Chapter Seven
Maggie
I knew it was going to be a mistake the instant I did it. Didn’t stop me, though. Not when the air shifted and tension set in. Not when she was staring at me with so much curiosity, so much temptation. Bridgette is a massive bitch, no doubt about it, but she is absolutely gorgeous and when the bombshell practically begs with her eyes for you to kiss her…well, I’m only human.
Predictably so, she took off and the moment was over. I’m making breakfast like usual, this time for an extra mouth, when Bridgette comes down the stairs. As soon as she sees me, she goes rigid, but I pretend like I don’t notice.
“Morning,” she says stiffly.
“Morning Bridgey,” Brad says. “Did you know our new sister cooks too?”
“Stepsister,” Bridgette and I say simultaneously before looking at each other.
“Yeah, I did. She’s not bad. Can I talk to you?” she asks me.
As much as I’d rather not, I know I don’t get a say. So I nod and gesture for her to lead. She steps out of the kitchen and towards the back porch before I close the door behind us. She turns to face me in a flash, her arms folded over her chest.
“Last night was a stupid mistake that I hope will stay between us.”
I stare at her patiently before lifting a brow. “What do you mean?”
“I mean the…kiss,” she whispers, like it’s her deepest, darkest secret.
Knowing her and her reputation, it probably is.
“What kiss?” I ask, gaslighting the fuck out of her because honestly, this is the furthest from my first rodeo, and just like all the other times, I don’t give a shit.
If someone wants to pretend like something didn’t happen, I’m happy to oblige. Let’s just get on with it, though.
“You know what I’m talking about,” she snaps.
I shrug. “I was really high last night. Everything is a little hazy, but if we kissed, no big deal. Your secret is safe with me.”
“You don’t remember it?” she asks, a hint of disappointment found in her tone.
“Do you want me to?” I ask.
“No, of course not,” Bridgette hisses.
Shrugging again, I nod. “Well, there you go.”
She stares at me like she’s waiting for the but. Like I couldn’t be this agreeable. What, did she think we’d kiss one time, and I’d be desperate for more? There are plenty of fish in the sea and yes, she is a very pretty one, but there are many more just like her. Ones that aren’t my stepsister. Ones that aren’t a high maintenance brat.
“Okay,” she says slowly.
I nod as I slip past her towards the door, just barely cracking it as I turn to speak.
“Oh, just so you know, because I’ve been down this road before, I won’t make the first move again. You’ll have to come to me.”
She gapes at me like it’s the most ridiculous thing she’s ever heard of as she shakes her head.
“You’re insane! Why would I ever…don’t be stupid…Me wanting you? I?—”
I hold my hands up in defense. “Just letting you know.”
With that, I head back for the kitchen to find Brad face first in the omelet I made for him.
“Good?” I ask with a smile.
“So fucking good. I think I’m in love with you.”
I laugh at that. “I’m in love with you, platonically.”
“Shit, that’s right. I need to get you five hundred bucks,” he says like he’s just remembering it.
Snickering, I laugh as I begin making an omelet for myself. Straight guys are so weird with lesbian women. I’ve learned to just roll with it, but my god, I think they are hornier for us than straight women.
* * *
Bridgette ended up making up some excuse to leave the house a few minutes later, and Brad and I decide to do what he called a little sibling bonding. We went to the beach, got some lunch and he tried and failed to convince me to go to a strip club. Again, straight guys are so fucking weird. Who goes to a strip club on a Thursday at two in the afternoon?
Once we got back to the house, we split off; him heading out to meet up with some friends and me checking on how my candles are cured before ordering in. It’s so funny to me that I’m happy to make breakfast every single morning, but the idea of cooking dinner feels like such a chore. I could probably buy a house of my own in six months with the amount of money I spend on takeout. Well, that and the fat inheritance my father left me, but since I refuse to touch it, takeout money might just do the trick.
