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The house is quiet. Except for the clicking of heels against the floor. I half expected Rose to escape, to retreat to her neutral corner and avoid me. That is what she always does. We’ve been playing hide-and-seek for years.
“Like a box of fucking chocolates,” I whisper to myself. Rose is full of surprises. I was trying to prove a point before. I wanted to put her on the spot, to coerce her, maybe even force her. I am not above that. I thrive on control, on revving things up and getting engines running. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, ever since I met her, Rose Valentine has risen to meet me, she’s never backed down.
Fuck. If I died tonight, I’d die a happy man. The image of Rose on her knees before me, with her lips puckered around my cock, gagging on it, meeting me thrust for thrust, is seared into my memory. I will revel in it for as long as I live. I knew what I wanted from her, and I took it, I wasn’t expecting it to make me feel the way it did. Alive.
“What’s the hold up? The bartender was so much faster.” This little shit.
“I will drop an ice cube right down your dress like I’ve done many times in the past, Rose.” I walk across the marble foyer into the living room. The furniture is back to its assigned spot. The cleaning crew has this job down pat. The last guest left an hour ago, together with our parents, and we find ourselves in a spotless house, with a damn fire roaring in the fireplace.
“Frozen water in the shape of a cube, how will I ever survive?” She deadpans without looking up while she undoes the strap of her heels. The heels she dug into my back while my face was buried in her pussy. Of all the things I thought might happen tonight, that was the furthest one from my mind.
I’m staring. Shamelessly. Memories of what happened just down the corridor make it impossible for me to be subtle about it.
“Snap the hell out of it, James. You are creeping. Me. Out.” Rose is waving her hand in front of my face. I blink back my recollections and hand her her drink, taking a seat next to her on the oversized couch. I can’t read her. The tone, the sass, this is the stepsister I take pleasure in taunting but she’s also a fucking temptress whose scent I have been wearing for the last two hours. It is driving me insane.
“Apologies. Thirsty, are we?” I am not above playing to my strengths. I place the crystal tumbler in her hand. Blue irises retreat and focus on her drink. She swirls it twice before letting it moisten her pouty lips. And just like that, I have lost Rose to her thoughts. Her body is here, but her mind has taken her far away.
No way in hell am I going to lose the headway we made tonight. I take the drink from her and set hers and mine on the coffee table.
“Hey! I am actually thirsty,” she grunts her frustration at giving me the answer I wanted.
“Oh, sweet Rose, I know you are.” I stretch and glide my fingers over the lower part of her calf, her leg jerks in response, so I am quick to secure a hold of her ankle. “Relax, would you? Those shoes are fuck-me hot,” Rose hesitates but decides not to look me in the eye, “but I know your feet are hurting. Allow me?” I dig my thumb into the sole of her left foot, earning myself a satisfied sigh.
“Your thoughts are screaming at me, s—” Fuck, force of habit. I catch myself before it’s too late. Calling her ‘sis’ will not help my case right now. Her face scrunches in response and the foot I’m holding gets yanked from my hands. Rose grabs her drink again, taking a long swig, placing it back on the table and returning to her end of the couch. She’s looking small on the huge sofa all of a sudden.
“Just tell me what’s in that little head of yours?” I decide to lean into my mistake, it is not like she isn’t thinking about it already. “I am your older, much wiser brother, after all.”
“Ha, ha. Very funny.”
“That too.”
Rose doesn’t dare to look up, she keeps her gaze steady and straight ahead, focused on nothing. The brother wants to tease, the man with a plan knows better. Silence is the way to go. Alcohol will play in my favor one way or the other.
“Are you single, James?” Her question takes me by surprise. Judging by her reaction, she reads it on my features.
“That’s what you are thinking about?” I try to reach for her foot again, but she folds her legs and sits on them. “I am always single, Rose,” I admit. A passing thought of the reason behind that statement tries to sneak into my head. My mind is well-trained, the walls I have carefully crafted around it work their magic pulling me away from that dark pit.
Rose grabs one of the seventeen decorative pillows Mom’s littered the couch with and hugs it tight to her chest. “I haven’t been single… I’ve been with Greg since I started as a curator at the gallery. Four years.” Her hand moves to support the weight of her head and her thoughts. “He had just gotten a promotion and was looking for a piece to hang in his new office.”
“I’m not following, Rose.” My remark comes up short on joviality, the mention of her ex always has this effect on me. Fucking good for nothing pretty boy.
“Just that you and I are very different, Jay.” Fuck. She hasn’t called me that in a very long time. I can’t decide if it’s good or bad. “What happened tonight,” her pillow is both buoy and shield, “was all sorts of messed up. It can’t happen again. Ever.”
If the thought of Greg warmed up my blood, this thought sends it beyond boiling point. “And why is that, buttercup? Because from where I was standing, and kneeling, it sure as fuck looked like you were enjoying yourself.” I don’t give her a choice, I pull her legs towards me and set her feet on my lap.
The best way to counter her thoughts is to be a literal cock tease. I use her heel and rub it on my crotch. “You wanted rebound sex? I’m fucking providential. In every sense of the word.”
“This between us, it’s wrong… Mom and Dad would, I don’t even fucking know what they would think. They’d think it’s gross!”
Fuck subtle.
“Do you think it’s gross, Rosy girl?”
“Don’t call me that! You are such an asshole.” She straightens up, facing me head on, nose pointing to the sky. Defiant and sexy as fuck.
“If Dad can call you that, then can’t your aspiring Daddy call you that too?” Rose’s pupils dilate at my words, but there is shock there too. Shock is good. Shock, I can work with.
I lunge across the couch and grab her by the waist. One confident tug and she’s straddling my lap. Her chest is rising at the fast-paced rhythm of her panting. Her nipples begging for attention through the thin layer of her rebellious outfit. She relaxes her muscles and allows her weight to fall onto my lap, I know she can feel me hardening right under her.
