Page 4 of Wanting What’s Wrong

Three

Trent

I saw the way other guys looked at her. I saw it in their eyes. The lust. The wanting. She’s the only one who doesn’t realize what a masterpiece she is.

If I wasn’t so focused on getting the hell out of there with her, I would have removed their eyes for the offense.

She’s a fucking all-American angel with a body built for fucking. Hot as hell, sweet as sugar, and she’s my step-sister. Of course she is.

Fate is a motherfucker with a hella sense of humor.

Two years away from her almost made me forget how perfect she is. Yeah, she’d sent selfies. Yeah, I’d spent hours, achingly hard, looking at her face, thinking about that night before I left.

The sounds I heard behind her bedroom door. Her whispers to me, thinking I couldn’t hear.

But nothing prepared me for today. Nothing prepared me for her scent, her cherry lips, the dimple on her left cheek. The way her body has blossomed. Nothing could prepare me for the way her dress shows off her nipples, and the way her tits jiggle with every rattle of the Jeep.

Blood surged to my cock as soon as I saw her and it hasn’t stopped since. Her girl-next-door- blonde hair was windswept and wild down below her shoulders now. She’s got two little strands pulled back, held in place with a little Felix the Cat barrette.

She’s wearing the little gold star earrings mom and dad gave her for her sweet sixteen.

The curve of her legs comes out from the sweet hem of her sundress.

Her fingernails and toenails are pink like I imagine her nipples.

She’s wearing her signature red dollar stores flip-flops but what’s the best are those dimples.

Jesus Christ, those dimples.

“Trent?” Her words yank me out of my lust-haze. She snaps a few times in my face. Bratty little sweetheart. “The limo. Explain the freaking limo. And the watch.”

She’s always been like this—straight to the point. Sweet with a sting. Since the very first day.

Her dad married my mom when I was ten and she was three. I still remember the first day I met her. She put her hands on her hips, looked up at me, and said, “I don’t need a big brother!”

But she got one anyway and the truth was, she did need me.

Our home was safe, but our neighborhood wasn’t.

I cut my teeth in vacant lots, out back behind shitty bungalows with bars on the windows and rusted chain link.

I was a scrappy fighter, dirty and ruthless.

But never more ruthless than when it was her that I had to protect—as that little fucktard Henry Weaver found out.

She snaps her fingers between us. “Oh my god. I’m going to have to blame the jet lag because you’re making me crazy. Trent. Limo. Tell.”

Right, right. There’s a time for a trip down memory lane, but this isn’t it. “It’s my dad. ”

She glances away from the road, meeting my eyes, her sweet, plump lips open for a breath before she asks, “What dad? Your sperm donor dad?”

“Yeah. He died. A month ago.” I take a deep breath. I don’t know how to say this except to just fucking rip the Band-Aid off. “And apparently I’m his heir .”

Kat blinks a few times. “His heir? Heir to what? Because the last thing I heard about him, he was a deadbeat dad without a pot to piss in, a fifth of Jack in the glovebox, and no clue how to be what you needed in your life.”

Boom. Sweet with a sting, like I said. And she’s exactly right. “Yeah. This fucking universe, Kitty Kat, it has a sense of humor.”

“What do you mean?”

“He won the lottery. In a big fucking way. He was so drunk he didn’t even remember buying the ticket at first, according to his lawyer. He blew through a bunch of it in the year after, but managed to get his head together to write a will before… He left it all to me.”

I don’t tell her the rest of what the attorney said. That his drinking was a problem until his last moments, that some friends ended up shooting him when they broke into his house one night thinking he had a safe full of cash somewhere. He didn’t but he still ended up dead.

Kat takes a deep breath, making her tits rise and fall as she taps her fingers on the steering wheel.

She’s wearing this little white dress with pairs of red cherries all over it.

The shoulder strap of her bra is just visible over the edge of her shoulder.

Hot pink. Christ. “Are we talking money- money ?”

I drag my eyes from her tits, but I’m greedy, so I put them on her lap for a second, taking in the luscious crease between her legs, before forcing myself to look at her face.

“Yeah, money-money in the hundred million sort of range. In a trust. I just got all the details last week. There’s an executor that’s been helping me out, but I have full access.

It’s all mine. I’ve been able to access it for a couple things, but I knew I’d be back this week, so I wanted to surprise you. ”

Kat stays straight-faced, taking in the news. She’s good about giving herself a second to process. For a guy like me who is quick to throw the first punch, it’s a fucking inspiration.

She raises her eyebrows on a dismissive shrug. “Well, color me surprised and that explains the limo and the bling .” She tips her head toward my wrist.

“Bling? Did you serious just say that? You watching reruns of the Fresh Prince still?”

