It was true. Sarah had made my life an absolute nightmare, and sometimes, I thought about taking the radical way out. But I could have never done that to Jacob. It would have destroyed him.
He smiled and embraced me again, pressing me tight to his hard, broad chest. I closed my eyes, drinking in his scent. There was something about his touch, his smell that made me feel so safe, so at home—complete, even. No other man had ever made me feel that way. I was starting to wonder if one ever would.
Eventually we parted, and Jacob ran a hand through his hair, laughing softly. “Well, I’m glad we’ve got that out. Wouldn’t want this to become too mushy, right?”
“Right,” I said, smiling broadly. “Hey, you know what would be cool?”
He raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”
“A movie night,” I said. “You know, like the ones we used to have back at the old house. When Sarah and Dad were gone, I used to sneak into your room, and we’d cuddle up under a blanket and watch shitty B-movies on that huge TV you had, remember?”
“Of course I do,” Jacob said. “How could I forget?”
I grinned. “And this time, we won’t have to sneak beers. We can drink as much as we please.”
He laughed at that. “Thankfully, I have better taste than our parents did. I have wine.”
That was fine by me. I preferred a glass of red, anyway. “Great. Let me get my stuff put away, and then we’ll put on a movie. Sound good?”
“Sounds great, an escape from pretending to be a grown up,” Jacob said with a smile. “I’m happy you’re here, sis. I really am.”
“Me too,” I replied. “And thank you, Jacob. Again.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, then left me to sort out my belongings.
I was overjoyed at the prospect of living with my brother, and even happier that he seemed just as pleased as I was. I couldn’t wait to get close to him again. I was so relieved that so far, it seemed like we were picking back up right where we’d left off.
As I stowed my luggage, I remembered that Jacob and I had always had movie night in our pajamas. In the spirit of reliving old times, I opened up my suitcase and pulled out my short, kimono-style robe. It was black and partially sheer along the hem and the sleeves, but there was lining over the torso, so it wasn’t like it was inappropriate, or anything. It was also my favorite loungewear, and while it might have been a little risqué, Jacob and I were both adults. I had nothing he hadn’t seen before.
The thought of my brother seeing something intimate of mine did bring redness to my cheeks, though. We were close, obviously, but he’d only ever really known me as a child, a teenager, his baby sister. What would he think if he had to see me as a woman?
I debated over my clothing choice for a while. I probably could’ve thrown on an old t-shirt and some sweats, but the kimono robe was what I really wanted to wear.
Fuck it. If this was going to be my house, too, then I needed to act like it. I stripped down to my panties and put on the robe, sighing as the soft fabric brushed my skin. I cinched the waistband tightly, noting how the robe exposed my legs, yet left most of my chest covered. It was still modest, in a way. At least, that was what I told myself.
I took a moment to steal into the bathroom attached to my room and examined my appearance in the mirror. I had definitely grown up since Jacob last saw me, and filled out, too. My hair was longer, and a beautiful shade of red that had darkened with age. My eyes were brighter and bluer than he probably remembered, and my eyeliner only made them appear all the more obvious. I was a full C-cup now, with a tiny waist and womanly hips and legs that went on forever. Despite all the issues I’d had growing up, self-esteem wasn’t one of them. I knew I was beautiful.
But would Jacob think that? And why did I care? He was my brother—well, my stepbrother, but it was all the same.
Wasn’t it?
I frowned at my reflection and brought my robe a little tighter around my body before heading out into the living room. Jacob was already sitting on the couch, scrolling through Netflix on an enormous home theatre system in search of the worst movie he could find. He wasn’t in his pajamas, which made me feel a little uneasy about what I’d chosen to wear. I decided to break the ice about it before he could say something.
“I guess you forgot about the pajama aspect, huh?” I said, grinning nervously as I sat down beside him.
Jacob stared at him, clearly trying to not let his gaze drop as I got comfortable on the cushion. For some reason, I liked that he had to restrain himself. “I… guess I did, yeah,” he said with a laugh that seemed a little too shrill. “Those aren’t exactly the pajamas I remember you wearing as a kid, though.”
“I’d hope not!” I said, glancing at the bottle of wine and two glasses he’d set out for us on the coffee table. He’d already filled them both, and as I picked up mine, I inhaled the bouquet of sweet and savory ingredients. “You have way better taste than our parents.”
“Somebody had to,” Jacob said, though even as I tipped back my glass, I could feel his eyes on me, sweeping over my every curve and settling on the parts of me that were inappropriate for a brother to be staring at. My nipples hardened as I felt his hot gaze on my breasts, and a shiver ran down my spine. I knew it was wrong, but it was so thrilling to have his attention like this.
I turned to him and he abruptly dropped his gaze, picking the remote up to finally settle on some lame horror flick. I grabbed the throw off the back of the sofa and spread it across us, smiling as I curled up against his arm and sipped at my wine.
Jacob began drinking too, and though things were quiet and a little awkward at first, he finally began making the kind of quips that always made me laugh. He was even wittier now than he’d been back at our parents’ house, and I felt like I couldn’t keep up with his riffing. He made me giggle until I nearly flushed wine through my nose. I was in stitches, and by the time things quieted between us again, my robe had fallen off my shoulders, revealing most of my chest.
Jacob smiled at me. “Why don’t you sit here and I’ll rub your shoulders for you?”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “In your lap?”
“Well… sorta,” he said, scooting back on the couch. “Here, between my legs. You’ve been stressed, I’ll bet, and what with moving today, I’m sure you could use a good massage.”
He was right. I could definitely have used some TLC. Illuminated only by the flickering glow of the wall sized screen, I crawled over to my stepbrother, tipsy enough to come off as clumsy, and sat down between his legs, leaning my back against his chest. I felt his hands lower to my shoulders, pushing the remainder of my robe away from them as he began to knead the tight cords of muscle extending from my neck.
“Oh, God,” I murmured, letting
my eyes flutter closed. “Jacob… that feels so good…”
“I’m glad,” he said, his mouth near to my ear. “I put myself through a massage therapy school…”
“The billionaire massage therapist?” I said, laughing.
“Having all the money in the world doesn’t mean a thing if you don’t spend it to improve yourself. Besides, a man needs to be good with his hands…” I smiled at the warmth of his breath and cooed as he continued. “Just relax, Amber. I’ll take care of you now.”
I did as I was told, practically melting into a puddle as Jacob worked my tired muscles. I had never realized how much tension I carried in my shoulders, and every move of his fingers reminded me just how much I had endured at the hands of our parents. But I was beyond that now, safe here with Jacob in his amazing penthouse, lying in my stepbrother’s arms while we binged on bad movies and made up for lost time.