It was the last day of the dreaded family 'vacation'. My wife Charlotte always insisted on spending a week with her parents and siblings; something I endured with as much good grace as I could. Her parents were alright, as far as in-laws went. Her older sister and her husband were fine as well. The best that could be said about her younger sister though, was all physical appearance.
Becky was young, hot, and obnoxious. My wife always said it was because she was so much younger than herself and their older sister. They had spoiled her, she said. I was sure that had been a contributing factor to her personality, but I also suspected her good looks and amazing body had only enabled her in getting her way. Whatever the reason, Becky wasn't used to hearing no, and had never warmed to me -- especially after I ordered her out of our house one night when she drunkenly started slinging insults at everyone she could see.
The vacation had been fine so far. As well as I could expect anyway. Everyone had been enjoying the afternoons out at the beach, long relaxing dinners, and spending a few hours relaxing with their various pursuits before turning in. Our last afternoon together was spent in the usual fashion. Everyone was down at the beach. Charlotte, her older sister and her husband, and their mother had gone for a walk; and their father had fallen asleep in a lounge chair next to mine, and Becky had waded out into the water for a swim.
I was immersed in a paperback when Becky approached me, saltwater glistening on her young toned body. She leaned in over me, droplets of water sprinkling over me and my novel. I glanced up to find her curvy, perky breasts uncomfortably close to my face. I directed my gaze up quickly, trying not to notice the way her nipples stood up beneath her bikini top.
Becky was staring down at me, a dangerous sort of smile on her full lips. She glanced over towards her sleeping father before bending down a little closer to me. "I saw you that night," she said quietly.
"What night?" I asked blandly. I tried to shift away, having a difficult time keeping my eyes on her face when she was bent over me in such a position.
Her eyebrows twitched as her smile twisted into a familiar smirk. "Let's see," she said, straightening a little to toss her wet blond ponytail over her shoulder. "The night you cheated on my sister."
That got my attention. I was no longer interested in checking out Becky's body. "What?" I demanded. I glanced over, determining for myself that her father was still asleep. I straightened and lowered my voice. "What the hell are you talking about? I never cheated on your sister!"
It was a lie, although I couldn't imagine why Becky would hint to know otherwise. No one knew. Charlotte and I had been going through a rough patch a few years previously, and I had eased my pain with one, or a few, one-night stands. No one had ever found out, and as I had always been out of town when I had done it, there didn't seem any way Becky could possibly have found out.
"Oh, you did," she said, bending down even closer. Her bikini top gapped slightly, and had I not been intent on our conversation, I would have had a hard time not seeing if I could sneak a peak at her whole breast. "I know you did -- I saw it," she added.
Becky's gaze was confident, almost challenging. But she had spent her life playing this part and I wasn't about to crack over a bluff.
"Bullshit." I said.
She let out a laugh, making her tits bounce in a way that made my cock twitch in spite of myself. "Yeah, right," she scoffed. "Bullshit. Alright fine, how about this. Does 'Phoenix' ring a bell?"
Of course I knew the city she was referencing, and I did occasionally go there for business. Whether I had picked anyone up in Phoenix, I unfortunately couldn't remember. I kept my face placid. "You're out of your mind Becky, go yank someone else's chain."
I turned away, lifting my book in a gesture to show I was done with the conversation, but Becky grabbed my arm. When I turned to face her she had moved even closer. Her cheeks flushed as she glared at me, her face no longer smirking, but hard now. Angry.
"I saw what you did you asshole. Don't deny it. All I'm saying is: watch your step. Piss me off and you might find my tongue gets a little lose around dear old Charlotte. Keep me happy, and..." she released my arm, straightening to lift her own in a shrug with a smile that infuriated me.
Becky strolled away, her hips swaying as she headed back into the beach house. I returned to my book, but had difficulty concentrating on it. I was glad when the others returned, eager not to have any more time alone with the most troublesome member of the family. The afternoon and evening passed without any other incident, although every time I looked over at Becky she was wearing a satisfied smirk, looking like the cat who ate the cream.
---
Charlotte and I packed that evening, intending to head home the following morning. She turned in early with the hopes of getting an extra couple of hours sleep, but I was too worked up. I couldn't relax with the idea of Becky raising the question of infidelity. Even if she didn't know anything, the very idea might lead down the path where the truth could be discovered. But finding out what she wanted and giving it to her would only be admitting that she knew something. That she had leverage over me.
After tossing and turning for a while I finally gave up, and went downstairs. My intention was a drink of water, and to pick up the paperback I had left in the dining room. But when I passed by Becky's bedroom door and saw it cracked open a few inches, I hesitated. Maybe it was worth talking to Becky. Maybe giving into whatever her (no doubt outrageous) demands were would be better than having her spout off at a moments notice that she knew something I couldn't necessarily deny.
I knocked quietly. The door swung another few inches open. Becky's TV was on, but the room was otherwise dark. There was no answer to the knock, so I tried again, a little louder. Still no answer.
I pushed the door open and poked my head around the corner. "Becky?" I asked quietly. I could see her now. Asleep, sprawled across the bed. Her slinky, silky nightgown seemed to shimmer in the glow of the television. I was irritated at the sight of her sexy sleep wear, feeling like it was some kind of taunt against me.
"Becky?" I raised my voice a little more, almost normal speaking volume, but still no response. Becky, I remembered now, was known for being a heavy sleeper, so unless I wanted to cross to the bed and shake her awake, it looked like any chance of a conversation was out.
I backed out of the bedroom, closing the door to the way I found it, and continued to the kitchen. But as I filled a glass with water and drank it down, I started to get angry. What could she possibly know? If she knew anything, why would she wait until now to bring it up? Surely she would have brought it up the first time she'd seen me, instead of waiting all this time. No doubt she was just trying to get a rise out of me. See how I'd react.
That bitch.
Thinking of how she'd get enjoyment out of watching me squirm, of how she'd threaten to shake the foundation of my marriage -- of her sister's marriage -- just for a laugh, pushed me to the boiling point. I slammed the glass into the dishwasher and crossed back to Becky's bedroom. I was going to wake her up alright, but not to bargain. I was going to give her hell until she was the one making deals.
Becky was still sprawled across her bed when I reentered her bedroom. One arm stretched up and over her head, one leg bent at the knee. I closed the door behind me, not wanting anyone to overhear our conversation, and crossed to the bed. I glared down at her for a minute before leaning over and gripping her arm. "Becky," I said, giving it a little shake. "Becky."
She barely stirred.
"Becky!" I raised my voice and nudged my hand into her side this time, jostling her whole body.
