Chapter Eleven
Bridgette
The cold is setting in, despite the warm summer sun kissing my skin. It can’t chase away the chill in my bones. For a moment, winter was gone, and the promise of a new day was here. As fast as it left, though, it’s back again, promising a colder, sharper, bitter end.
My pen drags along the page with ease, each word becoming permanently inked on the page, lifting the anxiety on my chest brick by brick, no matter how temporary the relief may be. I know I should be downstairs, ready and waiting like the perfect daughter at the table. I can’t bring myself up to get off my bed, though. This summer…well, it’s still technically in full swing, but this time, everything has changed now. Despite the freedom and relief I was beginning to become accustomed to, I feel more trapped than ever. More hopeless than ever, because for once, it feels like I’m on the verge of something…more, and I don’t know how the fuck to process any of that. So, I write.
A soft knock comes from my door before it’s cracked open. My eyes move up from the page to see thick, shiny red hair peeking its way inside.
“Hey,” Maggie says softly. “Are you ready for dinner? Everyone is waiting on you.”
I nod, inhaling deeply before holding the breath. I might just hold it for the rest of the night.
“Are you okay?” Maggie asks.
I open my mouth to respond when I decide I don’t need to. For some reason, instead of being irritated by my silence, she almost seems understanding. Her chin juts out, gesturing to the book in my hands as she speaks.
“I didn’t know you journaled.”
“I don’t,” I answer quickly. “Not often,” I amend, closing the book and shutting it in my bedside table’s drawer.
She nods like that’s all the explanation that she needs. I really like that about her. She doesn’t pry, she doesn’t demand information. She waits for you to give it to her like a gift, patiently, gently, and if you’re not ready, she drops it. She gets it.
Standing to my feet, I move to slip past her out the door when her hand catches mine, stopping me in my tracks.
“Are you sure you’re okay? Ever since our parents came home, you’ve been…quiet.”
I shake my head, forcing a smile in place.
“I’m fine. I just don’t think this should happen, at least not while they are in the house with us,” I say as I attempt to wiggle my fingers free.
Maggie nods in understanding before leaning her face to mine. She doesn’t kiss me, instead she ghosts her mouth over mine, running it up and down the length of my neck before whispering into my ear.
“If that’s what you want. I’ve never been too afraid to flirt with a little danger, though.”
I can’t help it. When her lips just barely graze against my earlobe, my panties soak instantly. God, how does she have this control over me? This power? It’s out of my fucking hands and she knows it. She knows the power she holds over me, what she does to me, and she fucking revels in it.
“I’ll see you downstairs,” Maggie says, pulling her mouth away from me as her eyes devour me whole once more before she steps out the door.
Like a moth to a flame, I follow her blindly, taking each step with care, my eyes solely fixed on her until we come into the dining room. There, my father is waiting at the head of the table, Calista at the other end, while my brother takes his seat beside my father. I take a seat next to Brad, and surprisingly, Maggie sits beside me instead of the empty side of the table. Not that she has to sit on the other side, but it feels a little odd to have one side full and the other empty. It doesn’t seem to bother her any as she settles herself in her seat, scooting her chair in until she’s flush against the table.
“Thank you for joining us, Bridgette,” my father draws out darkly.
I dip my head and nod, keeping my eyes focused on the empty place setting before me.
“My apologies, Father. I lost track of time.”
“Hmm.” He sounds before gesturing for the butler to come in.
Now that he’s home, it looks like he brought back all the staff he dismissed after the wedding. I suppose he can’t go even a day without being waited on hand and foot.
Each of us is presented with a plate of salmon, asparagus and roasted potatoes. Though, the potatoes are noticeably absent on all the women’s plates. No surprise there. Harry Brenton wouldn’t dare be caught with a fat wife or daughter, even stepdaughter. Just like all the members of the Brethren, image is everything.
I can see the moment Maggie notices, a look of disappointment in her eyes as she stares at Brad’s plate with want. Reaching under the table as discreetly as I can, I pinch her thigh in warning. She doesn’t know my father, hardly at all really. She doesn’t know the kind of temper he has, the little things that set him off.
Her eyes come to mine, understanding dawning in them before it’s replaced with something wicked. Pushing her hand to my thigh, she begins slowly sneaking it up my leg before slipping under my skirt.
“So, Margret, how are you enjoying the house?” my dad asks as her fingers tease my panty line.
I do my best to remain composed as I pick up my fork and begin slowly picking at my salmon.
“It’s absolutely lovely. Thank you for being so welcoming to me.” She smiles as her fingers slide under my panties, teasing my wet slit.
Fuck, that feels good.
“Of course, we are family. I want you to feel as well taken care of as one of my own children, and I hope they will extend the same courtesy. Right?” he asks.
“Right.” I cough, clearing my throat and trying to shake the lust from my head.
He narrows his eyes in suspicion for just a moment before turning to Brad, who agrees over a mouth full of potatoes.
“Oh, I love her. We’re already the best of friends.”
Maggie smiles at him as she shifts forward, conveniently using the movement to slip a finger inside me. A small gasp escapes my lips as I shove a piece of food in my mouth, exaggeratedly moaning as I nod.
“This is delicious.”
My father nods as he turns to Calista and begins yammering on about some dinner party they need to go to soon; meanwhile, my stepsister is finger fucking me beneath the table. Her thumb reaches my clit, swirling over it lazily in a way that has my legs shaking. Brad casts me a curious glance before his eyes move down, widening in shock.
