Steamy Shorts and Prompts

Alex’s mother married Natalie’s father and a competition blossoms between Alex and Natalie. They can’t stand each other. However, when Natalie finds out that Alex’s girlfriend is abusing him, she must step in to help him.

I hate my step-brother. It’s cliché, I know, but I can’t help it. He’s arrogant and cocky and he rats me out to my dad all the time. Granted, I rat him out to his mother at every opportunity he presents me with, but that’s beside the point.

Alex is one of those guys that thinks his mere presence is a gift to those around him. He thinks he’s funny. He thinks that his dirty blond hair and green eyes and his dimples make him adorable, or hot, or both. Maybe they do to some girls, but to me, he’s a pain in the arse.

And don’t get me started on the competition he thinks there is between us. There isn’t any competition. I swim, play guitar, bake, and paint. He climbs, plays piano, bakes, and sculpts. We are two very different people. And I’m smarter than him. Even if he won’t admit it.

“Honey, I’m home!”

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. I glance up from my English homework. A-levels are next month and I am on-track for two A-stars and an A, which is what I need to get into Oxford University. The last thing I need is Alex distracting me.

Fate is not on my side today, however, as Alex shoots me a too-wide grin, dumps his sports bag in the middle of the hallway and heads straight towards me, leaving the front door open.

“I’m working. Go away.”

Alex ignores my warning and a sense of foreboding settles in my gut as he sheds his shirt.

“Don’t.”

His eyes twinkle with mischief and he balls his sweaty shirt up and shoves it in my face, holding the back of my head to prevent my escape. I gag at the foul odour. He must have been at the climbing centre.

I smack his arms away and startle when the front door slams shut. I glance up to find his uptight girlfriend scowling at me from the hallway, face like a slapped arse.

I force a smile. “You brought Courtney over. Yay.”

I splutter as Alex throws the shirt at me again and it clings to my face for a nauseating moment, filling my nose with a scent putrid enough to make babies cry.

“C’mon, Nat. You love Courtney,” he teases as he wanders into the kitchen.

“Sure don’t,” I grumble and she waltzes past me - all five-foot-eight of her - with her straight, black hair and muscular frame from all the climbing she does with Alex.

I’m not little myself - musculature-wise anyway - not with all the swimming I do. Height is another matter entirely; I’m five-foot-five with curvy tits and a round ass that ensure I’ll never be a professional swimmer. Better than being a flat plank with a six-pack like Courtney though. Not that I have anything against people who look like that - I just don’t like anything about Courtney.

“Bitch,” Courtney mutters under her breath as she strides past me.

“Troll,” I bite back and she flips her ponytail and whips me in the face with it.

Alex has such fantastic taste when it comes to women. His last girlfriend was stellar too; went to prison for stabbing someone in the eyeball with a blunt pencil because he accidentally spilled coffee over her book. Don’t work at Starbucks, folks.

You probably think I’m a bitch. I don’t seem to like anyone, right? I promise I’m actually not a bad person. I love my dad, and Bethany - Alex’s mum - is really sweet. We get along great. Honest.

Alex also has an older brother, Steven, who is in his third year of university and he’s pretty great too. He’s studying to be a doctor and I know he’s going to pass everything with flying colours.

I have a few close friends and I don’t really have a problem with anyone at college. I love all of my teachers. The only people I have a problem with are the two idiots in the kitchen.

Alex has rubbed me the wrong way since the day we met three years ago and Courtney… well, Courtney was a bully in high school and as soon as she started messing around with Alex, she tried her tricks on me. Unlike her victims in high school, I won’t take her shit and we have come to blows before. Naturally, Alex always takes Courtney’s side, because he’s a dick.

“I want to go out tonight though,” I hear Courtney whine from the kitchen. I lower my gaze to my English homework, pretending that I’m not eavesdropping. Hey, I never claimed to be perfect.

“I’ve got coursework to finish. The deadline is Friday, but that doesn’t mean you can’t go,” Alex says.

“I’m not going alone. I’d look pathetic. Just come.”

“Courtney, I can’t. I have to get an A in French if I want to go to Cambridge.”

Yes, that’s right. I applied to Oxford so Alex applied to Cambridge. No competition between us whatsoever.

“You are so selfish. It’s Abbie’s birthday. You can’t not come.” Courtney’s voice is so grating. Like fingernails down a blackboard.

“I’m sorry, but I have to study. Besides, Abbie’s your friend. She won’t care if I come or not.”

“Alex.”

“No, Courtney. My future is important.”

“So, what? I’m not important to you, then? Is that what you’re saying?”

