Forbidden Pt 02

As stated in part 1, this is my first story and I would very much appreciate knowing your thoughts. Thanks!

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Heather dozed silently as Colton moved around her as quietly as he could the next morning. He'd barely slept last night, his brain feeding him taunting, tantalizing images of his sister running on his treadmill and then washing her naked body in his shower as he listened to her moving around his home. Then he'd warred with himself all night, forcing himself to stay put in his bed when all he'd wanted to do was go into his weight room and work himself into a physical oblivion so he could pass out.

When he glanced at her on his way out, he'd been unbelievably grateful he'd stayed in bed. During the night she'd kicked off the blanket, it lay on the floor beside her as she slept on her side facing away from him. He lifted his eyes to the ceiling for a moment, begging himself for patience as his fingers curled into fists at his sides to prevent himself from reaching out to caress her.

Her tank top had ridden up and twisted around her, exposing the curve of her waist and more side boob then she'd probably feel comfortable with him seeing. She'd slept in her underwear, the cheeky cut exposing the bottom half of her ass as the material tucked snuggly between her round cheeks, her shapely bare legs completely naked for him. Reaching for the blanket, he draped it back over her, allowing himself to press a gentle kiss to the side of her head before forcing himself to step away from her.

Shoving his feet in his boots, Colton adjusted his stiff member before disappearing out the side door off his kitchen, locking the door firmly behind him.

~ ~ ~

That afternoon, Heather ran her fingertips over the spines of her brother's books as she read the titles, amused that he hadn't changed all that much in the five years he'd been gone. A gentle smile curved her lips as she searched for a story among all the nonfiction. Colton had always been a voracious learner.

She giggled to herself as she recalled what a difficult time he'd had narrowing his focus of study in high school to prepare for university applications. She pictured the way she'd hung off his shoulder as he'd sat crunched up at his desk, a pencil tapping against the mahogany surface as he weighed his options, finally settling on chemistry. His career pathway decided. Big Pharma. Dad was so proud. She snorted and rolled her eyes, of course he had been, there was money to be made there.

Even as a child, she'd known he'd made a colossal mistake. She couldn't picture her brother calculating formulas all day. Colton had always been good with his hands and there was nothing in the world he loved more than puzzles, the more complicated and convoluted the better.

Rubik's cubes were his favourite and she wondered absently if he still had the one she'd gifted him for his fifteenth birthday, it being the first thing she'd ever bought with her own money. Despite her initial surprise the night he'd announced his change of plan, upon reflection, becoming a mechanic suited Colton perfectly, he solved puzzles with his hands all day long now. She wondered sadly if his decision had finally made him happy.

Her interest in finding a book now lost, Heather contented herself instead by moving around his home, touching all his objects, reacquainting herself with the brother she felt she'd lost years ago. Once she'd explored the entirety of his small house, she let herself out the side door, examining his neglected backyard and empty flowerbeds.

She frowned, that was pretty typical of her brother as well, he obviously mowed the lawn but he'd never both with something as frivolous as flowers. Wandering over to his garage she tried the door but frowned when she found it locked. Inside the side door of the house, on the wall, she found a set of keys, the smell of oil greeted her as she finally entered his personal workshop.

Flicking on the lights, her brow arched as she stared at the bright yellow muscle car in front of her, a thick black racing stripe down the center. She grinned widely, the colour similar to that of her old bedroom, then frowned, wondering why he'd picked the sunny hue when his favourite colour was red.

Circling it, she opened the driver's door and sat inside, giggling to herself when she had to adjust the seat to see over the dash and have her feet reach the pedals. She felt powerful behind the wheel, she understood why the car appealed to him. Colton had always been attracted to power.

She frowned as her hands slipped off the wheel and into her lap, suddenly feeling cold. She understood his deep desire for power, why he'd worked so hard for autonomy and physical strength...because she had none of it. While her father had molded Colton into a martial arts prodigy, a football star, and a scholar, she'd been forced into swimming lessons, ballet, violin, and etiquette classes.

Despite her efforts, she'd failed to excel in anything other than music, her body wasn't built for swimming, her frame much too curvy to be streamline, her legs too short to be as graceful as the other ballerinas and her opinions much too loud to be a debutante. She could hear her father in her head, cursing her mediocrity even now.

