In the early hours of the morning, I snuck back into Pippa’s bedroom. I just needed another taste of her. It was hot as hell, slipping into her bed while she was still asleep and spooning with her. When she woke up and realized I was there, Pippa was just as ravenous for me as I was for her. She moaned and wriggled her sweet little body against me while I caressed her breasts and dipped my fingers between her legs.
She had to clutch her pillow over her face to muffle her moans when she came. Then I held my hand over her mouth when I snugglefucked the shit out of her, thrusting in from behind until her headboard banged against the wall. Pippa froze, scared that somebody heard us, while I kept fucking her through it. The mixture of fear and arousal made her come so hard on my cock, it felt like a fucking vice.
Maybe the hottest part was this morning during breakfast with our parents there. I watched prim little princess Pippa eat her eggs and toast so politely, chatting politely with Dad and Emily like she didn’t have my cum still staining her panties. I love that under all her fancy outfits and professional aspirations, she’s a secret dirty girl.
If I had my way, we’d head back to bed the second we got home. The black leggings she’s wearing are sexy as hell, and Iknow how much fun I’d have slowly rolling them down her legs. If it weren’t for Pippa’s stupid job and stupid editor.
“I don’t know why you’re going into the office the day after Christmas,” I grumble. “I bet you’ll be the only person there.”
She sighs. “I know, but I have to go. Ingrid said she needed me.”
“To do what? File her papers and paint her toenails?”
“Maybe. I’ve been doing my own nails for years, and I’m pretty good at it.”
“What about me? I have a few things I need you for today.” I reach over, running my fingers lightly up the back of her neck. Pippa’s breath catches just before she leans into the touch. Fuck, she can be sweet when she wants to be.
“Didn’t you get enough last night?” There’s no bite in the words.
“Not even fucking close.”
Pippa takes a long deep breath. “So we’re not going to stop, then.”
“I don’t want to.” No, I want to spend every hour between now and New Year’s with my face between her thighs. I want to fuck her while she wears every sexy-ass pair of heels in her closet. I want to make her angry so I can hold her down and force her to come while she’s fighting and cursing and furious.
Damn, it might take me weeks to exhaust my ideas for us.
“I don’t want to stop, either,” she says. “Work has been so crazy, and losing my apartment sucked. It’s like we’re doing some kind of stress relief experiment. Anxiety reduction through orgasms.”
All my eagerness drains away, and an icy heaviness fills my chest. Pippa might be joking, but talking about me like I’m just a human vibrator doesn’t sit right with me. I mean, it’s not like I’m dreaming about taking her out to dinner and hot air balloon rides and girlfriend stuff. I know that’s not what this is.
But being reduced to an orgasm supplier makes me feel like I’m nothing. Like it could be anyone making her eyes roll back in her head.
No. That wasme.
I swallow down the feeling of resentment. It’s not worth saying anything—it’s not like Pippa would even care. I’m not about to ruin some of the best sex of my life by getting all into my feelings, so I’ll play along.
“Right,” I say, shrugging. “It’s just sex, and it just so happens we have great sexual chemistry.”
“Exactly. It would be a shame to waste it. It doesn’t have to mean anything else. I mean, it couldn’t, right?”
“Right. It would be…”
“Inappropriate?” Pippa suggests.
“Right.”
We’re both quiet for a moment. I know the truth—even if I weren’t her stepbrother, even if I was an option for her, Pippa would never choose me. I’m not the kind of guy girls see forever with.
“So it doesn’t matter if I keep dating?” she asks, glancing over at me from under her eyelashes.
The question feels like a challenge. Is she trying to trick me into being territorial? Is this like the stunt she pulled during the poker game, where she draws me into saying something she can hold against me? Either way, I know there’s only one right answer.
“I don’t care, as long as we set some ground rules,” I say lightly.
She rolls her eyes. “Great.Morerules.”
“I don’t wanna be fucking you if you’re fucking someone else, too. I’m not getting chlamydia just because you have shitty taste in men.”
