Hi! This is part 2/chapter 2/the second installment of the story! It took a little longer than expected to finish writing and edit. It's quite a bit longer than part 1, so I hope this really comes off well to anyone reading. Please let me know what you think in the comments (or send me comments if you're more comfortable with that)! Your feedback is greatly appreciated!
DISCLAIMER:
This is a work of fiction meant for entertainment and reading purposes only. Any resemblance to real people by way of descriptive appearances, names, mannerisms, or any other facet, are purely coincidental. All characters depicted who are involved in any sexual activity, whether explicitly or implicitly stated, are above 18 years of age. As a work of fiction, this story may contain fantastical exaggerations, embellishments, and creative liberties. When consuming fiction, a suspension of disbelief may be required at times, but otherwise, the use of common sense is always advised. Please be advised that there is no implicit, explicit, or tacit approval of any sexual behavior or deviancy depicted in this work. This story complies with the rules and guidelines of this site to the best of this author's knowledge. Thank you.
A raging winter snowstorm, just shy of a blizzard, has mostly just passed. For one family in a suburban town, the timing is just perfect. Eager to celebrate the holidays with loved ones and house guests, revel in old traditions as well as embark on creating new ones, everyone is ready to partake in a bit of holiday joy, food and festivities included. With a pair of step-siblings who fight like cats and dogs, their first reunion at this time of the year comes with unexpected, tempting, and risky escapades that may just form a new tradition. The holidays are meant to bring family together, but maybe just not this close!
The fork scraped against the plate lightly. Oliver eyed the bacon slice, crispy and crunchy, determined to stab it and launch it into his mouth in one go. He scraped the edge of the plate once more. His scrambled eggs were mostly still there, warm, but not hot. His cup of coffee sat, no milk or creamer, on the table beside his plate.
His mind raced with the thoughts of Madi and his inability to extricate himself from the events of last night. Oliver's feelings towards his sister, technically his step-sister, had never been this much in flux, at least not since the peak of puberty.
He tried again and failed to stab the bacon slice.
The doubts crept up in his mind. The bacon slice eluded his fork, sliding across the plate, just as his inability to pinpoint the crux of his conflict with Madi had bounced around like a pinball in his head.
Oliver's thoughts brought him back to the formative years of adolescence where he assumed the herculean task of defending Madi and her honor, even if he didn't always want to do it. Her beauty outpaced her friends and other girls, making her a magnet for guys at school. From her disarming smile, her cute little giggle, her sassy attitude, or her button nose, to her big, soft eyes, or her firm and perky butt, he'd heard it all and seen it all.
Tormented by such words of admiration, of sexual desire, of praise, for the one person who he couldn't have for himself left him confused and upset. His parents' strong stand for a traditional family and Madi's initial bratty attitude towards him when they first became a family all worked to shape his view of her. But as their lives progressed, his feelings became too difficult to ignore. Yet for the sake of everyone, Oliver had no choice but to relegate himself to the typical brother, settling into the role that he didn't want it for himself.
Madi had always represented everything that Oliver wanted in a girlfriend, so much so to the point that his preferences were inextricably linked to her. A quick tour of his dating history made that very clear, though he likely never realized it, seeing it more of a coincidence than anything else. A subconscious channeling of his attraction into dating girls who closely resembled his step-sister in some way seemed to be the norm for him, even if he never stayed with those girls for very long. It proved to be enough to distract him, to keep him from thinking of Madi again in any way beyond platonic love, until last night.
His fork jammed into the plate. The bacon slice slid across the plate once more. Almost, but not quite.
Just as he almost had it, his recollection of last night already started to fade. Eroding slowly like waves crashing on the shore to destroy a sand castle by gradually reducing it to nothing, bit by bit, wave by wave, so too did his second-guessing of the event begin to do the same. It would still be there, but would be unrecognizable. Soon, he would be forgetting the real details entirely, rewriting it into oblivion to the point of no return or recollection of what really happened. Last night would be a distant memory, the details foggy and sketchy at best. The only other person who might stand to remember what happened was Madi.
"I don't get it... nothing happened," he mumbled to himself, holding his fork directly over the bacon slice now. "Why am I thinking about this so much?"
The feelings that he shouldn't have experienced, the ones that he trained himself to avoid, he did. The fact that his mind taunted him about it now only evidenced the need for a deeper look. But he didn't want to go there, not yet ready. He didn't want to play the game: the what-if game. What if it was okay? What if it wasn't that big of a deal? What if he didn't see her as his real sister? What if she reciprocated? What if he held her until she woke up? What if she wanted more? The dam opened up wide and the questions flooded out, hitting him like arrows trained and released with prejudice on a large bullseye target.
Suddenly, Oliver's eyes focused like a camera lens, sharpening to focus. His fork came down with a slower and less chaotic speed this time, landing directly in the center of the bacon slice with precision.
"That's it... it was a fluke," he muttered, "and I'll just get Madi back in bed to prove it."
He stared out through the bay window at the breakfast table, squinting as the sunlight beamed into his eyes, reflecting off of the fresh sheet of blinding white snow that had fallen overnight. The rationale was sound and logical. An accident, a mistake, hormones gone wild. Nothing happened. Nothing actually happened. Yet the question lingered in his mind: was it really a fluke?
Oliver shook his head and wiped the absent, spaced-out expression from his face.
Hurried trotting erupted directly ahead of Oliver's head straight out into the distance until light footsteps approached, coming down through the secondary stairs that led into the kitchen. Oliver nearly set his fork down, eyes fixed forward as Madi's bare feet came into view, her festively painted dark red toenails giving her away. Despite there being no glass slippers in sight, her Cinderella-like presence captivated Oliver's attention, an oddity for him if there ever was one.
In a pair of white and red plaid lounge pants and a white long-sleeved pullover that amplified her sexy, dirty golden hair, she slowed her descent, almost to a crawl, upon spotting Oliver at the table straight ahead with her tunnel vision. Her hazel eyes met the rich brown of his, the hold nearly magnetic. She noticed that he was already mostly dressed, decked out in his black snow pants and a thick green sweatshirt that accentuated the brown facial hair along the sharp edges of his face.
"Ollie," she said without her usual confidence, a bit shaky with her voice. A mere statement of a greeting, called from a distance before she made it onto the tile kitchen floor to then realize that Oliver wasn't alone.
Rick stood in front of the stove and cracked the last egg into the skillet as the sausage links sizzled in the one next to it.
"Oh, hi, Daddy. Good morning!" she said with a cheery demeanor, eyebrows raised and all smiles, a quick shift from the expression she just had on a moment ago.
Ever the daddy's girl, Madi had more reason than most for the close bond she shared with Rick. Losing her own father at a very young age, she found a father in Rick, a man who did everything for his little girl. He saw no difference between her and his own flesh and blood son, helping Madi navigate the landmines that were budding emotions, crushes, and hormonal changes during those trying teenage years. He became the daddy that she always needed and she became the daughter he never knew he wanted.
"Good morning, baby. Sleep well? I hope the arrangements were okay," Rick called out a bit loudly over his shoulder with an innocent and curious tone.
He kept his head straight, only breaking for a moment to acknowledge her as he desperately focused on not overcooking the eggs. The pink apron fashioned around his body and tied at his waist, borrowed from Wendy, didn't match his gray Henley or bright blue snow pants in the least. It appeared obvious that there was a miscommunication or coordination issue that led to Rick making breakfast.
"I, uh, y-yeah," she replied, immediately looking over at Oliver and locking eyes with him again as he sat up straighter to return the glance.
