The Wrong Sister (30 page)

His hand again tangled with her hair as he pulled her head back and his lips trailed over her throat in a wet path. He kept her head pulled back. He liked her hair. He liked touching it and wrapping it around his hands. He liked the control it gave him to her flesh. Her heart skipped a beat when his mouth sucked on hers. There was so much she wanted to do. So many different ways. They needed hours… days… years. She whimpered softly at the pangs of desire. For this. Now. For them. Forever? Maybe. Maybe that’s what she wanted when she felt his hands on her, filling her up in the most complete way another person could.

Finally, he lifted her up and again, nearly impaled her on him. He abraded her vaginal walls with enough pressure and heat to send her spiraling into an orgasm. She kept pulsating and tightening around him for many long moments. He finally uttered a deep, guttural cry from his throat and pinned her to the door, nearly spearing her with his deep, penetrating thrust.

He dropped his face to the nook in her shoulder. She could feel his chest going up and down as if he just finished running a marathon. His arms were still around her and his caress in her hair went from controlling and harsh to soft and gentle. He ran the long strands through his fingertips. Her heart simply rose up into her tonsils when he cupped her face in his big hands and tilted his head down to kiss her lips in a soft, long, lingering kiss. Soft, gentle, beautiful and so the opposite of the last few minutes. From heat to tenderness. From knock-your-teeth-out-rough sex to the gentle, caring, soft, tender persuasion.

He trailed kisses down the side of her face and on her hairline, burying his face into her long, red hair. Hair she always hated. It made her self-conscious. She often wished for long, platinum hair, although she never wanted it enough to bleach hers that shade. But the way Donny tangled his hands in it, and caressed it as though it represented the most treasured object of his life, suddenly made her grateful for it.

His lips were hovering, once again, above her ear. “I love you,” he whispered. She was leaning into the door, barely able to stand from the mind-blowing orgy of feelings he just educed from her. It was almost like a tidal wave, or a tsunami, of emotions and needs while also possessing a kind of reverence. Like in the way his fingertips glided over her skin and hair as he covered her in small, soft, nonsexual kisses. Kisses that spoke of caring, love, friendship and desire. She closed her eyes at hearing his words and her hands went limp around his neck.

She started to cry. She didn’t want him to say that. She also didn’t want him
not
to say it. He pulled her completely into his arms and pushed her face into the crook of his neck as he cupped the back of her head. “Shh. No more tears. No more crying. Not over us.”

“We can’t—”

He nodded his head. She could feel the up and down motion against the side of her face. “I know we can’t.” He paused before adding, “But I do. I have for awhile. I have in ways I never loved anyone before.”

“Even my sister?” The sharp sarcasm was uncalled for. It came out as anger that this was happening, that he said it, and that he’d ever said it to her sister.

“Anyone.”

“I told you: I still love Micah.”

He suddenly lifted her up, although she wasn’t that small of a woman. He planted his hands under her butt to keep her near him. “Neither of us believes that. Not anymore. You might not be in love with me, but I know you feel something for me.”

He opened the door and staggered upstairs. Placing her on the bed, he stood back, his hands on his hips, and just stared at her. She pulled down the t-shirt to cover whatever it could. She wished she were tall and long and lithe. She wished she had a flat stomach. And less cellulite on her thighs. She wished… she didn’t like seeing the flare of heat that sparked in his dark eyes. He lifted the oversized shorts up. “You can wear these every day for the rest of your life, but it won’t make me desire you any less. You can never wear makeup again. You can get fat. You can cut your hair off, or let it go gray. I don’t care. I will want you, no matter what you do. You can’t talk me out of it anymore. You can’t undo this. And you can’t try to make me see you as my sweet sister-in-law ever again. You’re mine now, Tracy. I have no idea how we’re going to make it work, I’m just telling you I intend to do everything I can to make it work.”

She was spared from having to answer him when he came to the bed and discarded his preppy polo shirt. He leaned over her, pinning her on the bed. She was again lost in a matter of minutes of making out. “You’re different than I expected.”

