Authors: Parker Ford
“Mom,” he said placing one square in front of her. “Dad.”
He stroked her ponytail and touched her forehead. “Lunch?”
“Sure.”
“Soup, salad or sandwich?”
“Pizza bagel.”
Gareth laughed. “Of course, it wasn’t an option.”
She grinned. “I know we have everything bagels and Bowman Deli’s Provolone and pepperoni. I know we have fresh tomatoes. And I know you make a kick ass pizza bagel.”
“You’re not going to learn anything from those other than our parents were married before.”
He bent and kissed the top of her head before heading into the kitchen.
Jordan stared at the name on the white piece of paper. Kurt Paulson. The phone book was in the hutch as always and she flipped through the P section for Paulson. Seven. There were seven Paulson listed.
“Are you my father?” she whispered.
“What?”
“Well, Gareth, doesn’t it stand to reason that if we aren’t actually brother and sister. If that’s true. That the man mom was married to before was my dad. Or your dad? Someone’s dad.”
“I have his eyes,” he said softly.
“Pardon?”
Gareth wiped his hands on a red striped dish towel. “I have dad’s eyes. Same color, same shape, same light sensitivity.” He forced a laugh.
“So that means mom would be my mom and dad your dad. Which means Kurt Paulson could be my dad. My
real
dad.” She ran a hand through her long bangs, ruffling them and then smoothing them repeatedly. “If you’re right.”
“If I’m right,” he echoed.
The buzzer sounded and Gareth ducked into the kitchen to grab their lunch.
Chapter Seven
She didn’t really want to eat. The whole scenario from their hike kept crowding her thoughts. It was all he could think of. That kiss. That orgasm. Her brother getting her off. And now… Kurt Paulson.
The pizza she’d requested, that she’d salivated over, tasted like paper and soggy tomatoes in her mouth. She ate half and couldn’t eat any more.
“You upset?” Gareth was watching her carefully.
“About what?”
“About any of it. The certificate,” he nodded to the paper. “Or…us.”
“Not upset. Overwhelmed.”
He nodded to her. “Understandable, Jojo.”
“What’s it like?” she blurted.
“What’s what like?” he swigged his iced tea and studied her.
His gaze on her was like a touch. Her nipples pebbled and her stomach felt nervous and buzzy. Her pussy grew soft and wet and a steady pulse took up residence in her entire body. From head to toe the thrum of lust filled her.
She considered him, wondering if she should just tell him never mind. If she should just push it all aside. But the image of him bound to the bed and Isabel naked and angry and all of it rushed back and she blurted, “The games you play. The pain and…stuff.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her. Clearly this is not what Gareth had expected of her. “You want to know?”
“Maybe.” Her mouth was dry and her throat felt tight.
“You’d have to listen. Whatever I say. Whatever I want.”
“And you?”
“And I reward you for it if you do…and punish you for it if you don’t.”
A small rush of fluid escaped her and she shifted in the hard dining room chair. “Really?”
“Really.”
“You’d hurt me?”
“Enough,” Gareth said, popping the final bite of the bagel in his mouth.
“What do you mean enough?”
“Enough that you’d want more. Enough that you’d crave it.”
Jordan placed her hands flat on the table and pressed down to steady herself. “Will you teach me?”
“Will you learn?”
She nodded.
“It would mean more stuff like earlier. I don’t know how long it will take us to figure out…this.” He waved a finger over the paperwork on the table. “And we might end up being wrong about our suspicions.”
“I know.” It was hard to force the words out but she managed. Barely.
“So that means at some point, you’d be fucking your brother.”
A tremor shook her chest and worked down into her belly. Jordan struggled to find air. She tried to steady her galloping pulse and failed. “I know,” she breathed.
“Fucking. Your. Brother.” His eyes were sharp and bright in the soft light of the dining room. The day outside was still gray and dreary.
“I know.”
“If we’re wrong…and this…
more
between us is just some glitch in us, then how are you going to feel?”
“I don’t know.” Best to be honest. She was always honest with Gareth, but it was a relief—like a huge weight falling free of her—to be honest about this particular topic. It had been locked up inside of her, gnawing away at her soul, for way too long.
“But you want to go forward?”
“I do.”
“I will fuck you, Jordan. At some point.”
She nodded, her heart having lodged itself very suddenly in her throat. She felt giddy and lightheaded and terrified.
He smiled at her. A barely there, half grin that made her body warm and tingly. She wanted to touch him right then. Now that she’d admitted it, the urge to touch him—inappropriately—was overwhelming.
“Now?” she asked, tracing the edge of the marriage certificate with her fingernail.
He smiled again and her blood leapt.
Then he said, “No.”
*****
Gareth left the house for a run. Left for a run!
It had Jordan reeling. The conversation. The possibility that they weren’t siblings…not really. She pushed his words out of her head only to have them burst right back in.
I will fuck you, Jordan. At some point…
She grabbed the phone book and the phone and started dialing Kurt Paulsons.
The first Kurt was deceased. The second well on his way, so deaf she had to shout into the phone loud enough to make her throat sore. The third had no idea who Kelly Singer was and had been married to the same woman for fifty years (making him too old). It was on the fourth call that she hit pay dirt.
“Kurt? What do you need with Kurt?” An older woman asked.
Jordan tried to keep her frustration at bay. “I’m looking for the Kurt Paulson who was married to Kelly Singer. She was my—“
“Kelly! How is Kelly?”
“I don’t know,” Jordan said with a sigh. “I haven’t seen my mother in years.”
