My Sister’s Boyfriend: A Forbidden Romance Read online

  2

  Catherine

  Light pours in through the crack of the window, and the warm sun kisses my face. As I open my eyes, I see Hunter’s face, with its chiseled features and strong jaw. Those deep blue irises seem to darken as he looks at me, and one large hand trails down my cheek …

  Then I sit up, shaking the sleep from my head. That dream seemed so real. He was here, touching, kissing, and nibbling on body parts. A small sob escapes my lips as I realize that it was just a fantasy. I wanted to wake up with him beside me, his strong arm curled around my curves, holding me close to his broad form.

  Unfortunately, even if my mind knew it was a dream, my body hadn’t quite gotten the message. Pulling up the covers I noticed that my curves are flushed, and my panties are wet and tucked in the bottom of the sheets. Drat. Again.

  A rap on my door startles me.

  “Don’t you have class this morning? Shouldn’t you get a move on it?” Angela sings through the wood. That smarmy tone tells me that something’s up. Most likely, Hunter’s coming over again for more sexy time. My cheeks flared. Oh god, no. I can’t be here when he arrives because it would be too embarrassing. Somehow, he’d know that I’d been dreaming of him.

  “Tick tock, little sis,” Angela says with a giggle as I tumble out of bed. The sheet wrapped around my foot, holding it prisoner and causing me to fall onto the floor. I landed hard on my face as I fought for my freedom.

  “Yeah, yeah,” I grumbled, scrubbing my cheek of the ache. All my school stuff was on the floor in one big jumbled mess, but it didn’t matter. With my head spinning and heart thumping, I didn’t have time to remember what classes I had. I piled everything into my bag and flung it onto my desk chair. My sister was right, the clock was ticking and if I didn’t hurry, I would be late. Even worse, I’d see Hunter as he arrived for Round 2.

  Scrambling to the closet, I grabbed the first thing my fingers touched and threw it on. There was no time left to check the cuteness factor because I had to be out the door and fast. Without a second glance, I grabbed my bag and pulled open the bedroom door.

  I half expected Angela to be sitting pretty on the couch, doing her nails and laughing me. Luckily, she wasn’t there.

  Great. Maybe she’s already in her bedroom with Hunter and the banging and squealing is going to start any second again. I couldn’t deal. I grabbed my keys hanging from the front door hook.

  “See ya, Ang,” I said as left the apartment, slamming the door behind me. I practically ran down the hall, trying to get away from the upcoming chorus of moans and groans.

  But then, a sinking feeling came over me, and I paused at the elevator. I was forgetting something. No, it wasn’t forgetfulness. It was just the overwhelming realization that my life sucked, and that it would continue to suck until something changed. I resolved, then and there, that I was going to move out of this apartment. I wasn’t going to wait for Angela to graduate. I didn’t need to put up with a raucous cacophony all the time. I’m a grown woman, and I deserve to have a calm, serene place to live without my sister banging her boyfriend every other night.

  “Fuck that,” I grumble, tugging the backpack further up my shoulder as the ding of the elevator chimes. I don’t usually swear, but the curse words definitely made me feel better.

  I step into the small box and press the lobby button. As the doors close, so do my eyes.

  “Please don’t let it be a bad day. Please,” I beg as the doors open. Bright sunlight greets me as I make my way through the lobby and to the front door of our apartment complex. Living off campus has its benefits, but unfortunately, our apartment is about 30 minutes away from Mesa. Why my sister chose this place, I have no idea.

  Scanning right and left, I darted across the street and got in line for the bus. A light vibration jiggled my bag. Pulling the strap off my shoulder, I unzipped the first pocket. A smile played at the corner of my lips as I looked at the text message.

  “Meet me at the front steps.”

  Sighing, I slipped the phone back into my pocket. The message was from my bestie Corinne, and of course, she’ll have a load of gossip to share. Corinne is just like that. We’ve been best friends since meeting freshman year, and she’s always got her nose in everything.

  I don’t want to tell her about Angela though. Corinne is steadfastly on my side, but just like everyone at Mesa, she regards Angela with a bit of awe.

