"What the fuck are you doing here?"
I asked that a lot.
But, seriously -- my brother didn't live in this city. He didn't leave within fifty miles of this city.
Thank god.
As he shifted my weight on his shoulder, he mumbled, "Saving you from yourself, apparently."
I stumbled against him, squinting at the blurry ground as he dragged me out of the bar. Technically, I should be grateful. He had just appeared out of nowhere and shoved off some drunk asshole who had been pawing at me. I owed Bruce at least a 'thank you'.
I didn't like owing my brother anything.
Despite tripping on my feet, I grumbled, "Well, fuck you, but I dun... don't need you. Get 'way from me."
He caught my fall with an arm around my waist as we continued weaving in the parking lot. Scoffing, he said, "You can't accept that I'm trying to help, can you?"
I wanted nothing from him. He'd 'helped' quite enough, thanks, and mostly himself. He wasn't currently groping me, but I wouldn't be surprised if he tossed me into his car and proceeded to take advantage of my drunken state.
I spotted my car. "Fine, whatever," I grumbled. "You did your good deed. Shoo." Pushing him away, I fumbled in my pockets for my keys.
He easily hooked me back into his arms. "Not a chance. You're not driving like this. Come on. And don't throw up in my car."
I wasn't that drunk. The ground wobbled like a small earthquake and the street was wavy, though. Probably shouldn't drive. I silently let him tuck me into his car, then proceeded to ignore him on the drive home by promptly passing out.
My chin drooped to my chest. The car stopped. I fumbled with my seat belt as the door opened. My legs almost crumbled when I stepped out of the car. Bruce caught me again and sighed.
"I can... get in by myself," I mumbled.
He didn't bother responding. Fine, ignore me. Not that I could do much about it. I leaned on him harder. He could carry me inside if he was sooo helpful. My feet tangled on the front steps. He didn't let me fall.
As the door shut behind us, he mumbled, "You're welcome for taking care of you. As always."
I grumbled annoyed noises. Taking care of me? Hardly. He was just taking the opportunity to get his hands all over me. I should have kicked him out of my home, but I could barely walk. If he dropped me now, I'd fall asleep on the floor.
We made it to my bedroom, me practically dragged along as I leaned against him more and more. I was tired, and he deserved it. The least he could do was work for it if he intended on using my body.
If? Who was I kidding, of course, he planned to fuck me. And I was too drunk to stop him. A curl of heat brushed between my legs. Grumbling quietly, I decided I'd just lie there and take it. I didn't want to fight him -- I mean, I didn't have the energy to fight him. It would serve him right if I fell asleep in the middle of his thrusting. I snorted at the imaginary pissed-off look on his face.
Collapsing on my bed made my head swim. I groaned and flung an arm over my eyes. Goddamn idiot brother of mine flicked on the light.
Dull thumps and shuffling noises surrounded me. I squinted. "What're you...?"
He was digging around in my dresser. My underwear went flying. "Go to sleep."
I stubbornly struggled to stay awake, rubbing my eyes. "Stop messin' up my shit. Get outta here." Losing the battle to keep my eyes open, I sank into the pillow. Naturally, he ignored me and continued rummaging.
"Where's that vibrator I gave you?" he mumbled to himself.
I smiled at the memory of throwing those stupid things in the trash. Of course, I did. I told him as much. "What, you thought I was dumb enough to keep 'em?"
He frowned at me, then shrugged. "Ungrateful cunt. I don't know why I bother. That's ok, I got more."
He what, now? Another curl of sensuous warmth settled low in my stomach. Ugh, whatever. I was horny when I was drunk, so what?
The fog of sleep pulled me under as I heard him faintly say, "Sleep it off, baby J. We'll play later."
--
My head was a swollen, cotton-filled drum, with a nail being hammered into it. I groaned. I hurt so much, even my jaws were sore.
No, wait. I couldn't close my mouth. Or touch my face -- something pulled at my wrists. I kicked, but my ankles were tied too, my legs spread wide apart. Blinking groggy eyes at the light, I yelled loudly. What the hell was going on?
Bruce's face appeared to the side, bending slightly over me. "Good morning, baby J! How are you feeling?" His bright and chipper voice grated on my nerves, adding to my already throbbing headache.
"Aaargh?!" Why was that piece of shit still here? It was Valentine's Day. I planned to wake up to a hot -- or at least cute -- guy in my bed for a day of tangling in the sheets. Technically, I suppose I got all those things.
Did I really need to specify that the guy should not be my brother?!
My bedroom came into focus around me, and the awareness of my situation followed. He'd tied me to my own bed, spread-eagled and naked! And what the hell was in my mouth? A strap went around my head, holding the thing in place like some sort of demented gag. Shaking my head made me aware of a band around my neck - fuzzy on the inside with harder edges. Great. I was collared.