15. The Swim
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE SWIM
Layla
I waver in front of the mirror as I stare at my reflection. I’d grabbed a swimsuit without thinking, and it just so happened to be the one I’d worn to the beach with Zoe three weeks ago. The one I’d gotten a size too small because it was half off. It’s not my body that’s the problem, and it’s taken me years to heal from my adolescence of hating myself to be able to say that. I know that my workout routine means that I have abs and sculpted muscles shaping my legs. I’m not overweight, but I am curvy. I’m strong and I’m proud of how hard I work.
No, it’s not that.
It’s the skimpy blue swimsuit that barely contains my breasts and barely covers my ass crack. I’d laughed when Zoe made me buy it, and it worked for sunbathing, but to wear it around Orion? I had major underboob, and I now regret taking the pads out of the top cups because my nipples are very obviously ready to play.
Wonderful.
I pull my hair back into a loose bun, and then I mutter screw it several times before pulling the door of the beautiful guest room open.
The whole apartment is beautiful. Marble floors that are so shiny I could eat off them, gorgeous, colorful art pieces, leather furniture, and things I would never really associate with Orion, like fresh flowers. Peonies, as a matter of fact.
Interesting choice. Maybe his housekeeper likes them.
Or his girlfriend, I think glumly.
Orion isn’t in the kitchen anymore, but I refill my water and walk over to the patio door, and when my eyes land on my stepbrother…
Holy—
He’s standing a few feet away from me, wearing tight swim shorts that cling to his ass muscles. His back is wide and strong, his large muscles knitting together with every movement. A black tattoo snakes down his right arm and all down the right side of his back.
My hand involuntarily reaches for the handle of the patio door. It clicks open, and I step out just as he turns to face me.
Fortunately, I don’t seem to be the only one left speechless.
His mouth drops open slightly as he takes me in, but then his face drops into his usual cocky smirk. He begins walking to the pool.
“I’m going to do some laps,” he says brusquely.
“Me too.”
I don’t swim often, but moving in the cool water feels nice. And the view? Incredible. All of Crestwood and Los Angeles is open before me, and it feels like I’m swimming in some exclusive club rather than my stepbrother’s apartment. The pool has no edge—the water falls off the side into an infinity-type design, and there’s a glass railing that overlooks the city. A few deck chairs are on the opposite side of the pool with what looks to be a state-of-the-art outdoor kitchen.
It’s very fancy, but it doesn’t scream Orion. Then again, how would I know that?
I submerge myself and dip my head, taking my scrunchie out and letting my hair fall down my back before leaning against the wall of the shallow end. Orion swims closer, popping up right in front of me. I try to scoot back but I’m pressed against the wall and too surprised to do anything.
He lifts a hand and runs his index finger over the strap of my bikini before I even have a chance to react. “Pretty swimsuit,” he murmurs, smiling. “Did you wear it just for me?”
My skin pebbles as my mouth drops open, and I just know he can see the way my nipples harden at his touch. I can’t breath—and he only moves an inch closer as if he’s going to say something else.
But then he pushes away, swimming freestyle away from me.
God. He’s such an arrogant jerk sometimes.
I continue standing against the opposite wall and watch as he moves fluidly through the water, attempting to catch my breath.
He must swim a lot. He’s not even out of breath when he stops right in front of me and pops up from the water, wiping his face and flicking his hair to the side.
“You know, it’s rude to stare.”
My chest burns with embarrassment. My skin is still tingling from where he touched me a minute ago.
“I was just admiring your cardiovascular health. You’re not even out of breath. How many laps do you do every day?”
He smirks and moves closer again so he’s only a few inches away, but this time I’m more prepared. We’re standing in the shallow end, so the water only comes up to my waist. I don’t let my eyes wander down to his chest as he gets closer, but I can see how the water collects and drips off his perfectly hewn pectoral muscles.
“A lot,” he says, his voice husky. “There are certain… extracurricular activities that require peak cardiovascular health ,” he adds, his lips pulling into a lopsided smile.
I’m panting from the heat. That’s all. It’s over a hundred degrees out, and despite the pool being cold, I’m sweating and not breathing from the heat .
“That’s good. Your girlfriend must be pleased,” I retort, instantly regretting it when a large smile breaks out on his face.
