But I thought Zayn was sincere. And he was the only boy I’d ever really talked to—about real things. Spiritual things. Things that meant something, to both of us. He was an only child and so was I.
My mother was the choir director at our church. Pastor Robert used to say, “Rita makes the angels take notice.” She was a soprano—a very high soprano—and when she sang, it really was like an angel. My voice was nothing in comparison and, being her daughter, it was hard to live up to. But Zayn told me he loved my voice even more than hers. He made me love singing.
He made me love him.
Maybe it was that devil’s tongue after all…
We were singing when we first met Zayn and his dad.
It was a couple days after Easter and I was helping my mother take down the decorations at the church. Pastor Robert had retired, and we knew the new pastor would arrive before the following Sunday.
Mom told me the new pastor would think his parishioners were lazy if he came in and saw a bunch of old Easter decorations. So, we went around, taking down the Easter eggs the children’s groups had colored, sorting them by class, so the teachers could hand them back to the students. We were singing, “Peace Is Flowing Like a River,” as we worked and didn’t even hear Zayn and Pastor Dave come into the church.
“What a beautiful song,” Pastor Dave said from behind us.
My mother startled, holding her hand over her heart as she whirled around.
I wasn’t as surprised—I’d seen them coming out of the corner of my eye, but had been too engrossed in getting a bit of tape off the glass to turn and see who was coming. There were more of us scattered around the church, taking down Easter decorations. They could have been anyone.
But it was Zayn, along with the man who would become my stepfather.
Pastor Dave stood there with a suitcase in one hand, his coat in the other. He was a handsome man with a winsome smile. His dark hair was curly, greying just a little at the temples. Zayn stood beside him in miniature, holding another suitcase. His hair was cut short, close-cropped, but he had the same smile, the same dimples. I thought he was cute.
My mother held out her hand, once she was over her fright, and greeted them with a warm smile. “You must be Pastor Dave. Is this your son?”
“Indeed.” There was that winsome smile that Pastor Dave used to sweep my mother off her feet. I didn’t notice then, but she flushed every time he was around. “This is Zayn. He likes baseball, he’s good at math, and he’s a fine servant of the Lord.”
“Nice to meet you.” Zayn looked embarrassed by his father’s big introduction.
Mom introduced us. “I’m Rita and this is my daughter, Melinda.”
“Linnie.” I corrected her. I hated my full name and didn’t want the new pastor and his boy calling me by it.
“Hello, Linnie.” Pastor Dave smiled at me. “Do you sing like an angel, too?”
I shook my head, blushing. “She’s better than me.”
“Nonsense.” My mother put an arm around my shoulder. “She’s the best girl out of all my altos.”
It was like saying I was her favorite daughter—when I was her only daughter.
“Welcome to our church,” I said, eager to change the subject. “What brings you to Michigan?”
“I go where the Lord sends me, Linnie—and he’s sent me to your beautiful city and this beautiful church.” He turned completely around to look at the chapel. “It’s perfect. No need to change anything. And I do hope you’re the choir director, Rita, because I’m drafting you for the job if you’re not.”
“I am.”
That’s when I first noticed that Mom couldn’t stop smiling at the guy who would eventually become my stepdad. It was funny, because that’s when I noticed that Zayn, the boy who would eventually become my stepbrother, couldn’t stop smiling at me, either.
My biological father fell down some stairs when I was seven and blew out his knee. Knee replacement surgery revealed bone cancer. He was gone before I was eight. Mom never remarried. She said the Lord would bring her the right man at the right time, if that was His will. Zayn’s mother was killed by a drunk driver who fell asleep behind the wheel and hit their mini-van head-on while she was heading to the bakery to get cookies for a church social. Zane had been a baby, a passenger in that minivan, saved only by the will of God. Pastor Dave sought solace in the Lord and became such a passionate pastor that he didn’t have time to find someone new—until he met my mother.
They were married within a year. Pastor Dave became “Dad” and Zayn became my same-age brother. He was awkward around me at first, sometimes tripping over his own feet or avoiding long conversations with me. We sang together in the choir and bonded over math homework. He helped me out quite a bit during our last two years of high school, and I repaid him by introducing him to Jess.
Jess had been my best friend since our freshman year of high school. We didn’t go to the same church, but that didn’t matter. Jess and I were in choir together at school and only disagreed on one thing—sex.
Abstinence was important to me. I’d even signed an abstinence contract our church gave out in our youth group. It wasn’t anything legally binding, of course. It was more of a pledge to Jesus and to ourselves to wait until we married the right person. Zayn signed one, too, and even held to it when he and Jess started dating. That was more than I could say for a lot of boys that went to our church.
“I just don’t get it,” Jess said when I tried to explain the contract to her. “You make a pledge to not have sex until you’re married? Why? It’s not natural.”
“What do you mean, it’s not natural?”
“Sex is natural. It’s the most natural thing in the world.” Jess rolled over onto her belly on my bed, phone in hand, kicking her feet as she looked at me, where I sat doing homework at my desk. “Linnie—vaginas need penises.”
I couldn’t help laughing at the seriousness of her tone. “Not until you’re married. Sex is meant to be saved for marriage.”
“Says who?” Jess scoffed. We were seniors by then, ready to go out into the world. Sheep among the wolves. That’s what Pastor Dave—the man I now called “Dad”—would say. “Honestly, Linnie… we should be getting laid.”
“Don’t be so…” I wrinkled my nose. “Crude.”
“Sex is crude.” Jess sat up, cross-legged now, and I could see up her short skirt. I averted my eyes, blushing. “It’s crude and lewd and nude and… I can’t think of anything else that rhymes. But it’s hot. And it’s sex. You’re supposed to talk dirty and… and… fuck!”
I gaped at her. “I don’t want sex like that.”
“Why the heck not?” Jess grumbled, backing off from the obscenities. “I sure do. I want some big, hard co—er… penis—sliding inside me. God, I’m wet just thinking about it.”
“Jess…” My tone held a warning, and I turned back to my math homework to hide my red face.
“Linnie, come on.” She wasn’t letting it go. “You’re so pretty that you should be getting dick whenever you want it.”
“I don’t want…” I cleared my throat. “Just any dick.”
She hooted at my use of the word.
“I want to wait for the right guy.”
“Zayn’s the right guy for me.” Then Jess groaned, sounding pained, throwing herself dramatically down on the bed and putting her arm over her eyes. “Your brother is so hot, Linnie. I just gotta figure out a way to get into his pants.”
I sighed.
Jess and I repeated this conversation for months. I’d watched her and Zayn at school. She would hang all over him and show up in some outfit that showed off her legs or breasts. I noticed a lot of other boys, and even some girls, staring at her and making comments about her chest or her butt. I’d tell her to back off the slutty clothes and she’d show up in something even crazier the next day.
