“I fucking hate you,” I said, getting to my feet.
“Oh, c’mon, Jess!” he said, though despite his supposed displeasure he seemed to take enjoyment from pushing me so far. “It’s just a little dare. What could go wrong?”
“You need to go fuck yourself,” I spat, turning away from him and pushing my way out of the room. I needed to leave and I wasn’t going to let anyone stand in my way.
“Jess!” I heard from behind me as I made it to the front door. It took all my resolve not to turn and look into my stepbrother’s eyes. Thankfully my anger was more than enough to keep my legs moving as I pushed through the crowd of still gyrating bodies and made for the door. Bursting into the open I was hit with the cool air. I was glad for the low heat as I set off for home at a jog, even as my tears stung on my cheek.
How could he have done something like that to me?
I knew that Richard had always loved to torture me, and for a time I thought that maybe it was his way of showing me some odd form of brotherly affection. But this had reached a level that bordered on pure sadism that I never imagined possible from even him. He’d come to my own party, with my friends for my graduation, and proceeded to transform it into what had practically become an orgy.
I choked back a sob as I felt the weight of my party’s failure crashing over me. Everything had been perfect until my stepbrother had shown up, everyone was talking and having a good time. It was just the way I’d planned it, down to the very last detail. But the one thing I hadn’t planned for—the one person who I never imagined would show up—came in and completely turned my whole get-together upside down.
“Jessica! Come on! It was just a game!” I heard him calling from almost a block away. But the sound of his excuses and half-assed apology only served to make me angrier.
Bastard, I thought as I rounded a corner and headed toward me parents’ home.
Everything had gone from polite conversation to people fucking in the closets in the blink of an eye, all thanks to my own personal Dick. I hated him with every fiber of my being. If I had a say in it, he’d stay at Yale and never come back, living out the rest of his life across the country where I could never again be bothered by the thought of his perfect, delicious existence.
I didn’t stop until I was more than a few blocks away from Becky’s house, my own only a few streets away. I crumpled into a heap beneath an oak tree, my arms wrapped around myself as I mourned the one party I’d ever throw in my entire life, the only time I’d dare to even think of having a semblance of a social life. It had crumbled to pieces before my eyes.
“I never want to see him again,” I whispered to the cold stillness of the night around me, my eyes closed as I pleaded with whoever was up above to grant me this one request—to take my stepbrother out of my life forever so that I’d never have to grieve over what I could never have. “I just want him to go away.”
Chapter 4
Dick
“Jess!” I called out into the warm summer air. “C’mon! It’s just a game!”
The night was only just now beginning to cool down after the merciless assault from the sun. I breathed in the cool air as I scanned the street for any signs of Jessica, hoping that I’d be able to catch her before she got too far.
“Jessica! Come back to the party!” I called out again, though the only sound that came in answer was a celebratory shout from inside. I glanced back, looking in through the living room window as I watched one of Jessica’s nerdy friends get what might have passed for a lap dance from one of the girls. I shook my head before turning my attention back to the search for my stepsister.
She couldn’t have gotten too far, I thought as I made my way through the car-packed street, on the lookout for Jessica’s lithe silhouette. I knew I’d upset her, and that really was the whole point, but watching her run out of the house like that brought about a twinge of guilt in my stomach—something I rarely felt. Life was too short to waste time feeling guilty over things—better to get over it and move on than dwell on the things that we regret. But even so, I at least owed Jessica an apology.
“Jessica!” I called again, my hands cupped on either side of my mouth. “Come back!”
But the only sounds that greeted me were the soft chirp of the crickets in the summer air. She was gone, and though I knew she would only have gotten a few blocks by now—especially since our house was only so far away from Becky’s—it still made me uncomfortable to know she’d completely taken off.
She didn’t have to take it so seriously, I thought, shoving my hands into my pockets. It was just a game, after all.
But was that totally true?
I looked back toward Becky’s house, the sounds of the growing revelry rolling out from the open door as a few of Jessica’s friend’s spilled out onto the front lawn. The way Jessica had looked at me in there was like nothing I’d seen before, not from her. Her eyes never left me after I’d asked her that question.
Out of everyone in this room, who do you want to fuck the most?
