Chapter 4
The Present
A s I splashed cold water on my face in the ensuite bathroom, memories of the surreal high school party in the Hamptons flooded in.
I’d convinced myself it was a fluke. Will had been amusing himself, for unfathomable reasons, and I’d been lonely and dazzled. I hadn’t really dated yet. We’d been kids, dumb kids. He could have any girl he wanted. When I accepted Aunt Rose’s invitation to visit this summer, I’d expected that weekend to stay buried in the past.
And the summer job? Either it was Uncle Richard’s way of making up for the threatening cease-and-desist letter that had doused my writing fire, or he’d forgotten that as well. Probably the second. I expected his lawyers sent letters like that every day.
I peeked into the empty hallway. The silent house reassured me that I was alone. Mornings were normally filled with the bustle of staff — maids, a chef, gardeners, drivers and security — but today was Sunday, and Sunday was the house staff’s day off. The silence told me my relatives were also gone, which left me free to roam the house barefoot and not worry what they thought. I could lounge in my ancient nightshirt and drink all the coffee in the world while flipping through the paper and talking to no one.
Padding into the kitchen, I stopped suddenly.
A lone male leaned back in a kitchen chair. Wet dark hair curled around his ears. Unlike me, Will was fully dressed in a lavender polo shirt, khakis, a brown leather belt, and polished shoes to match. I caught myself staring at sleek male muscles, bare tanned arms, a heavy watch that glinted under the blown-glass hanging lamps.
And he was the last person who needed to see my sweaty tumble of red hair, the oversized t-shirt I’d loved long enough to wear holes in, and my bare legs. One look at me, and he’d know all I had on underneath was a pair of skimpy panties.
“Morning.” Green eyes flicked in my direction.
I nodded briefly, rattling through the stained-glass cabinets for a mug. Any excuse not to look at the long lines of my cousin’s body. The business section of the paper was spread out on the table, taking up all the space. I wondered if Will and I were the only two people our age who actually read the news on paper.
Seeing the newspaper brought back more uncomfortable memories of that night in the Hamptons. The article I’d written, the hopes I’d had. I didn’t know if Will had read it through, or how he felt about it. Whether he was capable of feeling anything.
Focusing on the shining espresso maker in front of me, I tried to act normal. I’d worked one of these for three months at a summer job, churning out dozens of lattes and mochas, but as I peered at the knobs and buttons, it felt like I’d never seen one before.
Footsteps sounded close to me. I felt the warmth of Will’s body next to mine.
“Like this.” He filled the handled filter with coffee grounds, tamped them down, and locked the filter into the machine.
“Thanks,” I murmured. I was very aware of how short my nightshirt was, inches below the hem of my underwear. The thin material clung to my body.
“I lost you last night.” Will flipped a switch, setting a metal pitcher underneath the fragrant drip. When he crossed the wide kitchen to get milk, his arm brushed mine. I crossed my legs. The steam wand buzzed, frothing the milk. “I was going to introduce you to everybody.”
“It’s really okay.”
“Did you go hide in the trees again?”
“More or less.” I ran a finger around the rim of my coffee cup. “Your family has nice trees.”
“Hm.” Will took the mug out of my hand and tipped the pitchers over it, pouring in espresso and milk. He watched as I sipped, foam coating my upper lip. When my tongue flicked out to lick it off, I’d never felt so self-conscious.
“Taste good?” he asked.
Of course it tasted good. Everything in this house was delicious. I nodded and sipped again, inhaling the burnt fragrance. “Really good.”
“I’m glad.” A hand settled on my waist.
“Will—“
“Just enjoy it.” He nodded toward the coffee, but his hand slid over my stomach, fingers fanning out. My insides turned over. Heat spread from his palm to my skin, burning through thin cotton. Lips met my neck from behind.
“You’re not drunk,” I whispered, panicking. A nervous throb tightened my body. I managed to let go of the coffee cup, setting it down on the counter. “You don’t have an excuse.”
