Oh my God. Let me say it again for emphasis. Oh. My. God. I can’t breathe or think. His tongue, his hands, those fingers...oh those naughty ten digits. But that dick. It’s something out of this world. Like NASA space men brought it back from the planet Well-Endowed and bestowed it unto him. Like the God’s all sat around while creating him, and thought, ‘let’s go big on this one.’

Because that’s what it is. But, even more than the length is the way he uses it. And believe me, he knows how to use that massive weapon of destruction. But honestly, the only thing it destroyed is my heart.

Because if I thought I loved him before, then that was all child’s play. This feeling swarming through my chest, radiating to every limb of my body, and pulsing through every nerve fiber, is so much bigger than love. What’s bigger than love? Xavier’s dick. Ha. I kid, but it is.

But, back to my point in all this. I'm feeling a little panicky, because no one can ever compete with this. And I don’t want them to even try.

I flee to the safety of the bathroom to collect myself. I need to remember why I’m here. I need to remember that this man has a plan, and I am only a pawn in the grand scheme of it.

But he made me feel things. Made the impossible come alive in me. The squashed, repressed hopes I held onto were all there. In color nonetheless.

And that makes me pause. I’ve always dreamed in black and white. Knowing full well I can never have the things I wish so hard for. But when the streaks of cherry-red and sky-blue and every other color of the rainbow burst through my vision like an oil painting he did just for me, well, I nearly cried. It was too much.

I take a deep breath, staring at myself in the mirror. Keep it together, girl. Don’t let amazing sex ruin you.

When I enter back into the bedroom, Xavier is lying on his back, arms stretched behind his head, etched abs I want to lick, and a barely there sheet covering his most prized possession from me.

And it turns me on instantly. Greed tears through me, wanting more of all he has to offer.

“Ready for more?” He laughs, and I bound onto the bed.

“Yes, you promised me many more orgasms,” I say, my pep talk I just had in the bathroom flying completely out of the window. ‘Goodbye,’ I say to it as I wrap my hand around his cock and meet his soul-searing eyes.

“Good, because I’m nowhere near done claiming that pussy yet.”

And his words must be true, because his dick is already coming to life in my hand.

And for the rest of the night he does just that. He claims me in every way imaginable. He doesn’t stop claiming until the soft shine of the morning sun filters in through the blinds. When he finally kisses me goodnight, and snuggles his body in next to mine, right before I fall asleep, I hear him whisper, “I wish this was right,” into my hair.

* * *

My muscles ache before I even open my eyes against the sun streaming in through the window. Xavier sleeps soundly beside me, and I've got two choices here: I can stay in this sex cocoon a little longer and go back to marry Ian, which is not my choice, or I can do a little snooping, see if I can find some clue as to what my father has that Xavier needs so bad he would go to these lengths.

I lift his arm and carefully slip out from under the navy comforter, snatch his white dress shirt from the floor, and tip toe out.

The house is eerily quiet without the usual team of people moving in and out, and I have no idea when they’ll return, so I race to his office, step inside, and lock the door.

I sag against the door frame. Now what? The glossy black desk is virtually empty on top, except his large monitor and a neat stack of file folders next to it. I'll start there. My heart beats so fierce as I move behind his desk, I'm afraid it's going to wake him. As if it’s going to burn me or set off an alarm, I quickly tap a key on the keyboard and jerk my hand back. The monitor comes to life. Should've known it would need a password. Folders next. I thumb through the first, all jibberish. Second, the same. My hands shake as I grab the last folder, and I cut my eyes to the door expecting him to walk through it at any moment. I thumb through the papers and freeze.

One.

Two.

Three.

I rub my eyes to clear them. This can't be true.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

I. can't. breathe.

The thin document weighs a million pounds as I lift it from the folder and stare at the signature. Alfred DeLaurio.

Son...

Xavier DeLaurio.

Whaaaat?

I just fucked my brother.

My legs give out, and I sink into the chair and drop my head between my knees. Oh god. Oh god. Why would he not tell me? I am in love with my brother. My brother. No; it can't be.

The things I thought. Fantasized about all these years.

This is beyond warped.

How do I turn it off?

I'm sick. Sick. Sick.

I enjoyed it.

I begged for it.

And he let me.

Oh good lord.

My deep breaths do nothing to stop the hyperventilating that's happening.

All the sex. He knew.

What if I keep loving him?

“What the hell are you doing in here?” his deep voice booms.

I don't move. I can't breathe.

I'm in love with my brother.

His bare feet appear in my vision. A tear drops onto his toe. Why am I always looking at his feet when cataclysmic things happen? Maybe it's because I'm a servant, serving everyone’s sick purposes.