  “How much time does Angela spend getting ready in the mornings?” Corinne has asked while brushing her own blonde hair back. “Does she use any special products?”

  Or, “Where does Angela like to hang out? Where does she buy her clothes? Does she shop on-line, or does she go into the store to try everything on?”

  Just like everyone at school, Corinne is a bit infatuated with my glamorous, beautiful sister. Even when I tell her about Angela’s cellulite, or the not-so-nice parts of her personality, Corinne just brushes it off.

  “Oh, everyone has cellulite,” she giggles. “I have some on my chin, see?”

  Of course, my best friend doesn’t have cellulite on her chin. Corinne is tall, willowy, and very beautiful. But somehow, we’ve managed to stay friends all these years, and our friendship is real. I don’t know what I’d do without her.

  The bus pulls up to the sidewalk with a hiss and I snap out of my reverie. Slowly, the other passengers board, but when I get onto the bus, everyone seemed to turn to glare at me. I can already tell this is going to be an awful day.

  Self-consciously, I slip into the first seat I can, hoping to disappear. Normally, I sit in the back, but that isn’t going to happen today. I want their eyes off me, and as quickly as possible.

  With my heart pounding and hands sweaty, I sit still in my seat until the bus starts moving. As the scenery rolls by, I notice the woman seated across the aisle staring at me with wide eyes. She looks really confused and cocks her head at me curiously. Tucking my hair behind my ear, I try to ignore her and stare out the window, wishing the bus could move just a bit faster.

  Twenty-three agonizing minutes later, I find myself in front of the campus library. Turning around, I scan the area. Boys toss a football on the lawn as pretty girls lounge around in the shade of the mesquite trees. Every so often, a student passing by stops and stares at me with the most peculiar look. What the hell? This is like being in that nightmare where you show up at school, only to realize that everyone’s laughing at you because you’re naked.

  “There you are,” Corinne says as she greets me on the front steps. “How are you, Catherine?” Then, she stops dead in her tracks and gasps. There’s no hiding her expression because it’s one of horror and pity.

  “What?” I ask, looking down. My clothes seem okay, if a little wrinkled. “What’s wrong?”

  “Come with me and keep your head down,” Corrie hisses as she pulls off her jacket and covers my head with it. “Mind telling me what you did last night?” she asks as she helps me into the library building. The muffled murmurs and whispers don’t help as we hustle towards the bathroom in back.

  “What? I didn’t do anything special. Why, what is it?” I ask as we push through the bathroom doors. Corinne peels her jacket off me and leads me to the mirror. But before I can get a glimpse of my reflection, she spins me away.

  “Don’t,” she warns. “Let me clean you up.”

  I stare at her, perplexed.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Trust me, you don’t want to know,” Corinne says as she pulls several paper towels out of the dispenser and flips on the faucet.

  “Corinne,” I grumbled, twisting my head in exasperation. “It can’t be that bad …”

  But then, my mouth dropped open when I saw my reflection because my bangs were standing straight up off my forehead. The look wasn’t cute. My bangs were completely vertical, and looked like they’d been slimed in some kind of disgusting, yellowish gunk.

  I gasped and immediately tried to fix it, but the strands were glued together and
stiff like a dried-out paintbrush.

  “See?” asked Corinne, handing me a wet paper towel. “Is that glue?”

  I shook my head, my cheeks flaming.

  “Um, no. Yes, it’s glue,” I continued quickly. “I must have fallen asleep with my glue stick nearby, and it got in my hair. You know how my room’s so messy and I just leave things lying around all the time.”

  Corinne nodded sympathetically.

  “Girl, clearly, you didn’t have time to look in the mirror before you left this morning.”

  I futilely wipe at the sticky bangs, grimacing as I tug at my hair.

  “No,” is my grim reply. “Not at all.”

  Unfortunately, the white stuff in my hair isn’t glue, and I knew it. It had a slightly pungent, sweet scent that I recognized all too well. This was my pussy moisture. I’d dreamed of Hunter so much in my sleep that I’d orgasmed onto my hand. Then, later in the night, I must have brushed my palm through my bangs, leaving trails of honey stuck in my strands. Thus, the horrific hairstyle this morning.

