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“Do you think maybe you’re afraid of letting someone get close enough to disappoint you the way your mom disappointed you when you were growing up?”
Sawyer doesn’t say anything for a while. Then, finally, he says, “Maybe.”
I watch the realization play out across his face like a time-lapsed video of a flower blooming and dying. I can clearly picture him as a little boy, waiting by the phone for his mom to call him.
He closes his eyes, but a few tears make it past his pinched eyelids. I wrap my arms around him, holding him close for as long as he needs comfort. I’d hold him forever, if that’s what he wanted.God, I wish that’s what he wanted... He doesn’t sob. Doesn’t shake. Just lets me rub his back, supporting most if not all of his weight.
“I’m still glad you brought me here, Sawyer.”
He pulls back to study me with red-rimmed eyes. “You are?”
I take his face in my hands. “Yes. You and your dad have shown me—us. All of us—what we’ve been missing. Tell me you’re not still thinking of running away from it all.”
“I don’t want to run,” he says, and I can tell he means it.
“Good. Because I’m falling in love with you. And I need to know you’ll be there to catch me.”
I kiss him. He pulls me closer, sliding his tongue between my lips and guiding me onto my back. This is what he needs—what we both need. No more words. Just the unspoken language of bodies coming together, making each other feel tethered to something good.
He rubs my pussy through my clothes. I lift my ass off the couch so he can pull my leggings and underwear off. He removes my sweater. I lose my bra, then gasp as his fingers dip between my folds.
A low growl escapes Sawyer’s throat. “Did you and my old man get up to no good this afternoon?”
Heat rises into my cheeks. “Maybe...”
“My little sister’s a dirty girl." He pets my clit, which has my whole body revving like an engine within seconds.
“You really like saying that, don’t you?”
“Do you hate it?” he asks.
“No,” I say. “I just think it’s dirty...in a good way. Technically you are my stepbrother, but that’s not how I think of you most of the time.”
“Humor me for a minute.” He kisses my lips, then proceeds to plant kisses down my neck and chest. “I’ll set the scene. It’s early Christmas morning. Dad’s upstairs sleeping, tucked snuggly into his bed—”
“Our bed,” I interject.
“In this scenario, it’s his bed. You and I each have our own.” He kisses my navel, then my mound, then my pussy lips. “Meanwhile, you, little sister, and me, your no-good, much older stepbrother, are down here, by the tree, all alone, unwrapping each other like secret-Santa gifts.”
The image he’s painted for me is a filthy one, made filthier as he spreads my legs and parts my folds with his fingers. To think that my stepbrother is looking at the most intimate parts of my body makes me want to squirm.
But I love it. I love the dirty, illicit thrill of it.
As Sawyer licks his lips, a slow grin spreads across his face. He knows I’m turned on by the fantasy he’s created. His tongue glides over my clit. I moan. My body feels like a Christmas tree strung with thousands of lights that sparkle and blink. I comb my fingers through his hair, my eyes drifting shut as I lose myself to the pleasure of his dancing tongue.
He laps and swirls and sucks, until he discovers the pattern that has my hips bucking. My muscles tighten as the pressure builds and builds and then blooms between my thighs.
I moan softly. It’s not a hard orgasm, like the ones I have when there’s a cock inside me. Instead, it’s exhilarating, like summer rain, sending tingles down my spine.
He glances up at me, smiling like a wolf. “Better keep it down, little sister. Dad’s gonna hear us.”
“Maybe I want him to hear us.”
Sawyer hums, deep and guttural. “One cock’s not enough for you, is that it?”
I shake my head.
He turns toward the stairs. I follow his gaze to where Colton stands at the bottom of the staircase, watching us. I must’ve been so caught up in my own pleasure that I didn’t even hear him come down.
