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And I had liked it.
“It looks kind of rough here,” I said as I pulled in to park on the street. I looked nervously around at the battered old halfway house, the buildings nearby with smashed windows, the little convenience store where a group of skinheads stood outside.
Torin smiled. “I’m rough too,” he said, his fingers rubbing back and forth on my neck. “But you should never come here without me, Lele. It would be dangerous for you if you aren’t with me.”
Then I felt his fingers spread and curve under my collar. My skin prickled and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up at his touch.
I looked over at him and his eyes gleamed in the dark.
He ran his other hand up my thigh, his fingers stopping just short of my wet cunt, my release, his release soaking my panties.
“You’re going to be late!” I squeaked. “You know your curfew is midnight!”
Torin pulled me into his lap and I gasped as I felt his hard cock underneath me, rubbing into where my cunt was barely hidden by the thin fabric. He bent his head to my neck, running his tongue down my throat.
“Then you better come fast, sister,” he said. “I’m not leaving until I feel you on my cock.”
I stifled a gasp, and I felt him pull down my leggings, grunting with pleasure as he yanked aside my soaked panties. His fingers were rough on my skin.
“Fuck,” he said. “I love how soft and wet you are.” His hands wandered, almost wonderingly, over the skin on my ass, then my hips.
It was so gentle that my breath hitched. His tongue was flicking at the soft hollow at the base of my throat, and I felt my arousal begin to run down my thighs, onto his pants.
“Torin!” I cried, trying to push him away, talk some sense into him. “You have to go inside! It could delay your parole release if you don’t make curfew!”
But he only reached down and unzipped his pants, pulling out his cock. Then he lowered me onto his hard length, his head falling back with the pleasure of his sister’s wet cunt encasing him. I felt a shot of erotic lust and need, and I began to ride him.
His head snapped up and he yanked impatiently at my shirt, popping my buttons and ripping at my bra, running his tongue eagerly over my skin, curving over my nipple and drawing it into his mouth.
“Ride me sister,” he said, his voice low and commanding, and I did, riding my brother until his tongue created a smoldering fire inside me and I released again all over my brother’s cock, his possession loud in my ear as he filled me.
Chapter Nine
The next afternoon after lunch and my busiest rush was over, I closed the bakery early and headed over to the halfway house. Drew had texted and said Russ was still thinking about reporting Torin.
Did you tell him what I said I would do? I wrote, my fingers flying over the keys. I had to alert Torin that Drew and Russ might report him, although I hoped my threat to Russ would prevent it.
I looked a bit apprehensively at the halfway house, but I parked carefully in front of it. In the light of day, the street looked even more dangerous than it had last night—the dilapidated halfway house was near a beat-up corner store and the men hanging around in front of it seemed to watch me with sharp eyes. I kept my keys clutched in my hand and hurried to the front door.
It was opened to me by a tall man in his 30s with long, stringy hair and tattoos.
“I’m here to speak to Torin Reilly,” I said, holding the keys so tightly that my fingers ached.
I looked behind the man to see the sparse, utilitarian bedrooms.
Oh god, what if he had already been taken back to jail?
Instead of letting me inside, the man shut the door and joined me on the stoop.
“Are you Torin’s sister?” he asked. “You look like him.”
“I just want to see him,” I said, ignoring his question and feeling the panic rise in me.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw some of the men from the corner store slowly detach and walk toward us.
The stringy-haired man leered toward me, his long nails scraping my arm as he grabbed me by the arm.
“I just want to have a little fun with you,” he said.
