Weird How That Is

Melinda took a deep breath as she came to the closed door before her, then looked up at Shane, smiling to hide how nervous she was, and hoping he couldn't tell that the expression might as well have been hung on her face by hooks, for all the honesty it held.

He could tell.

"Babe, you're acting like it's your parents I'm meeting." The tall man shook his golden-haired head, his own smile nothing but amused. "Heh, and they're, like, Amish or something, and hate all outsiders." He kept going. "And there's a loaded shotgun..."

"All right, all right." Melinda went to give him a playful punch on the arm, but found her hand massaging his bicep instead. Then her other hand joined it.

Fuck, I'm gonna have to stop just... slavering over him, or Mike's gonna lose it.

"Baby, you see right through me. No more false grins, but... well, I mean..." She swallowed. "Okay, here it is; my big brother pretty much raised me because our parents were shit, and he

is

basically a father to me, and his wife, my sister-in-law... well obviously my sister-in-law... don't know why I had to explain that... she's closer to a mom too because they've been together for—"

"Jesus, calm that lush tushy down, girl." Shane slapped his palm against that selfsame derrière playfully. Then, a bit less playfully, didn't remove it. Did, in fact, start squeezing as he spoke. "I'm a lifelong charmer. I'll be fine." His grin deepened. "

You'll

be fine... even more than usual, you goddamn smokin' hot piece, you."

Melinda blushed, giggled, and, for the ten-thousandth time, distantly wondered just how this man had turned her Master's-Degree-Owning ass into pudding just by flashing a pair of sparkly blue eyes.

But they are so, so sparkly...

She smiled up at him and flexed her incredibly toned glute while trying to tell herself it wasn't only because her lover expected it, then felt a bit despondent when that internal pep talk didn't do the job.

Lord, Mike really is going to kill him when he sees what I'm—

"Mellie! Oh my god, what are you doing here! This is fantastic!"

The house's door was barely cracked before the ebullient exclamation rang out, and that exclamation only beat, by a hair, the exclaimer throwing herself into Melinda's hastily raised arms. "Whoa there, filly! You're gonna knock me on my ass, and you know I work hard on that damned thing!" Melinda laughed giddily, despite the words. "Let your poor auntie breathe for a second, I'm begging you."

The fire-topped head pulled away from Melinda, and the cheeks beneath flushed a nice rose to complement it. "Sorry, I'm... I was surprised." Stephanie adjusted her smart little glasses and stepped back, obviously chagrined, but still grinning from ear-to-ear. "You didn't call or anything, so I had no idea it'd be you on the other side... on... oh, I, uh, guess not

just

you..."

The flush turned into a full-blown blush as Stephanie finally let herself take all of Shane in, and Melinda sighed internally. Her eighteen-year-old niece was a lot of things—brilliant and beautiful not being the least of them—but the young woman was definitely not... worldly. Melinda had no doubt that a man like Shane was not something Steph had been exposed to many times in her young life.

Or, ever, let's be honest.

Melinda stared up at her boyfriend again.

No one's like him.

She managed to get one more flex of her butt in before Shane pulled his hand away and put it on one of her niece's. "Well, of all the sights I expected beyond that door, I never thought it'd be a Baroque masterpiece come to life." The tall man reached up and gave a light touch to Stephanie's earlobe, there and gone in a breath. "Just missing the pearl earring."

"Wow." The teen expelled the word while she thumbed the newly-vacated lobe, her green eyes wide. Then they went wider. "I mean... that was... you're very, um, nicely... talking..."

Melinda decided it was time to come to the rescue, and she threw an arm around her niece's shoulders. "Stephanie, this is Shane, my wonderful... and way-too-quick-with-words boyfriend. Shane, this is Stephanie. On paper she's my niece, but really, she's the little sister I should have had. Hence, why I'm

Mellie

, and not

Aunt Mellie

." Melinda planted a wet, goofy kiss on the girl's cheek to show that she was playing. They both knew that if the young woman ever started calling her Aunt, it would be heartbreaking, and not just because Melinda was only eight years older. They'd been thick as thieves since the kid was old enough to be able to walk across a room.

