About Last Night Read online

  It’s true, my sex drive got the best of me. But it wasn’t just about owning her physically, no matter how plush and sexy that body of hers is. This time, it wasn’t just all about my cock. It was about my heart, too. I couldn’t wait to make love to Missy again, and to please her in every way a goddess deserves to be pleased. I wanted to hear her sweet moans singing my name as I made her pulse, and to feel her small hands clasping me tight. I wanted to be there when she recovered, and to worship everything about the woman.

  Because nothing has ever felt more right in my entire life. I’ve been with plenty of women in the past, and none of them compared to the curvy girl. Other women were shallow, materialistic, and insecure. By contrast, Missy is giving and kind. She organized much of the engagement brunch, and comforts her mom when Nancy’s in need. The innocent girl is learning more about the world, and I want to be the man to show her every new experience.

  In that instant, everything I’ve accomplished – my fortune, my trophies, my fame and reputation – are empty without her by my side. In general, I’ve always got a snappy answer to every challenge. But this time, driving home with my equally heartbroken father in the passenger seat, there’s one question I can’t stop running through my mind: what comes next in this complicated game of love and family relationships?

  13

  Missy

  Tears pour down my face as I run out of the house and down the street. I can’t remember the last time I felt so horrible. I’m embarrassed that Jim and my mom caught us having sex. I’m ashamed I was doing it with my stepbrother-to-be. I feel guilty about ruining my mother’s engagement. And most of all, I’m horrified about how I feel about Trevor.

  What was I thinking? He’s a handsome, rich, and devastatingly sexy man. But he’s also my stepbrother, whom I met at a dirty sex party. We have literally made love in public with other people watching us. That doesn’t have the hallmarks of a permanent relationship.

  Permanent relationship? What am I thinking?

  “Missy, get it together,” I warn myself. God, there’s so much confusion. I love my mother, and I’m sorry that she’s been so unlucky when it comes to romance. But I can’t keep letting her drama become my drama because that’s not how things are supposed to work between a mother and a daughter. She’s supposed to be the one who’s there for me when I get my heart broken, and not the other way around. Somehow, our roles flipped over the years.

  “I matter,” I say to myself. Hearing the words out loud fills me with courage. “I matter, and I deserve to be loved.”

  I stop running, dropping to a walk. I wipe the tears from my face and sniffle a bit. But I’m not a little girl - I’m a grown woman. And whatever I’ve added to this mess, it’s my job to fix it.

  I start walking in the other direction, back towards the house. My mind turns furiously with what I’m going to say when I get home. I’m going to look Trevor right in those beautiful blue eyes and tell him, “I was wrong. I was a fool to say no to you, when you’re everything I’ve ever wanted. And I want you to know, from the bottom of my heart, that I’ll go away with you –"

  Suddenly the roar of sports car’s motor rips through our quiet street. Trevor’s Maserati tears down a side street, and then squeals around a corner sharply. It’s clear that he doesn’t see me and I gawk at the vision.

  He’s gone.

  I feel like the bottom has just dropped out of my world.

  I can’t go home now. I know I should be there, helping my mother through her latest heartbreak, but I just don’t have it in me any more. I have nothing left to give.

  Turning on my heel, I run to Jane’s house. Oddly, she’s standing on the doorstep when I get there.

  “Hey,” she says as she looks down the street with a confused expression on her face. “I just saw someone tear down the street in a sports car. I figured it was Trevor taking you for a ride, but I guess not?”

  “Shit,” I start, and then collapse into a sobbing wreck.

  “Hey. Hey!” says Jane with great concern. She runs out of the house and takes me by the shoulders, leading me inside. “Come inside. I’ve got triple mocha ice cream and all the time in the world to listen.”

  We stumble to her room upstairs before collapsing on her bed.

  “Trevor’s gone,” I sob. “He asked me to run away with him and I said no.”

  Jane puts her hand to my forehead, feeling my temperature. “What?” she asks. “What happened?”

  Hiccupping and crying, I pour out the whole sorry episode for her – the dinner, the sex in the kitchen, our parents finding us, the fight, and finally Trevor begging him to run away with him.

