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“I dare you…” I began, making sure to draw my words out, enhancing the tension that seemed to bubble up in the room as all eyes turned on Becky. “I dare you to go into that closet and play a good, old-fashioned game of Seven Minutes of Heaven with whatever guy I send in there after you.”
“Seven Minutes of What?” Jessica asked, her tone incredulous. “What is this, the eighties?”
“I… okay…” Becky said, biting her lip and glancing again at the dark-haired guy she’d been eying since we’d sat down. “Just seven minutes, right?”
“Becky!” Jessica exclaimed, her eyes wide. I did my best to hold in my laughter, watching Becky shrug in response to Jessica’s objections before she disappeared into the roomy walk-in closet and shut the door behind her.
Jessica turned her venomous gaze back on me as I combed over the prospective gentlemen in the room, deciding on whether I should grant Becky’s silent wish of having the young man she’d been eyeing be the one to play the game with her. Deciding to be merciful, I granted her wish, pointing at the charming boy and motioning him to follow after Becky for his seven minutes.
Another distressed sound from my stepsister told me that I’d once again made the perfect choice as the young man smirked and eagerly strode across the room. I couldn’t shake how familiar that guy felt as he closed the door after him, blocking both he and Becky from sight.
“While they’re doing that, let’s move on to the next victim,” I said, my eyes immediately resting on my stepsister, an enormous grin on my face. Her face went immediately went pale, her frown deepening as I tapped my chin in thought. “Jessica… Truth or—”
“Truth,” she interrupted, her hands clenched on the hem of her skirt, hoping that avoiding a dare might save her from any undue embarrassment. I couldn’t help but laugh at just how wrong she was. “I told you I wasn’t going to do any of your stupid dares, you creep.”
“You’re sure you want to go with Truth? I mean, you have to answer whatever I ask. You get that, right?” I asked, biting my lip as the perfect question came to mind. “I’ll let you have one takeback. Just because you’re my stepsister.”
“No, I told you I want ‘Truth,’ Richard. Now just ask your stupid question,” she said, crossing her arms tight over her chest in a huff. I settled back, looking at her right in those gorgeous eyes as I savored this precious moment before I dropped her into a whole new world of embarrassment.
You asked for it, I thought.
“Out of every single person in this room,” I began, my grin spreading from ear to ear as I spoke, “who do you want to fuck the most?”
I watched as her frown dissipated into an expression of the purest shock I’d ever seen on anyone’s face. I watched her eyes, expecting them to dart around the room, to find someone she’d been aching to go after for among the guests she’d invited, but the more I watched her, the more I realized that her eyes never wavered from me.
_ THREE _
Jessica
Who do you want to fuck the most?
“What?” I finally shouted as I sat up, fists clenched. My stepbrother had done some shitty things in the past, but this one would take the cake. He came into my party and took it over, turning my nice, quiet evening into some bacchanal. And now he had the gall to ask me who I wanted to sleep with?
The entire room was silent around my stepbrother and me. I could feel their stares boring into me as they waited for my response. Every pair of eyes was asking the same question again and again.
I could see some of the boys in the room sitting up, attentively waiting for my answer. I knew what they wanted to hear without them having to say a word. Every single man in that room was hoping I’d look into their eyes and confess my deep, unadulterated desire for their bodies, about how I’d always wanted to impale myself on their rigid members while I screamed out to the heavens how incredible they were in bed.
“You’re a real piece of shit, Richard.”
“I’ve been called worse,” he said, shrugging, that lazy smirk still plastered across his face, “but you’re the one who asked for ‘Truth,’ Jess. I mean, the easy thing to do would just be to tell everyone who you want to bone. That’s the whole point of ‘Truth’ in this game, after all—telling secrets.”
“Maybe I don’t want to tell anyone my secrets,” I said, glaring daggers at my stepbrother as he lounged back on his hands. I watched more than a few women looking at him as he sat there, biting their lips excitedly. I hated them for wanting him the same way I hated myself for wanting him. “This game is stupid.”
A resounding boo came from the people in the room, along with a few who stood in the doorway to observe. The sound came mostly from the men, who were still so eager to picture me laying prone in front of them with my ass in the air, begging for whatever they had passing for a penis.
“But those are the rules, Jess-ic-a,” my stepbrother said, accentuating every syllable of my name. “If you didn’t want to play by the rules, then you really shouldn’t have started to play.”
“I never said that I wanted to play your stupid game, Richard—”
“You sat down with everyone else,” he said, shrugging again. “Everyone’s playing, and now it’s your turn. You chose to tell a truth, and now that I’ve actually asked you one, you don’t want to play anymore. That’s not very sporting of you.”
“I don’t care,” I said. “Ask someone else that stupid question.”
I tried so hard not to look at him as he spoke, but my eyes constantly returned to the way his lips moved, so full and soft-looking—lips I’d dreamed time and time again of kissing in the heat of passion, with his cock buried inside of my body.
“It’s against the rules,” he said, his voice rising and falling as though he were singing a song. “You have to answer it.”
I hated the way Richard’s gorgeous eyes looked right through me, how they made my heart flutter and skip with just the slightest glance in my direction. I could already feel my insides beginning to squirm, my thighs clamped tight to deny the heat that was rising between them. I had butterflies, and those butterflies had butterflies.
“Ask me something else,” I said, arms crossed over my chest as I felt the scorching, concentrated glare of every man in the room on my breasts, imagining what they must really look like beneath my modest top. “Anything else.”
“But where’s the fun in that?” he asked, a laugh rising from the others in the crowd. “If it’s not embarrassing, then what’s the point?”
“I hate you,” I muttered, my fists clenched. I hated how sweaty my palms were, how nervous and excited his mere proximity made me. It was so hard to deny the wetness growing between my legs, not to mention uncomfortable.
That question rang over and over again in my mind: Who do you want to fuck the most?
And every time my mind asked the question, the answer was sitting right in front of me, his tasty-looking muscles rippling and moving whenever he shifted his weight. I licked my lips, trying my best to keep them from drying out. I wanted to hide, and at the same time, I wanted to crawl on top of my stepbrother and show him who I wanted inside of me the most.
A sound broke me away from my thoughts, one that I’d almost thought had come from my imagination. Everyone’s head turned to stare at the source of the low, deep moaning that had brought the rest of the room to complete silence. Slowly, grins began to spread across the faces of the guests, and suddenly Richard let out a chuckle before turning back to face me.
“Looks like Becky is having a fun seven minutes,” he said, grinning at me wickedly as I heard a few cheers rise up from a few of the men who sat around the room as the low, soft noises contin
ued, one loud and clear, the other was softer and muffled with a strangely rhythmic quality to it that I didn’t quite know how to explain.
“Go Michael!” one of the other guy’s shouted, laughing uproariously.
I clenched my fists tighter, feeling my nails digging hard into the heel of my palm as I realized what was happening. I hated that Becky was in there with Michael, and the image of her mouth wrapped around his hard cock intruded into my thoughts like a train wreck. It was hard to get it out of my head.
“See, Jess?” Richard asked, motioning toward the closet door. “Becky’s having fun with the game. Maybe if you’d relax and play along, we can all have fun.”
