Knocked Up by Her Brother's Enemy

The rougher he is with me, the stronger my lust seems to grow. I crave to be mastered, longed to be taken. I must be completely transparent, because just as the thoughts enter my head, he stands up, still inside of me, and pushes me up against the wall.

“Yes, fuck me hard,” I insist.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” he says as his powerful hips slam against my ass, the sound of our slapping skin fills the room with sound.

“Mm hmm, deeper,” I say on a shaky breath as he drills into me.

He fucks me so hard my vision blurs. Can you pass out from pleasure? I feel half out of my mind, like a wild animal. I can’t get enough.

He grabs my arms, holding them behind my back as if they were the reins on a horse. Using them to thrust even deeper.

I cry out, my voice echoing off the walls as my body surges with the electric feeling of an orgasm. He hits it even harder, dismantling my thoughts and forcing me into a cataclysmic orgasm that leaves me slumped against the wall, arms and legs shaking.

His body goes rigid, and with one more hard push into me, he stays there. I can feel his cock jerking, releasing its load, filling me with warmth.

Mac wraps his arms around my waist, kisses the back of my neck. He lays his head on me and I’m holding us both up, it seems.

“I should go,” I tell him.

“Why do you rush off after sex with me? I’m starting to think that’s all you want me for,” he says, mocking offense.

I turn around to face him. He’s covered in sweat, both mine and his. How does he look so good after sex? I know I’m a complete mess. I can feel my hair out of place, sticking up in all directions. My skin is slick with melting foundation, and my under-eyes flaky with smeared mascara. I don’t even want to see the wreck that is my face.

“It’s not like that. It’s just, I still need to unpack and get a few things for the house that I left behind in Oregon.”

“I’ll go with you.”

I open my mouth to protest. But then I stop myself. He wants to spend time with me, and I want to spend time with him. I’m tired of saying no to him. I need to tell Nathan—not about Mac and me being together, but about Mac’s gym not being a regular gym at all. Maybe then this rivalry can finally come to an end, and I might stand a chance at something more than a quick fuck with Mac. The more time I spend with him, the more I realize he’s better than my fantasies ever were.

“Okay,” I say.

As we leave to get into Mac’s car, we pass a truck in the parking lot that looks just like Nathan’s. It can’t be his, though. He’s at work. And why would he be at Mac’s gym anyway? Even though it’s not him, it makes me paranoid anyway. I want to tell Nathan myself, not let him find out I’ve been talking to Mac through someone else. That would just piss him off and make him feel like he can’t trust me.

I spend the day with Mac. We go to the next town over to do the shopping. Even though he doesn’t like keeping us a secret, he understands why it has to be this way for now. Out of town we can be as flirty as we want to be. He even holds my hand as we walk through the mall. I like this. I like it far more than I want to admit. I can feel myself falling harder and harder for him. Is it possible to fall in love with someone in two days? I mean, we’ve been sleeping together for two days, but my infatuation for him spans years, so I’m guessing that’s why it’s so easy for me to fall for him. He didn’t have that same crush on me for all those years, so I’m sure his feelings for me are different than mine. It makes me sad to think he might not be feeling the same way for me, but I try not to let it show.

It’s getting late by the time he takes me back to my car.

Before I get out of the passenger seat, he takes my hand and holds me there. “When can I see you again?”

“I don’t know,” I tell him.

“Come by the gym tomorrow if you can. I’ll take you to lunch.”

“I’ll try. It depends on what happens when I talk to Nathan tonight.”

He looks at me, hopeful. “You’re going to tell him about us?”

“I’m going to tell him about your gym and that he has nothing to worry about. I’ll tell him about us eventually.”

I like that he said “us.” It makes me think this is more than just a fling.

“Text me and let me know how things go,” he says.

“I will.” I kiss him goodbye and go back to my car.

5

When I get home Nathan is already there. He said he wouldn’t be home until six, but it’s not even five thirty. Maybe he got home early to spend time with me.

I go inside and find Nathan sitting at the kitchen table. It’s mostly dark except for the light on above the stove.

“Hi,” I say, dumping my shopping bags on the counter in the kitchen. “I got a few things that you were missing—like actual edible food.”

He still hasn’t spoken to me and he hasn’t moved. I know my brother. There’s something wrong.

“What is it? What happened?” I say.

My first thought goes to my parents. They are getting older and I dread the day that the phone rings and something has happened to one of them.

He stares at me as if he’s contemplating what to say next while he picks at his bottom lip.

“Nathan, I know something’s wrong. Just tell me what it is.”

“I saw you,” he says in a cold, unemotional voice. It’s completely empty. No anger, no sadness. Nothing. It’s almost frightening.

“What do you mean?” I say, my stomach sinking. What exactly did he see? All the horrible scenarios jump through my mind.

“A friend of mine saw you talking to Mac at the grocery store. I told him he was wrong, so I went to the store to see for myself. I saw you get into his car, then go to the pier, and then to his gym. How could you, Wanda? You know how much I hate him.”

Fuck. It’s happening exactly how I hoped it wouldn’t. Now he will see everything I’ve done as a betrayal.

“You’re wrong about Mac, Nathan. He’s not opening a competing gym. His is a rehabilitation center. It’s going to be a place for people to have physical therapy and to recover from traumatic injuries. It’s a completely different kind of business from yours.”

He looks shocked at first by the news, and then some of the tension seems to roll off his rigid shoulders, but the anger is still ever present. That part hasn’t changed.

“I don’t care if he’s a perfect angel, I still don’t want you around him. I don’t trust him.”

I shake my head, dumbfounded by the way he’s acting. “Do you even hear yourself? Do you hear how crazy that sounds? Mac has done nothing but be nice to me. He’s helping people at his business, people who otherwise wouldn’t be able to get the treatment they need because he has a plan to help with their co-pays and insurance issues. He’s asked me to work for him.”

“Work for him?” Nathan says, sounding appalled. “Doing what?”

“He wants me to design the apparel he plans to sell to help out with the patients’ financial assistance. He’s offering me the opportunity to do what I love for a living, make good money, as well as help people. Does he really sound like a terrible person?”

His jaw clinches and he has that familiar pissed off look in his eyes that I know all too well. It doesn’t matter what kind of logic I throw his way, he doesn’t want to hear it. He’s already made up his mind. He’s just as stubborn as my dad always was. How my mom ever put up with both of them in the same house, I’ll never know. Hell, I don’t know how I put up with the both of them all those years. Maybe coming home was a bad idea after all.

Without a word, Nathan storms out of the house, slamming the door on the way out. His truck roars to life seconds later and he peels out of the driveway with a screech of the tires.

There’s a tightness in my chest and heaviness behind my eyes that come just before the tears. I don’t want to cry, but I can’t help it. They start to flow whether I like it or not.

I sit at the ki

tchen table, crying into my hands. I’m so exhausted. It seems like every time something good comes along in my life, something happens to steal it away. I knew Nathan was stubborn, but I never thought he was the kind of person to argue against reason. He knows what I say about Mac is true, and that he was wrong about him, he’s just too full of pride to admit it.

There’s a knock on the front door. I wipe my eyes and look through the peephole, hoping it’s not someone trying to sell something.