  And also, how I said no.

  “I don’t know what came over me,” I sniffle. “I thought I was doing the right thing by standing by my mom. But now, everything is turned on its head. Did I seriously just screw up my life? Oh shit!”

  “Hey,” Jane soothes as she embraces me. “I saw how that guy looked at you at the last party. Even a good time girl like me can recognize something real. That was more than just sex, Missy.” She holds me by the shoulders and looks me firmly in the eye. “That man loves you, and love means forgiveness.”

  What? Does he really love me? It seems impossible. We haven’t known each other very long, and have broken every single rule along the way.

  “Are you listening to me? That man was going to be my stepbrother!” I almost shout. “There are practically laws against that, Jane. We could go to jail.”

  Jane picks idly at a hangnail.

  “Um, I’m the one who’s the paralegal? That means I know a little something about the law, and let me tell you, there’s no rule that says two adults who aren’t related by blood can’t do the nasty dance together – or fall in love. You’re being too hard on yourself,” she continues as she pats my hand. “You fell like a ton of bricks for a handsome dude and got a little carried away. Everybody’s got a story like that – if they’re lucky, that is. That’s just life, and not an impeachable offense.”

  I stare at her with my mouth open.

  “Really? I just don’t know,” I say. Jane clucks and hands me a tissue while I dab at my eyes. This whole situation is so crazy that I have to laugh a little.

  “Who knew?” is my half-sob. “I knew I wanted a memorable summer back home. I just didn’t think it would be this memorable.”

  Jane smiles saucily, preening a bit.

  “Yeah. How does that ancient curse go? ‘May all your dreams come true’?” She laughs and gives my hand a warm squeeze. “Feeling better? Ready for some of that triple mocha ice cream now?”

  I nod my head. Jane gets two bowls and scoops out a big serving for me. “Remember the time when we were teens and we sneaked that whole tub of strawberry ice cream out of my mom’s freezer?”

  “Yeah,” I laugh with a hiccup. “And we ate the whole thing in the basement while watching that monster movie marathon.”

  “And you screamed and threw the whole carton in the air when the mummy jumped out,” chortles Jane. “It took me months to get that pink splat out of the drop ceiling panels!”

  Even though my heart still aches, I have to laugh at the silly memory.

  “You’re a good friend, Jane,” I say a little tearily. “But I still don’t know what to do. I mean, this is all so confusing. What the hell? I’ve had sex with my stepbrother, and want even more? Or wait, I guess he’s not my stepbrother anymore because our parents broke it off? Does that count?”

  I’m so confused that the ice cream spoon drops out of my hand. Fortunately, Jane has a dishrag on hand to clean up the mess.

  “Listen, my friend. Life is confusing. I know you want answers, but sometimes there aren’t any right way. Heck, sometimes there are no answers whatsoever, and it doesn’t matter how long you give it. So why not just go easy on yourself for now? I didn’t want to mention this, since I didn’t think you’d be interested, but um, there is another Club Elegance party tomorrow. This time it’s going to be at the C
osmo Lounge – you know, that new swanky cocktail place that opened just outside of town? The real action’s going to be in the club room upstairs, but they’ve also rented out the bar downstairs. I think you should come.”

  I shake my head sadly.

  “No, there’s no way. I mean, I’m a hot mess. I’d be the Debbie Downer at the gathering.”

  Jane tries to press me to go some more.

  “No, this is exactly what you need,” she says. “I mean, who knows what’s going to happen with Trevor? You might never even see him again.” That thought makes my heart clamp with pain, and Jane immediately speaks, seeing the pain on my face. “I’m not saying you have to meet another guy right away, but at least go to a party to cheer yourself up.”

  I shake my head sorrowfully.

  “I just can’t. I’m really sorry,” I say in a soft voice. My friend sighs.

  “That’s what I figured,” she says. “Forget I mentioned it. Right now, what you need most of all is a good night’s rest, homegirl.” She stands up and offers her hand. “Come on, sleeping beauty. Let’s tuck you in.”

