“Have the two of you given any thought to how you will share custody?” Karen asked.
“No,” Harland barked. He’d made no effort to disguise how he felt about the social worker since she arrived at the house.
“We’ve been busy with the funeral and getting to know Ellie,” I explained. “My grandparents were here for a few days. There’s been a lot going on. But now that things are settling down, Harland and I plan to sit down and figure out how we’re going to manage this situation.”
“Ellie seems to be under the impression that the three of you are going to live here.”
“Where the hell did she get that idea!?” Harland bellowed.
“Stop it,” I hissed, kicking him under the table.
“Mr. Hollingbrook, I understand that you are under a great deal of stress, and you’ve just suffered a terrible loss, but the court needs to ensure you’re fit to have custody of a minor child. Angry outbursts and swearing are not what the judge wants to see.”
“What else did Ellie say?” I asked, praying she didn’t tell the social worker that her brother and sister were bumping uglies.
“My interviews with Ellie are confidential. But I will tell you, out of the three of you, she’s put the most thought into a long-term plan for your family. And she has come up with some pretty incredible solutions.”
“Really?” Harland scoffed. “So, you’re advising us to let a twelve-year-old make the decisions?”
“Of course not,” Karen sighed. “I’m merely suggesting you listen to her ideas. Ellie is extremely intelligent.”
“We will absolutely do that,” I assured her.
“The judge will require a detailed plan of the living arrangements before he makes a ruling on custody. If you decide to return to your homes out-of-state, I will need the names of any other persons living in the homes. Are there any spouses or significant others who will be part of the child’s life?”
“No,” I said.
“Nope,” Harland muttered. “I live alone.”
“Great,” she said, packing up her briefcase. “I will be in touch.”
“Do you want custody of Ellie?” I snapped as soon as the social worker was out the door.
“Then you can’t act like an ass when the social worker is visiting.”
“She annoys me.”
“Oh well, Harland. Get over it.”
“My dad left clear instructions for Ellie’s care. It’s none of the court’s business. We aren’t criminals or sex offenders. They should run a criminal background check and call it a day.”
“Well, that’s not how it works.”
“I’m not going to kiss some social worker’s ass. Who else is going to raise Ellie?”
“They could put her in foster care.”
“They aren’t gonna do that when she has a family willing to take her. This entire exercise is a huge waste of time and the taxpayers money.”
“That may be so, Harland, but it will go smoother and quicker if you play nice with the social worker.”
“I’m gonna go work out,” he muttered, storming off toward the stairs to the lower level.
I dropped to the sofa. Why was all the furniture in this mausoleum so damn uncomfortable? Hollingbrook needed a major makeover.
I scanned the room, my creative juices flowing for the first time since I arrived. Oh, the things I could do with an unlimited budget. I could turn the old dinosaur into a beautiful swan. A project like that would put me on the map in the interior decorator world.
My thoughts turned to Harland working out. I recalled our encounter in the gym that night. His hard pecs under my hands while I straddled his lap, his cock pressing between my legs with only a thin, terry cloth robe stopping him from sliding inside me.
For the first time in my life, I wanted to have sex. I couldn’t wrap my brain around it. It made absolutely no sense. I left an embarrassing trail of failed sexual encounters back in Rochester.
My most recent debacle happened a couple weeks before I left. I met the guy at an Interior Design Convention in Cleveland. He was an architect from Chicago. Don was a bit older. Well, he was fifty, so he was a lot older. Ron, not Don. Anyways, I got this bright idea in my brain that an older dude would have more patience, be more skilled in the bedroom. So, when he offered to buy me a drink, I let him.
We ended up back in my hotel room. Ron or Don, whatever his name was, liked to give oral. I thought I’d hit the jackpot. Most guys I’d been with never offered to do that. They just expected me to be instantly ready with next to no foreplay.
He went down on me like a pro. Well, I really have nothing to compare it to, but he seemed to know what he was doing. Unfortunately, my body wouldn’t cooperate. I have to give the old guy credit. He hung in there like a trooper. When he said he was going to the vending machine to get a bottle of water, I knew he wasn’t coming back. He got completely dressed, and didn’t offer to bring me anything.
