Stepbrother Studs_Zayn Read online

  The more I remembered, the more uncontrollable the feeling became. I caught myself rubbing my own thighs through my yoga pants, almost touching myself between them. I wanted to do it. I thought it might end the thoughts I was having about Zayn, but another part of me knew it would only make them worse. Instead, I put a pillow between my legs and kept my hands above the sheets.

  I woke up the next day to the sound of Dad knocking on my door, reminding me that he and Mom were leaving for Grand Rapids to see our church’s organist. She was in the hospital, recovering from a kidney operation.

  Zayn and I were supposed to have the garage cleaned out by the time they got back. Part of me was nervous about being home alone with Zayn, but I was glad they’d given us a chore that would take the whole day. It would keep us busy for hours and our minds and hands occupied.

  I got up to shower and noticed a sort of wet, squishy feeling between my thighs. My period? I wondered. I went into the bathroom to pee and found that my whole crotch was wet, almost like I’d peed myself. But this substance was thicker, sticky.

  Then, I remembered my dream. It came in bits and pieces, snatches of memory, as I undressed and got under the water. I’d had a sex dream about Zayn. He’d touched me all over. Kissed me everywhere. Everywhere. I flushed at the memory of his face buried between my legs. Jess said, if Zayn would do that to her, she might be okay with waiting until marriage—that’s how good it felt. I didn’t ask her at the time how she knew that.

  In my dream, he’d begged me to put it in my mouth. My mind had no concept of what it would feel like, so it had made something up—a throbbing ache in my throat, something that traveled down my body, straight between my legs. I soaped myself up, catching more snippets, flashes of Zayn on top of me, his eyes gazing into mine as he slid himself inside of me. My body didn’t know what that would feel like either, but I could remember a feeling of fullness, anyway, far more satisifying than I could ever have believed.

  I found my hands lingering on my breasts, rubbing the soap over my nipples. It gave me a shivery sensation and made that throbbing between my legs oh so much worse. I had hoped the water would wash away my impure thoughts, but the heat and soap only seemed to make everything on my body slippery and more sensitive.

  I reached down with soapy hands to wash between my legs, sliding the bar of soap up and down. My hair down there was wiry and honey-blonde. Jess told me I should shave it—said boys liked it that way these days. It was fashionable, she said. I didn’t care about making it fashionable. And her other reason—that it made everything more sensitive when you shaved—was the perfect reason for me not to do it. I didn’t want to be any more sensitive down there.

  But it was incredibly sensitive now.

  I’d never intentionally touched myself before, unless I was washing. It was part of the abstinence contract. Masturbation was a sin. But when the edge of the soap brushed my clitoris—I knew what it was, and where it was, and how it all worked, from health class, and I knew all the naughty words, too, from Jess—I couldn’t help it. I dropped the bar of soap and circled that little button with my finger, shuddering and letting out a low moan.

  I couldn’t think of anything but Zayn. The way he’d kissed me and caressed my breasts. The Zayn from my dream, his mouth—his mouth!—between my legs. Would it feel like this, rubbing up and down, back and forth? And then, seeing him poised over me, feeling him sliding into me. Oh God. I shivered, the fingers of my other hand creeping lower, probing the place where he would enter me. Would it feel like this, one finger, two, sliding in and out?

  I had to stop the thoughts racing through my head. I had to. Instinctively, I knew this would do it, this rubbing and writhing between my legs. It didn’t take long before I was crying out, shuddering all over. My legs trembled and I had to lean on the back wall of the shower to keep from falling over. It was the first time I’d ever had a climax when I was awake—on purpose.

  My face reddened with shame. I could feel more of my juices mixing with the soap and water on my thighs. Slowly, eventually, my body and my mind calmed down enough for me to finish my shower.

  Once I got out, I was amazed how good I felt. It had worked. The Lord might punish me by not letting me forget my impure thoughts and what I’d done in the shower, but I felt refreshed and ready to tackle the garage when I went downstairs.

  Zayn had already finished breakfast and was walking out to the garage as I poured a bowl of cereal. I saw him out the kitchen window. Was he avoiding me? I knew it was going to be an awkward conversation, but I also knew we’d get through it.