There was silence and then a tentative, “I’m sorry, dear.”
“Do you know Kurt?”
“Kurt’s my son. And he’s just moved to Delaware. Got a job there and a house and he’s dating a nice woman already. I hope there might be some wedding bells on the way. But who knows. He’s no spring chicken but he’s not old either. You know?”
Jordan laughed. “I do.”
She explained the possible connection and got his phone number and address. With shaking hands she wrote it all down and thanked the woman who said her name was Catherine.
She could be your grandmother…
Jordan left her info on the table, stripped out of her rubber boots and jeans and everything else—still damp from the hike—and climbed into the shower. She had it cranked as hot as she could get it, her skin reddening to the point of absurdity. The room filled with steam. She’d just washed her hair with her peach scented shampoo, finally rescued from her bags, and rinsed when she heard the door.
“Now,” Gareth said and pulled the curtain back.
Jordan moved to cover herself and when he cocked an eyebrow—a long lived habit of her brother’s—she froze. Her hands dropped to her side and she waited, heart thudding.
“Good girl,” he said with a smile. That smile went right to the center of her where she was hot and wet and suddenly eager to please. Hearing him say
good girl
had her head spinning. It was lust she was feeling and it was time to just stop hiding it and accept it.
“I figured you’d be a faster learner. You always did defer to me,” Gareth said, barely audible above the rush of the shower. But his words and his tone insinuated into her ears and her head.
She watched, feeling frozen, as he reached out and traced a single bead of water on her breast. He wicked it away before letting the next drop descend. Her nipple puckered at his nearness and he pinched her until a small needy sound rushed out of her.
“You like that burst of pain. Like a salty finish on a super sweet dessert. It’s a contrast that makes the pleasure so much bigger, so much brighter.” He leaned in and pressed the very tip of his tongue to the very tip of her hard nipple. Then looking up with those bright green eyes he said, “So very
real.
”
He captured the hardened nub in his mouth and sucked once, very hard, so that she felt a resounding tug all through her belly and her cunt. She shifted just a little, trying so hard to release some of the pressure that had built in her pussy and her womb, but he tsked at her. “No, no, no. Stay still please, Jojo.”
She froze.
His finger slid from the valley between her breasts and down over her belly button. Jordan watched mesmerized as the goose bumps appeared on her skin, a mob of taut flesh reacting to his gentle touch. Gareth’s fingers slipped a bit lower, stroking the tender skin a few inches above her shaved mound. Then he feathered his fingers over her wet sex and just let the heat of his body seep in. “Spread your legs.”
She did it without a second thought. He leaned into the shower, his hiking boots a stark contrast on the pink bathmat that covered the bathroom floor. She had a second for that one odd observation and then Gareth drove two fingers into her. Instantly hooking them so the touched the swollen knot of her G-spot.
Jordan shivered and almost came. Just from that one touch. Just from that one thrust.
He kissed her, licked water from her cheeks, her neck, her collarbone and thrust those fingers one more time before pulling free of her. Jordan made a noise of distress and wished them back.
Instead, Gareth took the showerhead off the wall and aimed the medium speed jet at her clit. “Hands on the tile please.”
She pressed her hands flat to the wall and tried to breathe. It was hard since it felt like all of her energy—the part of her that made her Jordan—was rallying for this moment. Rushing up to the surface ready to burst out of her with the orgasm that she could feel swiftly approaching.
Just when she was on the brink, he angled the shower head just to the tender spot just above her clit. Jordan sighed. Gareth’s eyes never left her, he tracked every twitch, every flicker, every move as he manned the showerhead. Jordan felt more naked than naked.
The water warmed some and he again settled the flow right on her clit. Her fingers curled to the tile as more pressure bloomed in her pussy. She felt so tender and swollen and ready she could scream. And yet, she wanted him to drag it out. She wanted to savor this.
I will fuck you, Jordan. At some point…
She gasped at the memory and he angled the water jet to the left of her clitoris. This time, Jordan fought the urge to scream.
Her eyes found his, her eyes that were stormy blue like her mother’s and not green like his—and she whispered, “Please, Gar.”
“Hush up now. You said you’d listen.”
She bit her lip and moved her hips some. Not even realizing she was about to until she did it—tipping her pelvis just so to get a better angle on the bursts of water.
“Not cheating,” he said and angled it to the left of where she wanted it.
She swallowed her words but a short strangled sound slipped past her lips.
Gareth grinned.
The water left her and he leaned over like a man bowing properly to royalty and licked he nipple until she felt fluttery spasms in her cunt. His tongue dragged slowly from her left breast to her right and he sucked that pointed bud also.
She gripped the slippery tile wall fruitlessly. He had to let her come soon…right?
When he stood fully and tugged her to him he said, “Kiss me, little sister.”
She kissed him. Flirting with him with her lips, her tongue, her teeth. His strong hand wound in her wet hair and held her close as he bullied her with his tongue. The jet of water continues to hit the bottom of the tub, not doing anyone any good. And Jordan continued to try to ignore the steady demanding pulse of her own desire in her pussy.
Gareth released her and put the shower head back in the holder on the wall.
“Do
not
get yourself off. You may not use that shower head. You may not use your fingers. No toys, no bottles, no vegetables…whatever you could think of to stick up there and get yourself off…don’t.” His gaze was intense and Jordan realized he wasn’t kidding. “Do not have an orgasm until I say so. Got it?”
“But—“
“You said you’d listen. Will you listen?”
She blew out a huge breath, confused and aroused and a little pissed. But his eyes left no room for argument and she nodded once. “Yes.”