Paul Dirkwood saw her and fought an instant rush of desire. Of course, Liza Walters probably inspired a lot of erections during her day-to-day life. She had this rounded ass that just begged for a man to grip those curves as he spread her legs and tasted the flesh hidden in between.
Not to mention those breasts—all heavy and swinging with her every movement. But his favorite of her many tempting physical traits were her innocent eyes. He knew for a fact that she could look just as sweet and untouched while she had his cock in her ripe lips.
Yeah, in his case, the immediate shard of lust came from recognition. Years ago, their parents dated. He was only seventeen at the time—not yet even familiar with the word taboo, not to mention the decadent thrill that came with being kinky—and exploring his feelings for Liza seemed natural. They were thrown together, told to “go find something to do” while their parents were together, and they became friends.
Likely, neither of their parents expected that relationship would become anything but platonic. Arguably, neither had he and Liza at the time. When it did go over the edge, however, it went fast and furious. They’d not actually done “the deed,” but the involvement with Liza back then changed—or awakened?—some of Paul’s more deviant tendencies.
When he spotted her across the crowded ballroom in Vegas, he knew he wanted to renew their friendship. Preferably including the more intriguing parts. Cutting through the people separating them, Paul caught her gaze before he managed to get to her side, and her amber eyes sent his pulse pumping.
She recognized him.
It seemed important, somehow, that she knew him on sight. Time and circumstance might have separated them, but he’d never forgotten her. Or how he’d felt about her. When their parents split up, they’d tried to keep in touch, but neither parent wanted the contact to continue. Apparently, it was salt on their wounds or something, according to his dad. After a while, it had been easier to go with the flow to avoid upsetting his dad by calling Liza.
Then too much time had passed for him to contact her without looking like a fool. Now, so many years later, he was glad to find her. To see her again. To hope that maybe he’d meant as much to her as she had to him. Before he could reach her side, though, his father appeared at his elbow, tugging him toward the stage on one end of the long room. “It’s time for the toast,” his dad said. “The ceremony is in one hour. Can you believe it?”
Right then, Paul didn’t care about the toast or the quickie wedding. He didn’t care about anything beyond meeting with Liza again. But she was making her way the same direction as him, so he figured he’d do the toast thing, then get to talk to her. Their gazes remained locked, and silently he begged her to stay. To wait for him to stand by his father’s side while Dad announced his wedding.
Paul didn’t know why there was so much secrecy and surprise involved with this whole event, anyway. His father had contacted him with plane tickets, ordering him to fly in for the rush wedding and engagement celebration, but offered no other information. Not that it mattered. His father was a serial husband—getting married and divorced more often than Paul changed the oil on his car. But he’d come—and what a great idea that had been, if it meant he’d get to see Liza again.
She was also stepping up on the stage, joining her mother. He recognized the older woman and was surprised to see her there. What a reunion, all of them in one place again.
When the toast happened, he again took in Liza’s face, reading her expression to be one of sadness rather than anything else. Why was she sad? Instantly, under a surge of possessiveness, he battled an urge to make it better. To take care of her and give her only pleasure rather than any dark emotion like sadness or pain.
His father slung an arm around Liza’s mom’s waist and was speaking, but the words were blurring in Paul’s brain. No…it couldn’t be.
But yes, they were kissing and he stared slack jawed at Liza, who’d finally made it to his side. “Hey, so I guess you’re going to be my older brother now?”
Her voice was whiskey-drenched temptation, and he swallowed hard. “No,” he said simply. “Not just no, hell no.”
She looked away from him, considering their parents. “Are you buying the shots or should I?”
Liza followed him to the bar, loving the way his dress slacks hugged his gorgeous ass. Damn, if young Paul Dirkwood had been irresistible, the man version was sin walking. It was impossible to be near him, though, and not remember their twisted and rebellious past. Sure, they’d become friends…which was perfectly acceptable under the circumstances.
Actually, he’d been her best friend. The one she told her secrets to, shared her dreams with, and laughed alongside. But he’d also been an attractive older guy. How had one year in age difference seemed like such a big deal back then? It was the past, and it was better to pretend none of it had ever happened. Even if he had been the one to soothe her many nightmares and hold her hand when no one else really made her feel special.