“What? No. That’s not what I said. Don’t twist my words.”

“You can be such a dick sometimes, Alex.” There go the waterworks.

One of the reasons I hate Courtney so much is because she is a manipulative, deceitful monster. I have no idea why Alex puts up with her but if he wants to torture himself, then I’ll put my feet up and watch with a bucket of popcorn because their dysfunctional relationship never ceases to entertain me.

“...Alright, fine. I’ll come. I’ll pull an all-nighter tomorrow.”

It’s amazing how quickly the tears stop. “Thank you so much, Alex. You’re the best.” I gag as I hear her kiss him. Probably one of those full tongue, teeth clashing horrors - like a female black widow spider attempting to devour its partner.

“Make me a latte?” Courtney asks (demands) once they’ve finished eating each other’s faces.

“Sure, babe.”

I roll my eyes and continue my work.

The next time I hear them arguing is during the summer break. Exams are over and everyone is waiting anxiously for results. Alex turned eighteen two weeks ago and I’ll be turning eighteen myself in five. Alex and Courtney are in the kitchen again and I pause just outside the door when I hear how lowly Alex is speaking.

“No, Courtney. I don’t want to do that.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.” He sounds uncomfortable now. “I just don’t want to. The same reason you don’t.”

“It’ll be fun. Come on, don’t be such a pussy.”

“No.” The tone catches me off guard. What on earth are they talking about?

“How do you know you don’t like it if you’ve never tried it? Come on, it’ll be hot.”

“Yeah? Are you going to let me stick it in your arse?”

Oh, gross. There are things about their relationship that I don’t need to picture. Still, I press my ear against the door because Hayley, Jess, and Christie will love this. Like me, they also hate Courtney (although they think Alex is hot, which means I don’t take dating advice from any of them).

“Don’t be disgusting,” hisses Courtney.

“Exactly! Why on earth would you think that I want it in mine?”

“Some men like it.”

“Not all of them.”

“Fine. I guess we just won’t have sex then.” Manipulative bitch strikes again. I shake my head and wait for Alex’s inevitable response…

“...Alright. We can try it. Once. But if I don’t like it, we get rid of it. Deal?”

“Deal.” Her voice is as sweet as sugar and I stifle a laugh.

She won’t get rid of it because Courtney always gets her way.

Despite my disgust for Alex and Courtney’s relationship, at least they have been going strong for two years now. I, on the other hand, have been through three boyfriends in eight months.

At least I got into Oxford. Thanks to a B in French, Alex didn’t get into Cambridge, which brings me some small amount of joy. His second choice was Oxford, which he did get into and that brings me some small amount of pain.

Because he lives in the room three doors down from mine. With his girlfriend.

Courtney has her own room in a different building, but she prefers Alex’s.

At least we don’t take the same course.

We’re in our first semester and yet another of my highlighter sets have gone missing. I wonder who could have taken them?

I bang my fist against Alex’s door. “I know you took my highlighters. Give them back.”

It is a long time before the door opens and I pull a face as I catch a glimpse of Courtney naked on the bed. At least Alex had the decency to throw a dressing gown around himself. He hasn’t pulled it tight enough to cover his dick, but hey ho, A for effort.

He frowns at me. “What?”

I hold my hand out. “Highlighters.”

He stares at my palm. “What?” he repeats, intelligently.

“In my bag,” Courtney huffs from the bed. “Hurry up, Alex. The sight of your sister is making me nauseous.”

“Step-sister,” Alex grumbles as he fishes through her bag. I make a point of raking my gaze over her nude body and she makes a point of letting me.

I smile. “I think aged milk has more sex appeal than you, Courtney.”

Her expression twists into something akin to a deformed duck. “At least I can keep a man, Natalie.”

“At least I’m not a lying, thieving dirtbag.”

Alex shoves the pack of highlighters into my hand as Courtney’s gaze fills with fire. I don’t know when I took a step into the room but Alex pushes me out into the corridor. I frown at him and find his features pinched into a strange expression. He’s almost squinting at me. Wait, what’s that below his eye-?

He slams the door in my face. I blink at it and shrug.

Must have been the dim lighting.

I’m asleep when I hear the slam. I shoot upright and creep towards the spy hole in my door in time to see Courtney storming down the corridor, away from Alex’s room.

I check the clock. 2:12am.

She is so disrespectful.

With a shake of my head, I return to bed.

I haven’t seen Courtney creep into Alex’s room for four days. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen Alex for four days.

Weird.

They make up. They always do. Six days is a record though, I think.

Alex is acting weird.