  I finished my cereal and went out to the garage. Mom and Dad had already left for the hour-long trip to Grand Rapids. Zayn was digging through the first of many storage bins we had stacked in the garage. Dad had finally declared that having a garage full of so much stuff that we couldn’t park a car in it was ridiculous. He was right, but now it was up to us to clear enough space so they could park the car there when they got back later.

  “Hey,” I said as I moved to another storage bin on the other side of the garage.

  “Hey,” he said, not looking at me.

  “Where are we supposed to put all this stuff?”

  “Dad said we should throw away anything broken or worn out. He wants all the old clothes to go to Goodwill. I started a bag for that. All the books go to the drop box on Market Street.”

  I nodded. “Find anything interesting yet?”

  “Some of my old baseball trophies.” He held up the one he’d earned in seventh grade. “I’m not sure if I want to keep these or not.”

  “Why did you kiss me?” I bit my lip, but the words were out before I even had a chance to hold them back.

  He froze, his hands still in the bin and stood there for a couple moments before he finally turned to face me.

  “Look, I’m sorry about that,” he said. His cheeks were red. “It was a stupid thing to do. Please don’t tell Mom and Dad about it.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “Believe me, that’s the last thing I’m gonna do.”

  “Good.” He smiled. Oh, I loved his smile so much. “Let’s just forget it and get back to all this.”

  “But you didn’t answer my question, Zayn.” I pressed it. Something was pushing me forward, from the inside. I knew I should leave it alone, like he wanted me to. Like we’d left it alone between us, sleeping dormant, for years. But I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. “I want to know why you kissed me.”

  “I got carried away.” He shrugged, tossing the trophy back in the bin. It clanged against all the other ones. “I just… I thought…”

  His voice trailed off and he stood here, quiet again.

  I stepped forward. I knew he was on the verge of revealing something to me.

  “Thought what?”

  “That it was the right moment to do it.” He stood tall, turning to look at me. There was something in his eyes. It was the way he’d looked at me last night. I saw his gaze drop to my body—I was wearing pink shorts and a white t-shirt. I hadn’t bothered with a bra, because I knew I’d be getting all sweaty and dirty. Just him looking at me had made my nipples hard and I noticed him noticing. Was he thinking about the way he’d touched them last night? I sure was.

  I was thinking about more than that. I was remembering everything we’d done in my dream, almost as if we’d actually done it, reality and fantasy blurring in my mind.

  “Do you know why I signed my abstinence contract, Linnie?” He took a step toward me, so we were inches apart now, but not touching.

  Of course, I knew why he signed it. The same reason I had. It was the right thing to do.

  But I shook my head, as if I didn’t know. Because… maybe I didn’t, after all.

  “I did it because I knew it would be easy to keep,” he confessed. He reached out and put his hands at my waist, squeezing gently, but not pulling me closer. “Linnie… you have to know… you’re the only girl I’ve ever wanted…”

  His words made my knees fe
el like they were made of glass and they were about to shatter under my meager weight.

  “And…” He sighed, looking so sad, my heart felt like it was cracking in half. “I knew I couldn’t have you.”

  But he wanted me. The only girl I’ve ever wanted. Had he really said that?

  “I’m…” I swallowed. “I’m the only girl you’ve ever wanted?”

  “Linnie…” His look was bemused. “I’ve been in love with you since the day we met.”

  “But…” I was choking on my own words. “You dated Jess!”

  “Yeah. I know. But… I don’t love her. And I know she doesn’t really love me.” He shrugged. “I like her, sure. But… it’s not the same. It’s not the way I feel about you.”

  “Oh Zayn…” My hands went to his shoulders. I could feel his muscles, all bunched up and tight. “This is awful.”

  “I know.” He closed his eyes, pressing his forehead to mine. “And I’m sorry, Linnie. I’m so sorry I kissed you like that. I promise, it won’t happen again.”

  “But… I want it to happen again,” I whispered.

  His eyes flew open and he jerked back to look at me. “Wh—what?”