  Sighing, I get up with creaky bones. I didn’t think tiny Jane would have any pajamas that would fit me, but it turns out she just bought a long silk nightgown from the local vintage clothing store.

  “I was going to trim it to my size for a dress,” she says, “but you can have it.” When she steps out of the room, I slide into the nightgown. It fits me perfectly, and it’s absolutely beautiful. Feeling the soft silk against my skin cheers me up a little.

  My friend re-enters the room with a folded towel and washcloth. “Do you want to take a shower before bed?” she asks.

  I flash back to just a few hours ago, to when Trevor treated me to a pussy full of hot, wet cum. My inner thighs are still a little sticky from that hot pound, and I blush. I guess the prudent thing would be to take a bath now and forget about him. But it’s hard because I want to savor those last lingering memories of when we were together, and to enjoy the sticky trail dripping down my thigh. Even thinking of him turns me on, although now those feelings are mixed in with a lot of sadness.

  “Tomorrow morning,” I promise Jane. “I’ll be ready to clean up and start fresh tomorrow morning.”

  “Suit yourself,” she chrips. She puts the towel and washcloth on the chair near her bed. “You take this bed. I’ll take the pullout in the living room. Unless you’re so lonely you need me to spoon you tonight? I don’t mind,” she says with a cheeky grin.

  “I’ll be okay,” I smile despite myself. “Thanks though.”

  Jane smiles and steps out of the room, closing the door behind her. “Nighty night,” she calls.

  I climb into Jane’s bed and turn out the light. Her well-loved stuffed tiger Mr. Wubbles is laying on the pillow next to me.

  “Okay, Mr. Wubbles,” I say. “Looks like it’s just you and me tonight.” I give the threadbare tiger a quick squeeze, even though I feel a little silly doing it. It does make me feel better, though.

  I lay on my back and stare up at the dark ceiling. But the instant I take a deep breath, I start to cry again. I don’t want to start crying again. I just want to get some sleep and forget today ever happened. But my body’s tactile memory suddenly feels Trevor’s tongue darting over my hard and eager clit. I remember the weight of his strong, taut body on me as the powerful edge of his hips pound into me. I remember how the swell of his cock stretched me to my limits, and filled me up in a way I came to crave. To think I was afraid of what that magnificent cock could do to me, once upon a time. Little did I know I could gush a river of pleasure when he hit my sweet spots before taking me to seventh heaven.

  Now I’m afraid I’m never going to feel the exquisite throb of his shuddering, powerful orgasm inside me. And I know I’ll never hear him whisper my name again. I know what my mother would say - that there’s always another man on the horizon. But I’m not like Nancy. I still believe in a “one and only,” and what if that man is Trevor?

  I mouth a silent prayer at the ceiling just before I drift into sleep

  “Please,” I say, “Please don’t let this be the end.”

  14

  Trevor

  When we get home Jim doesn’t say anything to me. Instead, my dad gets out of the car stiffly and walks past me, into his house. He’s disappointed in me, I know. But he’s also hurting from the broken engagement. Shit.

  My dad’s not going to want my help right now. Jim is like me, stoic and strong. His attitude is, “Leave me alone, I’ll solve this by myself.”

  But it still shakes me to see him hurting like this. Everything I know about being a man, I learned from him. But right now we’re just two heartbroken fools at a loss for what to do next.

  Plus, it kills me to not be able to fix this problem. Usually not seeing an immediate solution to a challenge just makes me more determined to wrestle it to the ground. But sometimes, there really are no obvious answers. No matter how I try to wrap my head around the situation, it slips away from me like an eel. I can’t grasp what happened, or think of what comes next. Shit.

  Missy looked so beautiful staring up at me with those big, pleading eyes. I don’t think I’d ever perceived a woman’s beauty so clearly, from the long, dark lashes to the sensuous curve of her mouth. For one fleeting second I hoped that the load I’d just shot into her would amount to more than a hot stolen session between lovers. I wanted that load to make her pregnant. I wanted my baby inside her. I want to be the father to her child – our child.

