Page 50 of Till The Sun Dies (Checkmate 2)

11

Laine

Venture Into The Unknown

Istop in Kane and Jess’ kitchen doorway with an odd mixture of jealousy and disgust rolling through my stomach. Across the room, amid giggles and silly squeals, Kane pins Jess to the cabinets and feasts on her neck.

The pinning makes me sick.

It drags me back to dark clubs and puncture holes in my flesh from men that didn’t have permission to touch.

But she giggles. She swats him back.

He’s not hurting her, and she’s not scared. She’s not sad. She’s not powerless.

She’s so in control of her destiny, jealousy is the prevailing feeling that settles in the pit of my stomach.

My big sister controls this giant, and I let a pissant asshole control me.

Joke’s on me.

“Kane!” She slaps him back, but not even a blind man can deny that she’s leaning into it. Or closing her eyes in pleasure. Or pulling him closer. “Kane! Stop.”

He laughs against her neck and slides his hands around to her ass. His teeth crunch down on her flesh until she dissolves into a mess of groans, and when she stops fighting him off, he lifts her until her legs wrap around his hips and a sex filled groan rolls through her chest.

It’s almost like the club, where we were allowed to watch or be watched by others, but this is my sister, and when she moans, it’s not with pain or terror, but pure pleasure.

“Kane, you gotta stop. My sister…”

“Is upstairs. I’m starving for you, Blondie. I need a taste.” With my twin sister in his arms, he turns and comes to a dead stop when our eyes meet. “Fuck.”

“What?” Jess’ head snaps up. “Fuck, what?” She twists in his arms and turns white. “Shit.” She slides down his body and rushes toward me. “Baby, I’m so sorry.”

I don’t mean to be a crybaby. I don’t mean to be an emotional weirdo, but tears fill my eyes anyway. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t watching, like…” I step back. “I wasn’t watching like that. I was just coming down to ask you something.” I turn on my heel to escape. “You guys do whatever you were gonna do, and I’ll make myself scarce.”

“No, wait.” Jess jumps forward and snags my uninjured wrist. “Just hold on a sec.”

“I’m sorry.” My tears spill over, making me look like a fool. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“He wasn’t hurting me, Baby. He wasn’t holding me down like how it looked. We were playing.”

“I know.” I swipe my bandaged wrist over my cheek. “I know.” I look up and meet the tattooed giant’s eyes. “He won’t hurt you. It’s not the same.”

“No.” She steps to the left and draws my attention. “He won’t ever hurt me. We were only playing.”

I hiccup on my tears. I’m such an idiot. “You don’t have to treat me like fragile glass, okay? I know what sex is, and I know what consent is. This is your place, your kitchen. I’m the intruder.”

“We won’t do it again.” Kane steps forward, and though his arm brushes Jess’ shoulder, he doesn’t pull her close. He doesn’t hold her down. “We’ll be more considerate in the future.”

“No.” My eyes won’t stop spilling over. I’ve cried every single day this year, and because of it, I’ve had a headache that just won’t go away. I’m so tired of it. So unbelievably fed up. “Don’t change your life because you have a freeloader in the house.”

“You don’t have to s–”

“Please, for the love of God, don’t change your lives for me. Be normal. Do what you do. Normalcy is what I crave, even if that means I see stuff I shouldn’t. Don’t shelter me; I need to find normal again.”

Kane’s dark eyes shine with something I’m positive borders on pride. “So, if I ask her for a blowjob at the kitchen table…”

“Kane!” Jess slams her fist into his gut.

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