“Shut up. I love that show and I call ‘em like I see ‘em.” She snaps and I laugh for the first time in so goddamned long.

It feels amazing. Being with her again is heaven after two years in hell. “Yeah. It was difficult as fuck to do anything with the money from over there and I was whacked out still from my injury. By the time I had my head right, I was coming home.”

“Jesus. Wow.” I see her swallow, fingers gripping the wheel.

“Just wait. And by the way, we’re not going back to your place.”

She looks at me, brow all furrowed. Under all that beauty, she’s still that spunky little kid who didn’t think she needed me at all.

“We aren’t?”

“You deserve the best of everything Kitty Kat, and I’m going to give it to you. So I bought a place in Elmond Estates. Got it legal and signed for a few days ago. Wanted it to be a surprise. Place is fucking lit—”

She interrupts me with a burst of laughter. “Did you just say ‘lit’? Seriously? And you’re on me for ‘bling’?”

“Whatever, I got it all set for us. Furnished, decorated, kitchen is stocked. Down to fresh raspberries in the fridge and those strawberry, crunchy ice cream bars you love in the freezer. Oh, and Crunch Berry. I hate that fucking cereal. ”

“No way.” She gives me a little shove. “How did you remember that? And, Crunch Berry is the best cereal ever made. Ever .”

I stifle a grimace of pain as she pushes me and I try not to laugh. Her worried eyes tell me she notices. Because she knows me better than anybody else.

“Never mind the money. Never mind the house,” she says, reaching over and taking my hand. “Are you okay? You didn’t tell me everything. So you might as well tell me because what I’m imagining is awful.”

I watch the trees rush past, and count one, two, three mile-markers as I decide how much to tell her. I don’t want to fucking burden her. I don’t want to fucking overwhelm her. But I do want her to know.

“It was bad. Two bullets, through-and-through. In the chest. I flat-lined for thirty-three seconds during surgery. Damn near bled to death.”

She squeezes my hand; her sweet little fingers knitted between my scarred, tanned ones.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Because I’m fucking proud. And tough. And hated to think of her worried. “Because I woke up. Because I’m good.”

“Bullshit me at your own risk, son,” she says, mimicking Dad’s voice.

She’s gotten tougher in the years since I’ve been gone. I fucking love it and hate it at the same time.

I draw a long breath and look away. It’s a fucking head game, being this close to her. I start shaking my leg trying to get my dick under control as I tell myself what a shit I am, getting a hard on for forbidden fruit. For my sister.

Step-sister, I correct myself, but it doesn’t make it less sinful.

But my dick is on autopilot, and I’m consumed with thoughts of slipping deep inside that holy, slippery, tight space of hers .

More nights than I can possibly count, that’s where I’ve lived. I want to make her pull this fucking Jeep over, and take her right over my knee, right here on the side of the highway. Redden those ass cheeks with my hand, and then slip her little panties off and…

Christ, Reynolds, stop . I have to. Because there’s something I need from her. And it’s not her pussy.

Not yet.

“I mean, I’m mostly fine. Kind of fine.” I exhale through my nose, running my hand over the top of my head.

Her eyes linger on mine then flick forward again. “Tell me.”

Another long inhale then, “Yeah. So that’s the problem. I need some help and I need to know if you’d be the one to help me.”

She bites her lip, working her teeth into it, blinking twice before flicking her gaze down at my knees for a second. “You mean like, nurse you?” she asks, concentrating forward again.

“Yeah.” My voice is thick. Emotions I’ve pushed down for two years are ready to explode from my chest. “It’s a big ask. I know, but…”

“Did you get hit in the head too?” She shoots me a hard glare, twisting up her face. “Of course I’ll help you, dumb-ass. It’s not a big ask. Not at all. If you ask anyone else, then we’re going to throw down.” Her naive, wide-eyed, dimpled face sends a jolt straight into my heart.

Swords are clashing inside me. The battle between hard-headed independence and sincerely accepting the help I need and want.

“But you’ve got work.” But, not for long because you don’t need to work. “You’ve got a life.” But, I want to be your life, as selfish as that is.

Pink creeps up her cheeks, blooming into fuchsia as I watch her squint at the road, then reply .

“I’ve saved up some vacation time and took this week off anyway. I’d do anything for you. Anything you need.”

My heart fucking aches as my balls feel like they grow three sizes, filling with cum.

My angel. My everything. What she can’t know, looking at me, is that I’ve been saving myself for her.

I give zero fucks that she’s my step-sister.

My body, my soul, my cock are all hers. Always have been. Always will be.

“You are the perfect sister.” The last word lingers on my tongue like sweet depravity.

She nods. “And anyway, Trent. In case you didn’t know, you are my life.”

Fuck. Fuck.