Jess was always on her best behavior at our house, or at least that’s what Mom and Dad thought. Jess would show up in nice clothes that didn’t show off her body and was always polite and never did anything that would get her or Zayn in trouble.
She’d wait for Mom and Dad to either leave the room or for them to look away for a moment and she’d squeeze Zayn’s thigh or lick his ear. Zayn would always push her hand away or shoot her a dirty look. He knew he’d be in serious trouble if our parents caught them.
Jess got more aggressive after we all graduated high school. She knew Zayn was thinking about going into the military or to Grand Valley to play baseball, and she would be off to Michigan State by the fall. She was getting desperate, Zayn was getting annoyed, and I was stuck between my best friend and my brother.
Jess and I were in the Arby’s drive-thru when the subject of her and Zayn having sex came up yet again as she ordered a large beef sandwich.
“I wish your brother would give me his hot beef,” she lamented.
I rolled my eyes. “Is that all you ever think about?”
“Why shouldn’t I? Your brother has such a hot body, Linnie. All that baseball has done him good. I should be having sex with him and you should be having sex with Bud.”
A rush of heat went to my face when she said it. Bud was one of Zayn’s baseball teammates. It was the first I heard anything about him being attracted to me.
“Bud? Why Bud?”
Jess looked surprised. “Haven’t you noticed how he always perks up whenever you’re around? He asks me about you all the time, and he flat-out told me you have the best ass he’s ever seen.”
I squirmed in the passenger seat of Jess’s car. I had no idea how to react or what to think. “That’s…nice, I guess… but Bud’s not my type.”
“Thank God.” Jess handed the drive-thru attendant her money. “I was beginning to think you either didn’t have a type or were secretly into girls. Who is your type? Chad Trotter? You two are always cracking jokes in choir.”
“Chad’s gay.”
Jess almost dropped her sandwich as the girl at the window handed it to her. “Chad Trotter’s gay?”
“I can’t believe I knew this and you didn’t. It’s not like he hides it.”
Jess pulled the car into a spot so she could eat. “So… who’s your type?”
“I haven’t thought about it.”
“You’re a liar.”
“God will lead me to the right man.”
“But haven’t you ever imagined what he might look like?”
She had me there. “I suppose so.”
Jess laughed. “I knew it. Who is he?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know if he’s one particular guy. Somebody who loves the Lord, for one. Someone who knows He’s led him to me. Someone handsome and quiet. Brown eyes, strong hands and arms that he could use to build us a house. Maybe a little bit of a beard.”
“So… someone like Zayn.”
Muscles in my neck twitched when she said it. “Wh… what?”
“You pretty much just described Zayn.” Jess grinned at me and took another bite of her sandwich, chewing thoughtfully. Then, she exclaimed, “Holy crap! Linnie, do you have a crush on your stepbrother?”
My stomach did a flip-flop. “Heavens, no! Why on Earth would you think that I wanted to…to…” I couldn’t finish the sentence or even the thought. It was disgusting, immoral, and just plain wrong. It was so wrong that I didn’t want to think about it.
But Jess wouldn’t let it go.
“I wouldn’t blame you if you did.” She licked Arby’s sauce off her lips. “He’s a dream. Those brown eyes are sweeter than chocolate. And he knows how to work that strong, silent vibe. I just wish he wasn’t so uptight. He barely even kissed me at prom. Everyone else gets laid after prom, but not me.”
I shrugged again. “I didn’t either.”
“You didn’t even go to prom because you hadn’t met the ‘right guy’.” Jess rolled her eyes. Then she smirked. “Although Bud would’ve wined, dined, and sixty-nined you, if you’d gone with him.”
“Why didn’t he say anything?”
“Who knows? I’m more curious now about whether or not Zayn knows you have a crush on him.”
“I do not have a crush on my brother!”
The words came out a lot stronger than I had intended.
“Okay, okay. I’m just messing with you,” Jess said.
“It’s not funny,” I said. “It’s not funny at all. It’s disgusting. It’s wrong. It’s wrong, wrong, wrong.”
“All right, all right. You’ve convinced me.”
I looked out the window as she crumpled the paper from her finished sandwich and put the car into gear. She headed toward my house and things got quiet. Houses whizzed by, but I wasn’t focused on the scenery. She was right—the idea that I had a crush on Zayn had messed with me. The idea had my heart beating so fast, I had to take several deep breaths to keep calm. It was a ridiculous idea. An insane idea.
Why would Jess say that, anyway? Zayn was her guy. Didn’t it make her jealous, to think about him being with someone else? If he was mine, I thought, it would drive me crazy to think about him with another girl.
“The sex will be great after you and Zayn get married,” I said softly out the window, breaking the silence. “You’ll be glad you waited.”
Jess looked over at me like I’d just grown a unicorn horn. “Who says I’m going to marry him?”
Now I was the confused one.
I blinked at her. “You’ve been dating for almost two years.”
“So?”
“He… he likes you, Jess.”
“Maybe.” She snorted. “But not enough to get busy with me. How am I supposed to marry someone if I don’t know if they’re good in bed or not? Sex is a huge part of marriage, Linnie. Bad sex can ruin a marriage. So can no sex at all. I’m not getting anything from Zayn now. How do I know he’ll be interested even after we’re married?”
“Of course, he will.” I gave her a puzzled look. Was she crazy? “He’s just standing by his abstinence contract.”
“We’re back to that again.” Jess sighed. “It’s a great excuse for him to not have sex with me, isn’t it?”
“It’s not about that.” I frowned as she turned down my street. I couldn’t figure out how to explain it to her. She didn’t go to our church—didn’t go to any church—and it didn’t make any sense to her, the idea of abstinence. I think, for a long time, she took it as a challenge. Now, she was just getting tired of it. I wondered if she was going to break up with Zayn.
And why does that thought make me so happy?
I glanced guiltily over at my best friend as she pulled up in front of my house.
She sat there, the car idling, looking off into the distance.
“What?” I asked after a long moment of silence. “What is it?”
“Is Zayn gay?” She cocked her head and looked at me.
I laughed. “Are you kidding?”
“Maybe my gaydar is broken.” She didn’t seem to find the idea as funny as I did. “I didn’t know Chad Trotter was gay. And Zayn’s shown no interest in me at all, at least in terms of sex. He hasn’t shown that interest with… anyone, as far as I know.”
“Zayn’s not gay.”
“Does he have a side chick?” She turned more fully toward me. “Tell me the truth!”
“No!” I exclaimed. “Of course not.”
“Then he’s got to be gay. Oh my God, how could I not see it?” She put her forehead down on the steering wheel.
“He’s not gay, Jess!” I was dumbfounded.
“Think about it.” She shook her head, not lifting it. “It makes perfect sense, Linnie. He’s dating me because he doesn’t want to be outed… and the abstinence contract helps him stay in the closet.”