He’s usually bouncy and annoying and he tries to be funny. Recently, he’s been venturing out of his room to eat and bathe and that’s about it. He barely talks and he’s been wearing a lot of scruffy hoodies, where before he used to wear gym clothes any chance he got.

“I think something’s wrong,” admits Daniel, his best friend. He looks worried. “He doesn’t talk to me anymore. I think he’s hiding something.”

I think he’s right.

I shouldn’t care, but strangely, I do. Because Alex isn’t a bad guy. Yes, he’s irritating and competitive and he teases me mercilessly, but he isn’t cruel or abusive and - come to think of it - he did chase Aaron off when he started posting those creepy, perverted love notes through our letterbox. Aaron, who was twenty-seven when I was sixteen.

Alex isn’t a villain. In fact, I’m starting to miss our banter.

I should check on him.

I stride out of the kitchen and towards his room. I bang on his door. After a minute or so, he opens it slowly so I can only see half of his face. He is wearing one of the grey hoodies he seems so fond of these days.

I frown. “Not seen you in a while. Everything okay?”

His lips part.

“Ugh, is that Natalie? What does that ugly bitch want now?”

“Charming,” I scoff but pause when Alex’s mouth clamps shut with an audible click. I shoot him a questioning glance and try to push further into the room but he holds the door firmly, preventing my entrance.

I scowl in frustration at him but my expression fades at his exhausted gaze.

“Alex?” I ask quietly and something behind his eyes (or at least the one that I can see) shifts. He licks his lips and his gaze darts quickly to the bed, where Courtney is most likely lying, before returning to me. My eyes widen. I have never seen that expression on Alex before.

“Get rid of her, dumbass,” Courtney snaps and Alex flinches.

My jaw falls slack and Alex stares at me for a moment before he stretches his arm out to rest against the door frame, blocking my entrance. I track the movement and notice he has rolled his sleeve to his elbow. There are deep wounds in the underside of his forearm - four of them to be precise. They are too long to be puncture wounds, too widely spaced to be from an animal. They look fairly recent.

I return my focus to Alex’s face and my breath catches at the pain in his gaze.

He closes the door slowly and doesn’t utter a word.

I’m shaking. With fury or worry, I’m not sure, but it doesn’t take a genius to work out that Alex’s actions earlier were a silent plea for help.

I run a hand through my wavy brown hair. I need to get Courtney away from him. Who knows how long this has been going on for?

Alex doesn’t deserve this. I don’t want him to be like this - this defeated, broken shell of a man. Courtney has to be stopped.

I have to help him.

I wait for Courtney to leave for morning lectures. Alex’s lectures start an hour later on a Tuesday, so I hover behind my door, peering through my spy hole, and when Alex steps into the corridor, I shoot out and drag him into my room.

He looks shocked but he doesn’t protest, so I lock my door behind us and stare at him, finding myself speechless for the first time in a very long while.

Slowly, painfully slowly, he sheds his hoodie, then his T-shirt and my breath hitches in horror.

He’s battered. Bruises litter his skin and what I’m realising are fingernail wounds rake down his sides and arms. One of his eyes is darkened and his lip is split up the middle. Some wounds dip below his waistband and old scars pepper his flesh.

“How long?” I breathe, eyes glazed with tears that surprise me.

He shrugs. “Started in college.” He sounds so flat. Emotionless.

I choke a little and trace gentle fingers down one of the claw marks on his left arm. He lets me, staring blankly at the wound. This is not my step-brother. This is a shattered husk of a man.

I pull him into my arms and he stiffens for a moment before burying his face into my neck. His hands snake around my back and I feel his cool tears on my skin. His sobs are silent and I find myself stroking his hair until he finds his voice, and then I struggle to hold back my own tears because his quiet, choked-off cries are heart-wrenching.

I hold him closer and wonder what I’m supposed to do now.

I can hear her outside, asking if anyone has seen Alex. They tell her no because they don’t know that he’s in here with me; that he’s been in here with me all day.

I wrap my arm tighter around his middle and he presses his back into my chest. I curl around him, eyes on the door, and scowl when she starts banging on it.

“Natalie, I know you’re in there. Where’s Alex?”

Alex curls into a ball.

“Open up you ugly cow! I know you know where he is.”

My mouth thins and I squeeze Alex gently.

“If you don’t open this door right now, I swear I’m going to break it!”

Alex looks at me sharply and I grit my teeth. “Piss off, Courtney. I’m trying to sleep. Why would I know where your boyfriend is? Don’t you have him on a leash?”