“I don’t need one.” His voice was low. Both hands caressed my stomach, moving up to cup my breasts through the soft nightshirt.
“You can’t do that,” I hissed.
“Sure I can.” He squeezed the small mounds lightly. Thumbs rubbed over my nipples. “I’m doing it right now.”
When I wriggled, a strong body pressed me against the counter, holding me firmly in place. I smelled cologne, light and crisp (and my head swam).
“You shouldn’t touch me that way.”
“Oh, really?” He kissed my neck. I shuddered, need flaming outward from his mouth.
During college, in the dark of night when I couldn’t sleep, when I felt lonely and restless and hot with ambition, burning to get out into a world that didn’t feel quite real beyond my room, I’d rubbed between my legs and thought of my cousin.
I’d clutched the note he’d given me. You look sexy when you run.
I’d remembered how he’d betrayed me with that article.
I’d felt confused and a little crazy when I came. And aroused, so very aroused.
“Will, stop,” I said more strongly. “We can’t.” My nipples hardened instantly under his thumbs.
“I don’t want to stop.” Fingers tickled the sensitive underside of one breast. More fingers pinched my other nipple. A gasp left my mouth. “I don’t think you want me to either.”
I moaned, trying to step back, but I was trapped against the counter.
“Is this about that graduation party?” I whispered. “When we were stupid teenagers? I figured you forgot. It was so long ago.”
Will laughed softly, his breath warm on my neck. “I didn’t forget. There’s a lot that should have happened that night, sweet cousin. A lot to make up for.”
A chill ran through me. “Will, wait. What are you talking about? We can’t—”
“Are you wet, Andie?” a deep voice whispered. One leg wedged between mine, opening my thighs. I shook my head, refusing to answer, shamefully aware that my crotch was moist and my panties damp. My nightshirt was riding up my body. I cried out when a large, warm hand slid under the light fabric to palm my belly, touching silky underwear and bare skin. “Let’s find out.”
“Will—”
“Ssshhh,” he soothed. “I’ve been waiting years to find out how this little pussy feels.”
“No,” I gasped when those fingers slipped inside my panties and stroked the soft curls. Slowly, they parted my moist lips. His low chuckle made me shiver.
This couldn’t be happening. Will couldn’t be exploring between my legs, his muscled body pinning me to the kitchen counter, his touch light and teasing as he discovered how slippery my folds were. When his fingers massaged my clit, sudden wetness trickled onto his hand. More juice trickled down my thigh.
“Yes,” Will murmured in my ear. “Mmm, yes, you are. You’re so wet.”
“Don’t,” I groaned, as his hand became more insistent and my crotch became slicker. Fingers pinched my clit, much too good, rubbing it into embarrassing excitement.
“I let you run last time, little cousin. But you’re here now. You came right to me.” His lips were on my earlobe, sliding toward my throat. Every stroke and lick happened in slow motion. Then he caressed my opening.
“Uhhh — you’re inside me —” Instinctively, I tightened on his fingers, clenching a thickness that stretched me too wide, just as Will made a surprised noise behind me. “Will, please…”
“Please? You said please, baby?” His breath tickled my vulnerable neck. “You mean, please use only one finger, because your tiny, sweet, virgin pussy can’t handle more than that?” I quivered, stunned, as he punctuated each dirty word with a flex of his fingers. Thankfully, the pressure eased up. Then I stiffened when one finger sank deeper inside me, my cousin holding me close against the counter while he penetrated me. I was gasping, pinned in place by the firm leg between mine.
“Stop,” I pleaded. He was playing with me, as callous and selfish as everyone had been at that graduation party. I meant nothing to him, I knew. This shouldn’t feel good. He shouldn’t dare to touch me this way.
He only chuckled, kissing my neck as his finger sank deeper inside me. When I squirmed, the material of Will’s khakis rubbed against my bare thighs. The contact made me shudder with need. A hard bulge pressed against the curve of my lower back.