“No.” I couldn’t believe what she was saying. But there was a certain logic about it that I didn’t like. “Listen, Jess… I don’t think he’s gay. But… let me talk to him.”
“No, don’t.” Jess sat up. “I need to think about this for a while. Maybe I’m overreacting. Or maybe he’s planning on screwing my brains out before he leaves for the army or whatever. Or… maybe I’ve been wasting my time for two years.”
I was filled with a sudden, hot anger at her words. She’d wasted two years on my brother, had she? Just because he wanted to stick to his convictions and stay abstinent?
“I’ve got to go,” I said, opening the car door before I could say anything I’d regret later. “I’ll see you Monday.”
I shut the door a little too hard and stalked up the sidewalk to my house, not turning around when she pulled the car away from the curb.
I went upstairs and changed out of my school clothes, still mad. But by the time I’d pulled out my homework, I was smiling at the idea that Jess thought Zayn was gay. It was almost as absurd as her thinking I had a crush on him.
Snorting a little laugh, I went to my desk and tried to concentrate on imaginary numbers, but they were too hard. I needed Zayn to help me, and he wouldn’t be home for hours. Baseball practice. The thought of him in his uniform, squatting down behind the plate—he was a catcher—filled my body with an inexplicable sort of heat, like I had a fever. Maybe I did have a fever? I felt my forehead and it was hot.
I went to the bathroom and got the digital thermometer, popping it into my mouth and closing the medicine cabinet, facing myself in the mirror. I remembered what Jess said about me being pretty, and how Bud apparently liked me. I tucked a strand of blonde hair behind my ear, wondering if it was true. I didn’t feel anything for Bud at all. But it was nice to think that someone thought I was pretty.
Does Zayn think I’m pretty?
The thermometer beeped and I took it out. 98.6. I was perfectly normal. So why was I so hot and flushed and tingly all over? I wandered back to my room and decided to try to take a little nap. Maybe I was getting sick and just didn’t know it.
Or maybe you have a crush on your stepbrother and you don’t know it.
I turned my hot face into the coolness of my pillow and let out a little groan. It wasn’t true, what Jess had said. It couldn’t be true. When she’d pressed me, I’d managed to describe my dream man, and so what if it turned out to be someone a lot like Zayn? He was a great guy, and we’d lived together for two years. It was only natural he’d be an influence on me and my choices in men, right?
That’s what I told myself as I started to drift off. It wasn’t Zayn I wanted. It was someone like Zayn. Someone sweet and funny. Someone who made me laugh and hugged me when I cried. Someone who knew what I was thinking even before I said it, who finished my sentences the way he did sometimes. Someone who stuck up for me and told me I had a beautiful voice, even though I knew it wasn’t as good as a lot of other girls in the choir. Someone who let me fall asleep with my head in his lap on the couch watching Stranger Things, who stroked my hair while I was asleep.
All those things Zayn did already.
I didn’t understand what Jess thought she was missing. She’d gotten the best guy in school. Bud couldn’t even come close. She’d been right about Zayn’s physique. He went to school early every day to work out in the school’s gym. I’d seen him walking down the hallway at home after a shower, a towel wrapped around his hips. He was tanned and toned. His abdomen alone was like a road full of speedbumps, clear, defined hills and valleys. His biceps bulged when he wore short-sleeved t-shirts, even when he wasn’t flexing.
And why have you been paying such close attention to his body, huh?
I rolled over fitfully on my bed, tangling the blankets between my legs. I couldn’t get comfortable. The more I thought about what Jess had said, the more uncomfortable I felt. Well, heck, I was human, wasn’t I? A girl couldn’t help noticing Zayn and how good-looking he was. It wasn’t my fault he was my stepbrother. My mom had decided to marry his dad. I hadn’t been consulted in the matter. It had just been something that had happened, that we all had to live with.
But what about before that?
I didn’t want to think about it—the way Zayn had smiled at me, the way his gaze had followed me around the choir room.
What about the time he kissed you?
I moaned and tugged the covers up between my thighs, feeling a low buzz between my legs that hummed like something electric. The covers were bunched up against the crotch of my yoga pants and I squeezed my legs together at the memory of Zayn’s lips pressed to mine.
It had happened at the church, soon after Pastor Dave had started preaching his first sermon—kind of ironic, my first kiss in the house of the Lord. I’d been in the supply closet, looking for packets of construction paper for the children’s program that morning, and Zayn had come into the closet, shutting the door behind him. That left us in total darkness—the only light came from the slit under the door.
“What are you doing?” I’d whispered.
“Nothing,” he whispered back.
Then, he’d reached for me, grabbing my upper arms and pulling me close.
“Zayn.” I bit my lip, feeling his breath, sweet and warm, against my face. “Don’t…”
My heart was beating so hard I thought it would burst out of my chest. And I had that same feverish feeling, all over my body, warm and tingly.
He sighed and let me go. “Okay.”
But I’d stopped him when he reached for the doorknob, putting my hand over his.
“Wait.” My voice had almost disappeared, had gone all breathy. “Don’t. I…”
“Linnie, I have to kiss you.” He sounded pained, like it hurt him to be holding back.
“Oh,” I breathed. “Oh yes. Please.”
And he had. The memory of his mouth on mine was something I’d never forget, the soft press of his full lips, the sweet way his tongue had asked for entry, how I’d opened to him without a second thought. It was like my body instantly knew what to do. There was no awkward feeling or strangeness about it. Our mouths fit together perfectly. Zayn’s arms around me felt so right. I put my arms around his neck and pressed myself against him. I wanted to crawl right into him somehow, that’s what it felt like.
When we parted, we were both panting, breathless.
Then the supply closet had opened and Mrs. Schwab was there, asking if I had found the paper. I grabbed it from where it had fallen on the floor, my face a hundred shades of red, and followed her out. I hadn’t even looked back at Zayn. I don’t know if she ever told my mother or Pastor Dave what she’d seen. I still wondered about that.
But it didn’t matter—because there would be no kissing in our future, once our parents started dating each other. Given how strong my feelings for Zayn had been in that moment, it had been a kind of relief, knowing he was off-limits. We’d shut the door on that kiss—locked it up in a dark place, like the supply closet it had taken place in, throwing away the key.
That’s what I’d thought—until Jess hinted at me having a crush on Zayn.
It’s true. Just admit it. You’ve always had a crush on him.
I whimpered and turned over on the bed again. What did it matter? There was nothing I could do about it, even if it was true. Zayn and Jess had been dating for almost two years. They were a couple. And Zayn was my stepbrother. He was off-limits and always would be. There was nothing I could do about that.
But you can keep him from a loveless marriage.