I wince as the truth of those words sink in. I’d had no idea what she was doing to him. I knew she was manipulative; that she emotionally manipulated him all the time, but I didn’t know she physically abused him as well. I’d thought him an idiot for going along with her temper tantrums and tears - I didn’t know that he’d had no choice.

I should have said something earlier. Should have stepped in years ago, when I’d first seen the signs. Instead, I’d let him suffer in silence because I’d thought him annoying.

We both jump when she kicks the door. It’s locked, so it doesn’t open, but these doors aren’t particularly sturdy and a few kicks like that will likely break them.

“Oi! Do that again and I’ll call maintenance and tell them you’re trying to damage university property,” I snap, keeping a tight grip on Alex when he begins to breathe too shallowly.

“Is he in there with you?” Courtney demands and my veins turn icy.

“Why would he be in here?” I scoff, hoping she doesn’t recognise my hesitation. “Haven’t you figured out yet that I can’t stand either of you?”

She’s quiet for a few moments. “Whatever,” she huffs before we hear her footsteps fade away.

I breathe a sigh of relief and Alex turns in my arms and snuggles into my chest. I stroke his fluffy hair and watch him relax properly for the first time all day. He closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep, and I watch him for a long while before following his lead.

I hide him from her for a week before we both start receiving emails about poor attendance.

He looks better now that his bruises and wounds have had time to heal. He’s still quiet and subdued but at least he doesn’t look quite as broken.

Still, I can see that he’s scared to leave my room. He’s done it before - a few times actually - to go to the bathroom, but he did that in the middle of the night when Courtney wasn’t stalking the halls, searching for him. Now he’ll have to go during the day time, where she’ll likely see him.

“I could drop out. Go home,” he says to me quietly the following Monday.

I shake my head angrily. “And let her take your future away? No. She doesn’t get to do that.”

I wonder, not for the first time, why he didn’t fight back. Why he didn’t hit her every time she hit him.

He blinks at me then nods slowly, so I take his arm and we step into the corridor. The other students look surprised to see us but they wave and don’t notice the makeup I’ve applied to Alex’s face to hide the abuse.

It takes two more days for Courtney to sniff him out like a blood-thirsty hound.

I’m finishing some coursework when I hear the thud and Courtney’s hushed, but furious voice.

Our neighbours are still in class or out for lunch, so Courtney obviously thinks she has the floor to herself. That she is alone with Alex.

I fly out of my room like a raging bull and find that she is already raising her hand to strike him. Alex flinches away from her but the blow never lands because I plough into Courtney, screaming threats of bloody murder as I do so.

We crash onto the floor, kicking and clawing at one another and although she’s stronger than me, I have adrenaline on my side. I land some heavy punches and rake my short nails down her face, smirking triumphantly when blood trickles down her cheek.

“An eye for an eye,” I spit as I drive my knuckles into her left eye, and she yells in pain as I ready myself for another strike.

Suddenly, strong arms wrap around my chest and pull me back and when I find that they belong to Alex, for a brief, horrifying moment I worry that he is trying to defend her - that he still has screwed-up feelings for her.

But then, he strokes his thumb over my cheek, wiping away my own blood and I wince as the wound there begins to sting.

He whips around to face her as she picks herself off the floor and straightens out her shirt. “Get out,” he growls.

She narrows her eyes. “What did you just say to me?” I watch her muscles tense, ready for another fight.

Alex clenches his fists and takes a step towards her. “I said: leave us alone before I beat the living shit out of you.”

She freezes, eyes wide with shock. She clearly isn’t used to Alex standing up to her and I feel a swell of pride in my chest.

“You wouldn’t dare,” she hisses and Alex takes another step forwards.

“Try me,” he warns.

“I’ll have you arrested for assault.”

I burst into laughter. It isn’t funny, not really, but I just can’t believe how stupid she is.

They both stare at me, surprised and I sober enough to glare at Courtney. “You think I didn’t take pictures of what you did to him? That I don’t have three years’ worth of abuse that I can quote back to the police?”

Her jaw clicks shut.

I smile thinly. “Get out. And don’t come back.”

She probably thinks that if she leaves now, I won’t go to the police. She’s wrong. I’m going to tell them anyway. She cannot be allowed to do any of this to someone else.

Once she’s out of sight, Alex relaxes and turns to me with a frown. He takes me into the bathroom and begins cleaning me up and I find myself smiling, proud of him for standing up for himself.

He catches my smile and a smaller one tugs at his lips for the first time in months. I grin and throw my arms around him.

I’ve never noticed how handsome Alex is. It strikes me when he’s eating cereal in the kitchen one morning.

