Stepbrother Inked(35)

I can't do this, I thought, and then, but I want to. I can't, but I need to.

Flor pushed himself against me and I spread my legs at the knee, opening  up for him, letting him in. The fullness of his body made me gasp as I  dug my nails into the strong muscles of his back and arched my own,  trying to take every inch in one, single thrust. I wanted Flor to be  mine, to feel my body wrapped around his and like it better than any  other woman he'd been with. I wanted him to forget Rhonda, to forget  about sleeping around, to want only me.                       
       
           



       

Our hips arched together and another sigh fell from my lips, captured by  Flor's mouth as he kissed me, his own sounds of pleasure mixing with my  own. If he'd thought having him like this would quench my thirst, he  was wrong. I felt my need and my desire for him grow, felt myself  rocking against him as his body and mine melted into one, bare flesh  sliding together in a sea of sweat and groans and voices stifled by  kisses.

"Abigail," he growled again, taking my head in his hands and kissing my  forehead before he leaned back and pushed my thighs aside, thrust harder  and faster and deeper into me. Those green eyes never strayed from my  face, sharp as pine needles, brilliant. I saw his dark head silhouetted  against the afternoon sky. There was something else I both wanted and  dreaded for him to say. He must've seen it on my face because he slowed  down, only briefly and leaned forward to whisper, "nee-chan."

Those were the sweetest, strangest syllables I had ever heard.

I felt him move again, felt my own body rise up and let the pleasure wash over and through me.





I woke to shivers and stars, curling up closer to the only source of  warmth I could find. When I opened my eyes and found the hard, perfect  planes of Flor's back filling my vision, I balked.

Oh my God. What did I just do?

Not only had I fallen asleep on a roof (not the safest idea in the  world), but I was curled up against Florian. We were both still naked,  and I found myself searching around for something to put on. The blanket  I'd brought out was wrapped around Flor and tucked underneath him, so  that I'd have to wake him to move it. Rather than doing that, I hunted  around for my shirt and found it sticky with champagne. Images of my  panties fluttering over the edge of the rooftop assailed me, and I  flushed. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I managed to locate Flor's  shirt and slipped it over my head. Since my leggings were also covered  in champagne, I gathered them up and tossed them in the still open  window along with my shirt.

Tucking my legs up under the black fabric, I closed my eyes and reveled  in the smell of Flor's clothing. There was that citrus tang of his  shampoo and a gentle lingering of cigarette smoke. I clutched the fabric  tight in my fingertips and poked him with my toe. Already my face was  turning red and memories were dancing in front of my eyes like specters.

Flor's hard hot body moving above me, the feel of him deep inside, the  rush of pleasure I felt followed by the shudder of his own. I choked  back a noise and clamped my palm over my mouth. We should've used a  condom, but thank God I was on birth control. I poked Flor again and he  grumbled, much the same way as he'd always done when I'd found him  sleeping on the couch or, once, on my own bed with my diary clutched in  his then bare fingers. When I leaned over him now, I saw the shadows of  color, the tattoos that were barely visible in the darkness. What time  was it? I wondered, rubbing at my upper arms and shivering against the  early winter chill in the air. Eugene was a fairly mild city when it  came to weather, but it was also faithful to the seasons. Winter was on  its way and it was cold.

"Flor," I whispered, brushing some hair from his forehead, wondering how  things would be between us when those dark lashes of his fluttered open  and his green eyes found mine. What was I thinking? "Flor." More loudly  this time, just enough to get him to stir.

He grumbled awake, facing away from me and then, slowly, turned. Our  gazes met and my body lit up like the Fourth of July, like that memory  from the locket was pulsing through me and morphing into something  older, more mature. What would it be like to watch fireworks up here  with him? To have his arm around my waist, to go inside and climb into  bed and feel him move inside of me? For a brief second there, I'd almost  forgotten I was at my parents' house. Our parents' house.

"Shit," Flor groaned, pushing himself up and onto his knees. He rubbed a  hand over his hair, the blanket covering just the right amount of him  for me to stay civil, and looked around. At first his green eyes were  confused, but recognition slowly dawned and we were left staring at one  another.

I wished I could say his face filled with love, that he reached out and  cupped my cheek, kissed me and told me it would all work out okay.  Somehow, someway. But no, instead he shook his head like he was trying  to clear it and then groaned, covering his face with both hands.

"Shit," he said again, looking up at me. His gaze pierced through me  like an arrow and his lips parted, but before he got the chance to say  anything, we both heard the rumble of tires and saw the sweep of  headlights across the yard. "When were they supposed to be back?" he  asked frantically, and I shook my head. I didn't know.                       
       
           



       

Flor and I both scrambled for the window, collecting the discarded items  as we went. He helped me through first, his fingers brushing against  the bare skin of my ass, either by accident or design I'm not sure. My  bare feet hit the wood floor and I stumbled towards the attic stairs,  already praying that it was Max or Addi or someone else entirely at the  front door. At this point, I'd even settle for Rhonda. Anyone but my  parents.

I moved down the stairs quickly, cringing as River's voice traveled up from the first floor to meet us.

"Florian? Abigail? We're back." Footsteps sounded below as I scrambled  into my old bedroom and flung the drawers open, looking feverishly for  something to wear. I'd done a damn good job packing my stuff and was  left with a single pair of old pajama pants, ripped down one side but  better than nothing at all. Underwear I had to give up on, and I managed  to dress myself just as Flor stumbled by and paused, moving into my  room and hiding the blanket and champagne stained clothes in my closet.

A second later, River appeared in the doorway and paused.

There I was, standing in mismatched, faded pajama pants that had once  had hearts on them, dressed in Flor's shirt with my hair mussed and my  lips swollen and a tender ache between my legs that said Flor was  definitely bigger than Max. My stepbrother stood beside me in jeans and  nothing else, just as mussed, just as disheveled as I was.

I rushed to fill the silence.

"I, uh, fell asleep and I guess Flor didn't realize I was here. I didn't  know he was here either," I added uselessly, wondering how this looked,  wondering how River could possibly miss the heavy tension between us.

Flor tucked his left hand in his pocket and withdrew a cigarette with his right.

"I'm gonna go have a smoke," he said, ambling away like he didn't have a  care in the world. His mother moved aside to let him pass, a strange  glow suffusing her cheeks. When she looked at me again, she was actually  smiling.

"When you're done doing  …  whatever," she said, cocking her head to the  side curiously. I guess I looked a little weird, standing there next to  my old dresser in a nearly empty room, doing absolutely nothing. "Meet  me downstairs. Your father and I want to have a talk with the two of  you." I nodded and River moved away, taking one last look at Flor's  shirt draped over my shoulders.

I pored through the rest of the drawers and nearly sobbed in relief when  I found a tank top I'd left behind. It was big and boxy and definitely  not the most flattering piece of clothing in existence, but when you've  just slept with your stepbrother and are being forced to face your  parents, it beats being caught.

I slipped the top on and retreated to the bathroom, desperately battling  my hair with the lone brush left in the top drawer. Some deodorant, a  quick brush of my teeth, and I felt ready to face the world. Well, as  ready as I ever would considering the circumstances. It'd have been nice  to have a pair of panties, too.

My heart clenched at the thought of my father walking out back to mow  the lawn and finding a pair of lacy purple nothings laying in his  perfect grass. I swallowed hard and shook my head. No. No. I would find  some way to get out there and grab the damn panties, even if it killed  me.