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He chuckles, waving me off. “Fine.”
With one last goodnight to everyone, I disappear from the kitchen, up the stairs, and back into the room I called mine for almost five years.
After my high school graduation, I started working in a car repair shop downtown. I needed time and experience under my belt before I applied at the shops that worked on the cars I dreamt of. One month went by before a familiar car I’d serviced in high school pulled up. Some rich guy who drove his daddy’s car like they were toys. He’d taken his car to see me at the academy after he got another ticket but found out I was now at a new place. Only now, he wasn’t alone.
His rich dad found out I had been the one getting all the tickets dropped for the repairs on his son’s car and asked if he could send some of his buddies’ kids my way.
Three months later, I had enough money to open my own shop. But being that I wanted to build my first house, I continued living here to save up money. I was able to keep my dad company, cook and help clean up for Adelina’s mom, and also look after the treehouse so it didn’t succumb to the elements or neglect.
It’s been three years since I’ve laid in my old bed and stared across the hall into the empty void of Adelina’s room. The place I couldn’t walk past without recalling her filling the space, her quiet hums, her cute laughter, the stacks of books and piles of paper.
It was like a ghost, haunting me with what should have been but never was.
Now, I have much darker and dirtier thoughts of what will happen in that room tonight.
I grab a towel and my small overnight bag before heading into the bathroom, moving quickly to clamber inside once the water’s warm. The hot spray pelts into my back, relaxing the tense muscles with every drop. I close my eyes against the feelings as I reach for my soap, trying to focus on the calming sensation rather than the heaviness hanging between my legs.
But I can’t. As I wash my body, I can’t help but imagine her. Dark hair, a splatter of freckles, and thick curves I want to sink my fucking teeth into. I imagine Adelina dipping to her knees in front of me, water clinging to her hair and full lashes as she grips her tender hand around my throbbing cock.
My own hand moves down, fisting around my erection as I move at a slow and steady pace, my blood draining to my dick as I picture sweet Adelina swallowing it in her small mouth. Those perfect pouty lips circled around my length, her cheeks hollowing out as she takes me as far as she can down her throat.
A hiss pushes past my bared teeth as my free hand lifts to the top of the shower door. I grip it so hard, the metal bites into my palm, but I don’t stop. I can’t.
I move in time with her mouth, squeezing harder when fantasy Adelina gazes up at me from behind a row of dark lashes. She’s so fucking beautiful. So perfect.
A fire erupts low in my spine, my release inching closer as I continue, harder and faster, chasing what I almost had in the treehouse. That fucking treehouse.
The place that ended it all will now be the start because now she knows.
She knows and she wants exactly the same thing.
She wants me.
My blood flares as my orgasm seizes every muscle in my body, Adelina’s name a tortured groan spilling from my mouth.
It could be ten fucking minutes that the electricity courses through me, frying every nerve ending, but somewhere in there, I hear it. The faint, unmistakable whimper.
My naughty girl.
How I’m able to form coherent sentences and talk to my mother right now is beyond me.
My pulse has yet to resume its normal beat, my skin feels nothing short of on fire, and the need in my core is so visceral, everything aches. I imagine it’s how I’d feel at the peak of an orgasm, only to have my trusty vibrator die.
Even still, part of me relishes in the desperation lingering in my veins. It means that everything that happened wasn’t another one of my dreams. It was real. Elliot and I were seconds away from finally reaching out and grasping what’s been dangling just out of reach for far too long. And it was everything I thought it would be.
No—more. His mouth fit mine in a way that made me feel as though I’d found something that was missing up until that point. His hand roved around my body as if he’d mapped it out before and committed every curve and dip to memory. And his words. The filthy words that exposed me for the many ways I’d envision what he’d do to me.
I wanted to tell him how I hadn’t just fantasized about what he’d mentioned but everything else . How turned on I was imagining pushing him to the brink. I wanted him obsessed in a way that meant I consumed his every thought.
It was dirty.
Depraved.
Taboo.
But I didn’t care. I wanted to break free from the shell I locked myself in and do and feel things only he could invoke in me. But now…well, things are complicated. Our parent’s arrival has altered things a bit. It’s a stark reminder that at the end of the day, he and I are still technically related, and nothing should or can happen. Especially with them here.
Still, my body doesn’t care about the logic behind the situation. It thrums, the nerves aching to follow behind Elliot. I’m so conflicted that I don’t hear my mother until she nudges my shoulder and clears her throat.