It has been a few months since he kicked Courtney to the curb and we are now in our second year of university. He goes to the university counsellor every now and then and he’s learning how to take care of himself again.

He looks good. Really good. He’s all healed and he’s starting to talk a bit more. Our parents know about everything because after I went to the police, they were questioned. They didn’t know anything about Courtney’s abuse either, but they were more upset that Alex hadn’t told them. I’m angry too, but not with him. I’m angry at myself for not acting sooner; for thinking that Alex deserved someone like Courtney. For not checking in with him because I had convinced myself that I hated him. That I found their dysfunctional relationship entertaining.

It turns out that I had missed Alex’s teasing. I had forgotten how playful he could be when he wasn’t attached to Courtney by a thick chain. I hadn’t noticed how much she had twisted and bent his personality. She had turned him into something that even he disliked.

He smiles more now. He’s more relaxed. We’ve never been all that close but something has changed between us and I find myself drifting towards him more often than not. It’s… strange.

I’ve missed seeing his dimples when he smiles.

Anyway, I’m glad he’s getting better.

We go home for the Christmas holidays. We forgot to tell our parents that we would be doing that so when we get home and find the house empty, we text them to ask where they are. Turns out they’re visiting Steven and were planning on seeing us next. They decide to stay with Steven an extra couple of days and then they’ll come straight home to see us.

Which means Alex and I have the house for the weekend. We’re exhausted from driving all day so we decide to have a movie night. We snuggle under a blanket and when Alex steals it from me with a grin, I grab a second blanket and make a despairing sound in the back of my throat when I realise that he has already eaten half of the toffee popcorn I made three minutes ago.

He’s such an arse.

I sit beside him on the couch, surprised when he slings an arm around my shoulders. It’s… nice.

We argue about what to watch but I’m the one with the remote and he grumbles when I pick a romantic comedy over yet another Jason Statham film.

Half way through the film, I fall asleep. When I wake up, the TV is off and the only light in the room is a dim lamp beside one of the other couches. I look up into green eyes and find myself lying on Alex’s chest; both of us stretched out on the couch and him studying me quietly.

The room is otherwise silent and my cheeks heat when I realise his arm is wrapped around me. He continues to observe me and for some reason, I can’t take my eyes off his face either. I see now why my friends think he’s so handsome and shame curls in my belly at the thought. I shouldn’t be thinking that way about my step-brother; especially after everything he has been through.

Still, I can’t help it and I swallow when he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers are very gentle and his lips look so soft.

I want him to touch me. Intimately, I mean. I think he would if I asked him to.

For that reason, I pry myself off him, ignoring his disappointed expression. “I’m going to bed,” I murmur. “Good night.”

“Good night,” he replies quietly and there’s emotion hidden behind those simple words - an emotion he isn’t allowed to have for me.

I leave him there on the couch, looking soft and vulnerable and half-hidden by darkness.

The next morning, the air is rife with tension. Not the sort of tension you would expect either.

I forgot how determined Alex can be when he sets his sights on something. I am the same way - it’s why there was so much competition between us in college (even though I tried to deny it).

I’m reaching for a cup to pour my tea into. The shelf isn’t that high, but I do have to stretch a little for it. Alex is washing up the few cups and dishes from the previous night and I see the shift behind his eyes as he watches me; the way his gaze drifts to the exposed, pale skin of my stomach from where my pyjama top has ridden up.

“Here, let me,” he says and I don’t have a chance to move before he’s behind me, reaching effortlessly for the cup and pressing his crotch against my arse.

We are both in thin sleepwear and neither of us wear underclothes to bed. I can feel every inch of his soft dick and I would be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it.

He places the cup on the worktop, leaning against me as he does so and his whole frame curves around me. He’s broad and he has four inches on me, and his tanned skin is soft and warm. My eyes flutter closed, lips parting as he rocks his hips - just a touch - against my arse.

Then, he’s gone, and it takes a moment for me to recompose myself. I turn to him, the dark look in my eyes not quite vanished and he sends me a charming grin and continues to wash the dishes.

I sober myself. I’m not allowed to have him. Not allowed to even want him. It has only been a few months since Courtney, not to mention our parents are married to each other.

He’s off limits.

We decide to spend Sunday afternoon baking treats for our parents to arrive home to. It’s one of our shared hobbies and neither of us fancies leaving the house since we only got home yesterday.

The moment I begin beating the eggs, I see the cogs turning in his mind.

“You’re not doing it fast enough,” he says and I glare at him.

“I think I know how to beat eggs, Alex. I’ve been doing it since I was six.”