  But no one had to know about the real source of this so-called “glue.”

  “Um yeah,” I dissembled. “It’s glue stick. I just got that new type of glue stick from the student store, and it’s super strong. What is it called again? Magic Glue?”

  Corinne merely hands me another soaked paper towel, her eyes sympathetic.

  “Whatever it is, it’s like concrete,” she remarks. “That shit is not coming out.”

  I squinted at myself in the mirror again, desperately trying to wipe away the dried pussy juice. Finally, I get enough of it out so that my bangs flop over my forehead once again. They form a wet, messy fringe, but it’s better than looking like Cameron Diaz in There’s Something About Mary.

  “Well, at least Marshall didn’t see you like that,” Corinne says sympathetically while swinging her book bag over one shoulder. “Now that would have been embarrassing.”

  I just roll my eyes and toss my used towels into the trash. Filling my hands up with water, I splash cool liquid over my face while trying not to think about just how many people saw me with my hair sticking straight up.

  Then I inhale deeply.

  “Well, it doesn’t matter because I can honestly say that I won’t be seeing Marshall again. I went out with him a couple nights ago, and it was bad.”

  Corinne clucks.

  “You can’t be too hard on the boy. Maybe he was nervous or something. Lots of people get jitters when they go on dates.”

  I shake my head.

  “It’s not that, Corrie. Look at me,” I say, pressing my lips into a tight line. “You and I both know I could eat two of him and still be hungry. That boy is scrawny, and he’s so small that he would get lost in my layers. I would literally swallow him up with my flesh.”

  “Oh my god, you’re so gross!” Corrie giggles. “You’re so over the top, Catherine.”

  But I’m not done yet.

  “Not to mention, the boy wears diapers.”

  “No!” Corinne gasped cupping her hands to her mouth as her eyes bugged out. “Are you sure?”

  “Oh yeah. I’m sure.”

  “How do you know?” my best friend asks me.

  “Trust me, I know,” I said. “We went out last week, and Marshall leaned over. He’s not exactly ‘in-shape’ so I wasn’t expecting a carved back and sculpted thighs. But I did not expect to see adult diapers peeking out from his waistband. At first, I couldn’t believe my eyes, but trust me, they were there. It wasn’t like, ‘Whoops, what is that?’ It was, ‘Hello world, this is what I am.’” I shook my head and rolled my eyes at the memory.

  “Does he know you saw them?” Corrie asks, still giggling. “Oh my god!”

  I sigh.

  “I don’t know. His back was turned. He went to pick up a coaster that fell on the ground, his shirt went up, and there they were. I half expected to see crack,” I said, fanning my face. “But nope. It was a diaper.”

  “No way!” Corinne’s laugh bounced off the bathroom walls.

  “Yep. That’s when I decided it was time to go.”

  “So you just walked out?” she asks.

  I shake my head.

  “Of course not, I finished my drink and made some lame excuse about studying. Then, I grabbed a taxi and went home. I’m a nice person, Corrie. I wouldn’t call attention to something that’s obviously totally embarrassing. Besides, look what happened to me this morning! It would be the pot calling the kettle black.”

  “Speaking of which, your bangs look almost normal now,” Corinne said, smiling. “We better get to class.”

  “I guess I have to face the piper eventually,” I say, sucking in a deep breath.

  “Well, I’m sorry your date with Marshall was so awful,” Corinne says, holding the door for me. “It would have been nice to be able to double date sometime.”

  “Maybe,” I reply ruefully, handing Corinne her jacket back. The pale blue denim reminds me of a pair of jeans Hunter wears sometimes. It’s not that ugly acid wash that a lot of guys are into. Instead, it’s a softer tone that looks comfortable and worn as it hugs his ass just so.

  God, why do I have to think of Hunter’s ass even now? I was truly pathetic. Yet, the image of that blue denim hanging loosely off his hips burned into my corneas, and I sigh again.

