I pull her into the stacks and back her up against the hardwood shelves, taking her hands and placing them above her head. The move makes her perky breasts lift up even more. I trace kisses down her neck to the neckline of her dress. Ridley presses into me, urging me on. As my mouth closes over one breast through the material of her dress, my hands slide down her arms, down her sides, and come to rest on her hips. My mouth closes over the other breast. Ridley pushes her hips into me.
Her breathing hitches while my hands skim down her legs to the hem of her dress, hiking it up so I can get two hands full of her tight little ass.
When I squeeze, she squeaks out, “Crosby!”
“Yes, baby,” I reply, squeezing again and crushing her pelvis against mine.
“Kiss me again,” she whispers.
When I do, my hand travels around to rub her center over the material of her lace panties.
She moans into my mouth again and I let out a growl.
I’m just about to slip the material to one side and feel her folds, explore her and see how wet she is, to ask her if she wants me to take her right here in the library, when we’re interrupted by the sounds of our parents.
“Kids!” shouts my dad. “Time for dinner!”
We part for the second time today due to interruptions, and I’m not thrilled about it.
Over dinner, I take my focus off her lips, her questioning eyes, her delicious mouth and her adorable little tits by marveling at the display on the table. The number of candles and poinsettias make me wonder how much more fancy Bianca’s party will be tomorrow night.
While our parents chatter, Ridley glances at me across the table with an unreadable expression. She looks like she might be having second thoughts about me and won’t make eye contact. Or maybe she’s embarrassed because we’re about to be step-siblings. Though, to be honest, nobody at this table knows when that might be. Or, if they do, they aren’t saying.
I try hard to make meaningful eye contact with Ridley, but it’s no use. She’s mortified. And maybe she’s right to be. Maybe this isn’t going to happen between us.
Completely and totally distracted by my blue balls, I make some work-related excuse to get out of dessert and head to my room. It isn’t a lie. I do have work to do, so I set up my laptop and my devices and distract myself by answering emails and texts. I get a couple of hours of work done before heading to bed.
Lying under the duvet, I’m trembling like I have the flu. But it’s not the flu; I’m just a lovesick puppy. Is it lovesickness? Or lust-sick? Is that a thing? Damn, my body craves her so bad my brain is addled.
Hours ago, this huge, nearly empty house was cold and strange to me. Not even the Christmas decorations could convince me that there was anything homey about the place. But now, after spending the day with Ridley, this place feels different.
Is it the house that feels like home? Or do I feel like I’ve come home because she’s done something to me? She’s gotten under my skin, but it’s more than that. Maybe she’s worked some kind of Christmas magic on me without even trying.
I get up and flip through the stack of books that decorate the carved wood mantle of the fireplace in my room. Yet again, I come across a classic tome that looks like it’s been left out in the sun or damaged somehow. What the hell is going on with the books in this house? What am I missing?
Fuck, I don’t care.
I simultaneously feel like I should try to focus on work and go to Ridley’s room and punish her for making me feel so restless. Punish her with my mouth all over that sweet, responsive body of hers.
Cursing and flinging all the books into a pile on the floor, I settle down on the bed and fire up my laptop to check my email again. Pretty soon, my browsing fingers wander over to a special encrypted folder on my desktop. The folder full of filthy pornography that only I have the password for. Maybe a physical release would steady me.
But as my cursor flicks over it, I can’t bring myself to click on it. I don’t want to. The only image I want in my head, the only naked body I want to picture while I have my hand wrapped around my cock is the girl that’s going to be my stepsister any day now.
6
Ridley
This is wrong. I shouldn’t be having feelings for my future stepbrother. I could hardly touch my dinner because I didn’t want the taste of anything else on my lips but Crosby’s mouth.
I looked at him across the table while he was fiddling on his little gaming device. The big nerd. And he didn’t even bother changing into a dress shirt for dinner. Was he raised in a barn? Well, yeah, technically he was, since his dad’s yoga studio is, in fact, located in a refurbished barn.
He glanced up at me and I looked away, trying to distract myself by posing questions to my mom and Neil about when they think they might set a date for the wedding.
As I lie here in my room, I finally decide this torture is ridiculous. I’m Ridley Fucking Rushmore. Since when have I not gone after exactly what I want?
Slipping out of my bed, I toss on my dressing gown and slippers. I escape the family wing silently and sneak my way into the guest area of the house.
At night, the wintry decorations take on another feel. They are actually beautiful. The windows along the long hallways let in moonlight, which glints off the metallic ornaments all around me. I love it. Maybe my mother is not a totally soulless monster. This is my home after all. I grew up here, never deprived of anything. Sassy is here. And now, Crosby is here too. I’m coming around to the idea that maybe Vail isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Being at home feels…nice.