Stepbrother With Benefits 17 (Third Season) (11 page)

I
'm supposed
to be angry with Ethan, but it's hard now that I'm sitting next to him. Don't get me wrong, I really am still angry with him, but now that I can see him in front of me, touch him... kiss him? Now that I can be with him like this, it's just easier to be a little less angry.

I don't want him to know that, though. I keep looking over and scowling at him. You see this, Ethan? I'm angry with you! Rawr!

Yes, um... I don't know if I'm very good at this. I'm trying, though. I'm not going to let him off the hook that easily.

It helps that I'm hungry, and I think he's hungry. There's food and it's easy to eat and be quiet, no talking, just the two of us, with me scowling at him and him just kind of looking at me now and then. I think he's being silently contemplative. That's good, because he better be contemplating a lot of things.

I know about most of what happened earlier, but I don't know all of it. I talked with Scarlet for a little bit while I was waiting in the airport. I was going to yell at her, but after she apologized and explained some of what was going on, I changed my mind. I'm going to find out more soon enough. Like I told Ethan before, we're definitely having a conversation after this.

I'm pulling out all the stops, though. I... um... I took a detour on my way over here. I didn't just rush over after getting off the plane. Yes, I could have, but I preferred not to. I had plans, and a part of me wanted to make Ethan wait. I'm not sure if I'm good at this and I don't know exactly what I'm doing as far as this argument is going, but making Ethan wait another hour or so isn't going to kill him.

What I'm going to do next might kill him, though... we'll see how that goes. He's definitely going to squirm, at least. I'm actually kind of excited about it.

So, what was I doing for about an hour before coming over here?

It's a secret. You'll find out soon enough. I'm surprised Ethan hasn't said anything yet. I think he will soon, though. The food's almost done. We've been sharing, back and forth, me taking a bite and placing the fork back in the tray, then him picking it up and taking a bite.

Forgetting myself for a second, I lean my head on his shoulder. I almost sigh. Almost! I almost let out a contented, happy sigh, but then I remember I'm angry and I lift my head up and glare at him like I'm a cat about to scratch his face off.

Rawr!

I'm not letting you off that easy, Ethan.

Y
eah
, so... what the fuck is going on? I don't really know. Did I fall asleep? Am I dreaming? Fuck if I know. I just know that Ashley is here with me and she's eating my food.

I'm not angry about it or anything. I mean, yeah, I only got enough food for myself, but it's still plenty and I think I can do without a full meal tonight. There's vending machines I can grab food from, or else we could order something, too. You have to go down to the front desk to pick up your delivery if you order out, but who cares? It's not that big a deal.

The main thing I'm worried about is whether this is enough for Ashley. Is she hungry? Fuck! Should I order food now? Should I ask her? It's just really fucking hard to talk to her. It's harder because she's right here next to me.

I've been thinking about what I want to say to her all day, but every single time I thought about it I was thinking more along the lines of a text message or phone conversation. I can grovel or whatever the fuck. I will be apologetic, saying sorry all over the fucking place, and I'll mean every single word, but...

I don't know. Apologizing in person is a lot harder. Also, being slapped kind of sucks, but I guess I deserved that one.

Wait. Did I really deserve it? I didn't actually do anything. If anything, it's Scarlet's fault. It's not like I want Ashley to go slap Scarlet, but if we're trying to figure out who to blame here, well...

Uh... nah. I'm changing my mind. It's my fault again. How can I tell? Have you seen the way Ashley is scowling at me? Seriously, holy fuck. First she's quiet, and I think she's warming up to me, then all of a sudden she's looking at me with deadly intent, crazy fucking assassin eyes or something

She's a fucking cat, I swear. You know how you go and pet a cat, and at first it's your best friend, but then if you pet it for too long it'll claw up your arm and look at you like it wants to know what the fuck you think you're doing? That's Ashley right now. I think she's about to forgive me or talk to me or something... anything, really... and then, yeah, this evil fucking scowl.

Ugh.

We're done our food now. Sort of. There's one last bite. I'm not fucking taking it. I know how this works. You want to know the easiest way to piss a girl off? Use up the last of something, or take the last of something, or... anything regarding the last of something. Just don't even fucking do it. They'll kill you, I swear.

"You have the last bite," Ashley says to me, deceptively sweet. If it weren't for the fact that she looks like she's about to kill me, I might believe her.

"Nah, you can have it," I say, mumbling.

"I don't want it," she says, more persistent this time. Holy fuck, calm the fuck down, Princess! "Here. Eat."

She stabs the meat with the fork and then brings it up to my lips. I really don't think opening my mouth is a good idea right now. I think I'm about to get gagged with a piece of steak or stabbed with a fork or something. Who the fuck knows? It's not going to be good, no matter what.

