It was never explained to me why Devon didn't live with us. That is, until my parents divorced and my mother married Charlie. And then, only days after, Devon came back.
My mother seemed happy to see him. For me, it was less happy and more surreal. Suddenly, this stranger I'd only heard about was back, living in our house. It was as if the years he'd been gone were nothing more than a blip on the radar...
"Hi, Lizzie," he said, cornering me. He'd been back only one day and spent it unpacking in the room next to mine.
He was gorgeous and although he was my brother, having him near made my heart skip. His perfectly cut dark hair and muscular build reminded me of magazine models my girlfriends and I laughingly drooled over. Having one so close, my brother at that, was more than enough to make me nervous. Five years older, he was twenty-three and seemed lifetimes more experienced than I was.
"Hi, Devon. Did you get...settled in?" I asked, uncomfortable. He had me cornered in a hallway and all I wanted to do was escape. His eyes were a piercing green and made me uncomfortable. He looked at me like he knew everything and wanted everything, all in one expression.
"Sure," he replied, "enough. I've been looking forward to getting to know you better." The way he said it, I could tell there was a meaning behind his words I didn't understand.
"Sure, that'd be great. I have to go to work but maybe later," I responded, wary. I tried to inch to the side a bit but he put an arm up, casually blocking my exit.
"You're so pretty, Lizzie," he said softly. He trailed a finger over my shoulder to my collarbone. I shivered. I wasn't sure whether to move or not. Something in his gaze held me still and I was afraid to move, afraid it would be the wrong thing to do. He traced his finger back over and down my upper arm. He wasn't looking at me, he was watching his finger as it made its way to my elbow. Suddenly, he looked at me again, intensely.
"I've missed you," he whispered. My eyes locked on his and I couldn't look away. My breath left in a whoosh and my mouth fell open a little. He was staring at me like...something other than a brother.
"I...I have to go, Devon," I stammered. His hand was suddenly at my waist, traveling upward over my ribcage. He stopped at my breast, letting his thumb sweep lightly over it, rubbing back and forth slowly over my nipple. It hardened instantly. I had lost the ability to speak, I was so stunned. He leaned in even closer, putting his face next to mine, still rubbing my nipple in slow circles.
"When will you be back?" he breathed into my ear.
I finally regained some sense of reality and put my hands on his chest, pushing him back. He was scaring me, not just because of the way he was touching me but the way it made me feel. It excited me. I blushed, even in my anger.
"I'll be back later. I'm going," I said firmly. I went to my room, grabbed my bag and left.
After my shift at the bookstore, I lingered for a while with my co-workers. I was scared and excited at the same time about the prospect of going home. One part of me was furious with Devon for touching me the way he had. Another deeper part of me had enjoyed it. He was my brother, I reminded myself. But he was also the most gorgeous man I'd ever seen and had all the dark, dangerous qualities that appealed to me on a level I wasn't ready to fully admit.
I wasted as much time as I could, thinking it over in my head. I was trying to decide what to do, how to handle things when I went home. My mother and Charlie were almost never there, I wasn't even sure they'd be home tonight. They often stayed at friends' houses, where they got drunk and pretended to be in their twenties again. At midnight, I realized I had to go home.
When I opened the door of the house, the lights were off and everything was quiet. Charlie's car was gone, so I figured they were out. I wasn't sure whether Devon was home, but I guessed probably not. I didn't think he'd be in bed already and no one was waiting up. I made my way to my room and turned on my bedside lamp.
I stripped off my work clothes and donned a tank top and fresh panties. I went to my bathroom and brushed out my long brown hair. Looking in the mirror, I assessed myself. Large gray eyes, arched brows, clear skin. My lips were full and pouty. I'd had my fair share of attention from boys in high school but I wasn't beautiful like some of the girls in my freshman classes at the university. Sighing, I realized I was trying to figure out if I was worthy of the attention of my brother.
I turned out the bathroom light and crawled under the covers. I reached over, switching off the bedside lamp and closed my eyes, ready to drift off to sleep. I didn't hear the door open. I didn't hear Devon until he was beside my bed.
I gasped when I saw him and started to sit up. He was standing beside my bed, just looking at me in the moonlight. His expression was unreadable. He put a hand on my shoulder, pushing me back down on the bed. He pulled back the covers and climbed in on top of me, balancing his weight to the side so as not to crush me.
"I was waiting for you," he whispered softly into my ear. His lips grazed the side of my face and I shivered. I didn't know what to say. His hand was at my waist and moved under my tank top, up to my breast. He cupped it in his hand, brushing his thumb over my nipple.
"Do you like that?" He asked softly. I wanted to say no, needed to say no. Inside, I did like it and he knew it.
"No. Please stop, Devon, this isn't right," I said softly. I started to move away from him and he caught my arms, moving them above my head. Before I thought about putting up serious resistance, he had captured both my arms against the bed with one of his hands around my wrists.
"I think you do," he said softly, his fingers pulling my nipple, then moving to my other breast. His body was tight against mine and I could feel his cock, hard and straining against my leg. His head dipped down and he licked my nipple. The sensation gave me chills and I felt a tingling between my legs. I tried to control the urge to push my pussy against his thigh where it sat between my legs.
My breasts weren't small, I was a full C cup. He moaned when he took one in his mouth and started sucking. He moved his tongue back and forth against my nipple and I thrashed my head to the side, trying to push away the intense feelings of arousal that washed over me.
He stopped suddenly, moving his face inches above mine. I stopped moving, realizing I'd been writhing against him. I hadn't even noticed him remove my tank top. His breathing was heavy and he smiled at me slowly, his eyes burning against mine.
"Tell me you want me," he said, his eyes locked on mine.
"No," I protested. I did want him and he knew it, but I'd be damned if I'd say it to him.
"You want me to stop? You want me to leave?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow.
"Yes," I agreed, hoping the lie wasn't too apparent. He shook his head slowly from side to side.
"I don't think so," he said softly, "I think you like it. I think you like me touching you. You like feeling my tongue on you, tasting you. Do you want me to show you again? Show you how hard your nipples get when I suck on them?" My nipples were hard just from hearing him talk. He was squeezing my breasts as he said it and his hand moved lower, to my waist.