Stephanie sighed and touched her glasses again. Her show of excitement at seeing Melinda was a flare, there and gone, and now the too-serious, too buttoned-down personality was reasserting control. For the thousandth time, Melinda marveled at how her niece positively torpedoed every stereotype about redheads there was. "Yes, well, Mellie is Mellie, and far be it from me to try to change our relationship at this point." Still, the girl did smile a little. Not all hope was lost.

"So... can we come in?" Melinda arched a brow—no vibrant red there, just plain old brown, like her brother—and looked past the door into the house. "I know it's unannounced, but I just... I need all the important people in my life to be important together, and I..." She smiled sheepishly. "I thought it better just to pull the band-aid off."

Stephanie knew exactly what she meant by that, and put a hand on her aunt's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Dad's not home. He's out for another week."

Of course

. It'd been a gamble showing up out of nowhere, Melinda knew. Mike was frequently traveling, firming up his business and making new connections. Across the world, even, which was something she was actually proud of; her globe-trotting big brother. No one would have thought so to see him growing up. Not in the household they'd had to endure. Still, it was a shame, she wanted to get right to it; introductions, then the damage control as Shane inevitably didn't live up to expectations.

None of them ever did.

"But that doesn't mean this house isn't welcoming to its wayward child!" The voice carried out to them from well within the expansive home. "So how about you find the will to stop jawing on the stoop like old codgers and get your rumps in here?"

And in they indeed went. Melinda prepped herself, but then again, she always did. And, like always, it wasn't enough. Every ounce of boisterousness that Stephanie lacked, Charlotte made up for in spades, as Melinda's aching ribs could definitely attest to. Trying to hold in a groan as she was enveloped in those thin, yet surprisingly strong arms, she couldn't help but laugh a bit.

Ah balance. This is a

true

redhead. No dousing this fire!

"Mellie the Magnificent! You know you're always welcome here, even if your pokey old brother isn't around to give you the formal invitation that, apparently, you think you need these days!" Charlotte pulled herself back a bit, but kept her sister-in-law encircled with the bare arms protruding from her thin yellow sundress. Melinda just smiled up at the lithe, tall beauty and put her own hands on Char's tight waist... while trying to suppress her years-long envy at how, even with inches between their faces, there wasn't a single damned one between their...

chests.

Damned amazon and her damned oversized...

"Sorry Char. I love Mike to death, but... well... it's not the easiest thing for me to introduce my, uh...

concerned

big brother to a guy who..."

Fucks me so silly that I forget my name.

"...I'm dating."

"And that's my cue." Shane slid right in there, smooth as silk, and plucked up the older woman's fingers, bending her hand at the wrist, then planting a kiss on the back of it. Corny, clichéd... and fucking cute as pie. "I'd tell you my name, but I'm having a little trouble making my brain work right, for some reason."

To Melinda's surprise, Char... giggled. Down-to-earth, motherly, nurturing, longsuffering Charlotte tittered like a schoolgirl for about a nanosecond before she clamped up and pulled her hand free. It was so quick, so out of character, Melinda at least half wondered if she imagined it.

"Well, you got your act down pat. I suppose that earns you a meal, if only for the professional execution." Charlotte smiled warmly, her hand still hanging in the air like she'd forgotten it.

"Oh no, not an act.

Mellie

here is the girl for me..." At Shane's use of the nickname, Melinda felt a little defeated. It was one more chink in the armor of her respectability that she tried to maintain with him. "... but that doesn't mean I've been struck blind, or anything. Well, not until I saw you two gorgeous specimens of top-notch genetics, that was." Shane—after a quick look and grin to Stephanie, who averted her own gaze bashfully—put his hand over his eyes and did an over-the-top miming of sightlessly feeling around.

This time Charlotte didn't hide her laugh, and Melinda told herself that was why she ignored it when Shane's fingertips brushed against the cotton of that nice, thin yellow sundress in an... unfortunate spot.

"Okay then, Mellie, you definitely chose one outside your usual comfort zone." Charlotte spoke while heading to the kitchen. "I approve. In fact, I approve so much, I think I would be dishonest with myself if I didn't relent and say that you and your happy clown-fella here will be allowed to sleep in the guest room that, I suppose, is

technically

really your room in perpetuity."

Charlotte looked back over a spaghetti-strap covered shoulder, her own green eyes flashing as she twirled a crimson lock around one finger. "As long as you promise not to lose your nerve and high-tail it out before Mike gets back." The woman's lifted cheeks fell a bit then. "Seriously, Melinda. He'll be devastated if you don't let him meet Shane. I think you might be wrong about him this time. You... I can tell you picked a good one."