Her face fell further as she remembered her embarrassment of having to have Colton tutor her in math as a teen. His frustration obvious given her lack of understanding as their father forced him to sit at the dining table with her, going over algebraic equations for the hundredth time. Things just didn't come as easy to her as they did to Colt. She didn't see pieces of knowledge in her head that she could click together to form a picture the way he did.

She was intelligent though and had managed to secure a scholarship to study law, but she wasn't Colton, and her father had always resented her short coming. Sighing, she thought of the last recital her brother had attended, his grin broad as he congratulated her on a perfect performance. Her father had sneered at his words, letting her know her vibrato hadn't been strong enough in her third piece before dismissing them both so he could speak to her teacher about his perceived error. A tear slipped from the corner of her eye in mourning of her violin. She dabbed at it with her fingertip, trying her best not to smear her eyeliner.

Climbing out of the car, Heather found her smile once more as she was met with Colton's grinning face. A photo of them she hadn't realized existed was pinned to his whiteboard with a small magnet above his workbench. A younger version of herself returned her smile from the glossy image of the picture, Colton's arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders as she squeezed his waist with both arms. She bit her lip. He looked so happy. It was rare to see him smile like that.

Her eyes dipping away from his face, she traced the contours of his powerful shoulders with her gaze, her eyes lingering on his half sleeve, exposed by his muscle shirt. Heather sighed dreamily as she admired his tattoo, the dark clouds that decorated his shoulder faded into a light grey at his bicep, the light of the sun piercing through them to illuminate the ship that decorated his upper arm as it attempted to stay afloat on rough waters.

The piece was wild and untamed, like Colton had been in his younger years. She hummed, remembering how many fights he'd gotten into as a child, unable to control his temper. The memory a stark contrast from the deeply controlled and organized man she knew now.

She frowned, glad he wasn't still out of control, but a little sad to think about how deeply he'd repressed himself to appease their father. Heather preferred to think about him somewhere between the two ends of the spectrum, a little ruffled. She was tempted to mess up his tool bench on him, dishevel his things just a little bit so she felt a little less awkward and estranged in the impeccably organized space.

She'd had quite enough of perfection.

An unbidden image of him wet, dripping in only his towel, her hand on his tattoo, assaulted her mind. Heather groaned, picturing her idea of perfection, her nefarious thoughts towards his tools immediately forgotten. She pressed her fingertips to her lips, remembering how warm and solid he'd felt under her hand. Closing her eyes, she leaned back against the car as her mind filled in the rest of his torso for her, water running over the tight bands of muscle.

Groaning, Heather shivered, dampness gathering between her legs the longer she pictured him. Biting her lip, she cupped her cunt through her jeans, feeling conflicted. It'd been years since she'd touched herself to thoughts of him. She'd thought she'd gotten passed her taboo feelings for him.

She moaned as another memory flashed behind her eyes, of Colton in the garden with a girl, his hand between her legs, her thigh hooked over his hip, her skirt riding high as she moaned against his mouth and tugged on his hair. At the time, Heather had been horrified to catch her brother in such a compromising position. She'd stood rooted to the spot, blushing terribly, watching as the seconds ticked by before she'd finally been able to force her feet to move, to carry her away from her brother and the girl who had obviously been, thoroughly, enjoying his attentions.

Curiosity driving her, she'd locked herself in her room that night and slid her hand into her panties for the first time, wondering what he'd been doing that could have caused the look of pure ecstasy on the girl's face. At the first caress of her clit, she'd been irrationally jealous of that nameless girl. "Mmm," Heather grunted, forcing the memory away, glaring at the photo of her and her brother.

Self-loathing overwhelmed her even as she unbuttoned her jeans, slipping her hand into her panties. Regret warred with lust as she dipped her fingers between her slick folds, her fingertips gently circling her clit as she stared longingly at the photo of her and her brother, vividly recalling what it felt like to have that wall of muscle pressed up against her soft curves.