I end up watching a few movies in bed and am just about to fall asleep when the front door opens. I hear stumbling before the sound of something breaking. Rolling my eyes, I shake my head. Brad came home a few hours ago, which means it can only be one person, and clearly that one person is drunk.
Trying to focus on the main character outrunning a brain hungry zombie, my attempt is wasted when my bedroom door is suddenly thrown open.
“Bridgette, what the fuck?” I snap.
She’s wearing a skintight blue mini dress and a jacket that she drops onto the floor instantly with a giggle.
“Shhh, you’re gonna wake my brother.”
I lift an unimpressed brow.
“No, you’re gonna wake your brother.” I scoff as I turn to face the show.
“What’s all this?” she asks as she drunkenly points at some candles that are curing.
“Candles,” I answer drily.
“You makes them?” Bridgette slurs.
“I makes them.” I snark.
“They are pretty. Like you.”
I can’t help but roll my eyes at that.
“Hey,” she says as she stumbles over before flopping down onto my bed. “Are you mad at me? You are, aren’t you?”
“Why would I be mad at you?” I sigh.
“Because I wanted to forget about our kiss.”
“Sweetheart, you’re not the first woman I’ve kissed that’s questioning her sexuality. In fact, it happens often. It’s not a big deal.”
“It is, though,” she says with a dramatic sigh as she flops all the way down on my bed, staring up at the ceiling.
“Why?”
Her head turns to face me. “Because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it all day.”
I do my best to remain unphased because what am I supposed to do with that information? When I stay quiet, she continues talking as she forces herself to sit up.
“I can’t stop thinking about you. Your soft full lips, the way they felt, the way you tasted,” she says as she begins slowly crawling up my body.
Every instinct in my body is telling me to push her away, but for some dumb reason, I stay completely still. She makes it all the way up to me before her legs straddle my lap and her arms wind around my shoulders.
“I can’t stop thinking about what would have happened if we would have kept going,” she says, lowering her face to mine until our mouths are just inches apart.
I meant what I said. If she wanted more, she’d have to come to me. I’m not interested in playing the game of chasing after the confused straight girl. Her ass wiggles a little in my lap, though, and fuck, it’s hard to remain completely impassive. Bridgette is breathtakingly gorgeous, even when she’s a messy drunk like this.
Slowly, I allow myself to tangle my fingers through her hair. It’s so soft and sleek, like silk in my hands. I do so over and over again and she sinks into my touch, tipping her head back as she lets out a pleasured sigh that has my panties soaking. Goddamnit. This is bad. I can’t get involved with her. My stepsister, seriously? If my mom or her dad found out, it would be our necks. Literally, I’m sure of it. When she is only a hair’s width away from my mouth, though, ask me how my self-control is doing.
“Maggie, I’m coming to you,” she says.
“Yeah,” I rasp, the hand not in her hair coming down to cup her ass. “You wanting to experiment a little, baby B?”
She hesitates for a moment, uncertainty flashing across her face as she ducks her head.
“Hey,” I say as I catch her chin, tipping her face up so she looks at me. “Nothing has to happen. You can walk out this door and head to your room and we’ll pretend like nothing happened, okay?”
She nuzzles into my hand before her eyes come to me. The look is heavy, the air around us thick as she leans forward once more, closing the distance between us. Once again, I’m reminded of how perfect her lips are. So pillowy soft and sweet. She wiggles her ass on me again and I drag her closer to me, deepening the kiss as her hands cup my face.
Her tongue meets mine first and I take full advantage of the access, twirling my tongue around her, sucking her into my mouth. Shit. Wrong or not, making out with my stepsister is hot as fuck.
I feel her hands move from my face before coming to my tits. I’m just wearing a tank top, no bra, a fact that she seems to appreciate as her hands roam over me, squeezing and flicking her thumbs against my nipples.
A moan slips out of me and Bridgette’s eyes come to mine before she looks at me.
“Can I see them?” she asks hesitantly.
My hand rubs soothingly against her ass as I nod.
“Pull my shirt down.”