  “You okay?” Corinne asks as we exited the restroom.

  I glanced at my friend. She waved at some people she knew, her long blonde hair fluttering in the wind. It was so easy for Corrie, and she didn’t even realize it. Corinne was just like Angela, only nicer. But still, sometimes the differences between us made me jealous.

  Without waiting for an answer, Corinne turns to me with a smile.

  “Hey, I’m going to catch up with you later if that’s cool,” she says, her eyes slipping to a handsome guy to our right. He grinned back at her, and she seemed to perk up. Nodding, I smiled wanly.

  “Sure thing,” I said. After all, some of us live in the real world, and some of us are stuck in fantasy land. Unfortunately for me, Hunter Brody is only a fantasy, but that’s what I have to content myself with.

  3

  Hunter

  The cushions of the couch moan as I shift my weight for the thirteenth time in the last half hour. Why I let Angela get away with the things she does is beyond me. I should have just told her “no” and been done with it. We broke up after all, so why am I still such a wuss?

  But nothing is ever that simple when it comes to Angela Lauder. Instead, I found myself saying, “Sure, I’ll come over. What time?”

  So here I am, waiting in her apartment. I’m here to pick up my stuff, and to give her back some of her stuff. I want this relationship to be over and done with, but relationships can be difficult to unwind sometimes. That woman left so many random things at my place that it filled two boxes, which I put in her room. There were trinkets, multiple toothbrushes, a couple of outfits, and even her retainer. Yes, Angela Lauder wears a retainer at night. That’s why her smile is so perfect.

  I should leave, but instead, here I am like an idiot, sitting in Angela’s apartment with nothing to do. I could leave her key on the table and just lock the door behind me, but I’m too much of a nice guy. I want to put it in her hands so that she doesn’t claim that “it got lost” and find some excuse to see me.

  I want to be free of Angela Lauder.

  Suddenly, a sound from the back of the apartment startles me from my trance. Is someone home? I thought I was alone, but then again, I didn’t check to see. I hear some bumps and groans, and get up with a worried look on my face. Holy shit. It sounds like someone’s hurt.

  Quickly, I stride down the hallway to where the bedrooms are. Angela’s door is shut tight. She told me she’d be at cheerleading practice, so I know she’s not home. Her sister Catherine lives across the hall from her, and her door is slightly ajar.

  I’ve never really talked to Catherine. Nothing more than the occasional “Hello” or “Nice to see you,”
but that’s all. I’ve noticed her though because the brunette is beautiful in a way that makes my mouth water. She’s the opposite of her sister: whereas Angela is all skin and bones, Catherine is soft flesh and generous curves. I’ve even caught myself accidentally fantasizing about Catherine when I’m literally in bed with Angela. It’s taboo and so fucking forbidden, but that’s why I like it.

  The moans start up again, and I wonder what’s going on. Slowly, I push the door to Catherine’s bedroom open a crack, and the sight that greets me makes me hard. It’s Catherine, but not in one of the demure outfits I’m used to seeing her wear. Instead, she’s buck naked and kneeling on the mattress while facing me. Her eyes are closed and her face is a rictus of ecstasy. Her large breasts bounce as she works something in and around her pussy.

  My gaze lowers, and I see that it’s a small vibrator. Not one of those huge ones that will take your v-card for you. Instead, Catherine’s using a small rabbit that she runs in circles around her engorged clit before slipping the knob an inch or two inside her velvet pussy. It comes out slick and wet, and she moans again, enjoying the penetration.

  Then, Catherine does something that I’ve only seen in porn before. She’s got huge, generous breasts, and with one hand, she lifts one to her face before leaning forward and licking the tip with her tongue. Then, she latches onto her own nipple and suckles deeply, even as her pussy spasms with delight from the stimulation. Fuck! How did the girl get so dirty? She’s got the face of an angel, but the body and the moves of a professional porn star.

  I stand there, frozen in place. My rod is already dripping, and I desperately need to be in her. But this is wrong. Maybe Angela and I are already broken up, but still. That doesn’t mean that I should be boning her younger sister just days after the break-up happened.