"My ears are going to match you ladies' hair pretty quick here." Shane grinned, but his ears kept their natural hue. "And we'd be delighted to stay. Especially considering what I'm smelling." He unhesitatingly snaked an arm around Melinda's hips and up under her tight t-shirt, then tickled her taut abdomen, making the muscles jump. "I mean, I can hold out, maybe, but I can feel Mellie's tummy grumbling already."

Melinda had to tell herself to keep breathing when Shane's fingers made a quick detour on their way out, dipping past the top of her jeans... and panties... to brush the skin well beneath her navel. She was hungry, that was true, but, suddenly, she wasn't sure for what, exactly. At least, she wasn't sure which hunger was greater. She looked out the window at the lowering sun then.

Will Steph and Char believe the trip was long enough that we need to hit the hay early?

They did believe it, as it turned out, but Melinda should have remembered whose house this actually was.

"The couch is super-duper comfortable, trust me." Charlotte didn't look at Shane as she made her proclamation, instead busying herself with the linens she'd procured after they'd had a fabulous meal full of engaging conversation. Maybe because it was so fabulous, so engaging, that she felt guilty. If so, not guilty enough to stop making up the sofa, though. "So comfortable that you'll forget there's even a bed upstairs. Or that your girlfriend is in it. Alone." She sighed, her shoulders drooping, and finally turned to face him. "Look, sorry I said before that you'd both be in Mellie's room. I wasn't thinking straight. Trust me. This is... it's for the best. Mike is... well, you shouldn't get used to something that isn't going to last, and he'll be home before any of us know it."

Melinda, now in the short shorts and croptop that she preferred sleeping in, caught his eye and gave a resigned nod of agreement with her sister-in-law. As it was, she was just glad that Stephanie had already headed to her own room. No doubt the siren song of homework was pulling the pretty nerd on a steel cable. During supper, the girl had laughed herself hoarse at Shane's antics, after all. A return to her comfort zone was probably the overriding thought in the honor student's well-shaped skull.

Shane was on top of it, as expected. "Charlotte, don't even worry. There's nothing I love more than your honorary daughter here," he reached out and gave a...

playful

tug on Melinda's shorts, pulling the elastic waist almost to her ass, "but I'm a guest. And also not an animal. I can do without for a few nights." The man spread his arms wide, giving a full view of his ripped chest and washboard stomach. Full, because he himself was in his nightwear; a pair of too-tight, too

emphasizing

flannel pajama bottoms... and that was it.

Charlotte nodded, then stopped herself, annoyed and obviously wondering what she was even nodding about. For own part, the woman was draped in a nightgown thick as a dictionary, so no inappropriateness coming from that corner, to Melinda's relief. She was glad one of the three was managing to tamp down the ridiculousness. "Thank-you, Shane. I appreciate your being so understanding. I get it, you're adults, you're... familiar with each other plenty by now, I'm sure. It's just..." She shrugged. "Mike."

Without another word, Charlotte headed to the stairs leading to the bedroom corridor, but stopped only three steps up. After a second, she spoke again without turning around. "See, the thing is, Mike wouldn't want you

sleeping

in the same bed. You know... not together there. In the morning." And with that, the woman of the house really did make her exit.

It was only ten minutes later that Shane was shoving that monster he called a cock so far up Melinda's twat that she was sure he was counting her teeth with the slit.

"Oh fuck, fuck, fuuuuucccckkkk..." Melinda was barely able to grunt out that singular oath since her cheek was plastered against the bedroom door so completely that it was actually difficult to make her jaw work. Having waited a scant couple of minutes for Charlotte to be well and truly gone, Shane had practically dragged Melinda up the stairs and to her room, slammed the door shut, yanked down her shorts, spun her around and immobilized her with a hand, fished out his beast from within his PJs... and went for it. All very deliberative. All very organized. All very devastating.

"Why did I have to wait?" Shane lowered his lips to Melinda's ear and hissed out the question before taking it in his teeth and giving a light bite. Relatively light. All the while, his hips never relented in pounding a fuck into her that she was almost afraid of. That she loved more than anything in the world, too, of course. "Why couldn't I just have what I wanted when I wanted it?"