“Why are you doing this?” I whispered.
“Why are you still a virgin, Andie?” he whispered back.
“None of your business.” I closed my eyes in embarrassment when my tight opening fluttered around Will’s finger. He was moving it in and out, slowly, caressing me from the inside. His touch kept drawing slickness out from my folds.
“It is my business.” His other hand still surrounded my breast, fondling it through my nightshirt. His body was warm and firm behind me. “Very much my business.” My nipple ached, grazed teasingly by his palm. “What the fuck were you doing in college? How’d they let you graduate?”
“How’d they let you in?” I was standing on my bare toes, clutching the granite counter. Struggling only ground my wet mound against his wrist. The shining silver espresso maker swam in front of me. I tried not to moan. “Oh, wait. There’s a building with your name on it.”
Will laughed softly in my ear, but I felt his muscles stiffen. The large finger buried inside me sank deeper. I groaned, everything in my body crying out to push back against him. “You’re here for the summer. I feel responsible.”
“What are you saying?” I panted.
“Oh…” His palm slid up my stomach under my nightshirt, driving a gasp from my mouth when hot skin met the bare curve of my breast. “I think you know.”
“Will, we shouldn’t do this, you have to stop…” I begged, just as his finger slipped out of my wetness and found my clit again. Shamefully, my ass arched against the firm bulge nestled there. I couldn’t keep back a loud moan.
“Really?” Will chuckled. I jerked against him at a bite on my earlobe. “Not when my sweet little cousin is so close to coming. I couldn’t do that to you.”
“Please,” I pleaded. It ended on a sob as he rubbed my clit. Pleasure coursed through my pussy, rushing up to my nipples. I couldn’t help thrusting my breast into my cousin’s caressing hand. “This is wrong, Will…. You have to stop, please…”
“Uh,” he grunted. He was pushing that hard bulge against my cheeks now, rhythmically. It felt huge. “No.”
His hand left my breast, my nipple throbbing, to pull my panties from my dripping crotch. I gasped when a large finger worked into my tight opening again, stretching me, while more fingers mercilessly rubbed my clit. He was stroking me with both hands, pinning me to the counter with his body. The rich aroma of coffee wafted toward my nose.
“Have you ever gotten off, Andie? Ever, sweet baby?” His whisper was so soft and slow in my ear. “Do you know what it’s like to come hard? Do you know what it’s like to just give in to pleasure?” Each word tickled my earlobe. “Do you know what it’s like to get exactly what you want?”
“Yes, but…but not like that,” I whispered, flushing at the confession. A hot tongue stroked my neck. “I mean, I have, but it hasn’t— Not with a guy, not like— Uhhh, Will…”
The pleasure built until I couldn’t take it anymore. My pussy clamped down on my cousin’s intruding finger, spasming again and again. I braced my hands on the counter, grateful for his firm thighs holding me in place.
“Oh…” I gasped. “Oh God. Will. Oh please…”
“There we go.” Will murmured, grinding his cloth-covered bulge against my ass. I moaned and shook and came. I couldn’t stop. “That’s more like it.” His breath was coming faster. “Little slut cousin,” he whispered in my ear, and I gasped and convulsed again. Then he grunted, pushing against my quivering body with short jerks.
“What’s happening?” I squirmed against my cousin. I didn’t — he couldn’t be — yes. He was. I knew exactly what was happening. I was grinding Will’s solid thigh, gripping the cool granite countertop, rubbing my cream into a froth on his hands. My cousin was thrusting against me with long, smooth strokes. My body shook with pleasure as Will’s satisfied groans filled my ears.
He held me firmly against him, cupping my pussy in both hands, as his thrusts slowed. Finally, his finger eased from my tight warmth. He gave my clit a little flick before smoothing my underwear in place and deftly straightening my nightshirt. And finally, he stepped back.
