“Damn, Kyle owes me fifty bucks,” Porter says.
“You bet that we were together?”Geez, were we that obvious?
“It was just a theory, and no one ever caught you, so eventually, it fizzled out, but I feel very validated right now.” Porter raps his knuckles on the bar and points at me. “There was this football game, I remember.” He scratches his jaw. “It was homecoming my senior year, so it would have been Sebastian’s junior year. And we were playing badly. I mean, like shit.” He points at Wild. “You especially were playing like shit. And at halftime, Coach just laid into us. I mean, really let us have it, and I remember Sebastian got a text or something, and his face just lit the fuck up.” He turns his attention to me. “I guess you hadn’t been there. I don’t know why, but you had just shown up at halftime, and his performance fucking turned around. He caught two fucking touchdown passes, and we ended up winning that game. Now it all makes sense. He was playing like his girl was in the stands, and he wanted to make her proud.”
“Did that really happen like he described it?” Saint asks as we begin our walk back toward our hotel. It isn’t that late, but I wanted some alone time with Halle before the night was over, and I knew I wasn’t going to get that at a bar that was slowly turning into our high school reunion. So we made up something about having to go,a lie they were more than used to hearing,and left the bar before midnight.
“The football story?” I ask her with a smirk. I didn’t need help making Saint melt or swoon over things I did, but I knew her hearing something like that through someone else’s point of view would make her horny and needy for me. “Yeah, I was definitely playing like shit until you showed up.” I wrap an arm around her shoulder and press a kiss to her temple. “Don’t act so surprised. Didn’t you play better when I came to your tennis matches?”
“Please. I was always good,” she sasses while holding a hand up.
I push her away gently. “Admit it, you played better when I was there.”
She doesn’t say anything, and I expect her to reply with another cheeky comment when she stops walking and gives me a curious look. “I think… I can’t remember a match you weren’t at. You were always there.” Her eyes glisten before she blinks them away. “You always showed up for me.”
She grabs my hand and presses her cheek into my upper arm before lifting her chin to present her lips to me for a kiss. “There was never a chance we weren’t going to end up together, was there?” She doesn’t wait for me to respond to that, but she suddenly gasps, and an excited “Oh!” comes out of her. “What did you say to Dylan, I’m guessing at the party… about me?”
Fucking prick,I think when I’m reminded of that interaction. “He said something about you being hot, and he got the attraction. I told him then you were off-limits and to back the fuck off or we’d have a problem, which is why I feel like he was goading me on purpose.”
“What a dick.”
“Can’t wait for him to be family.” I groan, thinking about my mother calling me at the crack of dawn tomorrow to scold me for hitting my future stepbrother.He seemed like the kind of pussy who would run crying to his father about that.
“He did… ask if I wanted to get together if he ever came to New York.”
I whip my head toward her, feeling myself getting worked up over this asshole all over again. “What the fuck? When?”
“When you were taking your call. He suggested getting together if he’s ever in the area. I politely declined, and when he didn’t accept that, I told him that I had a boyfriend. I think he already thought that it was you.”
“Fucker. I think his father probably prefaced him on our relationship, and he just wanted to start shit. Hitting on you is one thing, but not taking no for an answer feels like there was an ulterior motive somewhere, especially based on his comments.”
“Do you think we’ll always have to deal with things like this?” she asks with a sigh, and I’m glad that we are getting closer to the hotel. The dress she’s wearing has been taunting me all night, and I haven’t had a chance to be alone with her to adequately express my need to get it off her.
“I don’t know, Saint. But I don’t want to talk about it tonight. I just want to go back to our room, peel that dress off you, and continue what we started in the closet.”
We make it back to the room, and the door is barely closed before I have her pressed against the wall. “You are so fucking beautiful. I hate it when other men think that they can look at you. Touch you.” I’m still feeling the whiskey and wine and shots from earlier, which is making me more possessive, and now that we were alone back in our room, I was ready to unleash all of that on her. “Can I have this tonight?” I ask, grabbing her ass and squeezing it hard.
“Maybe. Did you bring anything?” she asks, and my cock throbs painfully at her qualifier because Ialwayscarried it when I knew I was going to be with her. I loved being in her tight little ass, but more than I expected, she suggested it. She loves feeling like I’ve claimed every part of her on nights she’s feeling particularly needy. She slowly pulls off her earrings and the rest of her jewelry, setting them on the nightstand while her eyes slowly drag up and down my frame. “I want to shower first.” She leans against the wall, giving me the most deliciously sexy smirk. “You know…” she says as she makes her way toward me. “It’s been a while since… you’ve let me fuckyouthere.” She backs up slowly toward the bathroom, and I follow her because for the rest of the night, my dick is in control of every move I make.
“I’m going to guess that you didn’t bringthat,” I say, referring to the bright pink strap-on that we’ve experimented with a fewtimes. It wasn’t something we did often, especially after the time Halle threw her back out after thrusting a little too aggressively.
For the record, she pushed through the pain until I came.
Which I did.
All over her bed.
“I didn’t, but… I could bring it next weekend when I come to see you?” She taps the zipper of her dress behind her, indicating she wants me to help her. I slowly move the zipper down as I plant wet kisses along her neck and shoulder.
When her dress pools at her feet, I slide my hand down her bare torso toward her pussy. “You know I’ll always do whatever you want. That’s how you got me the first time,” I murmur in her ear. It was the standard argument you’d expect. We were in college, and we’d started talking about exploring anal sex for the first time. She told me it was only fair that I let her do it to me as well. And because I’d do anything in the world Halle St. John asked me, I agreed, so then one night after a lot of whiskey and with even more lube, I let my stepsister fuck my ass with a strap-on.
I came a lot that night.
So did she.
I’ll never forget that look on her face while she was on top of me, rutting into me while she chased her orgasm, doing her best to help me climax as well with those soft hands wrapped firmly around my dick, jacking me off in time with her thrusts.
Something was so sexy about her being on top while she was inside me, her sexy tits bouncing with every thrust and making me harder as I anticipated sucking them into my mouth.
