First I just wanted to say thanks to everyone who have been leaving me great and funny feedback. I'm glad you like this and I hope you'll keep reading.
Chapter 12 ~ It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas
I can feel a pleasant ache in my bones and a languid sort of stretch in my muscles that I haven’t felt in a while as I swim towards the surface of consciousness, followed by a sort of warm tingling feeling at the base of my neck and that clammy feeling of sweat cooling on my skin. Reaching for the edge of a blanket to pull over my shoulders to hold off the chill of the morning air, I find an arm draped over me instead attached to a large hand softly cupping my breast.
My eyes pop open and I shove my entire body backwards, sending Jordan flailing and flopping like a fish out of water towards the cold floor. Scrambling, I grab the sheet from where we’ve kicked it to the foot of the bed and drag it up over my breasts, staring wild eyed down at Jordan who only gazes back at me with a sleepy, satisfied sort of smile.
“What are you still doing here?” I hiss, glancing at the bedroom door that is thankfully still closed.
“You tired me out,” he yawns, stretching his long limbs over his head before climbing back to his feet and moving towards the bed.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I whisper, kicking at him from under the sheet, aiming for knees, groin, anything to keep him off of the bed.
“Coming back to where it’s warm. I was comfy, I was sleeping,” he adds, kneeling on the edge of the bed and grabbing my arm when I reach out to push him away. “Now move over.”
“No! You have to go back to your room. You can’t be here,” I snap, pushing at the immovable bulk of him but without result. He just stares down at my hand and then up into my eyes, smiling.
“You’re so feisty, I like it,” he grins, leaning down towards me, his soft pink lips brushing mine tenderly. I wince, my lips swollen and sore from both of us biting them, so I give him a taste of his own medicine, biting down on his bottom lip but it has the opposite effect to what I was hoping for. He only laughs and pushes me down into the mattress, his bulk holding me down as he pushes his way between my thighs.
“No, Jordan , no,” I moan, but my body knows that I’m lying. I can already feel anticipatory wetness pooling between my legs as he nudges at me, can already feel the clenching at the small of my back and in the pit of my stomach.
“Open your legs,” he whispers against my lips, pinning my arms over my head so I can scratch and push at him.
“No!” I snarl, turning my face away and l lying like a board beneath him, inert and unmoving.
“You’re going to fight me now?” he chuckles, his teeth nipping playfully at my neck, at my shoulder.
“It’s fucking daylight,” I snarl, staring up at him with what I hope is a warning clear in my gaze.
“That makes a difference?” he asks, his lips closing over my nipple, his tongue swirling slowly around it until I arch my back, moaning beneath him.
“I can smell coffee,” I whimper, my thighs parting for him despite my protests.
“It’s on a timer,” he explains, sliding inside in one fluid motion. “No one will be up yet, it’s early,” he adds, moaning into my ear as I tip my hips up to take him deeper in spite of the surrounding tenderness.
“I thought you were tired,” I whine even as my body moves against his, with his, in a slow, gentle motion. Not like the frenzied, sweaty sex of the night before. Night? Or was it morning? How long has it been I wonder, and what time is it now?
“Not that tired,” he whispers against my mouth, his lips parted over mine, barely touching so that our tongues twine outside of our mouths, reaching, touching and then withdrawing in a sort of dance that matches the gentle thrusts of our bodies. “I don’t think I could be too tired for this,” he adds, his entire weight pressing me down as I wrap my legs around the small of his back, pulling him into me. “Oh god,” he moans, as I bite down on his shoulder, the orgasm coming more quickly as the dawn light progresses through the faded curtains as the sun begins its march across the sky.
“I could get used to this,” I grin at her as I curl my body against hers’, our legs twined, my arms wrapping around her, holding her close.
“You can’t,” she mutters quietly, her body soft and relaxed against mine. “We can’t do this. Do you even realize what we’ve done? This is your brother’s bed Jordan. I’m your brother’s girlfriend,” she sighs but makes no move to pull away from me. None of the hissing and scratching cat stuff that she usually does, not that I mind that.
“You weren’t objecting before,” I remind her, laying a kiss on her ivory shoulder, smiling at the bite marks I’ve left on her neck. Or should I say possession marks? “Besides, after what you said last night, why do you even care?”
“What do you mean, what I said?” she asks, squirming free of my arm and sitting up, tugging the blanket off of me and holding it around her like a shield. As if I haven’t seen everything that’s beneath it. As if I haven’t kissed, licked, fondled every inch of her incredible body. “I don’t remember having any deep and meaningful conversations.”
“I didn’t say they were deep,” I muse, reaching out to tug at the coverlet, pulling her back towards me, “I just said you said…things.”
“Things? What things?” she demands, her eyes narrowing, her hand slapping mine away from the pale white skin of her thigh, which she quickly tries to cover with the edge of the blanket. I stare at her for a long moment, waiting for her to remember, waiting for her to cast her mind back but she just stares back at me from the position she’s taken on her knees above me, willing me to speak first.
“All that stuff you said about…you know, me being the best you’d ever had and how Marc doesn’t do it like I do, how he doesn’t get you, how he doesn’t ring your bell. That stuff,” I remind her sheepishly. It sounds so corny when I say it out loud. In fact it sounds downright egocentric. But I’m not the one that said it, she did, and repeatedly I might add.
She opens her pretty mouth, like she’s going to argue with me, but then she closes it and sets her lips in a thin line, her pouty red lips disappearing as denial sets in.
