Thank you for all the feedback and support on this story. I never expected so many people to respond positively. <3
This is stand alone fluff for these two characters. I'm trying to decide which one of my stories to post next. Thank you guys so much for your interest in my work. I'll submit something new next week.
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Colton's right hand pat the ground around him, looking for his oil pan as his left finished screwing off the drain bolt above him. He frowned; the sound of the garage door met his ears as what little sunlight he had coming from outside his LED lamp began to disappear. "I'm workin' Sunshine," he called out to his little sister as the door finished its decent.
The overhead light flickered on. "I know," Heather's sing song voice called out to him as she stood next to his feet, her hands clasped behind her back as she smirked down at what she could see of his lower body.
"Ya need something?" he asked, shoving the pan into place.
"You could say that," she responded cryptically.
Using his feet to propel him, Colton rolled out from under the Dodge Challenger, his sister's shapely bare legs catching his attention. He arched a brow at her suspiciously as he sat up on his creeper. She was wearing a short red sundress that hugged her curves in all the right places, accentuating her waist and breasts before flaring out at her hips. Her hair hung loosely around her shoulders in careless waves, drawing attention to the natural beauty of her vibrant green eyes and full pink lips. "What do you need?" he asked, doing his utmost to keep his mind on her response.
"I need some attention," she told him rather seriously, her hands on her hips in mock annoyance.
He smirked at her, shaking his head, his shaggy black bangs falling in his hazel eyes as he rested his forearms on his knees, his wrench hanging limply from a large hand between them. "Pretty sure I gave ya plenty of attention before I got up this morning," he teased, referencing their languid morning sex.
Heather grinned at him mischievously, "ah, but Colt, I need more," she teased, dragging out the final word.
"Is that why you closed my door? For privacy?" he asked, gesturing at the bay door with his wrench. Heather nodded vigorously. Rolling his eyes, Colton laid back on his creeper and pushed himself back under the car. "Well I promise to give ya my undivided attention as soon as I finish up in here," he swore, moving the oil pan aside so he could fit the nut back over the drain.
Sighing, Heather leaned back against Colton's workbench and glared at his legs. Her brother was a meticulous man and insisted on finishing everything he started. In the two months she'd been living with him after fleeing their abusive father, she had yet to be able to rip Colton away from anything mid task.
Feeling naughty, Heather studied the crotch of his jeans as he worked, thinking that her brother's cock was impressive, not just for its size but the pleasure he brought her with it.
She momentarily contemplated getting on her knees between his bent legs, undoing his jeans and taking that tantalizing rod into her mouth right there on the garage floor. She doubted Colton would allow it though, he'd probably ruin her fun by pushing her off the moment she touched his zipper.
Settling on plan B, Heather stepped over him, leaning her ass and her hands on the car, she slipped off one black flat and placed her delicate foot gently over his crotch, massaging the area with the ball of her foot and her cute, little, red painted toes.
She giggled when she heard his wrench clang off something on the underside of his car followed by a muffled curse. An instant later his large, calloused, dirty hand circled the ankle of her grounded foot, squeezing it gently in reprimand even as he began to harden under the other.
"Heather," his baritone growled in warning.
"Mmmmm, Colt," she moaned wantonly, forcing the sound, her eyes flashing with amusement, a grin on her mouth as the fingers on her ankle tightened. He rolled out from under the car a moment later, her foot sliding over his body to rest on his sternum as he glared up at her, severely unimpressed.
"Heather," he rumbled again, his tone reminding her of their father when he was seconds from snapping at her. She grinned, the sound exciting her. Colton losing his control with her was the stuff of pleasurable fantasies. Heather loved being a brat to him, daring him to punish her. Last week he'd bent her over his knee and spanked her, alternating between stuffing her pussy full of his thick fingers and reddening her ass with sharp slaps. She'd cum so hard she was surprised she hadn't stained the couch.
"Yes?" she replied innocently, wondering how he managed to still be so intimidating when he was literally underfoot, on his back.
Taking a deep breath, Colton closed his eyes, drawing from his seemingly endless well of patience when it came to his sister, he forced himself not to look up at her lavender panties. "I told you, I'm almost done," he promised, his tone suddenly even and unbothered.