She pulls the neckline down, freeing my breasts and lust takes over her gaze. Bridgette can say whatever she wants to herself when she’s sober, but a straight woman doesn’t look at another woman’s breasts like that. Her hands cup me, thumbs flicking over my nipples before she swallows and takes me by surprise.
Leaning down, her mouth wraps around my left nipple, her tongue twirling around it as she does.
“Fuck,” I moan.
My tits have always been sensitive. I can literally make myself come from nipple stimulation alone, and that’s when I don’t have a sexy woman grinding in my lap, sucking on my tits.
“More,” I beg.
“Am I doing it right?” she asks as she releases me.
I cup the back of her head with one of my hands as I nod.
“You’re doing so good, baby. Keep going,” I say as I grind against her.
She smiles, a smile that makes my fucking heart seize for a moment before her mouth is back on me. Her tongue takes its time, twirling and teasing me before her teeth nip at me gently. I can’t help but buck when she does that, and I feel myself getting closer and closer.
“Fuck, you’re gonna make me come,” I groan.
“Good,” she mumbles against me, her other hand now tweaking my other nipple.
Pleasure builds in me more and more until it takes me out. I don’t even try to muffle my screams as I come. Bridgette’s mouth continues working me over as my orgasm slams into me.
Before I’ve even fully finished, I’m pushing Bridgette’s dress up to her hips, exposing her satin covered pussy. I hook her panties with one finger, dragging it to the side, and I almost have to stop for a moment.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
“You have such a pretty pussy, baby. Just admiring.” I grin.
A blush tinges her cheeks as I slip a finger through her. Christ, she’s absolutely dripping.
“B you’re soaked. Did sucking on my titties turn you on?” I ask as I begin pumping my finger in and out of her.
“Yes,” she moans as she braces her hands on either side of my head.
“Fuck, you did it so well, you made me soak my panties. Do you like the idea of getting your stepsister off?” I ask.
“That sounds dirty.” She gasps and it turns into a moan, her head thrown back in pleasure.
“That’s because it is. You’re a very dirty girl climbing into my bed, wanting to suck on me, wanting me to touch you.”
Her pussy spasms around my finger and I slip another inside her for good measure.
“Ohhhh, Maggie,” she moans. “Yes.”
“Your tight little pussy is just greedy for me, sweetheart,” I say with a smile.
“Uh huh.” She nods.
“You want to come?” I ask. “Want me to make you come?”
“Yes!”
“Yes, what? You have to beg for me.”
Her blue eyes fly open, landing directly on me, and my chest squeezes at the connection.
“Make me come, Maggie. Please.”
How can I say no when she begs so beautifully for me?
Curling my fingers upward, I begin stroking her faster and faster until she’s coming. Wait, not coming, she’s squirting. Her pussy is absolutely soaking me, herself, my bed, everything. The gratification I receive from it is unlike any other.
“Oh my god! Oh my god! What’s happening to me? Did I just pee on you?” She gasps as she comes down from her high, embarrassment mixing with the post orgasm flush on her cheeks.
I chuckle and smile. “No, baby. You squirted. Have you never done that before?”
She shakes her head breathlessly as she looks down at me.
“Not surprised. Most men don’t want to take the time to figure out how to make a woman feel the highest level of pleasure.”
“Most men don’t make me come, period,” she rasps with a smile.
I nod and smile. So I’ve heard. A lot.
Slowly, I pull my fingers out of her before lifting them to my mouth. Bridgette watches in fascination as I suck on my fingers, moaning around them as I do. Fuck, of course she is delicious, because on top of being extremely forbidden, she has to taste like the forbidden fruit, doesn’t she?
When I release my fingers, Bridgette blinks like she was in a haze and is now coming to. Slowly, she stands up, pulling her dress down before she stumbles out the door. I’m not surprised and I don’t try to stop her. Instead, I stand up, change my clothes and sheets before settling back into bed. When I close my eyes, I try to push the encounter out of my head, but her taste is still on my tongue, and fuck me, I know one taste will never be enough.