Wanting by Lynn Burke

Addilyn

Iknew what Gideon did the second I caught sight of him lying back on his bed, and I stared a few seconds too long at his hand, slick and glistening in the lowered lights. He took advantage of my pause to tease me. Wrapping my panties around his length and jerking off in them.

Jackass.

My pulse thrumming in my ears, I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror, my hands in a white-knuckle clench on the vanity’s edge.

He used my panties—dirty ones from the basket behind me.

Totally gross, and yet my core pulsed at the thought.

I’d never seen a guy masturbate before. Never saw a guy’s penis outside of drawings in my health class and a few pictures I’d peeked at on my new cell when Jenny had slept over the night after Christmas.

Red fused my cheeks, and I cupped them in my hands, quietly cursing myself, cursing Gideon.

I hated that he made my insides ache with longing Mother said only older women ought to feel.

I hated how the way he bit his lower lip churned up my mind over breaking my determination to wait for my sweet sixteen kiss too.

I hated that Mother showed him as much attention as she did me and thought she could earn his appreciation and respect with gifts.

Lips tight, I yanked open the top vanity drawer and grabbed my brush. A few harsh strokes straightened a bit of the natural curl to my hair, and I once again cursed—but this time at Mother for not allowing me to cut my hair into a short bob like I’d always wanted.

Long hair was beautiful, she claimed. Feminine and graceful when pinned up for special events. Classy rather than whorish.

Chit’n Chat never said anything like that about hair styles, and her words made me wonder what Mother had been taught as a kid—not enough to ask though. The last thing I needed was more “woe is me” bullshit from the woman who was supposed to love me unconditionally.

All but growling, my eyes stinging over the relentless knots, I tossed the brush away and finished with my nightly routine. The temptation to keep Gideon locked out of the bathroom had me nibbling my lower lip while studying his door, but in the end, I relented and unlocked his before scampering back to my bedroom—and locking mine from the outside.

Heart once more pounding, I stared at my door and waited, knowing he would want to wash up the mess he’d made.

I remembered hearing his moans the first night he’d moved in. Jenny and I had been wide-eyed and staring at one another as he’d taken care of himself in the shower. We had giggled afterward, but I’d never been able to rid my mind of the image I’d conjured. Every time my ears caught the hint of him doing it again, that night came to mind.

And now I have the real thing to imagine.

Blowing out a heavy exhale, I turned down my lights, shook off my robe to leave at the foot of my bed, and crawled beneath my covers. I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling, knowing I wouldn’t ever be able to sleep.

Jenny was a night owl, so I grabbed my cell off my bedstand.

Me: Awake still?

She called rather than texting a reply. “Did you give it to him?”

I rolled my eyes. “Never, but I caught him jerking off,” I whispered, biting back a giddy smile.

“No. Way.”

“Seriously. With the panties I wore yesterday.”

“What?”

“He must have gotten them out of the dirty laundry.”

“Oh my God,” she moaned, and I could see her flopping back onto her bed as an oomph noise filled my ear. “Tell me. Vivid details, please. How thick, how long. Veins and all.”

I tried to fulfill my best friend’s fantasy but couldn’t find the right words to adequately describe the vision of his hips lifting, abs flexing, the small noises rumbling in his chest as his hand made a wet sound while sliding up and down his length.

My core pulsed, and I closed my eyes, silently reminding myself that I hated Gideon Destil, that the desire I felt for him was shameful.

“I’m so jealous,” Jenny whined. “Can I sleep at your place tomorrow night? We can leave his door open earlier in the day on purpose and maybe we’ll both get lucky later.”

“No!” I barked out with a laugh, my insides still jittery enough that my voice shook.

“Come on, Addy! I’ll leave my panties on the vanity for him if you don’t want him using yours again.”

That ugly feeling in my stomach roused to life, and my laughter cut off. “No.”

“Well at least let me come over. We can snuggle, get sick off Swedish Fish, and watch Stolen. It released on Blue-Ray yesterday.”

