Falling For My Hockey Stepbrother

That's All I Have

JACKSON

I didn't know if I should be irritated or concerned about how aware I’ve become of her.

I was ALWAYS aware of her.

Was it at school, where the wind always finds a way to carry her scent to me as if saying, “Here. You can’t have her.”

Or was it at the cafe where I sat by the window, pretending to work on my laptop while I stole glances at her?

Or at the house, where I wanted to be out there as soon as possible, else I might find an excuse to be alone with her, when she clearly doesn't want that?

The time and the place don't matter: I was always aware of Siri.

She had become the bane of my existence, and I don't even know how that happened.

And now she was calling her a plaything? A f*****g plaything? That itched my brain the wrong way, and I didn't know when I had her cornered, her back to that fridge, those honey-brown eyes that I've had several dirty thoughts about blinking up at me.

Her scent was everywhere, invading my senses. I breathed in that sweet scent of coconut and honey until it clouded my head. The wind won't tease me with it any longer.

“C-consume you?” she stammered, her cheeks slightly red, just like they were that night.

Things might not have gone the way I wanted that night, and I might have lost control for a second there, but I couldn't stop thinking about everything about that night. The intensity of it, the heat clouding the air and making her eyes drop in a way that made me want to rip her clothes apart and devour her whole.

Everything about that night has haunted me for weeks, and I had stroked my c**k to the image playing over and over again in my head.

And now I have another scene to visualize while I do that. This scene right here. It was arousing. I’ve come to know that everything with Siri was arousing, even the way she breathes.

God, I've lost it. I’ve totally lost it.

“Yes, Siri,” I whispered, my voice softening even when I didn't want it to. “Consume me.”

I could tell she was waiting for me to say more. Her body was vibrating with anticipation of my next words, but I would let her suffer the same way I've been suffering. I will be cruel the same way she was to me, even though that was nothing more I wanted to do than to close this space between our bodies, and grind myself on her soft stomach. Feel her. Touch her. Breathe her in, and just–

“f**k,” I cursed harshly as I pulled away from her, turning my back to her, and running my hand through my hair, breathing through my mouth.

This was torture. Sweet, cruel torture. How long will this keep up? How long will I keep touching myself to the thought of her? What can I say or do to make her feel the intensity of my want and not use that f*****g word again?

What on bloody earth am I supposed to do before I go f*****g insane?!

When she remained silent, I turned my head over my shoulder to see she was staring at my back, blinking slowly like she was in some kind of trance.

“Siri?” I called out softly, my eyebrows furrowed.

She looked down at her feet. “Y-you can’t just say something like that and pull away, Jackson.”

Christ, I loved it when she was this way: bashful, flustered, with colors creeping into her cheeks.

“You’re going red, darling,” I said softly, my lips lifted in a smile. I was grateful she couldn't see it.

The color deepened. “No, I'm not.”

“No? Could’ve fooled me. And to answer your question: yes, I can.”

She scoffed as she rolled her eyes. “And he’s back to being a prick.”

I ignored that. “You’re not going to ask me why?”

She raised her eyes to mine. “Why?”

“Because you will call it a joke. Or bullshit. Or spit some nonsense in my face.”

She lowered her eyes in shame. “Someone’s bitter.”

I scoffed and looked away.

We stood there in silence until she whispered in a small voice, “Tell me a little?”

My chest tightened, and I slowly returned my gaze to her. Her eyes were low, her hands busy picking at the threads in her sweater. She wanted to know. She was desperate to.

She looked like she needed to hear those words to loosen something that had been painfully curled inside her. She looked like she needed the validation even though she might not believe it.

Who did this to her? I wanted to find the arsehole that made her feel like she could never be the subject of want or desire. She had everything that could make a man with a good head on his shoulders lose his mind. I know I was already losing mine, and the worst–and best–part was I didn't want to find it.

“Say please,” I whispered, and she scoffed softly. Not her usual harsh or sarcastic laugh, but a laugh that made her raise her eyes and turn her cheeks even redder.

“Please, Jackson.”

I swallowed. Well, that had a different effect on me than I thought.

Her eyes stayed on mine, and she waited. I let her wait.

And then, “You have filled my days, Siri.” Her breath hitched. “You are all I think of even when I try not to.”

“I’ve met a few people who think about me like that too, and it’s in ways to murder me and bury my body in the woods,” she tried to push it aside as a joke, but my gaze remained serious.

Her eyes dropped. Her fingers went back to picking the thread.

“This can’t work, Jackson,” she whispered.

My body turned before I could stop it, and I went back to her, my body so close to hers. She took her time, but eventually her eyes lifted to meet mine.

“Tell me why,” I pleaded softly.

“It just… it just can’t, okay?”

“That’s not a reason, Siri.”

“Well, that’s all I have!”

“And it’s not enough.”

“What do you even see in me, Jackson?” she asked, her bottom lip trembling.

I touched her chin softly, my thumb stroking it. “Everything.”

Her eyes turned glassy, doubt shining through it. “You could have anybody you want.”

“And yet, why can’t I have Siri?”

She bit her lip, and my eyes dropped to them. And stayed there.

“Jackson,” she said, a warning in her voice when I leaned in closer.

“Hmm?” I answered without taking my eyes off her lips.

“We can't," she said, but didn't move.

“Yes, we can.”

Slowly, I inched lower to her lips, and when her tongue snaked out to wet them, I decided that f**k taking it slow, but just before I could dive in, the door opened.