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The feeling of relief floods me when Gabrielle gets out of the car, but the relief is quickly replaced by guilt by the force of her slam of my car door. Her scent still permeates the air which does nothing for the tension that’s burrowed in my neck in response to hearing her climax last night. I know that she’s probably thrown off by my overall demeanor this morning given that I’ve never been this way with her but it’s easier this way.
Just until I get this back under control.
But shit. It killed me to be that cold with her. I hadn’t meant to but last night and then this morning, seeing her fresh from the shower made me feel almost manic. Her sweet, clean scent wafting into my nostrils even as I all but sprinted past her.
“I’m sorry, Gabrielle.” I shake my head.
The painful erection that I had for most of last night is starting to form again as I inhale her scent still lingering in the car and watch her enter the building. Her coat covers her glorious ass but I saw enough of it last night in those skin tight leggings that hugged her curves deliciously. I rest my head against the headrest giving myself a second to clear my thoughts before heading to work. I have to focus.
Gabrielle is your baby sister.
Too young for you.
Fuck her age, she’s too…related to you.
I pull off into the street, trying to forget the sound of her muffled moans as I pictured her pressing her face into my pillows. The sound of her moving on the bed. Sheets rustling. Her heavy breathing. Her sweet face with a look of sheer ecstasy as she comes around her fingers. Or maybe a vibrator. Fuck, could she have been using a vibrator? No, with the way I was holding my breath as I tried to pry myself away from the door as I listened, I would have heard the sound of a buzzing no matter how faint. My hands were firmly planted on either side of the door out of fear that one would slip and knock on the door or worse, turn the doorknob and enter the guest room so I could watch her in the throes of ecstasy. Our eyes would lock just as she went over the edge, my hand wrapped firmly around my cock as I climax with her.
I rub my forehead as I pull up to a stoplight and try to swallow the lump I have lodged in my throat. I have got to get this shit under control. The sound of my phone ringing breaks my carnal thoughts of Gabrielle.
“James Calloway.”
“Hi, Mr. Calloway.” I hear the soft, flirty voice of the temporary assistant I have while my usual one is out on maternity leave. Brooke was twenty-two, completely disconnected from the world around her, and on track to becoming an HR nightmare with the way she flirted with every guy in the office.
The only thing keeping her from the line at the unemployment office is the guy with the placard on his door with the letters CFO etched into the wood. The only guy she doesn’t flirt with, the guy she calls, Daddy. Biologically not sexually.
I can already picture her crossing her legs, letting her skirt ride up just a smidge above what’s appropriate in the corporate setting as she twirls the chord around her finger. “Daddy is wondering when you’ll be in.”
My eyes roll at the unprofessionalism. “I told him, I’d be there by nine, I had to drop my sister off at Columbia for her final this morning.” I internally scoff at giving away so much information when it’s not necessary. Not only did Mr. Corden know this information, but I’d be willing to bet he didn’t even ask where the fuck I was making me question if this is all a ruse. I’m his hardest working employee by a mile increasing revenue by almost 150 percent this year alone with the government contract I just closed. I look to my cupholder and spy the half drunk coffee in the cup holder.
If my theory is correct, you picked the wrong day to pull this shit with me.
“Miss Corden, I’d like a coffee on my desk by the time I get there.”
“Oh, there’s already—”
“I want one from the cart in the lobby.” I contemplate sending her outside of the building, but I suppose I’ll spare her from being sent into the bitter cold for a coffee I don’t even want. A black coffee and two shots of espresso, thanks.” I tell her flatly.
“Um sure, okay.”
“Problem?” I ask. It is her job and I was in the mood to clarify that being hired on the basis of nepotism does require some level of grunt work given that we passed over three people all with masters degrees and one with promises of secrets from our competitors to give the job to some girl that spends more time taking selfies than managing my schedule.
“Of course not, Mr. Calloway. I’ll go fetch that for you right now. Is there…anything else I can do for you?”
I resist the urge to snort at the obvious euphemism. “Nope, just the coffee. I’ll be there in five, so I’d get a move on it.” It’s actually more like ten, but she needs to move with some urgency for fucking once. I end the call and my thoughts turn back to Gabrielle. My beautiful, sweet, kind baby sister who I haven’t stopped thinking about as more than my sister for the past six months.
Good luck on your exam, beautiful.
Gabrielle’s 18th Birthday
I frown slightly as I watch Gabrielle wobble slightly after the shot of tequila her friends make her take. We are celebrating her birthday on my friend Luke’s boat and we’d settled in the center of the lake for a moment for the girls to take some pictures. I was grateful, I’d worn my darkest wayfarers, allowing my eyes to shamelessly rake my gaze over Gabrielle’s perfect body. Her waves wild from speeding around the lake giving it a sexy tousled look like she’s fresh from sleep, or being freshly fucked. My eyes skate down her body drinking in the red bikini that covers her delicious little curves. While her friends opted for thongs and cheeky bikinis, Gabrielle’s is tasteful and covers everything while still being unbelievably sexy. Gabrielle has always been a bit on the conservative side when it comes to clothing, when all of her friends wear shit that exposes their tits and ass for attention, she always errs on the side of—well not trying to give me and our father a heart attack.
Not that it matters, with curves like hers, even in sweatpants she’s sexy.
She giggles before posing for a selfie with one of her closest friends and doing a shimmy for the camera that makes her tits bounce and I squeeze my eyes shut before pulling my beer to my lips and taking a long sip. Our eyes meet briefly and mine widen before I realize that she can’t tell that I’m staring right at her behind my dark lenses. She probably thinks I’m staring at one of her newly turned eighteen year old friends. All of whom have been trying to get my attention since we boarded the boat.
I turn my head, to stare off into the lake for a moment, just enough time for Gabrielle to take her eyes away from my direction and I can go back to shamelessly ogling her. My God, when did she get so beautiful?
I take another sip of my beer, an IPA with a ten percent alcohol by volume and a ninety percent chance of making a stupid decision as Luke comes up from below deck with a bottle of whiskey. “Want a shot?”