I saw something in those eyes, something beyond her frightened deer-in-the-headlights stare. It was almost immediate, the way my body responded to that look, the way she stared into my eyes as if to answer the question in her stunned silence. I knew the look behind those eyes, the feeling she was too scared to express deep down, the one that I knew she wanted to tell me despite all of the fear.
My stepsister wanted to fuck me.
I gave some thought to running after her, to confronting her about the way she’d reacted, the things that it implied. But the idea of putting her through that was just too much. There was a difference between teasing her and torturing her in public and going after her on her own, making my little jabs personal. I might not have been the nicest brother in the world—heck, I’d heard Jessica and Becky refer to me as the “stepbrother from hell.” But there was one thing that I never was, and that was cruel.
Could I really blame her for being attracted to me? I mean, I was a certified stud and everyone at school knew I was no stranger to the female body. Not to mention Jessica and I hardly even knew one another before our parents met, and starting high school sharing a house with a hot boy that your mom tells you to call your brother couldn’t have been easy. I almost felt a little sorry for the way Jessica must have felt—especially since I’d been harboring something of a crush on her when we’d first met. Thinking back on it now, I wondered whether that little crush of mine had ever actually faded, or simply changed into the strange teasing that Jessica had come to despise me for.
It hadn’t been easy for me. All senior year I’d begun to catch myself watching Jessica in ways I’d only reserved for girls on the cheerleading squad, especially the way her ass looked in those tight little pencil skirts.
I had cursed more than once the fact that the two of us were brother and sister—at least by marriage. The stigma of doing the things that I’d imagined doing to Jessica had weighed heavily on me whenever my thoughts had wandered to those dark, lustful corners of my mind. I could only imagine what it had been like for my repressed stepsister. And now, with the two of us going to opposite ends of the country for school, it looked like we’d finally be safe from our own desires… But was that what I really wanted?
I heaved a sigh as I once more glanced back at the party I’d breathed life into. Jessica had probably had enough of me tonight, and if what I thought was true, then she needed time to herself to… unwind. And what kind of person would I be to leave a party I’d brought back from the brink of boredom?
The game of Truth or Dare had continued without me, with more than a few boys and girls engaged in some hardly sensible displays of gratuitous affection. I leaned against the doorframe to the master bedroom, observing the sexual tension in the room sizzle and boil over. Things were certainly getting good.
The door to the walk-in closet opened and Becky’s disheveled form stumbled out, a bleary—if satisfied—look in her eye, followed closely by the dark-haired man I’d s
ent in after her, a cocky smirk smeared across his face like so much of Becky’s lipstick.
Now I remembered where I’d seen him before.
Jessica always kept her boyfriends away from me, hiding them away from the whole family, but that smirk was unmistakable. This was the asshole… I’d only seen him from a distance when he’d dropped Jess off, and I knew the two of them had something of a rocky relationship—to put it lightly. Every few months, Jessica would come home from a date she’d had with this guy upset and angry, though I’d never honestly asked her why. Figured it was just teenaged bullshit.
“Looks like someone had some fun,” I said, provoking a blush and an almost shameful look from Becky as she rushed out of the bedroom. I chuckled as I watched her lock herself away in the bathroom to clean herself up. She seemed to be having a good time.
At least one of us is, I thought, turning my gaze back to the room.
Michael was getting congratulated and patted on the back by all of his friends, all of whom stared up at him with puppy-dog-like admiration. The dynamic between them all made me frown as I watched Michael soak up all their praise. Something about him didn’t sit too well with me.
Michael was very well-dressed, surprisingly put-together for someone who was only just moments ago getting some very intimate treatment from a pretty girl. The fact that he wasn’t as disheveled as Becky had me put off. Men who were that concerned about their looks always had me on edge, like they were hiding something behind that perfectly coiffed hair and smart outfit.
The more I watched Michael and his little nerd posse, the less I actually liked him. Every single one of them fit a certain mold, but Michael didn’t belong here. He was almost as fit as I was, and it was clear he came from money. It left a bad taste in my mouth, watching him lord over his followers.
“Spill it, Mike!” one of them said, their nasally voice resonating in the most grating way possible. “Did she put out?”
“Did she ever,” Michael laughed, running his fingers through his hair. “I had that bitch sucking my cock like the slut she is.”
I frowned, my fists clenched as I continued listening to Michael go on about how he had Becky begging.
“She whined like a bitch in heat,” he said, that cocky grin still plastered on his face.