Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Purpose surges through my chest like never before.
Amy. Baseball. College.
Nothing has made me feel like I feel in this exact moment.
I lift the covers and she scoots over to give me room. Once I slide beneath the sheets, she claws desperately at me. Drawing her into my arms, I hug her to my bare chest. Her hair smells like lavender and it’s a soothing scent—so different from Amy’s expensive products I’m used to. I inhale my sister and run comforting circles with my fingertips along her back. Her tears soak my neck and chest, but they’re subsiding.
It’s up to me to heal her.
This is something I can do.
She settles and her breathing evens out. Pride thunders through me. I kiss her hair and hold her tight. In my arms, she doesn’t feel like my sister. She feels like a tiny piece of the Hale heart that’s left. My piece isn’t much bigger now that our parents are gone. But together, we can be something. We can survive and fucking thrive. I just know it.
Her body feels so frail. I don’t want her to break apart, so I hold her as close as I can, kissing her hair over and over again. We’re pushed together, our bodies touching where they’ve never before touched, and it feels right. I’ve been such a selfish prick keeping my sister at a distance. All along, we could have been gaining strength from each other. I could have felt some peace when my world felt so fucking pointless—all I had to do was hold her.
As her breathing evens out finally and sleep steals her, I’m aware of how much my sister has grown into a woman. She’ll be eighteen in a few months. It’s strange to me to hold her so intimately. It makes me realize her body isn’t much different than Amy’s. Her breasts are soft pushed against me. Long, slender, smooth legs tangle with mine beneath the sheets. Our pelvises are pressed together, making my cock aware of our nearness. Very much a woman.
Images of her dating haunt me.
She doesn’t need anyone in her fragile state.
Rylie just needs me to hold her. That’s all she’ll ever need.
My palm finds her ass over her shorts and I pull her closer. Images quick and dirty flit through my mind and it’s a reprieve from the aching sadness I’ve been sucker punched with for the past few hours. As I drift to sleep, I allow myself to dwell in those thoughts. To blame my grief for wondering what our bodies would feel like naked and pressed together. Would we feel whole then?
My cock thinks so. I’m thankful she’s asleep and doesn’t notice my arousal. I’m dizzied and confused at my physiological response to her coupled with the dangerous path my mind has gone on. Is this what happens when someone loses two people they love? Do they lose their fucking mind?
“I’m sick.” Her words are sleepy and uttered in a whisper. She grows tense as reality tries to steal her from her slumber.
I squeeze her ass and rub my length against her stomach, just once, murmuring soft assurances to her. The rigidness from her body melts away and she becomes soft again in my arms. Tomorrow, I’ll blame my curious, needy touches on the despair, but tonight it seems to help make my world not so dark.
Seeking out her ear, hidden by her hair, I whisper, “I’m your cure.”
She shivers and clutches on tightly.
I’m your cure.
“I’m your attorney. Anything you say to me is privileged information,” Bradley Kent says from across the table. “Tell me all the details. Even the ones you’re embarrassed of.”
So he’s heard.
“We got into a fight because they accused my sister and me of incest.” I stare down at the table that’s worn and dirty.
“Accused? Were the accusations true?”
My heart sinks. If he knows, Amy knows. Everyone knows. “Nope.” Keeping my word to Rylie, I lift my gaze and pin him with a hard stare. “I fought with my uncle. That much I can’t deny, but the things they’re accusing me of are untrue.”
His eyes that look exactly like Amy’s widen in surprise. “Okay.”
“We lost our parents and spend a lot of time consoling each other. But to accuse my sister and me of sleeping together is fucking ridiculous,” I snap.
He holds up both hands in defense, even though I can see the relief in his stare. “I believe you. At this point, we’re just waiting for them to press charges. You were in their home, so claiming self-defense is a moot point in someone else’s home. But considering this would be your first offense, you won’t be looking for more than a slap on the wrist.”
I grit my teeth. “And their accusations?”
“If there were proof, which there won’t be since it didn’t happen, any judge with sense in his head would throw it out. Hearsay doesn’t stand up in court.” He frowns. “However, if there were to be any proof provided or testimonies…” he trails off. “You could be doing some hard time. Both of you could.”