Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
He moaned into my mouth, his hands fisted into my shirt, and every nerve ending in my body sparked with the feeling of finally.
Every moment, every conversation and fight and night spent in the attic, watching him create art, had all been leading to this precise second. Even as I had those thoughts, I wanted to evict them from my head because they were so much. So real and frightening and honest.
I slipped my tongue into his mouth, tightening my hold in his hair, wishing we were at home and I could devour him. I felt the edge of his chipped tooth and liked it even more. I wanted to lick every inch of his body, to strip him and savor him and make him see what he’d always been, what I’d always known. That he was mine.
“I think there’s a spot right ahead where we can stop and rest!” An unfamiliar voice shattered the bliss of that moment.
Lane tensed against me a second before he was ripping his mouth from mine and pushing me away. “What the fuck was that?”
“I…” My mouth was open, but nothing else came out. Lane’s lips were red from my kisses, but his eyes were wide, panicked, and the look of horror on his face was like a knife to the chest.
“Why would you do that? We can’t… We’re not… Mom and Dad… We’re brothers.”
“No, we’re not,” shot out of my mouth, sharp and with a sting even I felt. Lane flinched as if I’d hit him. “Fuck. That’s not what I meant. It’s just…”
But he was looking at me like he didn’t know me, like he didn’t understand me, and I couldn’t find it in myself to continue. He didn’t want this. It was going to make him hate me. All this time I’d held it together, only to ruin it now…
“You just told me all you want to do is fuck people, right before I said I want something serious, and then you kiss me?”
The weight on my shoulders, the one that lived in my heart, was even heavier than usual. The burden of the truth, of how much of a family we were and what this would do to us; of putting it all out there, of telling him how I felt, and Lane walking away. Because he didn’t want me. Not the way I wanted him.
“It would have been just sex, Lane. It’s not like we’re real brothers.” If he thought all I wanted was to fuck and that I was willing to risk our relationship for it, I’d make him believe he was right.
He looked at me, stared, the honey brown of his eyes turning ice cold. “Fuck you, Isaac.”
“Oh, look, it’s right over there.” The guy who’d spoken before was approaching.
Lane shoved to his feet and grabbed the backpack. “Let’s go.”
With a sigh, I picked up the rest of the things and followed him.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Lane
My thoughts were spinning out of control, and I couldn’t stop them, couldn’t even slow them down enough to focus on one thing.
Isaac had kissed me. My best friend, my brother, the most important person in my whole fucking world had kissed me, and Christ, he was, wasn’t he? Isaac was the most important person in my life. He had been since I was fourteen years old, and he’d trusted me with his secrets. He’d kissed me, and I’d kissed him back before he told me he wasn’t my brother and it would have been just sex.
I shouldn’t be as hurt as I was about the brother comment. I knew Isaac loved me, knew we were family, and considering he’d had his tongue in my mouth and mine in his, being related was the last thing I should want. It was all so confusing, all these thoughts raining down on me while the taste of him was still on my tongue, the sunshine scent of him still in my nose, the feel of him and the way he’d breathed life into me, the way his body had relaxed as if he’d finally let go of the tension he’d always held inside himself.
But he was my brother…only he wasn’t…except that in the ways that mattered, he was.
And he’d just told me that all he wanted to do was fuck his way through life.
We didn’t speak as we made our way back to my car.
“Lane…”
I held up my hand, afraid of what he would say, afraid of what he wouldn’t, confused about the storm of thoughts and mixed-up emotions in my head, the ache in my heart. “I can’t right now.”
I also couldn’t bring myself to look at him. I was scared of what I would feel if I did.
Because no matter what Isaac had done, I’d kissed him back.
And it had felt…right.
My stomach twisted, knots tangling on top of each other. All I could think about was Mom…and Dad. We were a family, and Isaac had kissed me, and I’d liked it. I wanted to do it again.