My eyes popped open. Jess’s words came back to me, everything she had said about her and Zayn. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. If that was how she felt, then she didn’t deserve him. Why wasn’t she willing to wait for him? I would be, I thought, turning my pillow to the cool side and punching it hard to fluff it up.
No, you wouldn’t. You wanted to jump him that day in the closet.
I moaned at the truth of that thought. What if we hadn’t been interrupted? What would have happened that day? What if Zayn had reached over and locked the door? Would we have ended up rutting on the supply closet floor like two animals?
The thought disgusted me. It also excited me beyond belief.
I closed my eyes and tried to pray.
Dear God, give me strength. Let me follow the right path, the one you want for me. I’m trying so hard to do the right thing. I don’t mean to think impure thoughts, Lord, really I don’t. But these feelings are so strong, and I just don’t know what to do about them.
I prayed, but the impure thoughts came to me anyway. All those dirty words that Jess had taught me over the years kept coming back. Words like cock and pussy and tits and, oh God, please help me, words like fuck and, worse, the verb, fucking, which implied an action I wasn’t allowed to take, as much as I ached for it, like there was a hole inside of me that desperately wanted to be filled… fucked…
“Zayn,” I whispered into my pillow, hoping no one heard me—especially God. “Oh Zayn, I want you, I want you so much…”
It was an admission even I couldn’t bear. I willed myself to drift away from my thoughts, to go to sleep, so I wouldn’t think these sinful things anymore. But my subconscious was already at work, ready to fill me with dreams of my stepbrother, of his hard, lean body and his warm, soft lips, his big, strong hands. My body twisted, sweaty and hot, and I moaned in my sleep, caught in a web of my own subconscious’s making. I couldn’t escape, even in my dreams.
I was full of Zayn, full to the hilt with him, and I liked it.
Oh God, help me, I loved it.
I woke up shuddering, moaning and throbbing all over, from my toes to my fingertips, the covers a tangled mess, pulled taut between my legs. But especially there, everything spasming with pleasure at my core. In spite of that, there was no release. Because I wanted him, still.
Zayn.
I let out a little sob and slipped out of bed, getting onto my knees to pray. I prayed for guidance and strength. I prayed for Jess, and I prayed for Zayn. I prayed he would understand what I had to tell him. He had to know. It was best that he did.
I decided to tell him that night. It was a Friday and he was up late.
Mom and Dad were in bed and he was watching the Tigers-Rangers game in the living room. He was on the couch, wearing his pajamas. He didn’t even notice I was there. I’d stood behind him for a while, wondering if I should just go to bed and forget about it. He and Jess were a cute couple, but she wasn’t right for him. I knew that now, after everything she’d said. He would be great for her, for any girl, but Jess couldn’t see that. I didn’t want to break his heart, but not telling him about Jess’s thoughts would only mean I was part of the problem.
“Hey, Zayn.” I plopped down on the couch. “How’s the game?”
“They’re down 5-4 in the seventh.” He gave me a quick sideways hug with his right arm. “What are you doing up so late?”
I couldn’t look at him. Looking at him made me think strange things I knew I shouldn’t be thinking. “Nothing. I just wanted to hang out with you.”
“Fine by me. Just don’t freak out when I go nuts if the Tigers take the lead.”
He kept his arm around me, so I tucked my feet underneath me and laid my head on his shoulder. I didn’t mind baseball, but I mainly just wanted to be close to him. I needed to feel his strength, so it would remind me to be strong.
Finally, I worked up the courage to say, “I need to tell you something.”
He sensed the worry in my voice right away. I knew he would.
“What?” He picked up the TV remote and muted the volume. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s about Jess.” I took a deep breath and just went for it. I had to. “She doesn’t love you, Zayn. She only wants to have sex with you.”
He didn’t say anything, so I went on.
“She thinks our abstinence contracts are stupid—that our faith is stupid, really—and she can’t understand why you won’t have sex with her. She doesn’t want to marry you and… and she even asked me if you’re gay.”
Zayn sat silent for a moment, taking all of it in before he let out a little laugh. “She thinks I’m gay? Really?”
I nodded. “Yep.”
He let his head drop back against the cushions of the couch. “Wow. I’m at a loss for words right now. When did she tell you this?”
“She’s been going on about the sex thing for months, but… the gay thing just came out today.”
“The gay thing came out?” He chuckled. “No pun intended?”
I smiled. He could always make me laugh.
“Seriously, Zayn, she’s only interested in your…” I caught myself gesturing toward his crotch. I yanked my hand back, but it was too late. He’d noticed. I couldn’t hold back a giggle. “Your package.”
“My package?” He snickered. “Well, I can tell you one thing—I’m not delivering it to her.”
“You’re not?” Why did that make my heart swell so much?
“I’ve been trying to figure out a way to break up with her,” he confessed. I gaped at him, stunned. I couldn’t even believe it. “I know she wants to have sex, but I’m not going to give my, uh, package to just anyone.”
“But you’ve been dating for so long…”
“I know.” He sighed. “I guess it was easy. I’ve just kind of been waiting for the right girl to come along in the meantime.”
“That’s… kind of mean to Jess.” I frowned.
“Oh, I like Jess well enough.” His brow crinkled. “But she doesn’t seem to want the same things I do.”
“Like what?”
“Like… real intimacy.” He chewed his lower lip thoughtfully. “I want someone who really understands me. And, to be honest, someone who isn’t so shallow.”
“She is, kind of…” I nodded. “Shallow.”
“I want someone who…” He sighed and shook his head, looking down at the floor.
“Finishes your sentences?” I asked softly.
He lifted his face to look at me, and I saw a longing there that took my breath away.
“Someone like you, Linnie.” His hand moved through my hair, stroking gently. His voice trembled a little, and I thought there might be tears in his eyes. That was just before he leaned in and kissed me.
It brought back our first kiss in an instant. My first-ever kiss. Maybe his, too—I wasn’t sure. But we were older, now. Our bodies had changed. My body responded fervently. Instead of backing away—heaven help me—I kissed him right back. I put my arms around his neck and squirmed closer, felt his hands moving through my hair, tilting my head so his tongue could slip between my lips.
I breathed in the scent of his cologne and a musky, masculine smell underneath that, something that was uniquely Zayn. He breathed me in, too, his hands moving down to my shoulders, his thumbs stroking my collarbone on each side, sending hot sparks down my arms, all the way to my fingertips. My nipples hardened instantly under my t-shirt, poking out against the material.
“Linnie,” he whispered when we parted, his eyes fluttering open to look at me.
“Zayn.” I swallowed, biting my lip. Then my body took over. I wasn’t even me anymore—I kissed him again, moaning softly as I climbed into his lap, straddling him. He was wearing pajama pants and he couldn’t hide his erection. It rubbed up between my legs—I felt it through my yoga pants, making me squirm.