Adjusting her wrist, she pushed deeper into her pants, two fingers sinking into her wet heat as she lay back on the hood of his car, closing her eyes, her hair pillowing her head as she stroked herself. "Mmmm," she moaned, reaching up with the other hand to palm her breast.

Licking her lips, she used the heel of her palm to massage her clit as her fingers caressed the upper wall of her vaginal canal, her feet planted on the edge of the car, her knees bent. Caressing herself, she pictured her brother, towering over her, a satisfied smirk on his face as he watched her fuck herself on his car. She bit her lip, imagining him moving her hand off her pussy, replacing it with his own as he leaned over her, one big hand splayed next to her head as he finger fucked her.

"Oh, Colt-" She whispered breathlessly, dangerously close to orgasm already. Yanking on her neckline, she snagged the cup of her bra, tugging both aside so she could roughly twist her nipple between the calloused fingertips of her left hand, pretending it was his. "Oh god," she groaned as relief washed through her, her body tensing for a handful of seconds before releasing, her muscles limp as she lay listlessly on the car hood, deeply ashamed of herself.

~ ~ ~

Colton sat in his SUV for a long moment after pulling into his driveway that night, mentally preparing himself for another evening with his sister. He glanced over at the Honda civic next to him, wondering how long Heather had before their father reported it stolen. It was her car, had been since she'd gotten her license five years ago, but he'd bet any money it wasn't in her name. Their father would never be generous enough to actually gift either of them anything.

Sighing, Colt climbed out of his vehicle, grabbing his lunch bag and his book as he made his way into the house. Taking a deep breath of the late August evening air, calling on his considerable will power, he opened the door.

"Hey! It's about time, I was starting to worry," Heather greeted him the same time the smell of Dijon did.

Reaching down to unlace his boots, Heather rushed forward to take his things, setting them on the counter for him. "You cooking?" he asked, dumbfounded to find her puttering around his kitchen.

"Yes?" she replied hesitantly, unsure if she'd over stepped, "you said to make myself at home so I went out and bought groceries when I realized you had very little in the fridge. I found the pile of single frozen meals in the freezer when I got back." When he remained silent, she continued, "I'm a little surprised you eat those considering how stringent you were about your diet with you lived with...me," she explained, her voice catching on the last word.

The side of his mouth cocked impishly as she turned to look at him over her shoulder, "yeah, well, it was a lot easier to follow with a personal chef and you fixing me study snacks and protein shakes every time I mentioned I was hungry," he teased, silently missing the attention she used to shower him with. "Pretty sure I never prepared a single meal for myself until I left," he joked.

Heather rolled her eyes and flipped the ground turkey in her pan with the spatula she'd found in the drawer. "Well, I figured if I'm gonna live here for a bit I might as well help out some. With you working all day, I figured the least I could do was fix you dinner. Also, I don't plan on being in your hair too long, I'll get a job on campus somewhere as soon as school starts up again in a few weeks. Hopefully, if I have enough in my bank account between my last competition winnings and my scholarship, I can put first and last on an apartment when I get my first paycheck, I'm thinking I'll be out by October," she explained, maneuvering to the fridge to grab the feta.

Emptying his lunch pail, Colton nodded as he rinsed out his sandwich Tupperware in the sink. "Take as long as you need," he told her was an ease he didn't feel, "also, I hate to break it to ya Sunshine but we need to drop off your car tonight if you're serious about cutting ties with Dad and your mom."

Heather stilled for a moment, her smile slipping for half a second before she dug the spatula under the searing meat and plopped it onto the bed of arugula she'd arranged. "You really think he'd take my car?" she murmured.

Snorting, Colton leaned his hip against the counter as he dried his Tupperware, "is grass green? Based on the bruises he gave you; I don't imagine when you left, he was feeling overly magnanimous. Unless your mom suddenly finds a heart under all that greed of hers and convinces him not to, I'd bet my paycheck ya only got twenty-four hours before he reports it stolen."

Sighing, Heather did her best to ignore the dig about her mother, "I don't like the idea of being trapped," she murmured as she walked into the long living room off the kitchen, placing her meal on the two placements she'd set out for them.