There was a man downstairs who knew the combination to my pussy padlock. The universe was playing some kind of twisted joke on me. Harland was my stepbrother. It had ick written all over it.
What is it they say?
The heart wants what the heart wants.
Except it wasn’t my heart making my decisions.
The pussy wants what the pussy wants.
And it wanted my stepbrother’s cock.
I pushed up from the sofa, glancing at my watch. Joanne took Ellie to town with her. Apparently, Ellie enjoyed grocery shopping, and this was something they’d been doing together every Thursday for years. They would be gone for at least another hour.
I ran upstairs to my bedroom, freshening up my bits before slipping into my black satin robe. My heart thumped against my rib cage, my belly doing cartwheels as I glided down the stairs.
You’ve got this, girl. There’s nothing to be afraid of.
I peeked inside the partially open door to the gym. Harland was lying on the weight bench, a loaded bar above his head. I watched his muscles flex, my body responding with a gusher between my legs. My stepbrother was a fine specimen.
I waited until he was done, and the bar was secured safely. He sat up, wiping the sweat from his brow before taking a swig of water. I stepped inside the room, my knees trembling when our eyes met in the mirror.
“What are you doing down here?” he asked, his voice hoarse as his eyes travelled up my bare legs to the hem of my short robe.
“I thought we had a deal. You said you would help me, but you haven’t laid a finger on me since the funeral.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve had a lot on my mind.”
“That sounds like a cop-out, Harland.”
“It’s not. I swear.”
“If you changed your mind, you should’ve told me.”
“I didn’t change my mind.” He turned around so he was facing me, a storm of sadness and uncertainty in his eyes. “I care about you, Kinley. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your grandma told me you’re looking for a husband.”
“That wasn’t part of the deal,” he said with a nervous chuckle. “And she also said some shit about you being obsessed with having a baby because your biological clock is ticking.”
“Why did she tell you that?”
“She wanted me to be aware, so I’d end things with you if I wasn’t looking for anything long-term.”
“What did you tell her?”
“Nothing. Did you want me to tell your grandmother that you have sexual issues that I was going to fuck out of you?”
My pussy clenched. Since when did I like dirty talk?
“What’s wrong with you?”
“I, um.” I stared past him at the woman in the mirror. She wanted this. Needed this. Deserved this. So much was stolen from her that night. “I like it when you talk about fucking me.”
He blinked, a curious grin spreading across his sexy lips. “You want me to talk dirty to you?”
“I want you to talk dirty to me while you’re doing dirty things to me,” I whispered.
I took a deep cleansing breath, my trembling hands reaching for the belt holding my robe closed. He growled, a hungry roar rolling off his chest like a lion about to pounce on his prey. I released the loose knot, the thin layer of satin parting before I slipped it from my shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.
Time stood still, my naked body reflected in the mirrored walls of the gym while my stepbrother stared at my offering. I wasn’t a supermodel or anything, but I was happy with what I had. My breasts weren’t huge, but they were big enough to fill out a C cup. I had a flat stomach and toned thighs. Despite what everyone at my high school believed, I did not have a big red bush. I went for regular waxing appointments, keeping only a thin strip of hair down there.
Harland rose slowly from the bench, stalking toward me with lust billowing from his eyes, his mouth set in a determined line.
“Sit,” he ordered, his voice so deep it sent shivers down my spine.
I stared at the weight machine he was pointing to. My belly flipped, the heat between my legs roaring to a boiling inferno. He wanted me to sit on the one I refer to as the thigh spreader. The leg abductor machine. I swallowed past the lump in my throat, my heart threatening to bust right through my rib cage.
Do it, girl. The man wants to see your pussy. Let go. Flip your brain into sleep mode and let this man show you what sex is supposed to feel like. The only thing standing in the way of an orgasm is you.