Against my better judgment, I open my mouth. She guides the food in. It's slightly less forceful than I expected. I mean, yeah, she still shoves it in there, but I don't get stabbed or gagged and basically I'm fine.

I'm fine for now. Who the fuck knows what's next?

Throughout all of this, I haven't really been focusing on Ashley. Yeah, so... I've been looking at her, and I can probably tell you every single way she's looked at me throughout our impromptu dinner, but that's just her eyes and facial expressions and whatever the fuck.

Usually, uh... I see more? You know, like hips and breasts and... her tight little fucking body, just begging me to grab it and make her mine.

That's nice and all, and probably important, but I don't even know if she's mine anymore. How fucking depressing is that? Is she just my stepsister again, or is she still my girlfriend?

"We're going to have a conversation now," Ashley says, as simple as that.

"I'm ready," I say, sounding like I'm preparing to take a really hard test or something.

You know how fucking hard tests are sometimes? Pop quizzes are the worst. This is like a relationship test pop quiz or something, with Ashley just randomly showing up out of the blue. I'm pretty sure these aren't going to be multiple choice questions, either.

"Sit in this chair," she says, patting the seat of my desk chair.

I shrug and get up, then move over to the chair. Sassy as fuck, Ashley puts her foot between my legs, pressing hard against the edge of the seat, then pushes me back. The chair rolls away, because it has wheels, because it's a fucking desk chair. Seriously, do I have to explain this? I'm trying to prepare for this fucking relationship test! Leave me alone for a second.

Once I roll a few feet away, Ashley stands up to confront me. I never really had a chance before, but I take in all of her now. Every fucking inch. This is not the good girl Ashley Banks I used to know. I have no fucking clue who this is. Princess? Nah, she's a fucking pissed off Queen now.

She's standing by my bed, letting me let all of this sink in. By all of this, I mean, uh...

"Holy fuck, your breasts are huge," I say.

I didn't really think about that one. It just kind of came out. I'm failing this test, aren't I?

Ashley's lips part, kind of shocked at first, then they curl up into a wicked smirk. Oh fuck, that's not good. I don't know what it is, but I'm pretty fucking sure it's not good.

"Do you like them?" she asks, putting her hands under her breasts, lifting them up so I can see just how fucking massive they are.

Going by her hand size, they're not actually any bigger. They just look bigger than I'm used to. I'm going to be completely honest with you right now... I don't know what's going on. I am intimately aware of every single part of Ashley's anatomy and I really don't remember her breasts being this big. Is it the bra? Is it something else? I have no fucking clue, but they're fun to stare at.

Also, this is a trick question, isn't it? How the fuck do I answer her?

"Ethan?" she says, begging me to answer with a pout of her lips. "Do you?"

"Uh... yes?" I say.

"How about my dress?" she asks, taking a few small steps towards me, sashaying her hips side to side.

Her dress is red, molded to her fucking body like it belongs there and nowhere else. Curves for days, up and down. How the fuck did I not notice this before? Probably because she slapped me. I'm blaming the slap. Then she was sitting next to me while we ate, and also scowling at me.

She's not scowling at me now. I have no idea what she's doing, but it's not scowling. I think this means I'm in even more trouble. The calm before the storm, right? Yeah...

"Your dress looks very nice," I say, taking the sensible approach. This is the first time I've ever taken the sensible approach, but I feel like it's my best option at the moment.

"Nice?" she asks. "That's it? I guess you don't like it that much..."

She turns away from me like she's distressed or disappointed, and... oh fuck, that ass. It's a nice ass. Memories of our anal sex experiment suddenly come rushing back to me. I can't get that night out of my head.

I remember the perfect fucking way her pussy looked, pulsing and quivering while I slowly slid my cock past her rosebud's resistance. I remember the lube I grabbed from my bedside table drawer for that very purpose, all slick and shining. I remember just staying inside her, feeling her clutch against me, her body experiencing something entirely new and realizing she liked it.

It was new to me, too. The whole fucking thing was extreme. Her ass, in that dress, is pretty fucking extreme right now.

The dress looks nice? Uh... no. The dress doesn't look nice. The dress makes her look like the goddess she is and I would worship the fuck out of her with my tongue.

She turns back to me after shaking her ass a little. I'm pretty sure she did that on purpose. I don't know what her angle is here, or what this test is, but I think I'm about to fail even more.

"You look sexy as fuck," I tell her. "Not only do you look sexy as fuck, but I'm really happy we're alone because I'm having a hard time keeping myself from ripping that dress off of you and tossing you on the bed, Princess."

She gives me a wild as fuck, seductive smile, half giggly and half sinful. It's the perfect mix. My cock throbs in my pants, then throbs even more. I... yeah... am I ripping that dress off of her or what?

"Don't move," she says to me. "Close your eyes."