Closing her eyes, she swallowed hard. It wasn’t easy to pretend the past hadn’t happened when being with him had been her first sexual experience, even if they hadn’t ever gone all the way—and best, to be honest, even without penetration. Partly, she was sure, because it was so forbidden. He was the son of her mom’s boyfriend, therefore practically family.
But practically family and actually family were two very different things. Hell, she still remembered the family trip when they’d been in the very back of a minivan…
She glanced at him as he held up two fingers and ordered them drinks at the bar. Likely, he wouldn’t remember that particular trip.
But she did. Their parents had been in the front of the car, focused on each other and singing along to old music they both enjoyed, and she’d laid her head in Paul’s lap. She knew the adults would assume she was napping, thinking nothing of it since the two of them flopped together more often than not. Under her head, she’d felt his cock harden, and they’d stared at each other for the longest, most weighted moments of her adolescent life.
It took a lot of bravery to reach one hand up and stroke it through his still slightly damp swim trunks, but it was worth it. His breath sucked in between his teeth and he’d caught her hair roughly in his fingers.
Paul was never rough with her, not normally, but she got his meaning. He wanted her to stop, because it wasn’t the time or the place, but she also saw the need in his eyes. Licking her lips, she hadn’t removed her hand from over his hardened dick…and he hadn’t removed it, either.
After a few tense seconds, his gaze shifted, considering their parents carefully. She waited until his features had again settled into calmness, then sighed a little when he’d adjusted himself to recline a bit more in the seat, allowing her better access. His fingertips stroked her hair gently before he reached to adjust the towel she’d used as a blanket.
If their parents glanced back, she no doubt looked covered, tucked under the towel, but he’d lifted the edge that faced the seat. She was only wearing a bikini, their beach day too warm and beautiful for her to bother to put on more clothes before they’d piled into the car. When his wandering hand stroked her breast, she’d gasped.
Their parents never stopped singing from the front seat, and she became braver. Freeing his cock from the shorts, she stroked it slowly while watching him try to control his expression and breathing. When her mouth touched the end of his thick length, he’d glanced at her with something like desperation on his face.
His middle finger had found its way into her bikini bottom, thrumming against her clit roughly. To keep herself from moaning at the pleasure he was causing, she sucked his cock deep into her mouth. The jerk of his hips nearly unseated her and she’d stopped, looking at him for long moments while he worked to control his reaction.
When he’d gotten off with a moan, she licked him clean while his dad asked if he was okay. The squeak of Paul’s voice as he tried to explain that his leg had fallen asleep made her want to giggle.
It had been like that with them—risqué, romantic, wildly sensual but with overtones of their friendship throughout it all. Losing him—losing that connection—was one of her greatest regrets.
Throwing back the shot he handed her, she met his familiar gaze again.
His eyes were knowing, like he suspected she was also lost in memories of them together and she swallowed the hard liquor with a sigh. “We have less than an hour until the ceremony.”
He shook his head. “This is so fucked up,” he said.
She nodded, but she couldn’t resist reaching forward to tuck one of the locks of his ever-untamed hair from his brow. “I know.”
His hand gripped her wrist, surprising her as he dragged her closer. When their bodies were flush, he whispered so softly that no one around them could’ve possibly heard him, “If you think anything they do changes what is between us, you’re fooling yourself, my pretty little Liza.”
Blinking up at him, she licked her lips. It seemed Paul had grown up a bit since when they’d last met. “What, big brother? What could possibly be between us at this point?”
He dragged her hand lower, using her palm to cup the thick ridge between his legs. “This will always be between us. And so much more. You’re not going to pretend you don’t feel it, are you?”
Gripping his cock, she tried to fake a confidence she didn’t feel. “This little thing? I can feel it, all right.” But in her head, she was torn between the rush of lust and panic. People could see her standing there touching him in such a private place. On the one hand, anyone could spot them, and if it was one of her mother’s friends…they’d know she was touching her soon to be brother in a way that was far from sisterly. On the other hand, he knew it was one of her things—she’d always liked the risk of being caught.
Even before she’d gotten old enough to realize just how twisted her tastes were.
He leaned closer to her, stroking her cheek gently before running his fingertips over the shell of her ear. “If you honestly thought it was so little, why are you still holding me so very tight, little sister?”
Releasing him abruptly, she moved to the bar. “I’m going to need more shots to get through this day.”
“Same,” he replied, but his hand was stroking her ass as he said it.