  “I can’t stop thinking about you,” I told him. If it was confession time, I might as well go all the way. “Jess asked me the other day to describe my dream man… you know, if I could have any guy in the whole world? And I… I described you, Zayn. Jess knew it right away. She accused me of being in love with you.”

  “She did?”

  “She was teasing but…” I swallowed. “It’s not a joke. It’s real.”

  “Is it?” He looked down at me like he didn’t quite believe I was there. “Is any of this really happening?”

  I did the only thing I could think of to make it real.

  I kissed him.

  And it was just as magical as it had been the first time. Just as perfect as it had been last night. We fit together like two long-lost puzzle pieces. Zayn’s big, strong arms went around me, folding me against his hard, broad chest. I melted, turning to liquid, feeling that hot, wet pulse starting between my thighs, as if Zayn’s tongue was stroking there instead of raking the roof of my mouth.

  “I dreamed about you,” I whispered when we parted, seeing the dazed look in his eyes. “Last night, I had this dream… it was so amazing…”

  “What did you dream, Linnie?”

  “I dreamed you were touching me.” I gulped. Was I really going to tell him? But I had to. He had to know. Part of me wanted this—a deeper part of me had wanted it all along. “All over. Oh Zayn, your hands. And your mouth.”

  I touched his lips, tracing them with my index finger.

  “You kissed me everywhere. And then… then… you were inside me…”

  “Oh God.” He let out a low moan, his arms tightening around me.

  “I touched myself in the shower,” I confessed. “This morning. Thinking about you. Remembering my dream. I know it was wrong but, oh, it felt so good. It was the first time I ever did that.”

  Then Zayn confessed, too. “I’ve been jerking off, thinking about you, for years.”

  “You have?” I looked up at him in wonder. That hot, steady pulse between my legs was strong now, a pounding beat.

  “I couldn’t help it,” he croaked, his hands moving up under my shirt in back, touching bare skin. “I wanted you so much. And you were there, just out of my reach, all the time… it drove me crazy…”

  “Me, too.” My heart beat so fast, I felt blood rushing to my head, making me dizzy. “Oh Zayn, I want you too.”

  “What are we going to do?” he wondered aloud.

  “Mom and Dad won’t be home for hours.” I took his hand in mine, pulling gently. It didn’t take much pressure to get him to follow me.

  We didn’t make it to a bedroom. Instead, we ended up on the living room couch, Zayn kissing me down onto it, his body long and lean on mine. I yanked his shirt off—I wanted to see him, admire his hard body in a way I never could when I’d glimpsed him walking down the hall in just a towel. I ran my hands over his chest and shoulders, my fingers tracing the hard ridges of his abdomen.

  Zayn pressed kisses down my throat, over my collarbone, his face brushing against my breasts through my t-shirt. I pulled that off, too, seeing his eyes light up when I laid back down, my nipples hard, pink nubs. I wasn’t big-chested by any stretch of the imagination and I was about to apologize—Jess was much bigger than me—but Zayn moaned and pressed his face against my bare breasts, cupping them in both hands.

  “You’re so perfect,” he murmured between kisses. He made me moan out loud when he licked my nipples, then sucked them between his lips. “I’ve been thinking about doing this for so long…”

  “Me, too.” I ran my hands through his dark hair, writhing underneath his weight.

  Then Zayn was rolling over, pulling me on top of him, wrapping his arms around my waist and burying his face against my breasts. That feeling between my legs was so insistent, it was almost painful. It didn’t help that I could feel him rubbing up against me, like I was straddling a hard rod. His hands moved down my body, sliding under my shorts and underwear, cupping my bottom, kneading my flesh.

  “Oh Zayn,” I whispered as he rocked me on top of him. He was still wearing his jeans, but he was so hard, I couldn’t help but feel him. “That feels so good…”

  “Tell me about your dream.” Zayn moved my hips, looking up into my eyes. “Where were we? What were we doing?”

  “We were on this couch.” I smiled. “But… I was sitting up…”

  His eyes lit up and he pushed me back, sitting me up on the couch beside him.