  What the fuck? I mean, I’ve never wanted kids before, much less with any specific woman. But with Missy, it feels right. I’d give anything to see that plump form go rounder still, with my baby kicking inside. I’d love to see her give birth, opening her legs before bringing my child into the world.

  Oh shit. Have I gone insane? This is a huge departure from the usual Trevor Ellis. But somehow, I know Missy’s changed me. She’s made me see all that’s beautiful and giving in the world, and being with her is the only happiness I want now.

  There’s a dead tree in my father’s backyard. It’s a longleaf pine that never quite found its rooting in the ground. It grew a few feet taller than me before just giving up and becoming a hollowed-out piece of bark. I’ve eyed it every time I’ve visited, wondering why my dad doesn’t just bite the bullet one Saturday and call someone over to chop it down.

  Perfect. This will keep me busy instead of mooning over my pathetic thoughts. I stride quickly to the shed, and it only takes me a few moments to find the axe I’m looking for. I’m not asking my dad permission because if he sees me from the window, he’ll to understand. Either this tree is coming down, or I’m going to explode with heartache.

  “Fuck!” I swing the axe as hard as I can into the tree’s trunk. The fact that my swing merely shakes the tree’s few remaining needles makes me even more determined. I swing at the tree like a man possessed, without a plan or reason. The strokes of the axe blade gouge long marks into the trunk. I chop and chop until sweat breaks over my brow and my muscles burn. I don’t stop and can’t stop. It’s either feel the pain of the physical labor, or the pain of heartbreak. The harder I swing the axe, the more I’m distracted from thinking about Missy’s beautiful body, and the kindness in her eyes.

  Finally, with a terrible, tearing crack, the tree splinters and falls with a thud. I stand over it, panting, like it’s an enemy I’ve vanquished.

  I’ve come to my senses enough to chop the tree up into cords of firewood like how a lumberjack would do, and not a madman. At least this way, the wood will be useful. I stack the logs length-wise on the chopping block one at a time and split each one with a mighty blow. I stay out until it’s almost midnight, with only the glow of the moon lighting my task.

  And then, I run out of wood to chop. Shit.

  I throw the axe down on the ground. My hands are raw with callouses and I’m panting with the effort of physical exertion. I feel better, but just barely.

  I look up at the
house. It’s dark except for a light in a narrow basement window. That’s where my dad’s mancave is. I know Jim’s down there, probably watching football from the comfort of the big recliner he’s had since I was a kid. If I were him, I wouldn’t want to be disturbed. I know he’s fixing things the only way he knows right now.

  It’s time for me to go.

  I climb back into the Maserati. I’ll go back to the hotel tonight, and then tomorrow, I’ll return this car and get my BMW back from the dealership. And after that? Who knows? There are so many impossible situations in the world, and I’m stuck right in the middle of one of them. Me, in love with my stepsister? It’s like a soap opera come to life.

  I peel out of the driveway with a roar of the engine and a squeal of the tires. I should be planning my next steps, but all I can think about is the curvy girl I’ve so carelessly lost.

  15

  Trevor

  Sleep evades me that night. I toss and turn until the clock says it’s 5 am. Fuming, I stare at the red numbers on the alarm and then sit up. Clearly, it’s pointless to try and get any rest and like a zombie, I head to the shower.

  The best thing I can do for myself right now is try and get things back to routine. Time can’t stop just because my heart is broken. The stock markets are still open, the sun is rising and setting, and everyone is going about their business as usual.

  But somehow, I’m stuck in a rut. In the shower, I remember the scent of Missy’s skin and the way her luscious thighs wrapped around me. I remember the feel of her hard, aroused nipples under my palms as I kneaded her full breasts. The way she threw her head back and moaned – shyly that first time we made love, as if she didn’t know she was allowed to make so much noise. But every time we did it, she grew bolder and hungrier. Missy owned her pleasure, and I would have loved fifty more years of those moans and cries of pleasure. I would have loved to wipe those happy tears from her cheeks every time we made love for years to come.