He moaned, too, when I did that, his tongue stroking a sensitive spot on the roof of my mouth, his hands sliding up my waist, over my t-shirt. I squeezed my thighs together, around his hips, so hungry and eager, rocking in his lap. Zayn’s hands moved higher still, until they were cupping my breasts. I cried out against his mouth when his palms grazed my nipples, making me shudder all over.
What in God’s name are you doing? He’s your brother!
It was that little voice that pushed me away from him. I met his startled gaze for a moment before I jumped off his lap and ran to my room. I didn’t look back. I ignored him calling after me. When I got to my room, I locked my door and dropped to my knees to pray for forgiveness.
Then I hid under the sheets of my bed and tried to sleep, but I couldn’t. I heard him come to my door. His footsteps stopped just outside. I waited for him to knock, wondering if I would answer it or not. But that knock never came. Instead, he walked away, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
And those thoughts were utterly impure.
I couldn’t get away from the feeling. The feel of his lips on mine, the pressure of his body against me, the smell of him, the steel bar that rose up between us, like the exclamation point at the end of a sentence, insisting on being noticed.
The more I remembered, the more uncontrollable the feeling became. I caught myself rubbing my own thighs through my yoga pants, almost touching myself between them. I wanted to do it. I thought it might end the thoughts I was having about Zayn, but another part of me knew it would only make them worse. Instead, I put a pillow between my legs and kept my hands above the sheets.
I woke up the next day to the sound of Dad knocking on my door, reminding me that he and Mom were leaving for Grand Rapids to see our church’s organist. She was in the hospital, recovering from a kidney operation.
Zayn and I were supposed to have the garage cleaned out by the time they got back. Part of me was nervous about being home alone with Zayn, but I was glad they’d given us a chore that would take the whole day. It would keep us busy for hours and our minds and hands occupied.
I got up to shower and noticed a sort of wet, squishy feeling between my thighs. My period? I wondered. I went into the bathroom to pee and found that my whole crotch was wet, almost like I’d peed myself. But this substance was thicker, sticky.
Then, I remembered my dream. It came in bits and pieces, snatches of memory, as I undressed and got under the water. I’d had a sex dream about Zayn. He’d touched me all over. Kissed me everywhere. Everywhere. I flushed at the memory of his face buried between my legs. Jess said, if Zayn would do that to her, she might be okay with waiting until marriage—that’s how good it felt. I didn’t ask her at the time how she knew that.
In my dream, he’d begged me to put it in my mouth. My mind had no concept of what it would feel like, so it had made something up—a throbbing ache in my throat, something that traveled down my body, straight between my legs. I soaped myself up, catching more snippets, flashes of Zayn on top of me, his eyes gazing into mine as he slid himself inside of me. My body didn’t know what that would feel like either, but I could remember a feeling of fullness, anyway, far more satisifying than I could ever have believed.
I found my hands lingering on my breasts, rubbing the soap over my nipples. It gave me a shivery sensation and made that throbbing between my legs oh so much worse. I had hoped the water would wash away my impure thoughts, but the heat and soap only seemed to make everything on my body slippery and more sensitive.
I reached down with soapy hands to wash between my legs, sliding the bar of soap up and down. My hair down there was wiry and honey-blonde. Jess told me I should shave it—said boys liked it that way these days. It was fashionable, she said. I didn’t care about making it fashionable. And her other reason—that it made everything more sensitive when you shaved—was the perfect reason for me not to do it. I didn’t want to be any more sensitive down there.
But it was incredibly sensitive now.
I’d never intentionally touched myself before, unless I was washing. It was part of the abstinence contract. Masturbation was a sin. But when the edge of the soap brushed my clitoris—I knew what it was, and where it was, and how it all worked, from health class, and I knew all the naughty words, too, from Jess—I couldn’t help it. I dropped the bar of soap and circled that little button with my finger, shuddering and letting out a low moan.
I couldn’t think of anything but Zayn. The way he’d kissed me and caressed my breasts. The Zayn from my dream, his mouth—his mouth!—between my legs. Would it feel like this, rubbing up and down, back and forth? And then, seeing him poised over me, feeling him sliding into me. Oh God. I shivered, the fingers of my other hand creeping lower, probing the place where he would enter me. Would it feel like this, one finger, two, sliding in and out?
I had to stop the thoughts racing through my head. I had to. Instinctively, I knew this would do it, this rubbing and writhing between my legs. It didn’t take long before I was crying out, shuddering all over. My legs trembled and I had to lean on the back wall of the shower to keep from falling over. It was the first time I’d ever had a climax when I was awake—on purpose.
My face reddened with shame. I could feel more of my juices mixing with the soap and water on my thighs. Slowly, eventually, my body and my mind calmed down enough for me to finish my shower.
Once I got out, I was amazed how good I felt. It had worked. The Lord might punish me by not letting me forget my impure thoughts and what I’d done in the shower, but I felt refreshed and ready to tackle the garage when I went downstairs.
Zayn had already finished breakfast and was walking out to the garage as I poured a bowl of cereal. I saw him out the kitchen window. Was he avoiding me? I knew it was going to be an awkward conversation, but I also knew we’d get through it.
I finished my cereal and went out to the garage. Mom and Dad had already left for the hour-long trip to Grand Rapids. Zayn was digging through the first of many storage bins we had stacked in the garage. Dad had finally declared that having a garage full of so much stuff that we couldn’t park a car in it was ridiculous. He was right, but now it was up to us to clear enough space so they could park the car there when they got back later.
“Hey,” I said as I moved to another storage bin on the other side of the garage.
“Hey,” he said, not looking at me.
“Where are we supposed to put all this stuff?”
“Dad said we should throw away anything broken or worn out. He wants all the old clothes to go to Goodwill. I started a bag for that. All the books go to the drop box on Market Street.”
I nodded. “Find anything interesting yet?”
“Some of my old baseball trophies.” He held up the one he’d earned in seventh grade. “I’m not sure if I want to keep these or not.”
“Why did you kiss me?” I bit my lip, but the words were out before I even had a chance to hold them back.
He froze, his hands still in the bin and stood there for a couple moments before he finally turned to face me.
“Look, I’m sorry about that,” he said. His cheeks were red. “It was a stupid thing to do. Please don’t tell Mom and Dad about it.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Believe me, that’s the last thing I’m gonna do.”
“Good.” He smiled. Oh, I loved his smile so much. “Let’s just forget it and get back to all this.”
“But you didn’t answer my question, Zayn.” I pressed it. Something was pushing me forward, from the inside. I knew I should leave it alone, like he wanted me to. Like we’d left it alone between us, sleeping dormant, for years. But I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. “I want to know why you kissed me.”
“I got carried away.” He shrugged, tossing the trophy back in the bin. It clanged against all the other ones. “I just… I thought…”
His voice trailed off and he stood here, quiet again.
