Chapter Ten
Eric
The snowstorm has enabled us to stay wrapped up in this sexual fantasy come to life. With the salon having been closed because the roads are too bad, we’ve spent several days naked, fucking, and pretending the outside world doesn’t exist.
It’s been the best week of my life.
But, today, there’s been a heaviness in the air. A foreboding. Something I can’t put my finger on, but is most certainly there. It’s worrisome.
“You okay?” Clara asks, looking up from the wrapping paper strewn all over the living room floor. “You’re huffing and puffing.”
Frosty, who’s sitting in my lap, thumps his tail at hearing Clara’s voice, even in his sleep.
She’s magnetic like that.
“Yeah,” I lie and then huff, earning me an arched brow. “Well, okay, no. I’m stressed for some reason.”
“About us?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “Could be life. The snowstorm. Nothing.”
She slaps a red, shiny bow on a present that’s going to one of our little sisters, and then climbs to her feet. I would move Frosty over, but he’s snoring, and I don’t have the heart to. Clara nestles in next to me and takes my hand in hers.
“It’s going to be okay. All of it. Aren’t you happy right now?” She turns to look up at me, eyes shining with hope.
I lean forward and kiss her plump lips. “Hell yeah. My sex life is peak.”
She smirks and flashes me a sultry grin. “Best you’ve ever had?”
“And then some.”
In fact, I’ve fucked her so much over the last couple of days, I swear my dick is going to fall off from overuse. It’s still going strong, though, always ready for a romp when she is.
“I know how to loosen you up,” she says, sliding off the couch. “Alcohol.”
I chuckle as she sashays toward the kitchen, eyeing her cute ass as it jiggles.
One day I’m going to push my dick into that hole too.
My twitching cock must irritate Frosty because he growls at me.
Then, he stands up, smashing the thing, before scampering out of the living room and up the stairs.
He knows the signs, and clearly finds it too awkward to be around us when we’re being naughty.
“Want to play a game with me?” Clara calls out from the kitchen.
I rise to my feet. “Always.”
“Come here.”
Since I’m only wearing my boxers, I shove them down first, knowing the game will be more fun while naked.
Once I make it to the kitchen, my cock thickens.
Clara is also naked and is dipping her tit into the Cool-Whip container.
She’s artfully placed a huge gob over her pussy, hiding that sweet part of her from me.
“What are you doing?” I demand, taking a step forward, and licking my lips.
She laughs and waggles a finger at me. “Nope. You have to follow the rules. Your turn.”
I grunt when she approaches with the tub of whipped cream. It’s obvious she wants me to put my cock into the soft, creamy foam. Gripping onto my cock, I stir it around inside, shivering at the sensation. Then, I scoop some up to cover the top as well.
“Messy, sass. Tell me about this game.”
She sets the container on the counter. “Every time you answer a question, you get to lick me.”
My cock bounces, flinging Cool-Whip all over the floor. “You’re going to lick me too.”
I step closer and she shakes her head. “That’s cheating. Stay out of touching distance unless it’s your turn.”
“I already hate this game. Hit me with the questions, woman. I need to suck you clean.”
She laughs and her tits bounce. My mouth fucking waters. “First, we drink!”
With my hands on my hips and my whipped cream covered cock jutting out in front of me, I stare at her sexy ass as she turns to make us a drink. The naughty girl teases me, dancing to the classic Christmas music playing on her record player in the other room.
“Do you want to fuck me?” she asks, shooting a smirk over her shoulder. “Hmm? Easy question.”
“Fuck yes.”
“Come lick me.”
I fall to my knees behind her, spread her ass cheeks, and run my tongue over her puckered hole.
“Eric!” she shrieks. “There’s not whipped topping there!”
“My bad.” I rise to my feet and give her cute ass a playful swat. “Next time I’ll do better.”
She turns to face me, handing me a tall, clear mug with painted candycanes on it. It’s filled with a creamy liquid. One whiff tells me there’s rum in it.
“Spiked eggnog,” she says, lifting her own glass. “Cheers to this being the best holiday season yet.”
I’ll drink to that.
We clink glasses and I take a hearty chug. Holy shit. How many shots did she put in this thing?
Her cackle of laughter has my cock throbbing. “Too much?”
“Nah. My turn.” I pin her with a filthy, wicked glare. “Who’s better in bed? Me or Travis?”
She gapes at me, cheeks turning bright red. “You, duh. You’re adventurous and I love that.”
Pleased, I point at my cock. “Come have a taste, beautiful.”
Her tits bounce prettily as she kneels. Then, as if she’s scared of my dick, she flicks her tongue out and tastes the smallest bit of cream.
“Clara,” I growl, frowning at her.
She shrugs and stands back up. “The game will be over too quick if I suck it all off now.”
And then it’s on. Rapid-fire questions. Back and forth. I’m much more efficient at licking the dessert off her body than she is mine. I’m determined to win this thing.
Her tits are clean. Sticky, but no longer have the Cool-Whip on them. She unsteadily hops onto the countertop and spreads her thighs. After the first glass of eggnog, we switched to drinking straight from the liquor bottle. Clara blurs in front of me and my body burns with heat.
“What are you going to do with your life now, Eric?” Her question isn’t a sexy, teasing one. It’s real, raw, and brittle. It’s a question I don’t know the answer to. My mouth waters to lick her pussy, but I can’t because I’m unable to answer the question.