I lowered my bare ass to the leather seat, placing my feet on the metal supports with my legs firmly closed. Harland dropped to his knees in front of me, lifting one of my feet to press a light kiss against my ankle bone. I held my breath, battling the flashbacks that hovered just beneath the surface of my subconscious, trying desperately to break free and ruin this. I wouldn’t let them. I was finished letting him ruin every sexual encounter I had.
He kissed his way up my calf, teasing me with feathery kisses while I squirmed around, the leather sticking to my skin. I froze when he began his slow descent up my thigh.
“Relax,” he whispered, glancing up at me briefly. “Don’t think, just feel.”
Don’t think, just feel. Don’t think, just feel.
If only I could close my eyes. But I knew I couldn’t. As soon as I did, it wouldn’t be Harland between my legs. It would be him.
I kept my eyes open, focusing on the top of Harland’s head. He reached down, pushing the pedals outwards as he spread my thighs wide open. I’d never been in such a vulnerable position before, unless you count the gynaecologist’s office or the waxing salon. But I always had females.
There was no hiding in the gym. The bright ceiling lights provided my stepbrother with a full view of all my lady parts. He stared at my pussy like he’d never seen one before.
“You’re beautiful, Kinley,” he whispered. “Absolutely perfect.”
One swipe of his tongue through my folds and all my fears and traumatic memories faded away. My eyelids fluttered closed, my body surrendering to the pleasure. He was so good at oral, his tongue teasing my clit with light flicks while I moaned softly.
He slipped his hands under my ass, burying his face between my legs while he licked and sucked and nibbled. I thrust against him, crying out when he sucked my clit between his teeth. He licked down my slit to my dripping entrance, plunging his tongue inside me.
I felt like I had to pee. The pressure in my pelvis was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. It bordered on painful. I needed relief, but I had no idea how to get it. My natural instincts kicked in, my fingers finding their way into Harland’s hair while a stream of whiny gibberish rolled off my tongue.
He replaced his tongue with two fingers, thrusting deep inside me while he sucked hard on my clit. Shockwaves of pleasure zapped my body, my legs trembling while I hung on to Harland, my fingers digging into his scalp while I rode out the massive wave rolling through my body.
I opened my eyes, momentarily disoriented as the bright pot lights blinded me. Harland rose up from the floor, wiping his face on a towel before he lifted me from the bench. He carried me to the small lounge area, grabbing my robe from the floor before settling on the leather sofa.
“Hey,” he whispered, kissing my forehead. “Put this on.”
I slipped my arms into my robe, tying it securely before settling on his lap. “Thank you,” I whispered, tears spilling from my eyelids.
“That was,” I paused, gazing deep into his eyes. “You have no idea how much this means to me. I had pretty much given up on ever experiencing a normal sexual relationship.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you, sweetheart,” he murmured while he nibbled on my neck. “Nothing at all.”
“I can’t believe I had an orgasm.”
“This is only the beginning, baby. We’re just getting started.”
I ran my fingers over his stomach, slipping them beneath the elastic of his shorts.
“Careful, doll,” he whispered. “He bites.”
“Stop,” I laughed, my fingers grazing the tip of his erect cock.
He took possession of my mouth, engaging me in a long, slow kiss while he snuck his hand inside my robe. When he rubbed his thumb across my bare nipple, I lost it. My nipples were extremely sensitive on a normal day. And I was due to get my period any day, which meant they were worse. I’d never been able to tolerate any kind of nipple play. But I was on such a high, I didn’t care. It actually felt good. I climbed on top of him, grinding against him like an animal in heat. A horny giraffe.
He cupped my breasts, bringing his mouth to one of my nipples. His tongue darted out to greet my hard bud, his lips closing around it. I curled my hands around the back of his head, whimpering with need.
The ache between my legs was almost unbearable. I rocked my hips, his cock throbbing between my legs, the satiny material of his shorts rubbing against my clit.
“Can I come to your room tonight?”
“You better,” I panted.
“Wild horses wouldn’t keep me away.”