was sure he could. I was probably an open book. I was willing to bet he could smell how soaked I was for him, but also knew how conflicted I felt.
But it was better that way. He really was my stepbrother, even if that forbidden relationship made it that much sweeter.
I checked in on Lydie and she seemed like she was alive. I took a seat in a chair next to the bed and sighed as the boat began to move again.
What did he want from me? He was merciless with his teasing and flirting, driving me crazy. Now that he knew I was a virgin, it was like there was something wrong with me, like there was another barrier to entry.
Maybe that really was it. Maybe my virginity had scared him away.
I shook my head, annoyed. He could drive the boat back alone. I decided I'd watch over Lydie until we got back to dry land.
Maybe there he'd be less of a dickhead.
NATHAN
I liked piloting the yacht alone. Even if it was a glorified floating bar, it was still nice to be sailing something.
I didn't get to sail much as a SEAL. Frankly, we didn't even spend all that much time on boats. Though we were nominally a part of the Navy, we were still a Special Forces team, and more often than not we were deployed to all different sorts of places, like Iraq and Syria and a bunch of other places we weren't supposed to be. More often than not, those places didn't have much in the way of a navy, which meant we were deployed on land.
Basically, wherever there were bad guys, we were there killing them before they could kill our people.
It was dangerous shit, but I loved it. It gave me purpose and made me feel alive.
Sitting down there fishing with Claire had made me almost forget who I was. I nearly forgot she was my stepsister, and a virgin to boot. I nearly forgot that her crazy, controlling dad was probably watching our every move, and likely had the whole boat bugged. She made me want to let my guard down, and that was dangerous.
It was the kind of danger I didn't want or need. Still, the girl was fucking prime, with an unbelievable body and cute as hell, too. I couldn't stop myself from messing with her, riling her up, trying to see how far I could push it before she burst.
But when we'd hit that all-important moment where we had to choose if we were doing it or not, I could sense there was a problem. Yeah, true, I'd already made the girl come hard and moan loud, but I didn't know who she was back then. Now if I went for it, I'd be fucking my stepsister with the full knowledge of how messed up that was.
Which, in a way, actually turned me on even more.
The real problem was the way she had responded. I could smell the uncertainty and fear rolling off her, and that combined with everything else made me step back.
I hit the throttle on the yacht and let it start to gain some speed. We passed through some choppy water, and the boat swayed a bit but stayed pretty clean. I was impressed by it, actually, and mentally took back all my bad thoughts. It was a fine boat, not the greatest thing in the world, but it did what it was supposed to do and it did it well. Had an awful name, but that wasn't the boat's fault.
That was all you could ask of anything in the end. You did your job and you did it well, and you expected everything else to live up to that, too.
Now that I was on leave, what was my job? I had no clue. My only goals were to get as much pussy as possible and to stay drunk for as long as I could, but those plans were looking less and less likely with each passing minute. As it turned out, there was only one pussy I was interested in at the moment, and it was the one I wasn't supposed to have.
It probably didn't help that the yacht itself was built to fuck on. It was a party boat, opulent and expensive, with gleaming, modern lines and mirrors everywhere. It was built to be covered in sweat and cum and more. I was sure Claire's dad had a whole team of people who scrubbed the thing top to bottom after every party he had on it.
Eventually we pulled back into the marina and I slowly fit the boat back into its spot. I shut off the engine and quickly hopped onto the dock, tying the boat off.
Claire stuck her head up from below. "We back?"
"Sure are," I grunted at her.
She disappeared back downstairs. I gave the yacht another long look and then turned and walked away, heading back toward the house. I didn't feel like dealing with Lydie again, that crazy bitch. Maybe hauling her ass home would help Claire get over her and find a new best friend that wasn't so much damn trouble.