“Oh, she is.”
I clench my jaw and cross my arms, trying to think of something to say to change the subject and not imagine what it would be like to sleep with Orion.
“I like your tattoo,” I tell him, pointing at the pointe shoes visible on his left pectoral.
His lips twitch. “Thank you.”
“Did you get it for your mom?” I ask, my voice soft as I wipe the water off my cheeks.
Orion’s eyes twinkle like he’s keeping a secret—but before I can ask why he’s not answering, he turns around and swims away from me.
When he’s on the other side of the pool, I start to do the breaststroke. My nipples are hard from the cool water, and that only enhances the arousal pulsing through me. My mind wanders to the image Starboy sent the other night, and as I swim, my arousal gets more potent. It doesn’t help that Orion swims beside me, his muscles flexing with each fluid movement through the water. I lick my lips, and when I get to the middle of the pool, I turn over onto my back and begin to float.
How is it that both men make me feel so alive? It should be easy—I should be able to turn it off for Orion. After all, we grew up together. He’s always been my stepbrother in my mind. Except that’s not true, either. Before we stopped talking, something had shifted between us. I remember my eighteenth birthday, specifically, and the way it somehow felt different when he placed his arm around my shoulders during dinner. He’d dropped his arm and never touched me like that again—like he could sense when things had shifted, like me.
Neither of us would ever admit it, but I remember, even now, the way his eyes would linger. The way I’d stare at his neck while he chewed his food and swallowed, the way he gripped utensils with his large hands, and the way he’d do pull-ups while I did barre.
The air around me changed whenever he was around, and I’d be stupid if I couldn’t admit that it had always been that way.
Even when I said I hated him.
Especially when I said I hated him.
And that kiss a few months ago? It smoldered. I’d never been kissed like that—never been held like that or touched like that.
It was like he revered me at that moment.
And the look in his eyes…
I squeeze my eyes shut tighter as my chest aches.
Starboy, on the other hand, isn’t my stepbrother. It should be an easy choice.
The sun beats down on my stomach and chest, and when I open my eyes, Orion stands above me on the side of the pool—darkened eyes on me.
I quickly stand upright and dunk underneath the water.
How did this all get so confusing so quickly? How did my feelings with Orion become so muddled with my feelings for Starboy?
It would be great if the universe could space things out. Nearly three years of celibacy and then bam! Here are two hot guys, and you can only choose one of them.
Talk about not fair.
I walk to the stairs of the pool and climb out, reaching for my towel. I dry off, and when I look over at Orion, he’s walking away.
I head into the cool apartment, and Sparrow comes running over to me, sliding between my legs.
“This place is nice, huh?” I ask, squatting down and petting him along his spine. He arches his back and lets out a loud meow. “I know. I like it here, too.”
Wrapping the towel around my waist, I walk into the kitchen and see Orion scooping out some of Sparrow’s wet food.
“I figured he was hungry,” he says, placing the food bowl on the floor.
I lean against the counter as the cold water from my hair drips down between my breasts. Orion glances up at me, and I swear I see something shutter behind his eyes before they flick down to my chest and back up in half a second.
His right hand twitches at his side.
“I’m going to shower,” he says, his voice low.
As he brushes past me, his arm briefly touches my shoulder, and it feels like a million fireworks go off inside me all at once as a full-body shiver works through me.
The pulsing between my legs gets worse, and I bite my lower lip.
I should not be thinking things like this about him.
Not only is he completely off-limits, but he’s dating someone.
And there’s Starboy, too.
I hang around for a few minutes, inspecting his kitchen. The fully stocked fridge and pantry are filled with healthy stuff, albeit there are a few treats here and there. Professional-looking pots and pans. Enough sparkling water to last a lifetime—strawberry flavored. The living room is basic with almost nothing personal, except a couple of pictures in frames on the fireplace mantel. I walk closer, smiling when I see an old picture of Orion with his brothers. He can’t be older than eight or nine—he’s tall and lanky with floppy, dark hair. Chase stands next to him, a knuckle in his hair, causing Orion to laugh in the photo. Liam and Miles look like they don’t want to be there, and Kai is smirking at Orion and Chase—ever the middle child.
My eyes wander to the other photo, and my heart nearly stops.
It’s me—the morning of my audition with the Paris School of Ballet.