“If I did…if I said any of those things,” she begins, stepping back off of the bed and dragging the quilt with her like a roman toga, leaving me lying there, naked, staring after her, “it was in the heat of the moment. I didn’t mean it. It’s just…stuff you say, y’know, when you’re…,” she waves her free hand at the bed and then turns, heading for her bag. I watch as she begins to root through it, noticing the cute little pair of red lace panties she pulls out, all the while thinking about what she’d said to me and how she said it.
Certainly she was a little…preoccupied at the time, but she still said them and what’s more, the way she said those things, I believed her. I actually felt sorry for my brother, well, even more sorry for him after she’s said those things.
“So what are you saying?” I ask finally. She pauses, with those red panties pulled up just past her knees and then she just shakes her head, continues to shimmy into them before reaching for a matching red bra. Very festive.
“This was a mistake,” she mumbles, turning and fixing me with a glare. “Things got…out of hand and…and this never happened,” she adds before turning back to her bag and yanking out a black skirt and steps into it.
“Yeah, well, that doesn’t really work for me.” I get up and rummage through my brother’s drawers. The good thing about brothers is you might get a lot of hand me downs but then again, most of our stuff fits all of us. I could go to any of the closets or drawers in the house and find something that fits. Pulling out a pair of blue boxers, because now that she’s almost fully dressed I feel a little…conspicuous sitting around in my birthday suit. She turns around, a red and black sweater in her hand, her other hand curled into a fist at her hip, and stares me down.
“What do you mean it doesn’t work for you? That’s the way it is. Do you want to hurt your brother?” she asks, her voice trembling with emotion as her gaze searches mine hopefully.
“Of course I don’t want Marc to get hurt but, on the other hand, I have feelings too you know,” I add, staring back at her and trying not to just stare at her breasts but they look so bodacious cupped in that red lace, so white, so soft. When I look back up into her dark eyes, they’re open wide and I’m almost sure that they’re beginning to shimmer with tears.
“What? What are you talking about?” she asks, biting down on her bottom lip.
“I love you,” I state simply, watching her blink back at me like an owl.
“You don’t…you can’t….it was just sex for fuck’s sake,” she stammers, shaking her head but still staring back at me wild eyed. “You don’t even know me. You don’t know anything about me. We’ve had sex, twice, that’s it. It doesn’t mean anything.” Shaking my head I let go the sigh I’ve been holding in and take a step towards her, but she takes a step back, shaking her head rapidly.
“I haven’t been able to think about anything but you for months. I think that means something,” I offer but she keeps shaking her head at me, but more like she doesn’t want to hear what I’m saying than anything else.
“It’s just…physical…nothing else,” she snaps, tugging the sweater over her head. “Marc loves me. He knows me. You…you don’t know anything about me.”
“That’s not what you said last night,” I remind her quietly, moving towards her quietly like I’m trying not to scare her off. “You said I get you like no one else. You said no one else has ever made you feel like that,” I add, successfully cupping her cheek in my hand. Looking down into her dark eyes I can see all the fear and confusion I know I should be feeling, but for some reason I feel completely sure of what I’m saying and doing right now. “I know I’ve never felt so…crazy about anyone in my life.” For one long, amazing moment, I’m sure she’s going to let me kiss her but then she looks away and denies me access to her lips.
My entire body shakes when he touches my cheek and for just a moment, for a second, I want to kiss him. I want to put my arms around him and kiss him and let him take me back to bed and do all of those things that he does that make me forget about everything else. But then the moment passes and reality creeps back in and I manage to shake off the craving.
“You’re letting little Jordy do the thinking,” I whisper. “This was a mistake. This should never have happened. We’re going to forget about this, forget this ever happened. I don’t want to hurt him.”
“I don’t hear you saying you love him,” he replies quietly, his fingers tightening on my cheek, forcing me to turn and look up into his sky blue eyes.
“Your brother is amazing and sweet and gentle and polite and I care about him, a lot,” I manage, swallowing the words I can’t say, not to Marc, not to anyone.
“But you don’t love him,” he repeats, and now the puppy dog look is gone from those blue eyes, replaced by scorn and disappointment. The look he gives me makes my chest tight, makes the tears I’ve been holding back spill over. Closing my eyes I turn my face away again. I can’t face that look. “If you really loved him, it would be different,” Jordan continues, his hands falling to my shoulders, his hands digging in as he gives me a gentle shake to make me look up at him, which I do, but only for a moment. “But if you don’t, I can’t let you pretend you do. Not after this.”
“You don’t know anything about our relationship,” I snarl, pushing him away with what’s left of my strength. “You don’t know anything about us. How dare you talk down to me like that!” I hiss, feeling my claws come out, wanting to scratch that smirk off of his face. Thankfully he shrugs and suddenly looks tired and young and sad.
“I know my brother thinks he loves you. I know he’s going to ask you to marry him today and I know that I can’t let him do that. Not now.” His blue eyes search mine for a moment and I’m guessing that all he sees is the deer in the headlights look of utter shock.
“He’s…he’s….” I can’t get the words out. It’s like my tongue doesn’t know how to form the words or my brain won’t send the right signals to make my mouth work properly.
“He’s got the ring and everything,” Jordan continues nonchalantly, shrugging his big shoulders. “He’s going to do it when we’re all opening presents. If you don’t tell him by then…I will."