Heather cocked her head, a small, satisfied smile on her lips, amused to observe that despite his tone of voice, his cock was still hard and he had a white-knuckle grip on his wrench. "I'm not something you can just add to your to-do list lover, maybe I'll be busy later," she teased.
Colton sighed and moved to sit up when Heather pressed down aggressively on his chest with her foot, pinning him to his creeper. His hazel eyes swirled a shade darker as his brows snapped low, his mouth curling down in annoyance. "Do I have your attention now?" Heather drawled, meeting his gaze with a pleasant smile.
Grunting in annoyance, Colton clenched and unclenched his jaw. If it were anyone else, he'd have collapsed their knee out from under them, pinned them to the ground in a hammer lock and smashed their face into the concrete beneath him for daring to step on him.
Heather though...Heather was the exception to everything, and her boldness was almost cute, foolish...but cute. They both knew she had no real control right now, keeping him on his back had been a result of her catching him by surprise, nothing more. "You're playing with fire," he warned one last time.
Heather licked her lips in anticipation, "I can't wait for you to burn me," she whispered, "I love it when you're hot, when your muscles get tense and your eyes get dangerous like that. Watching you lose control has always excited me."
Arching a brow in surprise, Colton felt his annoyance leave him in the face of her confession. He'd always worried he scared her when he lashed out as a kid. He'd had no idea she enjoyed watching him devolve into an animal.
Brushing her foot aside, he sat up. Setting his full oil pan on his bench, he reached for the bottle of 5W20 and set it by the hood before lowering his jack. "You do, eh?" he murmured, watching her disappointed face as he moved.
Heather nodded, slipping back on her shoe as she trailed his movement. "Yeah, do you remember the house party you threw when you were twenty? The night Jarod made passes at me?"
Pretending the memory had not just snapped him back into a quiet territorial stewing, Colton nodded and opened the Challenger's hood, unscrewing the oil cap. "I remember," he acknowledged, doing his best to keep his mind on his work.
"That was the hottest thing I'd ever seen. Reminded me of something one of the male leads from my highland romance series would have done for their women," she told him dreamily.
Colton sighed, not particularly proud of himself despite her praise; Jarod had been a fairly good friend of his until that night. He had made the mistake of drinking, which had inhibited the already fragile hold he had on his anger. When he'd looked over from his spot on the couch and seen Jarod whispering in his sister's ear, her eyes wide with aroused surprise and the other man's hand caressing her hips suggestively, he'd seen red. When Jarod had slipped his hand over her ass and squeezed, he'd completely lost it.
Colton hadn't realized he'd had the man slammed on the wall skittering on his tippy toes, with his forearm under his jaw and over his throat until Heather had screamed, Jarod gasping with horrified eyes as he choked. Colton shuddered, glad his training had kicked in and he'd put the man in a side restraint and not actually crushed his trachea. "The men in your books are barbarians," he commented dryly. "That actually turned you on?" he asked in surprise as he placed his funnel and began refilling the engine oil.
"I touched myself to that memory, many times," she told him seriously, her hand running over his tattooed upper arm as he worked.
Colton cringed, not sure how to feel about that. He knew his sister enjoyed his dominance over her, he hadn't realized she thought his mindless rage was attractive. It certainly wasn't something he prided himself on.
"Why?" he asked, genuinely confused. Personally, the memory disgusted him, both for his lack of restraint and how viscerally he still reacted to thinking about Jarod touching her.
"Because you stopped the minute I asked you to," she explained, wrapping her arms around his waist as she pressed her cheek against his spine. "Made me feel powerful to know I could control you when no one else could. Not even Dad. That you cared so much what I thought of you. That you went out of your way to make sure I was okay when Jarod was the one you'd hurt."
Colton inhaled sharply; she wasn't wrong. He couldn't remember ever stopping another fight because someone had asked him to, his Sensei had had to pull him off too many opponents as a child, kicking his ass in retribution, warning him to learn some fucking self control or he'd stop teaching him. He'd dedicated his life to developing his self discipline. That night with Jarod had been the first time he'd lost his cool like that in years.