The stalker movie we’d seen over the summer where the anti-hero kidnapped the woman he’d obsessed over had been all we’d talked about for months on end.

“That was so hot,” I said, remembering how much the movie had heated me up. I’d felt strange, weird over being turned on by thoughts of being kidnapped and tied up for some asshole’s pleasure, but after Jenny admitted to it first, I admitted I did too.

We’d had good laughs and a long discussion over Stockholm syndrome. Not that we actually wanted it to happen for real.

“Could you imagine being taken like that?” I murmured anyway, wanting to reminisce to rid my mind of my stepbrother and all the talk of panties and what he did with them. “Tied up to some guy’s bed, being held against your will?” I liked the shiver licking over my skin a little too much.

“We’re sick,” Jenny said with a quiet laugh.

“It’s not sick—it does happen,” I stated. “Guy kidnaps girl, girl falls for guy, and they end up having sex in every position there is.”

“Every position.” Jenny snorted.

“I’m serious!”

“Name a few.”

“Missionary. Doggy style.”

“Yeah? And?” she prompted when I hesitated, wracking my brain.

I frowned. “Okay, so I don’t have much knowledge, but I’ve got a good imagination.”

“Same, girl.”

“And every fantasy showcases my stepbrother, am I right?” I asked, rolling my eyes and hating the return of that weird twist in my stomach.

“Damn right.”

“You’re sick.”

“You’re an idiot for not…what’d he say? Climbing up on his dick and going for a ride?”

I imagined straddling his trim waist, his rippling abs with the dark line of hair beneath my fingertips. The hairs on my neck stood on end as though he’d walked in my room, but a quick glance around showed it empty of anyone but me. “Maybe you better sleep over tomorrow night,” I whispered while lying back and closing my eyes, “and we can use Google to teach us a few things.”

“I might have done some searching on my phone already.”

My eyelids popped open. “You dirty sneak!”

“Well…”

I could imagine her shrug, the embarrassment turning her face red. I also felt cheated a bit. Jenny and I did everything together, always had since we met in kindergarten. “I’m going to hang up now and browse to my heart’s content.”

“Don’t you dare without me!”

“You did it to me!” I shot back, grinning and burrowing under my blankets.

“Fine,” Jenny said with a sigh. “Look up some stuff and bookmark the good links to show me tomorrow. I’ll see what I can find too.”

Grinning, I agreed, and a few seconds later, I pulled my covers over my head, opened an incognito tab, and went bug-eyed at what I brought up on my screen with a few taps of my fingertips. Mostly drawings of sexual positions but some images of real people as well. Videos.

Lower lip between my teeth, I clicked on an image that took me to a pornography site and promptly fell down a rabbit hole of arousal and fantasy. Thick dicks, wet and gaping holes. Ropes and swats that left handprints on ass cheeks and made my own backside tingle with curiosity. Dirty words and cries when gushing around fingers and stabbing lengths.

Mother would be horrified by what I stared at, what she’d always warned me away from in order to remain pure—but I couldn’t keep from clicking. Watching. Gulping and gasping.

When I finally cleared my history, shut off my cell, and set it aside, an hour had passed.

Wetness smeared inside my panties, and shame heated my cheeks. But I needed something…release, no matter how wrong Mother claimed it was.

I burrowed beneath my blankets again and slid my fingertips under the band. Slick and hot to the touch, my core ached for more than the finger I pushed inside me.

I wanted something thicker, a real-life penis like the one Gideon had held in hand. Imagining him shoving deep into my body, my hands held in his tight fists overhead, his muscles flexing with every thrust like I’d seen on various videos…

Panting, I rode the wave of my fantasy, bringing myself to climax. Not nearly as good as I expected the real thing would be, but I had no wish to fulfill my fantasy.

My body might lust for my stepbrother, but he would be the last jackass on the face of the earth I would ever admit to wanting.