Closing my eyes at that thought, I felt this self-disgust fill me. I shouldn’t want anything to do with a guy like Derek. Even if we weren’t technically family, he was out of my league. If we didn’t know each other, he’d never give a girl like me the time of day. I was thick, curvy, and certainly didn’t have a tight body like the cheerleaders that hung around him and his friends.
You want him.
It was true. I wanted him to fuck me, but was too proud, too stubborn to allow myself to stoop to his level of whorishness and just go for it. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself. And every time he came out of the bathroom in nothing but a small as hell towel, his hard body on display, the monster between his thighs pressed against the fabric like a third leg, I hated him even more. Every time he brushed up against me when we passed each other in the hallway or at home, when he stared at me with this intense I want to fuck you look, I hated that my body heated, my pussy got wet, and I thought about really dirty shit.
I kept my attitude, my annoyance at him, in place, but I wondered if he saw through that. My skin still tingled where he’d brushed up against me at the sink today, when he’d said, “You know you’re the only girl for me.” God, if only that were true, I’d be in a lot worse shape than I was in now.
Nope, I’d never resort to giving in and letting my linebacker stepbrother have me.
At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.
2
Derek
Our team won the game, and it was time to party. My dad was one fucking happy man with me winning the game and didn’t have a problem with me blowing off steam after a game. So that was why I stood in Mitch’s house, drinking a beer, and watching the bitches strip down to their bikinis and dive into the pool.
None of the bitches interested me. Their skinny bodies didn’t attract me. There was only one woman I wanted, and she stood in the corner talking with Duke, one of my fucking teammates. He was an asshole, even bigger than me. I hated him. I couldn’t get rid of him though; he was a huge part of the team. Without him, winning would be a problem.
He made sure I got the ball, and if I didn’t get the ball, I didn’t score; if I didn’t score, we didn’t win.
Fuck. Duke just put his hand on her arm, touching Charlotte, and that just pissed me off.
“Hey, man, great play today,” Mitch said, slapping me on the back. I nodded and forced myself to stop looking at Charlotte. She was my ride home, even if she didn’t know it. Mitch whistled and, when I glanced at him, I saw he was looking toward Charlotte. “Your sister is looking fine. I’d love to see what those tits look like in a bikini; she’s fucking hot.”
“She’s not my sister, and don’t fucking say that shit about her.”
When I thought about Charlotte, it didn’t have anything to do with being sisterly. We weren’t related, and if not for her mom marrying my dad, she’d be just another girl. But I wanted to fuck her, badly. I spent every single night thinking of ways to get her into my bed. I’d spread those thighs of hers, open the lips of her virgin pussy, and eat her out. I knew she was a virgin, knew no assholes had experienced that tight little pussy of hers.
Yep, I was a total asshole.
Once I licked her pretty wet pussy, and I would, I’d put my dick inside her, going slowly until I claimed that little bit of innocence that belonged to me. Her virginity was mine, and I was going to fucking take it.
Finishing off my bottle of beer, I tossed it into the nearest trashcan, and made my way over to her.
“So I was thinking I should take you out to the movies,” Duke said.
Oh, hell no. There was no way Duke was taking Charlotte out. I wasn’t going to let her out of my sight.
“Fuck off, Duke; the answer is no,” I say, placing my arm over her shoulder.
“Go away, Derek.” Charlotte wasn’t happy, but I didn’t give a fuck.
“Come on, let’s go home.” I drag her away from Duke, and make sure that I hold her even as she fights me. I wasn’t going to let her go, and I wasn’t going to let Duke fuck what belonged to me. This woman had been driving me crazy, and she was mine.
Mine!
If I had to get my name inked on her body, I was going to claim what was mine.