I stepped forward. I knew he was on the verge of revealing something to me.
“Thought what?”
“That it was the right moment to do it.” He stood tall, turning to look at me. There was something in his eyes. It was the way he’d looked at me last night. I saw his gaze drop to my body—I was wearing pink shorts and a white t-shirt. I hadn’t bothered with a bra, because I knew I’d be getting all sweaty and dirty. Just him looking at me had made my nipples hard and I noticed him noticing. Was he thinking about the way he’d touched them last night? I sure was.
I was thinking about more than that. I was remembering everything we’d done in my dream, almost as if we’d actually done it, reality and fantasy blurring in my mind.
“Do you know why I signed my abstinence contract, Linnie?” He took a step toward me, so we were inches apart now, but not touching.
Of course, I knew why he signed it. The same reason I had. It was the right thing to do.
But I shook my head, as if I didn’t know. Because… maybe I didn’t, after all.
“I did it because I knew it would be easy to keep,” he confessed. He reached out and put his hands at my waist, squeezing gently, but not pulling me closer. “Linnie… you have to know… you’re the only girl I’ve ever wanted…”
His words made my knees feel like they were made of glass and they were about to shatter under my meager weight.
“And…” He sighed, looking so sad, my heart felt like it was cracking in half. “I knew I couldn’t have you.”
But he wanted me. The only girl I’ve ever wanted. Had he really said that?
“I’m…” I swallowed. “I’m the only girl you’ve ever wanted?”
“Linnie…” His look was bemused. “I’ve been in love with you since the day we met.”
“But…” I was choking on my own words. “You dated Jess!”
“Yeah. I know. But… I don’t love her. And I know she doesn’t really love me.” He shrugged. “I like her, sure. But… it’s not the same. It’s not the way I feel about you.”
“Oh Zayn…” My hands went to his shoulders. I could feel his muscles, all bunched up and tight. “This is awful.”
“I know.” He closed his eyes, pressing his forehead to mine. “And I’m sorry, Linnie. I’m so sorry I kissed you like that. I promise, it won’t happen again.”
“But… I want it to happen again,” I whispered.
His eyes flew open and he jerked back to look at me. “Wh—what?”
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” I told him. If it was confession time, I might as well go all the way. “Jess asked me the other day to describe my dream man… you know, if I could have any guy in the whole world? And I… I described you, Zayn. Jess knew it right away. She accused me of being in love with you.”
“She did?”
“She was teasing but…” I swallowed. “It’s not a joke. It’s real.”
“Is it?” He looked down at me like he didn’t quite believe I was there. “Is any of this really happening?”
I did the only thing I could think of to make it real.
I kissed him.
And it was just as magical as it had been the first time. Just as perfect as it had been last night. We fit together like two long-lost puzzle pieces. Zayn’s big, strong arms went around me, folding me against his hard, broad chest. I melted, turning to liquid, feeling that hot, wet pulse starting between my thighs, as if Zayn’s tongue was stroking there instead of raking the roof of my mouth.
“I dreamed about you,” I whispered when we parted, seeing the dazed look in his eyes. “Last night, I had this dream… it was so amazing…”
“What did you dream, Linnie?”
“I dreamed you were touching me.” I gulped. Was I really going to tell him? But I had to. He had to know. Part of me wanted this—a deeper part of me had wanted it all along. “All over. Oh Zayn, your hands. And your mouth.”
I touched his lips, tracing them with my index finger.
“You kissed me everywhere. And then… then… you were inside me…”
“Oh God.” He let out a low moan, his arms tightening around me.
“I touched myself in the shower,” I confessed. “This morning. Thinking about you. Remembering my dream. I know it was wrong but, oh, it felt so good. It was the first time I ever did that.”
Then Zayn confessed, too. “I’ve been jerking off, thinking about you, for years.”
“You have?” I looked up at him in wonder. That hot, steady pulse between my legs was strong now, a pounding beat.
“I couldn’t help it,” he croaked, his hands moving up under my shirt in back, touching bare skin. “I wanted you so much. And you were there, just out of my reach, all the time… it drove me crazy…”
“Me, too.” My heart beat so fast, I felt blood rushing to my head, making me dizzy. “Oh Zayn, I want you too.”
“What are we going to do?” he wondered aloud.
“Mom and Dad won’t be home for hours.” I took his hand in mine, pulling gently. It didn’t take much pressure to get him to follow me.
We didn’t make it to a bedroom. Instead, we ended up on the living room couch, Zayn kissing me down onto it, his body long and lean on mine. I yanked his shirt off—I wanted to see him, admire his hard body in a way I never could when I’d glimpsed him walking down the hall in just a towel. I ran my hands over his chest and shoulders, my fingers tracing the hard ridges of his abdomen.
Zayn pressed kisses down my throat, over my collarbone, his face brushing against my breasts through my t-shirt. I pulled that off, too, seeing his eyes light up when I laid back down, my nipples hard, pink nubs. I wasn’t big-chested by any stretch of the imagination and I was about to apologize—Jess was much bigger than me—but Zayn moaned and pressed his face against my bare breasts, cupping them in both hands.
“You’re so perfect,” he murmured between kisses. He made me moan out loud when he licked my nipples, then sucked them between his lips. “I’ve been thinking about doing this for so long…”
“Me, too.” I ran my hands through his dark hair, writhing underneath his weight.
Then Zayn was rolling over, pulling me on top of him, wrapping his arms around my waist and burying his face against my breasts. That feeling between my legs was so insistent, it was almost painful. It didn’t help that I could feel him rubbing up against me, like I was straddling a hard rod. His hands moved down my body, sliding under my shorts and underwear, cupping my bottom, kneading my flesh.
“Oh Zayn,” I whispered as he rocked me on top of him. He was still wearing his jeans, but he was so hard, I couldn’t help but feel him. “That feels so good…”
“Tell me about your dream.” Zayn moved my hips, looking up into my eyes. “Where were we? What were we doing?”
“We were on this couch.” I smiled. “But… I was sitting up…”
His eyes lit up and he pushed me back, sitting me up on the couch beside him.
“And you… were on the floor… between my legs…” As I said the words, he situated himself exactly like that.
I lifted my hips for him as he slid my shorts and panties down. My whole body was trembling in excitement and anticipation. And a little fear. I was afraid he wouldn’t like me—that I wouldn’t live up to his expectations. But when his gaze moved down my breasts and belly, settling between my thighs, I wasn’t afraid anymore. I could tell—he liked what he saw.
“What was I doing?” he asked softly. “In your dream?”
His hands moved up my waist to my breasts, tweaking my nipples. That made me moan and move my hips up.
“I.... I can’t…”
“Tell me,” he insisted. His thumbs rubbed my nipples, back and forth, making me undulate on the couch. “Tell me, Linnie.”