“Doing it wrong,” he challenges as he approaches and I shake my head at him and turn my back. What he can’t see, he can’t complain about.

My breath hitches when his hands snake around me and suddenly, I’m in a similar position to the one I was in this morning.

His hand covers mine on the wooden spoon and he weaves the fingers of his other hand between mine on the bottom of the mixing bowl. His body presses flush against mine and his lips brush my ear.

“You’re still doing it wrong,” he growls quietly and the sound shoots straight to my crotch.

He beats the eggs faster and I can feel every flexion and extension of the muscles in his arm. His stubble grazes my cheek and he’s so close that I can smell the cologne I bought him for his birthday.

I feel him roll his hips against my arse again and I push into the movement instinctively.

“Like that,” he purrs into my ear and I’m not sure if it’s a statement about the beating technique or a question about whatever else is going on between us.

It has been a long time since I’ve slept with anyone. Over a year, actually. I’ve forgotten how good it feels to have a man hold me like this - a man I like, anyway.

I find myself arching a little more into him and I feel his cock harden slightly as he rocks against me. His left hand wanders from the mixing bowl to my stomach, splaying possessively over it, and my underwear begins to dampen.

Then, just like this morning, he pulls away and continues preparing the buttercream filling.

I take a few moments to catch my breath and turn to him with an incredulous look. He winks at me.

I place the bowl of thoroughly beaten eggs on the worktop.

Screw off limits. This is war.

That night when I shower, I make sure to ‘forget’ my pyjamas in my room. I hear Alex’s door open and him head towards the bathroom, waiting for me to finish so he can get ready, and when I am sure he is standing just outside, I strut into the hallway and let him get a good look at me for a moment before I make a haphazard attempt at covering myself with my hands and the rumpled clothes I had worn this afternoon.

I see him shift his weight and subtly try to readjust himself and I smile at him sweetly. “Forgot my clothes.”

I stride past him into my room.

I wonder what he’ll think when he realises I ‘accidentally’ left my underwear next to the sink?

* * *

Our parents are due to arrive Monday evening. I start my day with a few exercises and ten minutes of yoga. I turn my music on and not five minutes in, Alex bursts into my room, holding my panties and bra from last night.

“You forgot these last night,” he says as he tosses them onto my bed. “Kept them safe in my room for you.”

Heat creeps over my skin as I think about all the reasons he would keep my underwear in his room overnight. It doesn’t escape my notice that he is shirtless. Alex usually sleeps in a shirt.

His gaze roams over my body shamelessly as I relax out of my pose. He doesn’t leave so I continue my routine, aware that his eyes never drift from my body, clad in my workout gear.

Half way through, he saunters over and copies me, mere inches away. He’s so close that I can feel his body heat.

It’s… weirdly calming. Peaceful. I think he feels the same way because he says nothing until my routine is over and I turn to switch my music off.

Before I can, he catches my arm and twirls me around to face him and within seconds, we are slow dancing to an Ed Sheeran song I don’t even like.

I find myself relaxing into his body, sliding my hand up his bare chest as he winds his arm tight around my waist. Green eyes meet blue and my throat grows dry as I realise how desperately I want him to kiss me.

With his other hand, he brushes his thumb over my cheek. It feels like hours before the next song begins, and it’s an upbeat number that I’ve never heard before. Alex smirks and moves his hand from my waist to my arse and I push closer to him in encouragement. His smirk widens as he squeezes my arse and I throw my leg over his hip, raising an eyebrow when I feel that he’s already hard.

His cheeks turn rosy and he loses some of his confidence, and now it’s my time to smirk and rock my hips against him.

He slides his hand down the back of my thigh and our eyes still haven’t left one another. I slip a hand between us, rubbing his dick slowly through his soft cotton pyjamas and his breath hitches in surprise as his eyes flutter closed. His lips part and I’m suddenly fascinated with how responsive he is.

I drop my leg from his hip and try a different pressure on his cock and a tiny frown creases his brow as he tries to pull me closer.

I lighten my touch and his long eyelashes flutter against his cheeks before his green gaze is on me once more. He breathes a fraction shallower and reaches between my legs, but I catch his hand before he can touch. He stares at me in surprise when I grip his wrist, but I must do something he likes with my fingers because he makes a soft sound and pulls me tight to his body with his free hand.

There is a damp patch forming on the front of his pyjamas and, feeling bold, I snake my hand into them and explore his hard dick. He makes a choked sound and locks gazes with me, and I tease at him and squeeze when he’s least expecting it. He makes beautiful, needy sounds for me, but I’m caught off guard when he buries his nose into my neck.