I don't move, but I forget about closing my eyes. She slips away, teetering on high heels I've never seen before. Step, step, step, her body swaying, curves rocking like a fucking ocean, drawing me in. She's a siren, but she doesn't even have to sing to pull me in deeper.

I turn, partly spinning in my chair, following her movement. This mostly results in me getting an up close and personal view of her ass as she walks by, which I'm very tempted to swat. Or maybe grab her hips and pull her into my lap. Lift her dress up and pull her panties aside while I unbutton my pants, let out my cock, and...

She sees me watching her, my eyes obviously not closed, and she spins on her feet with expert precision. Then she slaps me. Yeah, seriously, holy fuck. It's not as hard as before, but still.

"Close your eyes!" she hisses at me. "Now, Ethan! And turn back towards the bed. I'm still mad at you. You're in trouble."

Well, fuck.

I close my eyes and turn my chair back towards the bed. I can't see her, but I can hear her moving around. I have no fucking clue what she's doing until I hear the sound of duct tape. It's got that obvious sort of pulling sound, you know? I can't see it, because, uh... my eyes are closed, but it sounds like a lot of tape. She rips that piece off, then pulls another one and rips that one off, too.

Step, step, step, she's coming back to me, heels tapping on the floor. Yeah, I can't see it, but I can remember what her ass looks like in that dress, and that's enough for now.

This memory serves me well, except before I know it I'm tied up. Or taped up. Whatever. Who the fuck cares? I'm bound to the chair, my forearms duct taped to the armrests. The tape is long enough to wrap around four times. Ashley works quick, trapping one of my arms before I can do anything. She goes to work on the other one while I'm staring at my taped up arm. I struggle with the first while she tapes the second, and, uh...

Yeah, so, this is the first time I've ever been taped to a chair while a sultry as fuck vixen in a red dress who may or may not have a death wish for me stands in front of me with her somehow suddenly huge looking breasts...

Yes, that's a really long sentence. It's a really long thought, too. I don't know what the fuck you want me to do about it. I'm taped to a chair. I can't do much about anything right now.

"Oh," Ashley says, as if she almost forgot something. "I'm here to punish you, by the way."

"Sure, I guess," I say. "But why did you duct tape me to a chair?"

"It's part of the punishment. I want you to tell me what happened first, though. Why did you do that with Scarlet, Ethan?"

Fucking... fuck. Yeah, uh... this is what I've been dreading. Because, real talk for a second, I have no fucking clue how to explain it to her. Everything I can think of sounds like bullshit. If it doesn't even make sense to me, how the fuck can I expect it to make sense to Ashley?

I guess all I can do is fucking try, but I don't think I'm doing myself any favors here.

"I swear it was an accident," I tell her. "It wasn't what it looked like, Princess. I... alright, here's how it started. I went to take a shower, and then I came back like I usually do, just wearing a towel and carrying my stuff."

"Yes," Ashley says, interrupting me. "Without a shirt on?"

"Yeah, I might have fucked that one up," I say. "But, for real, I think it should be fine to walk around without a shirt on after taking a shower. It's not like I was hanging around or anything. I came straight back to my room. I was going to get dressed in here."

"Except you didn't," Ashley points out. "You got more naked. With Scarlet."

"That's because she's crazy," I say. It's true. She's fucking crazy. "She wanted to talk to me about something, and she's been kind of confused about something else, then she saw something I was writing and she thought it was for her even though it wasn't, and--"

"Shhh," Ashley says, shushing me. "One thing at a time, Ethan. What did she want to talk to you about?"

"There's an art exhibit. It's for her art school thing. I have no fucking idea how it works, but I guess this weekend it's at your school, and she thinks part of it could help out with getting back at Jake."

"Alright," Ashley says, nodding and smiling a little. I wish she'd smile a lot, but we're not that far along yet. "What's she confused about?"

"Uh... I don't know if I should tell you. It's kind of private?"

"I'm not going to tell anyone," she says. "If you don't tell me, I'm going to assume it's really bad, though. I'm not saying that to make you feel like you have to tell me. If you still think you can't tell me, then I'll accept that. I won't like it, but I'll accept it. I just don't know if we can move forward from this. If you said it, and you said she's confused, then it seems like it's important to what happened."

I need to think about this. Is it important? Well, yeah. Actually, I think it's the entire reason Scarlet did what she did. Or maybe it was my love letter, because I'm fucking amazing. I guess it could be a combination. Who the fuck knows?

"It's difficult," I tell her, speaking softly. "It's kind of fucking weird, too. Just... I swear to God this is true, Princess. I'm not making this up. As a final project for her art major or something, Scarlet and Caleb are making a porn movie together. Uh... erotic video. It's artistic as fuck, I guess."

"I know," Ashley says. "Scarlet told me. I just wanted to hear you say it, too."