in. He nudged his nose into my forehead until I lifted my face, and he kissed me. Every other time he had been almost hesitant when kissing me, but now he seemed unabashed.
He bit and sucked and flicked his tongue over mine until I was gasping for breath and flushed. I wasn't hard, or aroused, I was simply enjoying his touch, which he didn't seem to mind. But then it got even better when he slowed, taking his time exploring. I melted into his touch. As I started to get sleepy, it shifted to soft touches, his fingers tracing the lines of muscle on my abs, while I explored the cut of his hips that dipped into his jeans. There were so many places I had always wanted to touch him but never been able to. It wasn't even sexual so much as possessive. I loved every line of his body. It was all so visually familiar. I wanted to know how it felt.
My fingers moved higher to trace over his ribs, and he started to chuckle. "I forgot you were ticklish." I laughed and attacked the spot again.
He fought me off, whispering, "Hey, I don't want to wake Charlie! Cut it out."
"Why not, who cares?"
He sighed and rolled to his back. "She's been such a mood dampener. I think she's jealous of us."
"What has she done that makes you think she is jealous?"
"It's little things, hard to explain. But I can just feel it coming off her in waves." He pulled me closer, and I laid my head on his chest. The alcohol seemed to lubricate the pent-up thoughts he had been hiding.
"Can you try and explain it to me?" I hadn't seen her do anything that would spell jealousy. If I thought about it, Sam was acting jealous. He kept coming home from class early and checking up on Charlie in our usual alone time. He had also pulled back on the contact with us, to the point Char had said something. Could he be projecting his feelings onto her?
"I can't. It's just this feeling I have."
I pulled out of his arms and sat up.
"Hey—"
"Sam, this is the only time you're going to open up, and I know it's because you've had way too much to drink."
He scrunched up his brow, wobbling as he sat up, too. "This ought to be good." His accent was so thick when he drank that it almost drew me away from the point.
"I think you're the jealous one, and you're pushing those feelings on to Char because you don't know how to deal with them."
"You're being stupid. I pushed for this. I wanted you." He waved me off, but I could see it in his eyes. There was a glint of something there.
I scooted closer to him. "You don't like her wanting me, do you?"
Anger flashed over his expression. "Drop it, Steve."
"No, you don't let me hide shit from you. You don't get to either. I think her wanting me scares you." It was all clicking into place.
He got up and balled his hands into fists. I started to flinch and caught myself, but it was enough. He had seen it.
"Are you fucking kidding me? You think I would hurt you?" He turned his back on me. "I have fucking always protected you."
My stomach dropped, and bile rose in my throat. "Sam..."
He held up a hand as he stalked toward the kitchen. "Don't you even fucking dare."
"It's a goddamn instinctive reaction. I didn't mean to..."
He grabbed a bottle out of the freezer and went for a glass from the dishwasher. "What do you think of me? Now you're scared of me?"
After pouring himself a full glass, he braced both hands on the counter and let his head hang forward.
"Sam." I got to my feet and took a step toward the kitchen.
"Go. Away. Steve." He picked up the glass and downed the contents.
I bit down on my lip ring and shifted. "I'm going to get Char..."
He turned on me and flung his arm. I dropped to the ground, flashing back.
****
I walked in from school having heard the argument from the street when I got off the school bus. Once inside the house, I clutched my bag in front of me edging towards the hall, praying they wouldn't notice me. I took step after step, inching to the side, blocking my face with one arm and using my backpack to
He bit and sucked and flicked his tongue over mine until I was gasping for breath and flushed. I wasn't hard, or aroused, I was simply enjoying his touch, which he didn't seem to mind. But then it got even better when he slowed, taking his time exploring. I melted into his touch. As I started to get sleepy, it shifted to soft touches, his fingers tracing the lines of muscle on my abs, while I explored the cut of his hips that dipped into his jeans. There were so many places I had always wanted to touch him but never been able to. It wasn't even sexual so much as possessive. I loved every line of his body. It was all so visually familiar. I wanted to know how it felt.
My fingers moved higher to trace over his ribs, and he started to chuckle. "I forgot you were ticklish." I laughed and attacked the spot again.
He fought me off, whispering, "Hey, I don't want to wake Charlie! Cut it out."
"Why not, who cares?"
He sighed and rolled to his back. "She's been such a mood dampener. I think she's jealous of us."
"What has she done that makes you think she is jealous?"
"It's little things, hard to explain. But I can just feel it coming off her in waves." He pulled me closer, and I laid my head on his chest. The alcohol seemed to lubricate the pent-up thoughts he had been hiding.
"Can you try and explain it to me?" I hadn't seen her do anything that would spell jealousy. If I thought about it, Sam was acting jealous. He kept coming home from class early and checking up on Charlie in our usual alone time. He had also pulled back on the contact with us, to the point Char had said something. Could he be projecting his feelings onto her?
"I can't. It's just this feeling I have."
I pulled out of his arms and sat up.
"Hey—"
"Sam, this is the only time you're going to open up, and I know it's because you've had way too much to drink."
He scrunched up his brow, wobbling as he sat up, too. "This ought to be good." His accent was so thick when he drank that it almost drew me away from the point.
"I think you're the jealous one, and you're pushing those feelings on to Char because you don't know how to deal with them."
"You're being stupid. I pushed for this. I wanted you." He waved me off, but I could see it in his eyes. There was a glint of something there.
I scooted closer to him. "You don't like her wanting me, do you?"
Anger flashed over his expression. "Drop it, Steve."
"No, you don't let me hide shit from you. You don't get to either. I think her wanting me scares you." It was all clicking into place.
He got up and balled his hands into fists. I started to flinch and caught myself, but it was enough. He had seen it.
"Are you fucking kidding me? You think I would hurt you?" He turned his back on me. "I have fucking always protected you."
My stomach dropped, and bile rose in my throat. "Sam..."
He held up a hand as he stalked toward the kitchen. "Don't you even fucking dare."
"It's a goddamn instinctive reaction. I didn't mean to..."
He grabbed a bottle out of the freezer and went for a glass from the dishwasher. "What do you think of me? Now you're scared of me?"
After pouring himself a full glass, he braced both hands on the counter and let his head hang forward.
"Sam." I got to my feet and took a step toward the kitchen.
"Go. Away. Steve." He picked up the glass and downed the contents.
I bit down on my lip ring and shifted. "I'm going to get Char..."
He turned on me and flung his arm. I dropped to the ground, flashing back.
****
I walked in from school having heard the argument from the street when I got off the school bus. Once inside the house, I clutched my bag in front of me edging towards the hall, praying they wouldn't notice me. I took step after step, inching to the side, blocking my face with one arm and using my backpack to
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