It strikes me that the last person to touch him was Courtney, and I don’t imagine she was too gentle with him. I don’t imagine she cared about him at all.

I dip my hand lower, cupping his balls, and he makes a curious sound before I start to massage them. He rocks into my palm with quiet groans and I find myself releasing his wrist in favour of weaving our fingers together. He grips my hand tight and nuzzles into my neck and I continue to explore him - to comb my fingers through his pubic hair and play with his balls and milk his leaking cock. I savour the feeling of him and when I sweep my finger over the head of his dick, he comes with a needy whimper.

I hold his dick possessively and he squeezes me tightly. We stand there in silence for a few moments before he pulls away from me, red-faced and what I’m almost certain are dried tear tracks streaked down his cheeks. He shuffles out of my room and I hear the shower flip on.

I glance down at my hand - at the fluid covering it.

I wonder where this puts us.

Thankfully, our parents don’t notice the tension between us. They probably think we’ve gone back to the way we were before - before university, before Courtney - when we were constantly irritated by one another’s very existence.

Alex doesn’t look at me during dinner and I wonder if he’s ashamed; if he regrets what we did. Discomfort prickles at my skin when Alex barely speaks during the evening and I wonder if I have pushed him too fast. Have I forced him backwards in his healing process? Have I triggered bad memories? Have I hurt him?

I mull over these depressing thoughts whilst I get dressed for bed and head into my room. I startle when I find Alex waiting for me on the edge of my bed.

I lock the door behind me.

He smiles and my breath catches in my throat. He looks soft and approachable in just his pyjama bottoms, but his hair is ruffled and his gaze is sultry and it isn’t fair how effortlessly sexy he is.

He stands and prowls towards me and I watch as he starts to unbutton my pyjamas. Once I’m naked, he steps back and drinks in every inch of my body and I should probably be self-conscious, but this is all so exhilarating and fun, and Alex’s grin has grown even wider since I first entered.

He reaches out and cups my left breast; massages it for a few moments before brushing his thumb over my sensitive nipple.

I catch his wrist, halting his movements, and give him a serious look.

“Is this really what you want?”

He looks surprised for a few seconds before his gaze softens and he curves an arm around my waist, pulling me against him.

“Yes,” he says quietly, sincerely, and I swallow because for some reason I hadn’t expected that.

He tucks my brunette hair behind my ear and cups my cheek. Then, his lips meet mine and it isn’t earth-shattering or ground-breaking, but it’s good. Really good. His lips are as soft as they look, maybe softer, and he’s wearing the cologne I bought him. He smells of musk and vanilla and his body is warm and pliant against mine.

I tug at the waistband of his pyjamas because I want to feel him; all of him. He chuckles against my mouth and pulls away to shed the last piece of clothing separating my skin from his.

When he crowds against me, pulling me into another kiss, I melt against him. I hold him tight, splaying my hands over his back and arse possessively and his tongue dips between my lips, exploring. One of his large hands slides between us and he teases at my folds until he feels me growing wet.

His touch is light and playful and as punishment, I release his arse in favour of wrapping my fingers around his hardening cock.

He extracts himself from my mouth and gives me a certain look; a look I have seen countless times before, and a smirk tugs at his lips.

Suddenly, it’s a competition.

I stifle a laugh and mirror his expression. Challenge accepted.

He picks me up and throws me onto the bed and I hook my legs around his hips when he straddles me.

He slides a finger into me about the same time his mouth latches onto my nipple, and my head falls against the mattress as a quiet groan falls from my throat. Our parents are only a few doors down so we have to be careful, but that doesn’t stop me from pumping his dick a few times.

He moans against my tit and nips at it as his hand threads into my hair. He pulls a little and it’s like he knows all of my weak spots. I tighten my legs around his waist and fondle his balls and he makes a guttural sound before sucking on my tit. He pushes a second finger inside me, scissoring me open and I arch into him with a needy whimper.

I manage to pry him off my tit and I kiss him hard and deep and he pushes me into the mattress, attempting to take control of our kiss. I don’t let him and our tongues slide together as we compete to see who can get who to come first.

I gasp when he flips me onto my hands and knees and then drags me into his lap. Our legs dangle over the edge of the bed as his fingers dive for my dripping pussy once more; his other hand gripping my tit and squeezing hard.

At first, I’m confused by the position change, but then I see the mirror we’re now facing and I understand. My back is against his chest so I reach behind me and jerk his straining dick, my eyes glued to the mirror.