“What's wrong? Look at me,” he says.

I'm scared to look at him. What if I still see him with love goggles? What if I'm still attracted to him? Does love stop just like that? This is so fucked up.

He squats, and oh god, touches me. Visions of us tangled together torment me. He knew.

Finally, I lean up and meet his eyes. They're not angry—they’re worried.

They should be.

I punch him in the jaw. He barely flinches, grabbing my wrist.

“How could you?” It's pathetic my voice doesn't sound angry; it sounds sad and confused—weak. A kitten’s mewl instead of a lion’s roar.

“How could I what?”

Unable to look at his face that bears no guilt for these sins that are sending us straight to hell, I look over his shoulder.

“Fuck me,” I rasp out.

My brain isn't moving him into sibling mode. Oh god, he didn't move me either.

“I’m sorry. It won't happen again.” His hand lands on my thigh. “I thought you wanted me too.”

“Jesus Christ. You can't want me,” I scream. “We’re freaks.”

“Rhiannon,” he starts.

“Stop, please.” I don't want to hear his voice. It still affects me, and it's wrong. “You’re my brother, and you didn't tell me?” I nearly choke on the words. On the shame. My heart isn't hearing anything I'm saying.

He blinks. “For fucks sake, you think I'd have sex with you if I still thought that?”

“Still?”

“Yes,” he stands, running a hand through his hair. “It was a lie your father told me.”

Pummeled. I'm always pummeled with this craziness from every direction.

“When?”

“After I kissed you all those years ago.” He takes a breath. “After my mom died.”

I close my eyes and rub my temples to make my brain function. I can’t believe any of this. Keep calm, I tell myself.

“Obviously he's not my father. But the sick fuck wanted me to think it.”

“And you're giving me back to this sick fuck?” I drop my hands. “I'm just a temporary means to an end, right?” So much for keeping calm.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Yes.”

This must be what it feels like to lose your mind. It's like I'm in front of a funhouse mirror, warping and distorting reality. I want out of here, away from all of the things I can't control. And I can't control myself around him. “Did you know that most of the drawings on my greeting cards have our initials hidden inside?”

This catches his attention, and he meets my stare. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I do this swirly type drawing, and I always add an R for me, and an X for you. Like our very own prescription. Rx.”

He runs a hand down his jaw. “That’s pretty fucking cool,” he murmurs.

“No it's not.” I shake my head. “It's a prescription for toxicity.”

He steps towards me, but I hold a hand out. “I should've given up hope after Ian told me you and him ran into each other.”

His ‘what the hell are you talking about?’ look doesn't stop my tirade.

“It’s ok. I know you were busy and had a life. I just kind of thought…” I let the bitter words trail off.

“Rhi,” he clutches the back of his neck with his hand and rubs, “what did you think?”

“We were friends, best friends, and you vanished. Ok, I get you thought I was your sister…” This is definitely what it feels like to lose your mind, because I'm losing mine right here and now. Five minutes ago, I thought he was my brother and to my horror the feelings didn't shut down, so I'll give him that. But this is all too much. “I just thought you would have kept the charm,” I finish.

“Charm?”

I touch the dove on my neck, yank it off and throw it at him. “Your other half.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Ian told me he ran into you at an airport.”

His eyes narrow on me.

“He said you handed him your charm and told him to give it to me.”

“Rhi, I never saw that motherfucker.” He pulls open his desk drawer and slams his hand down on the desk. “And I never gave him this charm.”

“You kept it?” There's a tunnel effect happening to me. A distorted long tunnel, shifting and changing, and there's a light at the end, but I’ll never reach it.

“Of course I did,” he barks out.

The tears in my eyes spill over. “Are you going to tell me what all this is about?”

“No,” he says.

“How are you so sure this is all lies?” I hope he’s positive. But, why would my dad lie about something like this? He always hated Xavier.

“Because I found my real father, and of course ran some tests.” He runs a hand through his hair. “But, didn’t really need to. I’m a spitting image of him.”

I brush a loose strand of hair from my face. “I want to go back. Now.” Yes, I've gone crazy, because I'd rather take my chances with Ian and my father on my own terms.

“Rhiannon, come on. You want to go back to the monster?”

I don’t say anything.

“Your wedding is in a few days.”

“I know.”

He bites the corner of his bottom lip and then stalks over to me. Clasping my face in his hands, he crashes his lips to mine, taking the last piece of my sanity. I'm dizzy from his kiss as his tongue traces mine. And then he releases me.

“Krista will be here shortly. She'll pack your things, and Dean will take you back.”

When he's gone, I retrieve my necklace, drop to my knees and cry.