“Is everything alright?” Calista asks, looking at Brad.
His head whips up, and his look of shock is gone in a flash.
“Of course. I spaced off for a moment. We haven’t heard much about your honeymoon. I’d love to hear more,” he says.
Calista practically preens under the attention as she begins to go on and on about the fantastic bungalow they stayed in and the fine dining. She even brought up making love in the sand which had all of us kids more than a little uncomfortable. Through it all, Maggie has refused to take her fingers out of me, and now, I’m going to come.
I reach down, attempting to pull her away from me, but she refuses, pumping her fingers into me over and over again before curling upward, massaging my g-spot until I see stars. Biting my lower lip, I attempt to hold in my sounds as my pussy convulses around her fingers, milking every ounce of pleasure I can before my body practically collapses.
Slumping back into my chair, I lift my napkin to my mouth and dab it demurely.
“If you’ll excuse me, I need to use the restroom.”
My father dismisses me with one hand, too focused on his dinner to even care as I push my chair back and do my best to casually move to the bathroom. I grip the edge of the sink, hanging my head and trying to get my breathing under control. Holy fucking shit. That was so dangerous and yet so fucking hot.
A knock comes at the bathroom door and I already know who it is before I open it. I debate not opening it, but I’m still so fucking horny I need her. Ripping open the door, I yank her inside before shutting it behind her. She doesn’t even get a chance to speak before my mouth is on hers. I cup her face with my hands as my mouth devours her.
Maggie accepts my attack happily, her hands roaming over my body before slipping her fingers into my mouth.
“Suck, baby. Suck your cum off my fingers.”
I do as she says, licking and sucking before she shoves me to the ground. I look up at her from my knees as she drops her jean shorts and panties to the ground before hooking her leg over my shoulder. She doesn’t give me a moment, not a warning or a single breath, before she is shoving my face into her pussy. Her grip on my hair tightens as she grinds against my face, my tongue twirling around her clit as I begin lapping at her delicious taste.
“Fuck yes. You get me so wet, baby. I can’t control myself with you.”
I hum around her, sending a shiver rippling through her body as I slip a finger inside. She bites her lip, muffling her moan as her hold on my hair intensifies. She’s full on fucking my face now, and I love every second of it.
Oh god. I don’t even know what to think of this, to think of myself. It’s one thing to enjoy kissing a woman, even to like her touching and sucking me. It’s another entirely when I love touching and licking her just as much. That’s it. Maggie Bartlett has to be a drug, some kind of addictive substance the world doesn’t know about because if they did, everyone would be gladly overdosing on her.
“Don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop. Please,” she whimpers.
I have no intention of stopping, though. Not until I taste her cum on my tongue. I don’t have to wait long for that, though. Her head tips back, her mouth dropping open on a silent scream as she convulses around my finger, her cum hitting my tongue as I greedily lick up every drop.
She has barely finished shaking before a quick knock comes from the door. Maggie quickly bends down, pulling up her shorts as I stand up when my brother opens the door. His eyes look like they are about to pop out of his head as he whisper yells.
“So it’s true? You’re fucking my sister?” he asks Maggie.
“Shut the fuck up, Brad,” I hiss.
His eyes move to me. “Since when do you like pussy?”
“I don’t!” I defend.
“You can’t fool me. It smells like pussy and your mouth is shiny and wet. And her pants are still down!” he says, pointing to Maggie.
“Jesus, fucking calm down,” Maggie says with an eyeroll as she finishes buttoning her pants.
“How the fuck am I supposed to calm down? This is disturbing.”
Maggie’s eyebrows knit together as she looks at him.
“Weren’t you begging me to fuck a girl in front of you just yesterday?”
“Yeah, a girl. Not my sister. Now when I think about you with anyone, it’s gonna be her, and that’s…” He trails off, his face ashen like he’s going to puke.
Rolling my eyes, I shake my head as I grab a tissue and wipe my mouth.
“Grow up, Bradley. I’m a grown woman. I can hook up with whoever I want.”
“Yeah? Is that what you’re gonna tell dad when he finds out?” he asks with a raised brow.
Fear twists inside me as I turn to threaten him, but Maggie beats me to the punch.
“Speak a word to anyone and I’ll have you locked up for possession so fast it’ll make your head spin.”
He looks caught off guard before rolling his eyes. “I wouldn’t tell anyone, and you can’t bust me for possession. Weed is legal.”
“But cocaine is not,” Maggie says. “I saw four eight balls in your backpack just yesterday. If I’m correct, I think that’s enough to get you with intent to distribute.”
A thunderous look passes across his face.
“Fine, fuck. Jesus, I won’t tell anyone about your little lesbian affair,” he says as he shakes his head and slips out the door.
When he does, Maggie turns to me, cupping my face, her eyes heavy with concern.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Why?”
She shrugs. “Well, someone knows. I know you weren’t at all ready for that, nor did you want it. It’s okay to be upset.”
I shrug my shoulders. “It’s just Brad. He would never hurt me. He was just giving us shit.”
Maggie nods as she runs her fingers through my hair.
“I’m sure, but if he tries to take you down, I’m taking him down, too.”
I tilt my head to the side curiously.
“Why? Why are you so protective over me? Over keeping this a secret?”
“Because I want you safe,” she says, as if it were just that simple, before placing a quick kiss on my lips and slipping out the door.
My head is left reeling as I stare into the mirror wondering why my stomach flipped and my heart seized in my chest at her words.