She’s silent a moment. “I was angry at first, because we needed her help. I couldn’t care for Daddy and go to school at the same time. But over time…I don’t know, I became glad for her, that she found what she wanted. I decided the anger wasn’t useful. And now…”
“What?”
“I think I see her as more of a long-lost friend, rather than a mother,” she whispers. “Is that terrible?”
“No, baby. Nothing you think or feel is terrible.”
She sighs in relief. “I just don’t much have the need to tell her secrets or ask her advice. I learned how to do everything on my own and stopped needing her. I don’t know how to start again, even though I can tell she wants me to.”
“Cate.” I sit up, wishing more than ever before that she was sitting in front of me. Better yet, in my lap. So I could rock her, hold her tight. “This situation is hard for you. You’re the one who gets to decide how to handle it. Okay?”
“Okay,” she whispers. “I’m sorry for talking your ear off. You’ve probably had a really long day and here I am clobbering you with celebrity factoids and girl feelings.”
Mainly the day was long because I couldn’t see you.
“I love talking to you,” I say gruffly, against my better judgment.
Listening to her soft inhales on the other end of the phone, my cock starts to harden and I have no choice but to reach down and massage myself, like a depraved bastard. One who can’t stop lusting after his stepsister.
“I love talking to you, too,” she says breathily. “Tristan?”
“Yes, Cate.”
“That show came on again,” she whispers. “With the kissing. Remember?”
Jesus, just hearing her say the word kissing out loud has me lowering my zipper and reaching inside, tracing the thick line of my erection. “What about it, baby?”
Several beats pass, her breaths sawing in and out in my ear. “When I watch them kissing and t-touching, it makes me feel funny. For a long time after I see it.”
I press the phone face down on my bed, so the receiver won’t pick up my groan. But this is the point of no return, isn’t it? I’ve already been pushed past the edge. No way to stop myself from guiding us deeper into forbidden territory. “Do you know how to touch yourself?” I ask. “Until that funny feeling goes away?”
“No.”
My head falls back, lust beating like wings in my loins. “FaceTime me, baby. I’ll help.”
* * *
Cate
Am I crazy admitting these things to Tristan?
He’s already stayed away for a whole week. If this pushes him further away, it would kill me. But I need someone to talk to about this. This…torturous tickle between my legs. For some reason, I can’t bring myself to broach the subject with my mother. She already looks at me like I’m some kind of science project.
Tristan told me to FaceTime him and thank goodness I learned how to do that yesterday. I press the button now and his face comes up, handsome, unshaven and painted in shadows. Eyes heavy lidded. Behind him is a headboard. He’s in his bedroom? That fact alone brings that tickle back with a vengeance, makes me feel flushed and overwrought. The way I felt when we kissed on the couch, his large body pressing me down.
“Hi,” I murmur, as if we haven’t already been talking for ten minutes.
“Hi.” His tongue travels along the seam of his mouth. “God, Cate, you look gorgeous.”
“Thank you.” My cheeks heat at the compliment. “How are you going to, um…help me from there?”
“Christ, I shouldn’t be doing this.” He laughs without humor. “But if the alternative is driving over there and fucking you in person, this is the lesser of two evils, right?”
I don’t know how to answer that, so I hold my breath and wait, praying he doesn’t decide to end the call. Praying he doesn’t think better of helping me.
“Go to the bedroom,” Tristan rasps. “Take off your panties and put the phone somewhere I can see you. All of you.”
I’ve been sitting on the couch and I shove to my feet now, breathless to reach the bedroom. Once I’m there, I turn in a circle, looking for a place to put the phone. After a failed attempt to balance it against a pillow, I prop it against the lamp on my side table. I can see myself in the small rectangle on the bottom right-hand corner of the screen.
I peel off my panties to the tune of my stepbrother’s groan. Without underwear, I’m wearing nothing but a loose crop top that doesn’t even reach my belly button and he leans forward, his breath turning shallow while he inspects me on the screen.
I notice a fleshy smacking noise for the first time, coming from Tristan’s end of the line, but I’m too balanced on razor wire, on his next move, to address it.