“Your mouth…” I reached down to touch his lips, feeling breathless at the thought. “You were kissing me…”
“Where?” He licked his lips, his eyes dark with lust. His hands moved down to my waist, then my hips, pulling me closer. “Show me, Linnie.”
My face felt like it was on fire. His hands raked down my thighs, pushing them wide, I gasped and shook my head, but I didn’t stop him.
“Here,” I said, showing him by sliding a hand down between my legs and parting my swollen lips. “You were kissing me… here…”
“Kissing.” He smiled, leaning in and pressing his lips right there, where my finger was pointing—right at my clit. He feathered little kisses, again and again, making me jump. “Just… kissing?”
“No,” I whispered. “Licking, too. Please, Zayn. I’m burning up in there. I want you to do it.”
“You want me to taste you?” His hands rubbed up and down my thighs, keeping my knees apart. His fingers kept brushing against my sex, tugging gently at my pubic hair.
“Yes.” I nodded, eager, remembering how good it felt just to touch myself. What would his tongue feel like? “Oh please, yes, taste me…”
“You smell so good.” He breathed me in, nosing my fingers aside, and then his tongue was parting my lips, sliding up and down in all that wetness.
It was like nothing I’d imagined. It went far beyond anything I could have even believed. The flesh was so hot and tender there, and every time his tongue touched my clit, I cried out, gripping his hair in my hands. He took a long time exploring with his mouth, kissing, licking, sucking on every part of me. My nipples hardened to sharp points and I couldn’t help pinching them, sending hot sparks down between my legs.
“You taste so fucking good.” Zayn’s face was glistening as he lifted it to look at me. I’d never heard him swear before and for some reason, it made what we were doing even more exciting.
“Would you… put a finger in me?” I asked, remembering how it had felt when I did that in the shower.
“You want me to?”
His eyes were bright as he worked one finger slowly into me. I bit my lip when he slipped another one in. There was no pain—just a warm sensation that spread outward from my core, through my limbs, all the way to my toes and fingertips. What would it feel like, when Zayn slid inside there? I wondered, meeting his eyes as he fingered me. I couldn’t help rocking my hips and I let out a little cry when his thumb found its way to my clit.
“Oh Zayn!” I moved faster, helping him, wanting more. “Don’t stop!”
He did it harder without me even asking, sending me over the edge. I cried out just like I had in the shower, but this time I didn’t have to be quiet. This time it was loud and free and oh, so wonderful. My body took over, quivering everywhere as my climax rippled through me, filling me with so much pleasure I almost couldn’t stand it.
No wonder masturbation is a sin, I thought, still panting as I looked down at my stepbrother. If just touching feels this good—what must sex be like?
“Wow, Linnie.” Zayn made a noise of surprise when he felt my juices on his hand. “You’re so beautiful. So fucking beautiful.”
“Say it again.” I rubbed my fingers over his lips.
“That you’re beautiful?”
“No…” I shook my head and took a deep breath. “Fuck… say fuck.”
He grinned. “You want me to tell you how much I want to fuck you?”
I let out a little moan, nodding.
“Yes, yes, yes,” I said. It was all I could seem to say.
“I do want to fuck you,” he told me, his voice low and hoarse, his fingers still playing in my wetness. “But I want to taste you again first.”
“Ohhhhh!” My hips jerked up to meet him as he moved his tongue up and down my slit.
It felt so good at first, I tried to get away, but his hands gripped my thighs, keeping me in place as he licked me. He went slow, just light, gentle laps of his tongue at first, but the more I began to respond, moaning and rolling my hips, the more he got into it. His tongue slid down to replace his fingers, licking up all that honey before moving back up to stroke my clit.
Then his fingers were inside me, moving in and out, while his tongue lashed back and forth over my throbbing little clit. It was more pleasure than one person could possibly bear. I was sure I would explode. How many times could my body shake and shudder like that? Surely there was a limit, and I’d reached it.
But I was wrong. His mouth tightened on me, fastening over my mound, and his fingers twisted, moving faster, pounding harder. Waves of heat moved through me, making my chest and cheeks flush with heat. I gripped his head in my hands, trying to push him away, but it was impossible. I thought I was going to faint, or die, or both, but instead I had another orgasm.
“Zayn!” I screamed his name as I came, hearing him moan through the slippery noises his face made as he rubbed it against me. I coated him with my juices, so wet it felt like a flood between my legs. Zayn was going to have to consult Noah on how to build an ark if he was going to stay down there much longer, I thought, still trembling all over with that incredible feeling.
And still, I wanted more of him. I wanted him inside me.
He knelt between my legs, kissing his way up my quivering belly, licking my navel.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly, looking into my eyes.
“Yes,” I breathed, reaching down to feel him through his jeans. I wanted that. I wanted him. “Take your pants off.”
He smiled, reaching down to unzip and slide his jeans down his hips. His boxers went with them and I couldn’t help my gasp when he sprang free. It was much bigger than I’d imagined. Much, much bigger. How could I possibly fit that monstrous thing inside me? I wondered.
Zayn took my hand and put it on him.
It was hot and throbbing as he showed me how to wrap my fist around it.
“Oh yes, Linnie.” He hissed air between his teeth and his head went back as I followed his motion, up and down. “Just like that. It feels so good.”
“Do you…” I swallowed. “Do you want to fuck me?”
His eyes flew open in surprise. “Fuck... yes.”
“Can I…” I bit my lip. “Can I taste you, too? First? Before…?”
He nodded, moving so he was next to me on the couch, pushing his jeans all the way off onto the floor. I traded places with him, sliding down to kneel between his thighs. From this vantage point, he was even bigger. I took him in my hand, feeling a little shy now, but I wanted to give him as much pleasure as he had given me.
“Oh Linnie, your mouth…” He moaned when I dared to lick the head, taking my first taste. It wasn’t bad at all. In fact, I kind of liked it. “Please, will you…”
I smiled. The tables had turned. “Tell me.”
“Ahhh, please, suck my cock.” His hand moved in my hair, guiding me, and I let him, opening my mouth to take him in.
I had no idea what I was doing. I’d only taken the head in and a little more before I gagged, coming back up on him, a trail of saliva bridged between my lips and the tip.
“It’s okay.” He smiled, stroking my hair. “You don’t have to.”
“I want to,” I insisted, rubbing him against my lips. “I want to suck your cock, Zayn.”
He moaned at my words and then moaned even louder when I put him in my mouth again. This time I actually sucked, like I was trying to pull liquid up from a straw. He pressed his hips up when I did, forcing more of himself into my mouth. I tried hard not to gag on his length and managed, just barely. Soon, I caught his rhythm, and I wasn’t really doing any of the work. Zayn was sliding himself in and out of my mouth, watching his cock disappear between my lips through half-closed eyes.