We look hot together; both of us flushed and breathing heavily, and I can’t take my eyes off Alex’s fingers pumping in and out of me. I slide my free hand over his; the one that’s squeezing my tit, and I rock onto his fingers, encouraging him to move faster, deeper, rougher.

He watches me through the mirror, gaze dark with lust, and he pushes a third finger into me, pausing only to rub my clit at random intervals. My breaths shake and I tease my thumb over his slit, feeling smug when he stifles his groan against my shoulder.

I come without warning, lips parting in a silent cry of pleasure and he fingers me through it until I’m hypersensitive and pulsing. I manage to pull his fingers away and turn in his lap, but my thighs shake with the effort and I stifle my whimper with my arm as I take his dick inside my throbbing walls.

His eyes widen in shock as I begin riding him mercilessly and his strong hands wrap around my thighs. I push through the oversensitivity and curl my fingers into his hair as I claim his mouth. He has beaten me in our competition, but I am a sore loser.

He picks me up within a few seconds and I’m really starting to enjoy how easily he can manhandle me, then throws me onto the mattress again, cock still buried deep inside me. Before I can fully register what’s happening, he’s thrusting into me hard and fast and he swallows all of my cries and whimpers and moans as he overstimulates my spent pussy.

I tear my mouth off his. “Come in me,” I beg, which surprises both of us. It’s enough to tip Alex over the edge and we both groan as he fills me.

We struggle to catch our breaths and when Alex tries to pull out of me, I tighten my grip around him, wanting to feel him nestled inside me for a few more moments.

He gives me a curious look and I stroke his cheek. “You feel good,” I whisper and he huffs in amusement before settling carefully on top of me.

He studies my face and I close my eyes, letting him as he strokes one of my breasts lightly. I trail my fingers up and down his side and I feel him relax further against me.

As the afterglow fades, so does my smile and I turn my head to look at him and slide my other arm around him protectively.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “For not checking in sooner. I should have stepped in before she hurt you.”

Alex’s smile dims a little. “Not your fault. I hid it from everyone. You stepped in when I needed you.”

I graze my fingers over his cheek. He looks so much better these days. He catches my hand and presses a sweet kiss to my knuckles. His eyes crinkle at the corners and my chest tightens with affection.

“You sure I’m not taking advantage here?” I ask worriedly. “It’s only been a few months…”

Alex shakes his head with a gentle smile. “You’ve done nothing but take care of me these past months. You’re not taking advantage.”

I finally pull off his soft cock and snuggle into his chest. “I used to think you were a dick.”

He wraps his arms around me and rests his chin on my head. “That’s okay. I used to think you were a bitch.”

I laugh and feel him grin into my hair.

“What does this make us?” I ask after a few quiet moments.

He hesitates and I try not to feel too disappointed.

“Boyfriend and girlfriend, I think,” he finally says, as though he’s testing the words out.

I blink in surprise. “Are you… okay with that? Considering our parents are married to one another… doesn’t that make things a little complicated?”

Alex nods slowly and kisses the top of my head. “Maybe. I don’t care. I like you. You make me feel good. I want to make you feel good too.”

I mull that over. “If it’s just sex you want from me, I don’t think-”

“I want more than that,” he cuts in quickly. “A lot more. The sex is great but I love you far more than that.”

There is a long stretch of silence as we both freeze at Alex’s slip. Was it a slip, or did he mean it?

He blows out a breath and my heart hammers in my chest. “Cat’s out of the bag, I guess,” he mutters.

My heart slows and I think about the past few months of living with him. I remember how wrecked I felt at seeing him broken. I remember wanting to protect him; tearing into Courtney to defend him. Since then, my feelings for him have only grown. I wonder how long they had been growing before then?

“I love you, too,” I whisper.

He falls silent and I wait for what feels like hours before he tilts my chin up and kisses my lips gently. I cling to him; wrap my legs around him, and he holds me close and pulls away from my mouth with a warm smile.

He untangles himself from my grip and uses his pyjamas to clean us both up. I bite back a laugh when he pulls a face at the sticky mess he’ll have to wash.

He turns the light off and crawls into bed with me and I tuck the covers around us both as he curls around me. My legs snake around his waist and he rubs my thigh as his free arm winds around me.

We can deal with our parents tomorrow. For now, we belong to each other.

“...I won,” Alex smirks into my hair.

“For now,” I whisper. “There’s always tomorrow.”

There’s a long pause and I wait for Alex to relax fully before I push him onto his back and straddle him.

He makes a quiet sound of alarm as I lean close to his ear. “But why wait?” I growl.

He grins.