“How so?” he asked, pulling their lips apart long enough to speak.

“You’re… domineering. Kind of controlling. Kind of the complete opposite that you appear in life.”

“Yeah?” he replied, his tongue gliding down her throat. She caught the small smirk of arrogance that flittered over his mouth. “Do you want me to stop? Be nicer? More ordinary?”

She leaned her head back for her answer, offering her neck to him. “Never,” she said breathlessly. He sucked on her neck and collarbone before moving down to her breasts.

“You’re different too. You’re uninhibited. Not what I expected.”

“Not ordinary?”

He paused, but looked up over her exposed breasts, neck and face until he smiled at her. “You haven’t been ordinary to me since about the day Micah left. Since the day a tiny crack in our previous, formal relationship started. From that day, when I finally actually saw the real you.”

“This is all just so bad.”

“Not as bad as you think.”

“How do you figure? You’re married to my sister.”

“I just think you’ll find it really isn’t that bad. She doesn’t love me. She just… needs me. She won’t be heartbroken.”

She shuddered. She hated to say Vickie’s name. Donny touched her skin and her entire body broke out into goose bumps at his unexpected contact.

“We can’t tell anyone.”

He leaned away and she nearly cried for him to come back. “Secret? What? Do you like the thrill of secrecy? I think we would be much better off if we just got this out in the open. Deal with it now and move on.”

Her heart shriveled in panic at his proposal. “No. I mean it. We cannot tell anyone. How could I tell my daughters that I’m… doing this with their uncle? It’ll ruin them for life. Forever. Scar their senses and destroy their image of me—”

“You know, your daughters picturing you having sex with anyone, even Micah, would do the same thing, right? Calm down, Tracy. I’m sorry, but you’re divorced. You’re bound to move on and find someone new. You’re bound to have sex again. Didn’t you already with Jim? I didn’t see any repercussion destroying your kids with him.”

“Yes, but he’s not a family member!”

“You and your family didn’t even know me until three years ago. It’s not like I’m your first cousin or something. I’m the soon-to-be-divorced-from-your-sister ex brother-in-law. If we hadn’t done this, in a few years time, you wouldn’t even know or care where I was. I’d have faded into the horizon like all the rest of Vickie’s exes.”

“Divorce?” Did her heart melt with gladness to hear him say that? Or freeze in horror?

“I was divorcing her before this happened. Before we happened. I was divorcing her last year, but stayed simply out of respect for my daughter. We’re done. Over. Moved on. You have to know that.”

“Yes, but she doesn’t.”

He sighed and flipped over, wrapping her in his arms in a tight squeeze. “We decided last spring.”

“What?” She struggled against him in order to sit up. “You’re telling me this now? How could you not tell me sooner? I’m dying here and you have a damn revelation and you don’t share it with me?”

His chest rumbled as he chuckled. “It hasn’t been even twenty-four hours since you first planted yourself on top of me. But okay, I waited, as you claim, because I promised her I would. It’s only to protect your parents awhile longer from her next actions. You know how she is about it. She made me promise I wouldn’t tell. I was trying to give her that. But then, you attacked me last night, and I think the point is kind of moot now. So you see? I don’t think any of this is as catastrophic as you do.”

“She’s still my little sister,” she whispered. When she said, “little sister,” she sounded almost ashamed to be talking about her.

“Yes, she is. I can’t undo that. Or that she’s Julia’s mother. You’re going to have to learn to deal with it. Or at least, I hope you will. I don’t want to give this up. It’s everything I think I’ve been searching for. You’re all of it, Tracy. This isn’t sex gone wrong. This isn’t bad. This is love. That’s what I see. I’m sorry if you don’t agree. But I hope you’ll grow to eventually agree.”