Then, suddenly, he let out a little yell and grabbed my hair in his fist, pulling me off. I still had a lot of suction going and there was a fat popping sound when the head broke free.
“Wait,” he gasped, shaking his head. “I don’t want to come yet.”
“Because…” I tilted my head, licking my lips. “You want to fuck me?”
“Yes.” He grabbed me and pulled me up onto the couch beside him.
I gasped when he rolled me onto my back, parting my legs with his knees. He was leaning over me, gazing into my eyes, a searching look on his face.
“Are you sure?” He kissed me before I could answer and I nodded, wrapping my arms around his neck, kissing him back.
“Yes,” I breathed as we parted. “I want you inside me, Zayn. I want you. Only you. Forever.”
“I love you, Linnie.” He closed his eyes as he reached down to guide himself. He began to push in, slow and careful. His eyes were open now, watching me, but there was no pain.
“Keep going,” I whispered, encouraging him with the press of my hips, until he was all the way in. I looked up at him in wonder, feeling fuller than I ever had in my life. I didn’t want to ever let him go.
“You feel so good,” he breathed. I felt him throbbing inside me. “Oh my God, I didn’t know it would be like this…”
“I know.” I put my arms around his neck and kissed him softly. It was like completing a circuit, something electric, alive. It sparked between us, starting a fire blazing.
Zayn began to move and I cried out when he slowly withdrew, not wanting to lose him, but then he pushed back into me with one big shove. We both cried out together and I watched the strong muscles in his arms flex as he started shifting in and out of me.
His first few strokes slipped out, and we laughed, but soon we figured out how to move together. It didn’t hurt at all. I was so wet that he had no trouble filling me, and he felt amazing inside me. I wrapped my legs around him, feeling him slip in even deeper, making both of us moan.
“That’s so good,” I purred into his ear. “Your cock feels so good inside my pussy.”
I’d never said those words out loud in my life, but just uttering them made what we were doing that much more exciting. That’s when his movements got harder, faster, and he started to really pound his hips against mine.
“Ahhh, you’re so beautiful, Linnie,” he groaned. “You feel so fucking good.”
“Don’t stop,” I panted, digging my heels in. I wanted more of him, all of him. “Harder! Fuck me harder!”
“Oh God,” he cried. Neither of us ever took the Lord’s name in vain—it had been drilled into us—but he couldn’t seem to help himself. “Oh God! Linnie! I’m so close…”
“Don’t stop!” I cried again, squeezing him with my thighs, my pussy, every part of me. “I want you in me, Zayn. I want to feel you. All of you. Don’t you stop!”
“But…” He gulped, leaning back to look at me. “What if…”
“I don’t care,” I panted. I knew what he was worried about. What if I got pregnant? But I didn’t care. I really didn’t. This was Zayn, and he was mine. And I was his. I was never going to let him go. Whatever happened, would happen. Somehow, I just knew this was all part of God’s plan for both of us.
“Come for me,” I urged, cupping his face in my hands and bringing his mouth down to mine. I whispered my words against his lips. “I want you to come inside of me.”
He moaned and began to move again, even harder and faster than before, driving into me with such force, he moved the couch with every motion. I clung to him, that feeling growing between my legs. It was like a freight train barreling down at full speed. There was no way to stop it—and I didn’t want to.
My climax surprised us both.
I cried out, digging my nails into his back, arching beneath him. I’d never had an orgasm with anything so big inside me before and the sensation was like nothing I’d ever experienced before. I bucked like a bronco underneath him, my pussy spasming so hard, I thought I’d snap his cock in half. For a minute, he scared me, when he let out a tremendous yell, shoving himself deep inside me and grinding.
“Oh Linnie! I’m coming! I’m coming for you!” He leaned his head against my shoulder, shuddering all over as he began to fill me with his seed. I felt each thundering throb of his cock inside of me, and it was like our bodies were completely in sync. My pussy would spasm around his cock, milking another wave of his cum, again and again. I couldn’t believe how long it lasted, both of us shaking and gasping for breath afterward, our bodies slick with sweat.
We snuggled together. I stroked his hair, closing my eyes, wondering why I didn’t feel guiltier about what we’d done. Shouldn’t I be on my knees, asking God for forgiveness? But for some reason, I didn’t feel like I needed to. My heart felt light, not heavy.
Zayn was quiet for so long, I thought he might be asleep.
Then he sighed and asked. “What now?”
“We finish the garage.” I giggled when he lifted his head and rolled his eyes. “They’re not going to be happy if they come home and find it like that.”
“They’re not going to be happy if they come home and find us like this.” He frowned down at me. “Seriously, Linnie… what are we going to do?”
“Keep doing this.” I stroked his cheek. “I love you, Zayn. Now that I have you… I’m never letting you go.”
“How?” He shook his head. “Mom and Dad—”
I interrupted him. “Will have to accept it.”
His eyes went wide. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“Eventually,” I added. “Either that, or they lose their daughter. And their son.”
“Do you really feel that strongly?” he asked, looking incredulous.
“Don’t you?”
He nodded, slowly. “I prayed this day would come. I just never thought this particular dream would ever come true.”
“God works in mysterious ways, doesn’t he?” I put my arms around him and pulled his head down to my breast. “Now I just have to figure out how to tell Jess…”
He groaned. “Jess… oh no…”
“Don’t worry.” I kissed the top of his head. “She’ll be okay with it.”
He gave me a doubtful look.
“Eventually,” I added again with a sigh. “But I think we need to keep this a secret from our parents. At least until we graduate.”
“Agreed.” He nuzzled his cheek against my breast. “But we can get an apartment together off campus next year.”
“Roommates,” I mused, nodding. “Good idea.”
“And then… eventually…” He took a deep breath. “We’ll tell everyone we’re in love.”
“And we’re going to get married.”
“And have babies,” he said, kissing my nipple, making me jump.
“Babies?” I smiled. My imagination hadn’t gone that far. Not yet.
“I just know that’s what God wants,” he said, sliding a hand down under my navel, rubbing my belly. “There could be one in there right now.”
The thought was both scary and thrilling. It certainly would push up the timeline!
“I want to have your baby,” I told him softly, smiling dreamily at him when he lifted his head to look into my eyes. “I want your everything.”
“You’ve got it, Lin.” He kissed me, and I felt him starting to get hard again against my thigh, much to my delight. “You’ve got all of me.”
“Prove it.” I reached down to grasp him in my hand, smiling when he gasped.
“So much for that abstinence contract.” He snorted as he shifted between my legs.
“Oh, but we are abstaining,” I assured him, biting my lip as he sought entry again. “From doing this with anyone else.”
He grinned, turning me over on my belly before sliding into me again.
“Now that’s an abstinence contract I can get behind.”
The End
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