Pound, pound, pound...

The sound of the door rattling from their frantic fucking, combined with Melinda's near inability to find her voice, meant that her answer was a bit lacking, but she tried. He demanded, and she had to answer, after all. "Sorry, sorry, sorry... hnnggg!" Melinda has to stop to ride out her first climax. It was a doozy. After a minute—one of being thrashed by that unrelenting dick—she kept on. "Not... not my choice... I wanted you... I always want you, but... oh, oh, oh my fucking fuck!"

Orgasm number two came right on the heels of the first, and she thanked every god in the sky that she was a lifelong athlete who obsessively maintained her fitness. That was coming in as handy now as it had the first day she'd met Shane. Which, surprisingly... or not... was also the first day she'd been reduced to a drooling mess by his magic dick.

Too late, Melinda realized that the pair of them had to have been making a shit ton of noise. Between the door booming against the frame and her own caterwauling, Charlotte and Stephanie must have been getting quite the experience. A part of her was ashamed of that, of her complete inability to control herself. A part. Other parts, however...

"Shit, something flipped your fucking switch, you little slut!" Shane groaned and slammed his hips against her ass while he reached up and took both her pert little tits in each hand. He held himself there, grinding and twitching within her as he pinched her nipples so exquisitely hard. "Fuck... that vice you call a pussy is gonna rip my dick off!"

"Gimme, gimme, gimme..." Melinda couldn't voice her wish more clearly than that. "Fill it. Do it, do it..."

"You telling me what to do?" He pulled harder on her nips, and Melinda whimpered. "Whose pussy is this?"

"Yours. It's your... ohfuckme... it's your pussy." The multiple trophy winning, grad school alum with the world in front of her mewled like a kitten as her muscular butt cheeks began spasming beyond her control. "You took it... it's yours... you own it forever... I love you, I fucking love you... uunnngghhh..."

"Goddamned right, you little nympho."

She could hear the sneer she knew was on his face. God, he was so douchey. So callous... and it made her so. Fucking. HOT.

Melinda's knees lost all strength and gravity made her its bitch, just like Shane did the moment he flooded her channel with his

generous gift.

The one she'd begged for. The one she reveled in even as it made a pool beneath her while she twitched on the floor of the bedroom her beloved big brother had told her was her oasis in his home whenever she wanted.

Sorry Mike... sorry... he's got me.

Melinda's guilt over making compromises she knew her brother wouldn't want her to make was a pale little thing next to the utter bliss her body felt in that moment, and she found that, truthfully, she was less regretful than she thought she should have been.

Her heart was beating so hard in her chest as she lied there, trying to recover, that it almost sounded like footsteps pattering away from somewhere. Weird how that was.

Didn't matter though... she knew her love muscle was about to get put through its paces again in no time flat. Her heart, too.

Just hope he does go back to the couch after I pass out.

Melinda smiled to herself.

Don't want to be bad guests, after all.

__________

Stephanie didn't know up from down the morning after she'd gotten a front-row seat to her aunt's

show

the night before.

Morning? Who am I kidding? I barely even slept last night.

Vaguely, she wondered at what point Melinda forgot that their rooms were directly across from each other. Or at least stopped caring.

The eighteen-year-old scholar sat at the kitchen table and played with her breakfast, not even realizing that one corner of her mouth kept twitching up entirely on its own. Of course, the reason for it may have been that, in order to get to the kitchen, she had to walk past Shane, still snoozing on the sofa. Bare from the waist up. With the blanket kicked down.

So, not just waist up, as it turned out.

Dammit, I frigged myself raw all night. I can't... I can't just go back up and do it again. I... it's not healthy... probably...

Oatmeal was swirled about fifty times while this internal evaluation of the limits of sexual physiology commenced. Finally, Stephanie gave up and let go of her spoon, rising to her feet definitively while pushing her glasses up on her nose, and calmly, with quiet dignity, tiptoed her way back into the living room and all it contained.

What it contained was an absolute Adonis who was now fully awake, fully without a blanket whatsoever, and fully smiling at her.

"Hey there Steph. Sorry if we kept you up last night." Shane's face was the embodiment of overconfidence... though Stephanie had to admit that the "over" part of that word may not have been quite apt.

He's just... he's sculpted from a woman's wettest dreams.