It’s the selfie I sent him. The last one .
Before everything changed.
Before he ruined my future.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I back away slowly and walk down the hallway to my guest room.
The sound of running water catches my attention from the open door at the end of the hallway. I stop walking and listen closer, realizing that it’s likely Orion’s room and attached bathroom.
Tiptoeing closer, I hold my breath as I step inside the bedroom, and his room comes into view. I know I should turn around and mind my own business. I know this is wrong, yet I can’t help but be mesmerized with the layout of his room. The walls are white, and most of the furniture is dark wood. The bedspread on the massive bed is a dark gray linen, and I run my hand over the soft material. Two dark wood nightstands frame the bed, as does a matching dark wood bed frame. It’s tidier than I expected.
His closet is open, and I take a peek inside. It’s large—almost as big as my bedroom at my house. The smell of leather and smoke permeates the air, and I inhale discreetly. Closing the door quickly, I realize that inhaling his scent like a creep won’t be the worst thing I’ll be caught doing if I don’t get out of here quickly?—
A low, guttural groan cuts through the silence.
I stop moving and listen, wondering if I’m hearing things or if it’s coming from Orion’s bathroom. I look over my shoulder to see the bathroom door cracked, and amid the sound of the shower, I hear another sound.
“Fuck,” Orion rasps from inside.
Everything inside me pulls tight as I inch closer to the cracked bathroom door while my subconscious screams to walk away. But I’m entranced now, and I can’t help but want to hear more. When I get within a few inches of the door, I slowly shift my head to look inside the bathroom and?—
I jerk back and close my eyes because Orion’s naked body is right there and visible through the glass shower door. And… he’s masturbating.
My pulse spikes as heat flares through my veins, and a shudder passes through me at the sight of my stepbrother with his… thing… in his hand.
I lean forward again, suddenly addicted to the erotic visual of Orion masturbating. He’s so large that he fills the shower, and the water falls over his face and chest as he slowly strokes up and down his thick shaft. And it’s— thick. Swallowing, I stare at the dark pink head, at the way it seems to be straining, veiny and taut and hard. His head is dropped backward, eyes facing the ceiling, and his legs are spread slightly. He’s facing me, and my mouth goes dry as I watch him slowly move his hand in an up and down, fluid motion.
I pull back again, closing my eyes and pressing my legs together as I breathe through my nose. I’m spying on him, and it’s screwed up. I shouldn’t be here. But I can hear the water splash off his hand—can hear the way he slides his hand quicker now, the low rumble emanating from the shower, the hiss of pleasure coming from his lips.
A cloud of steam barrels out of the bathroom, and I’m suddenly lost in a sea of Orion—musky, with a hint of tobacco, leather, and smoke.
It’s his body wash—that’s what he’s using that makes him smell so good.
I look through the crack again, and instead of going slow, he’s now actively thrusting into his hand—barreling closer to his climax with the sort of desperate fervor you’d expect a starved man to exhibit while eating. Everything inside me turns to liquid as I watch him come undone, and I no longer feel regret for stumbling into this.
It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
I want to touch myself. Need to. But I curl my fists and stare entrenched as my stepbrother bites his lower lip and rolls his hips into his fist. I imagine that he has me pressed against the wall, and he’s entering me from behind—one hand grabbing my hair, and the other one pulling my hips onto his cock.
I imagine the filthy words he’d say, thinking of how commanding he was with Haley. Would he say those kinds of things to me, too?
You can take more.
He’d growl it. How would that growl sound echoing off the marble walls of the shower?
How would it feel for him to say those words to me ?
The veins in his arms strain, running down to his hand as he squeezes tighter, that same low rumble escaping his lips again. His breathing is sharp and ragged, and he’s still facing his face up with his eyes closed.
The space between my legs pulses, and I squirm as I watch his hips begin to jerk erratically. My lips part as I observe everything happening, and just as I’m about to walk away—for good this time—he drops his head and opens his eyes.
Looking straight at me.
Neither of us has time to react before his mouth drops open, and large, thick ropes of cum shoot out from his cock and onto the floor as he groans. His eyes never leave mine as his face goes slack, and his whole body shudders and shakes. His eyes shut briefly as he moans again, the aftershocks rolling through him.
I turn and stumble away.