My dark, sexy, possessive stepbrother

Wandering Hands

    Just like everything else in this house, dinner is amazing. We're eating Jambalayah, it's a mouthful to say but it's delicious.

    Jocelyn's mother said it is a New Orleans delicacy. Turns out I was right, incidentally, about the older couple sitting across from me being Jocelyn's parents.

They are very kind people, Jocelyn's father not all that chatty but will make a few remarks here and then, her mother, on the other hand, seems to love to talk and shares all her stories with me about their life here. Every word that comes out of her mouth is filled with a sense of nostalgia, I can feel it.

    She reminds me of my grandmother who passed away just last year. I loved my grandmother dearly and would come to her whenever something was troubling me. She was someone I looked up to. Someone I admired.

    I sneak a glance at christian and can see the love and adoration he has for the woman. He has a soft smile on his face and listens intently as she speaks even though I'm sure he's probably heard the stories 100 times before. She has his undivided attention. Well, that was before he caught me staring at him.

And just like that, the pulling feeling is back again, only getting stronger the longer he gazes at me with those alluring eyes.

    He probably affects all girls this way and is just used to it. What am I saying, of course he affects them. They probably all lust after him the way I'm  lusting over him right now.

    I know it's forbidden for me to have these thoughts about my stepbrother but I just can't help it.

    I can still hear his grandmother talking in the background so I painfully break my gaze from Christian to give her my full attention again.

I can still feel his eyes boring into the side of my head. I resist the urge to connect my gaze with his once more.

As I'm taking a sip of my water, I almost choke when I feel his hand burning on my thigh. Im still wearing my ripped black skinny jeans, the ones I wore when I rode in the car.

    I stop breathing when he starts moving his hand, up and down my thigh but after a while he gets bored of this and does something else that has my center throbbing with need again in seconds.

He stick three fingers inside of one of the many rips and starts caressing my bare thigh. He sticks his hand further into the rip, probably stretching and ripping it some more.

    At this point, I could care less.

    I try very hard to ignore the fingers rubbing my skin as I desperately make myself appear like I'm listening to what his grandmother is saying. Thank god there is a table cloth covering his hand cause I'm sure we would have gotten caught if there wasn't one.

    Oh my god. His whole hand is inside that hole, grasping my inner thigh hard. I push and shove at his arm but he's like a statue. I give up after a minute of this and just let him have at it.

    Ugh god the feel of his rough hand on my bare thigh, pulling it as if he's trying to make it come to him. It's like he's marking his terriotiry. Telling me subconsciously I'm his to do with as he pleases.

    I sneak another glance at him and he seems totally serene. Innocent even. Like his hand isn't wandering to parts of my body it shouldn't. I'm gripping my fork so hard my knuckles are turning white. Thankfully nobody notices this.

Eventually dinner finishes and as people finally get up, he removes his hand. I find myself missing his hand there. Wait? What? Stop it. He's gonna be your stepbrother. You CANNOT have naughty thoughts about him.

    Well, I tell my conscience, it's kinda hard to do that WHEN HE WONT KEEP HIS HANDS OFF ME!

    He better stop toying with me like this. We cannot be doing this. It's simply not right. If my Dad or his Mom ever found out, they would be disgusted with us. Probably disown us.

    I look at his face and his expression darkens substantially. He looks like he wants to devour me. Shit. Im trying to be angry with him but it's so hard when he looks at me like that.

    I'm sure my expression mirrors his now. We both get up from the table, still staring at eachother. I break away first, not wanting to arouse suspicion.

    I'm about to start cleaning my place setting when Christian whispers huskily into my ear.

"We have butlers and maids, you don't have to clean up after yourself here". Even though his words we're completely innocent, I still shuttered when I heard them.

    I'm not really used to people cleaning up after me. I was raised differently and I like doing things myself. What can I say, I'm stubborn.

    Ignoring his words, I'm about to pick up my plate again when I chance a look at my Dad's brown eyes. He gives a subtle shake of his head. It was him who instilled in me to always clean up after myself so if he's telling me not to do it, I won't.

I leave the dining room, not chancing a look back at Christian, afraid of what feelings his look could conjure up inside me again. Jocelyn stops me in the hallway before I get to far.

"Here's two advil sweetie, I noticed again at dinner that you didn't look so hot. I hope you feel better". She says with a warm smile. She kisses me goodnight. "If you get hungry or thirsty, go to the kitchen, it's the door next to the dining room". I thank her and start walking away when my Dad calls for me. I turn around and walk towards him and he pulls me into a hug.

"Goodnight sweetheart, I hope you like your new home here. I want you to be happy, you know that right?" My Dad sounds so loving right now I can't help but pull him into the hug tighter and give him a kiss on the cheek.

"Of course Dad, I love it here already. And don't worry about me Dad, wherever you are, I'm happy. I love you Daddy." He kisses me on both cheeks and I can feel a tear slip out of his eye onto my cheek.

"I love you too princess, goodnight." With one last squeeze, I bid him goodnight and venture off to my room.