Total pages in book: 216
Estimated words: 206530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1033(@200wpm)___ 826(@250wpm)___ 688(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 206530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1033(@200wpm)___ 826(@250wpm)___ 688(@300wpm)
“Oh,” I squeak out. Both of them are touching me. Oh God. Oh my God. It feels amazing. But wrong.
No, it’s just the way that I’m feeling about how they’re touching me that is wrong. Dominick’s a doctor. Of course he knows how to give an amazing massage. My feet and lower legs have never felt so loose—truly a miracle since the rest of my body is winding tighter and tighter.
“You really have some tension up here,” Dad murmurs, kneading my shoulder. “You’ve been studying too hard. It’s the weekend now. Time to relax and let go of all that. You’re home now. With family.” He rubs around to my collarbone and pulls me back into his chest. “Shh, that’s right, sweet girl.” He shifts me so I’m cradled in his arms. “You must be so tired.”
It feels amazing to be cocooned in him.
And also miserable.
Because those tingles between my legs? Not just tingles anymore. I’m downright pulsing down there. The need to twist, to find some kind of friction—
And screw everything up all because of my stupid, inappropriate… I can’t even finish the thought.
I jerk away from Dad and pull my legs out of Dominick’s hold. The blanket falls away from my shoulders as I jump to my feet.
“I’m gonna go to bed now,” I blurt without looking at either of them. “See you tomorrow. I’ll make pancakes if anyone’s around.”
And then I make a beeline for the stairs. As in, speed-walk as fast as possible, do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars, get my butt upstairs, close my door and stand with my back against it breathing hard and no doubt leaving the two of them wondering about what a complete freak I am.
“One hundred percent freakdom,” I whisper to myself, then bang my head against the door before going to wash up and brush my teeth.
Ten minutes later I’m under the covers with the lights off, still feeling like the most miserable excuse for a sister and daughter.
Especially since that feeling down there? The pulsing is still just as intense as it was when they had their hands on me. The more I tell myself not to think about it, the worse it seems to get.
Do not think about how strong and sure Dominick’s hands felt when he caressed up your calves.
Oh my God, what is wrong with me? It wasn’t a caress, dumbass. He was giving you a massage. He was being clinical. I work out by jogging and my calves get tight. I bet he could feel how knotted up I am.
As soon as my logical self explains this, though, the image flashes: Dominick’s hand moving up past my knee, higher, caressing up my inner thigh. Then further still.
I gasp and my back arches.
I suck my lower lip into my mouth and my hand travels down my stomach. Into my panties. I squeeze my eyes shut in shame, but it doesn’t stop my fingers from seeking that spot.
All the breath in my lungs expels as soon as I make contact. With my eyes shut, I can so clearly imagine it’s Dominick touching me there, that blond mop of hair of his sweeping to the side as he grins at me. So pleased to please me.
Feel good, little sister? I imagine him whispering.
I writhe against my hand.
Oh God, so wrong. All of it. I hate it whenever I give in to touching myself like this. It’s dirty and base and I detest everything about it. I walked in on my mom doing it to herself while on her laptop camera for some guy when I was barely a teenager. I was so disgusted, I swore I’d never—
But that movie tonight. And the way the boys were holding me, I just can’t stop. My hips jerk forward and back as I buck against my hand.
My door creaks open.
I freeze and look toward the door. Oh God, oh God, oh God, did one of them hear me? I could have sworn I wasn’t making any noises but what do I know? No one’s ever been in the house before when I’ve—
I jerk my hand away from myself but then am mortified as either Dominick or Dad’s shadow appears in the doorway. What if they saw the movement and guessed at what I was doing? Or the smell. Can they smell…you know? My aroma?
I shove my face into the pillow but then realize that’s stupid. Obviously whichever one of them it is knows I’m awake. I’ve been moving and spazzing all over the place.
“What’s up?” I ask, though my voice comes out more like a high-pitched squeak.
“You ran off so quick.” Dominick’s voice. He steps in the room and closes the door behind him. “I wanted to make sure everything’s okay.”
He steps closer, his face cast in heavy shadow with just the light of my nightlight in the room.