  “And you… were on the floor… between my legs…” As I said the words, he situated himself exactly like that.

  I lifted my hips for him as he slid my shorts and panties down. My whole body was trembling in excitement and anticipation. And a little fear. I was afraid he wouldn’t like me—that I wouldn’t live up to his expectations. But when his gaze moved down my breasts and belly, settling between my thighs, I wasn’t afraid anymore. I could tell—he liked what he saw.

  “What was I doing?” he asked softly. “In your dream?”

  His hands moved up my waist to my breasts, tweaking my nipples. That made me moan and move my hips up.

  “I.... I can’t…”

  “Tell me,” he insisted. His thumbs rubbed my nipples, back and forth, making me undulate on the couch. “Tell me, Linnie.”

  “Your mouth…” I reached down to touch his lips, feeling breathless at the thought. “You were kissing me…”

  “Where?” He licked his lips, his eyes dark with lust. His hands moved down to my waist, then my hips, pulling me closer. “Show me, Linnie.”

  My face felt like it was on fire. His hands raked down my thighs, pushing them wide, I gasped and shook my head, but I didn’t stop him.

  “Here,” I said, showing him by sliding a hand down between my legs and parting my swollen lips. “You were kissing me… here…”

  “Kissing.” He smiled, leaning in and pressing his lips right there, where my finger was pointing—right at my clit. He feathered little kisses, again and again, making me jump. “Just… kissing?”

  “No,” I whispered. “Licking, too. Please, Zayn. I’m burning up in there. I want you to do it.”

  “You want me to taste you?” His hands rubbed up and down my thighs, keeping my knees apart. His fingers kept brushing against my sex, tugging gently at my pubic hair.

  “Yes.” I nodded, eager, remembering how good it felt just to touch myself. What would his tongue feel like? “Oh please, yes, taste me…”

  “You smell so good.” He breathed me in, nosing my fingers aside, and then his tongue was parting my lips, sliding up and down in all that wetness.

  It was like nothing I’d imagined. It went far beyond anything I could have even believed. The flesh was so hot and tender there, and every time his tongue touched my clit, I cried out, gripping his hair in my han
ds. He took a long time exploring with his mouth, kissing, licking, sucking on every part of me. My nipples hardened to sharp points and I couldn’t help pinching them, sending hot sparks down between my legs.

  “You taste so fucking good.” Zayn’s face was glistening as he lifted it to look at me. I’d never heard him swear before and for some reason, it made what we were doing even more exciting.

  “Would you… put a finger in me?” I asked, remembering how it had felt when I did that in the shower.

  “You want me to?”

  His eyes were bright as he worked one finger slowly into me. I bit my lip when he slipped another one in. There was no pain—just a warm sensation that spread outward from my core, through my limbs, all the way to my toes and fingertips. What would it feel like, when Zayn slid inside there? I wondered, meeting his eyes as he fingered me. I couldn’t help rocking my hips and I let out a little cry when his thumb found its way to my clit.

  “Oh Zayn!” I moved faster, helping him, wanting more. “Don’t stop!”

  He did it harder without me even asking, sending me over the edge. I cried out just like I had in the shower, but this time I didn’t have to be quiet. This time it was loud and free and oh, so wonderful. My body took over, quivering everywhere as my climax rippled through me, filling me with so much pleasure I almost couldn’t stand it.

  No wonder masturbation is a sin, I thought, still panting as I looked down at my stepbrother. If just touching feels this good—what must sex be like?

  “Wow, Linnie.” Zayn made a noise of surprise when he felt my juices on his hand. “You’re so beautiful. So fucking beautiful.”

  “Say it again.” I rubbed my fingers over his lips.

  “That you’re beautiful?”

  “No…” I shook my head and took a deep breath. “Fuck… say fuck.”

  He grinned. “You want me to tell you how much I want to fuck you?”

  I let out a little moan, nodding.

  “Yes, yes, yes,” I said. It was all I could seem to say.

  “I do want to fuck you,” he told me, his voice low and hoarse, his fingers still playing in my wetness. “But I want to taste you again first.”