She shifted so she was closer to him. His words lulled her into a soft place of love and care. It had been so long since she felt safe and cared for. Or wild and free. How could she feel all those things? Lying there on the bed, in middle of the day, naked and turned on, with a big, naked and turned on man, who spoke his thoughts of love was hard to ever regret. Tracy felt young and loved and beautiful again. Special again. She closed her eyes as his voice wafted over her.

“What about Julia?”

“Vickie and I agreed she could come and go at her own discretion. She can’t do this like us. I think we both saw that right off. She can’t stick to this, day in, and day out. Not like you do with your children. One of the reasons I fell so deeply in love with you was after seeing your devotion to the everyday duties of raising children. So the t-shirt, the one you hoped to turn me off with, did just the opposite.”

Her laugh was inappropriate. It popped out of her mouth even though they were supposed to finally be discussing more important things. At last... after all the innuendos, and all the wrongs, they were discussing it for real.

“So you’re just going to let her flit in and out? Like always? Like usual? When the mood strikes her, she can come play Disneyland Mommy? Or just disappear for weeks at a time?”

“Yeah. Pretty much. Do you see any other choice? She can’t do it. But she
is
Julia’s mother. So as long as Julia can at least know her and try to understand her, maybe it will minimize the ultimate damage done to her. Don’t you think I know what I’ve done to my daughter?
I know
, Tracy. You don’t have to relive it for me. I know what kind of mess I brought my kid into. But she’s here; and I wouldn’t undo it for anything. So if I have to put up with my ex-wife coming and going out of nowhere… well, I can, as long as it reduces the damage to Julia.”

“And where did you ever think this could fit into that? Vickie will never accept that, as she should not. I would not. Turn the tables: what if Tony slept with her?”

He laughed. “Tony is more likely to murder her first. I think we both know the politics around all this. It isn’t easy. For any of us. I get that. But if we’re not going to deal with all this, why did you come in here last night? What were your true intentions?”

“Because…” She wanted to blurt out she was horny. She was unhappy. She was lonely. He was there. He was easy. He was hot. But her true answer was none of those. She came in there because some emotional pull towards him seemed to physically draw her to his presence. Because he made her feel better than she had in a long time. Because she was lonely, and he made her forget her solitude. He was her best friend. He was someone she wanted to look at every single day. He was someone she wanted to talk to, listen to, and make love to.

But the thought of starting a new relationship with anyone scared her. She felt all of these things before and then, twelve years later, she was a decimated mess in an empty bed.

And Micah wasn’t even married to her sister.

He turned so they were face to face, body to body. His hands came up to her back and starting kneading it. The anxiety started to waffle away. His hands pressed as if he knew exactly where her tension lay, and he drew the stress into his fingertips before releasing it from her skin. She groaned at how good it felt. How long had it been since she felt connected to another human? Or cherished? Or loved?

“I can’t talk about it yet.”

He smiled as he kissed her face. “Take all the time you need to get comfortable with it.”

“You mean, in secret, right?”

“Yes. If that’s what it takes for you. But I’m not listening to how wrong or bad it is anymore. I have enough shit in my life to feel bad about. Julia growing up motherless. Losing most of my money. Still being in debt up to my damn eyeballs, and that’s before your sister demolishes me in court.”

“Oh my God. This could totally give her complete dominance over you. You can’t go to court saying you’re sleeping with her sister. She’ll take everything you’ve got.”

He shrugged his big shoulders and kneaded harder into her, yet again, tense muscles. “I’m not going to hide it for that reason. She doesn’t have much to stand on with the alcoholism and history of neglect for her daughter.”

“But…”

“But nothing. Between you and me, we are not wrong, or bad, or committing sins. We are just in love, Tracy. Unless you try to tell me you did this, despite every moral you hold so dear and clearly cherish, just for a quick lay? A good time? I don’t, not for a second, believe you even though you try and tell me that. I knew the moment you got into my bed that you were in love with me. You wouldn’t risk that unless it was for a really strong reason. A reason like: you being in love with me as much as I am with you. Am I wrong?”