“That’s not fair,” I grumble.
The alcohol is making her vulnerable because her eyes shine with tears. “It seems simple to me. Stay here with me. Be with me.”
It should be that simple.
But is it?
What would I do for work? New York has more opportunities than our small town.
“I see,” she says, hopping off the counter.
She stumbles, intoxicated and unstable, and I catch her before she falls. With a teary hiss, she jerks out of my hold and turns on the water at the sink. After wetting a paper towel, she begins cleaning the stickiness off her body.
Unable to keep from touching her, I crowd her from behind, and tear the wet paper towel from her so I can do the cleaning. Her nipples pebble from the attention.
“Do you like fucking me in the kitchen because you want Travis to see?”
She struggles and manages to twist around to face me. “Fuck off, Eric. It wasn’t your turn.”
I grip her jaw and kiss her sloppily, needing to taste her sweetness. She smacks my sides and nips at my tongue. Pulling back, I glower at her.
“Answer me then,” she chokes out. “Are you staying or are you going?”
We’re drunk and this is a stupid argument. Or is it? The fun and fantasy can’t live on forever. Reality has to enter the conversation at some point. I guess that point is now.
“I don’t know.”
She bursts into tears and shoves at me. Since she’s small and I’m huge, she’s unable to move me. I slide my hand to her throat, keeping her still, and rub my cock against her belly. We’re sticky as fuck, but I don’t care. I need inside her.
“Don’t,” she snarls. “I can’t do this with you. Not if it’s going nowhere.” Her bottom lip trembles. “You’re no better than Travis. I’m just a fuck toy to you.”
This time, when she shoves me away, I stumble back, and bump into the refrigerator. Her cute nose is pink and tears stream down her gorgeous face. She’s heartbroken. I’m responsible for breaking it.
“Sass—”
“No,” she hisses with a sharp shake of her head. “I’m going to shower. And take my pill since I stupidly forgot it yesterday and haven’t taken it today. For some reason, I thought we were actually going somewhere with this.”
Panic surges up inside me.
Is she serious?
I jerk my eyes down to her taut belly, and imagine it swelling with my kid. It’s such a warm, pleasurable feeling, I have to clutch my chest to keep my heart from exploding.
It’s what I want.
Clara.
A family with her.
Love and sex and companionship.
Not with any woman. Her. It’s always been her.
With a sob, she takes off, stumbling out of the kitchen.
I prowl after her, taking the stairs two at a time as she scurries up them.
By the time she makes it to the bathroom, and attempts to close the door, I’m right behind her.
She curses at me and then clumsily grabs for her birth control.
Like the psycho I am, I snatch them out of her hand.
“No,” I bark out.
Her eyes fill with fire and she gapes at me. “Give them back.”
“Fuck no. You’re not taking them.”
“You don’t get to dictate what I do! You’re nothing to me!”
I grip her jaw with my other hand and bring my nose to hers. “You’re mine, so I can. End of discussion.”
Then, I turn on my heel and storm downstairs.
She hollers after me, but I ignore it. I throw on my boots and then yank on my coat before flinging open the front door.
A shriek behind me doesn’t deter me. With fury and determination running through my veins, I storm through the snow, not at all caring that my dick could get frost bite.
Footsteps crunch through the snow behind me. She clutches her coat to her naked body as she runs after me. I stomp through the snow all the way to the dumpsters.
“Eric!” she bellows. “Don’t you dare!”
The beer brothers are outside. They’re always partying. Tonight is no different. I’m not sure they even notice us. When I reach the first dumpster, I rear back my arm to throw it in. Clara grips my wrist, preventing me from heaving it into the metal bin.
This is ridiculous.
We’re both half naked, pissed and hurt, and I’m trying to trash her birth control.
Let this be a PSA: Alcohol is bad.
We struggle until she’s in front of me. I manhandle her until I have her pressed against the bin. She tries to take the pills from me but I have a death grip on them.
“You’re drunk,” I accuse, nuzzling my nose against hers.
“So are you. Asshole.”
“I’m throwing them away. Get over it.”
“I hate you.”
“Why?”
Her bottom lip trembles in the moonlight. “Because you’re confusing.”
I push my hips against hers. “Nothing confusing about how I feel about you.”
“Until you’re forced to face reality,” she hisses.
Yanking my hand out of hers, I then toss the pill packet into the bin. It lands soundlessly. Her eyes are wide and lips are parted in shock. I crash my lips to hers and vaguely hear the sounds of cheering.
“I love you,” I say against her mouth. “Just because I don’t know what the fuck’s going on with my life, that will never change. Understood?”
She nods and smiles. Our anger and heartache quickly transforms to need. I grab her ass and lift her up. One of her hands comes between us, guiding my cock into her. With a grunt, I drive into her hard enough she screams.
More cheering.
I fuck my stepsister roughly. Like an animal. Against a metal trash bin in the middle of a snowstorm with drunk onlookers.
Why?
Because I need for her to understand how much she consumes me.
We fuck quick and dirty until I spill my hot seed into her body. The idea of getting her pregnant makes me feral. Throwing the birth control away feels like victory.
She doesn’t come, but that’s okay. I’m going to lick her into oblivion in the shower when we get back home.
Home.
I’m no longer thinking about it as her place.
It’s ours.
I suppose I’ve made my decision.