“Turn around.” His voice was calm, smiling. I realized my legs were shaky. Slowly, I turned around. “That’s what happened.” He pointed to the damp stain on his crotch, a stain on his otherwise impeccable khaki pants, and gave me a brilliant smile. “I jizzed my pants because my little virgin cousin came so hard when I fingered her, and it was so cute the way she kept begging me to stop.”
I ran my fingers through my hair desperately. My panties were soaked, clinging to my damp pussy. “Will, listen.”
“Want to help me clean up?” He pulled his zipper down. Just then, the front door opened.
* * *
Whirling, I dashed out of the kitchen and into a long, hot shower. Thankfully, I avoided running into whoever had just arrived. I’d abandoned Will before I could find out what he meant by helping him clean up. But his open zipper filled my mind with forbidden images.
I was too stunned to feel anything but the drops of water raining down on my body. As they sluiced over my breasts, Will’s hands were there again, cupping the soft mounds and pinching my swollen pink nipples.
In a daze, my own hand slipped between my legs to find the soaked folds that had just convulsed around my cousin’s fingers. I shuddered, leaning against the slate tiled wall.
Pussy. His word, not mine. But the syllables sent out tendrils that wound around my arms and legs, my waist, my breasts. Now that he’d said it, touched me there, I couldn’t stop thinking it. Steam rose and water splashed over me while I slowly stroked my clit, shame and excitement twining together into waves of pleasure that peaked in long, slow spasms.
Coffee. I still needed my coffee. Remembering that fragrant cup got me into a peasant blouse and cutoffs, dragged a comb through my long ginger strands, and propelled me out of my bedroom and back into the kitchen. By the counter stood Will, also freshly showered, in new clean khakis and a different polo shirt, talking with Aunt Rose.
“Andie, you want to hang out today?” He turned toward me. “I’ll take you out.” His voice was normal. Friendly. And his smile — all wholesome family affection. “Here,” he added, handing me my mug of cooled coffee. “We’re going boating. Spence and Pax will be there, from the party. They both really liked Andie,” he added to his mother off-handedly. Aunt Rose drawled something about nice boys and nice families.
“I have a lot to do.” I gripped my coffee cup. What game was he playing? “Galleys to look over. Books to read. Work stuff. I’ll just stay here.”
My aunt shrugged her delicate shoulders. “Don’t forget we’re going to the ballet on Thursday night. Tony will drive me into the city to meet you. Will and Richard are going to join us for dinner beforehand. They’ll collect you from the publishing house. Will, pick something suitable for Andrea from my closet, would you? She needs your help.”
Heat washed over my cheeks. “Thanks, Aunt Rose, but I’m fine.”
Will smiled reassuringly at me. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you’re all set.”
Quickly, I made for the back patio.
Outside, alone with the whispering trees, my mind struggled to make sense of what had happened. What was I supposed to do? Talk about it with Will? No, I should stay the hell away from him.
When the twin sounds of motors rumbled softly from the front of the house — Aunt Rose with the driver, Will in one of his cars — I slipped in through the back door, got my embroidered purse, and walked the two miles to the train station.
For hours, I followed the sidewalks in the city. The constant parade of color, sound, and smell absorbed me in its flow. I found a ramen shop and slurped noodles, my legs curled under the vinyl chair. I flipped through magazines in a store, smelling the inked pages, a retreat from the sticky heat outside. I played chess in a plaza with an old man who also had nothing to say. Bubbles rose in the air above us.
Why was I still a virgin? I’d told Will it was none of his business, but the truth was, I wasn’t sure myself. I’d had boyfriends. We’d touched. It had been okay — just okay. And I’d never felt the urge for more. I’d never admitted to my boyfriends that I liked my own hands on my body better than theirs, or that I thought penises were a little ridiculous. I’d never wanted someone enough to take them inside me.
On the train home, the vague thought came that I should be furious. But all I felt was Will’s hand between my legs. All I heard were his shockingly crude whispers in my ears.