Ruffling her hair affectionately, Colton chuckled, "ya won't be trapped, I'll teach ya how to take the bus like normal people, and ya can drive my car once I finally finish it. In the meantime, at night if ya need to go somewhere you can take my SUV," he offered, pulling out his chair. "Now what'd ya make me, Sunshine?" he asked.

Grinning at the stupid nickname he'd given her as a child, Heather picked up her fork, "Panzanella salad and honey Dijon glazed turkey."

Colton groaned audibly around the first bite, the food the most flavourful thing he'd eaten in months. "Fuck, Heather, this is good," he told her around the mouthful he'd tucked into his cheek.

Heather sat still, her thighs pinched together, her ass cheeks clenched, doing her best to forget the low pitch of his groan as she chewed, the sound having travelled directly to her pussy. "So I was poking around a little bit today," she hinted, trying to distract herself.

Arching a brow at her, Colton smirked before taking another bite, "oh yeah? Find anything interesting?"

"Saw the photo you keep of us in your workshop. Nice to know you still think about me," she teased, a wide smile on her lips.

Colton stilled, his eyes on his plate as his smile slipped, she had no idea how often he thought of her...and she'd be appalled if she knew the nature of his thoughts. "Course," he muttered, "you're the only thing that really mattered to me for the first twenty years of my life." He confessed instead.

A clatter met his words and he glanced up as she fumbled for her fork which lay haphazardly on her plate. "You don't mean that," she objected, feeling flustered.

"Yes I do," he told her matter of factly, returning to his meal, confused by her surprise.

"But the dojo, and football, your friends," she protested, feeling stupid, "books!" she sputtered lamely.

Smirking at her, Colton shook his handsome head and sighed, "I enjoyed martial arts for the training and the control it brought me, but I don't think fondly on the pain, or pressure. Football was torture, you know I've never been one for team sports. That was just Dad trying to relive his glory days vicariously through me, and friends? Those douche bags weren't my friends. Wanna know how many of them bothered to reach out to me once I quit school and didn't live like a king anymore? Not even one," he smirked, he could give a shit, he didn't miss them.

"As for books, they were an escape, Sunshine, you know that. Something to keep my mind off whatever Dad was riding me about that day. The only thing that made me truly happy were your smiles and watching you get excited about a new piece of music as you mastered it."

Colton frowned as Heather hiccupped and burst into tears, he wasn't sure exactly what kind of reaction his honesty would beget him but he hadn't expected tears. Feeling awkward, he set down his fork and circled the table, crouching at her side, daring to place his hand on her thigh. "Heather?"

Launching herself out of her chair, Heather wrapped her arms around his neck, catching him by surprise as she buried her face in his shoulder, tipping him off balance. Colton wobbled, attempting to steady himself before failing, his weak knee giving out as he toppled onto his back, his sister following his descent to the carpet. "He broke it," she wailed, "he smashed my violin!"

Colton's jaw clenched, his fingers tightening on her body as she broke down. He coached himself through his rage, centering himself like he did before a match, keeping himself on the floor with her when all he wanted to do was get in his SUV, drive to the gaudy building he'd grown up in and smash his fist into his father's face.

How dare he destroy the thing she loved most? "Heather? Please don't cry sis, your tears are rippin' my heart out. I'll buy you a new one, I can't afford to replace the one you had but at least you'll have something to play," he promised.

When she just cried harder, his heart shattered for her in his breast, "Nevermind, forget what I said, I'll pull the equity out of the house and buy you the exact same one okay? I'll do anything, just please stop crying Heather, I can't take it," he begged.

"I love you so much!" she wailed, her tears wetting his dirty t-shirt as she continued to cry, his sweet offer pulling at what was left of her tattered heartstrings.

Squeezing his eyes closed, Colton forced himself to stay still, not to throw her off him like his instincts were screaming at him to do as they lay on the floor in each other's arms. "I love you too," he promised, rubbing small circles against her back as she trembled on top of him.

"Then why did you shut me out? Why did you leave me?" she demanded between sobs.

Lifting his head, Colton stared down at her fierce little face as she glared daggers at him, her green eyes glazed with betrayal even as they leaked her watery pain. "Shut you out?" he whispered in confusion.