Page 12 of Wanting What's Wrong

It wells up in me, unstoppable. The grief and the worry like a caged monster freeing itself. The dam is about to break. But heturns just in time to see me swiping at an errant tear as it escapes from my lashes.

“Woah, woah. What’s wrong, Kitty Kat?”

I swallow it back. Push it down. Lock it up. Throw it away.

“Nothing! How could anything be wrong right now?” I flutter my hands in front of my eyes. “I’m just so happy to be here. I’m just so happy to have you back.”

But he isn’t buying it. He knows me better than anybody.

And he takes a step into me, his eyes penetrating my facade.

I can’t have this conversation. Not now. Not yet. Maybe not ever. Because my god, if he knew how I really feel about him, I’d be too embarrassed to ever look him in the eye again.

I have to get out of here, just for a second. Away from his power. Away from his heat.

“You must be exhausted. Take that shower,” I say, with a sniffle. “Have a nap. I’ll see about making you something that doesn’t come out of a pouch.”

I turn to walk away, eyes on my feet, willing them to move, nearly running toward the door but he moves to block my retreat. He holds me still, with one massive hand on each of my shoulders, then tips my chin up so I can’t look away.

Five

Trent

She smells like a woman should. Sweet and inviting. I used to know what kind of perfume she wears. But it seems different now. Better.

Or maybe I just fucking missed everything about her. Including her scent.

My heartbeat pounds down into my balls, and in my bullet wounds. But fuck it. The doc who told me not to get worked up never saw my sister.

We’re just a few feet from the bed. One quick movement of my hands and I’d have her then two more steps and I’d show her what it means to be mine.

Her curvy waist draws my eyes down. Every inch of her makes me fucking salivate. In the full-length mirror behind her, I see her lush, round ass. Her bottom teetering perfectly inside that little dress.

I catch the groan in my throat because, fuck, her dress haslittle red cherries all over it. Lust screams through every cell in my body, so demanding, I could almost bend her over and take her by force.

She wouldn’t be standing here if she knew I’d spent my whole tour fantasizing about fucking her. Getting my mouth between her legs. Lapping up her sweet juices while I mount her on my face. The feel of her heavy tits in my hands as I pound into her doggy style then turn her around and suck those nipples until they swell and realize what they were made for. I dreamed a thousand dreams of breeding that hot little womb of hers. Spanking that ass.

Jesus. That ass…

“Trent?” she barely whispers.

“Fuck. I’m sorry.” Bullshit. I’m not sorry. Not for any of it. She’s mine. She just doesn’t fucking know it yet. “My mind was somewhere else.”Between your legs. In your mouth.“Fucking jet lag.”

“I asked if you’ll be okay in the shower.”

Christ. Looking at her, I know my desire for her has gone way off center, way into the fringe. All those nights alone, jacking off to her in my bunk. So much cum spilled in her name. I imagined her red ass, ripe from my own hand. Fantasies of my little girl turning into my personal fuck toy whenever I desire. I fucking know she could take it. Take it rough and ready. I know she’d let me lead and hold on for dear life.

Sometimes I wondered, if I ever did get my hands on her, whether I’d be able to control myself and not just fuck right through her. Bathe her soft insides with my hot cream until she’s bound to me forever. Fuck her until my balls run dry, then make her sleep with my dick inside her like a fucking breeding cork, holding every drop inside until it does its job.

But, that’s not all. God, the nights I imagined her bending to me, looking to me, needing me. Like a child needs a father.Taking care of her in ways others might not understand. But it had to be right.

I try to shake off those thoughts. Those fucking filthy, forbidden thoughts. But every time I look at her, they come roaring back like fucking wildfire.

“Trent? Come on now. Don’t keep drifting off on me, please. You’re scaring me.”

She has no fucking idea how hard it is to focus with her sweet-cream cleavage in my face. It’s so fucking distracting and she makes me so fucking hard that I’m just about to tell her to get out of here, leave me in peace, let a grown man jack off before his head explodes, when I realize I can’t get rid of her yet. Because of these fucking bullet holes.

“I just… I need to change the bandages before I take a shower. I can do the two on my chest, but the two on the back I can’t fucking reach.”

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