Snapshot, p.26
Snapshot, page 26
I fall onto the couch and let out a deep breath. Cleaning is exhausting, and I didn’t even have to do a lot. I bet if I complain about my feet hurting, Reese would rub them. He’s been at my beck and call since we got back from the games. It’s nice, but he’s also exhausting me by checking in every three minutes.
Closing my eyes, I drop my head to the back of the couch. It doesn’t last long, though, because the door handle jingles. Shooting up from the couch, I stare at the handle for another second, making sure I didn’t imagine it, but then it twists, and I take off for the bathroom.
I barge in and slam the door behind me, breathing hard as I flick the lock.
When I open my eyes, Reese is grinning at me, a cocky eyebrow arched in question.
“Work yourself up thinking about me in here alone?”
“Shh!” I rush forward to throw my hand over his stupid mouth. He grips my wrist and tugs me into the shower with him. I gasp but bite it back to not alert anyone, and he grins beneath my hand.
“Elijah came home, so you need to shut up.”
“Win?” Elijah calls from the hallway. “How many times have I told you to put the peanut butter away when you’re done. We’re going to have ants.”
I roll my eyes.
“He’s right, you know?”
“Shut up,” I hiss before yelling out to Elijah. “Okay, sorry!”
“Whose flowers are those?”
Reese smirks.
“Uh, Mom’s. I had them delivered for her.”
“Kissing ass already, eh?”
I roll my eyes and wait for him to walk away, but instead, he drums his fingers against the door and tests the handle. “Open up. I have to piss.”
Is he fucking kidding me right now? Reese is grinning as he rinses the soap from his head, not at all fazed that my brother, who hates him, is home, and he’s somehow going to have to sneak out without getting caught.
If I make Elijah wait, he’s going to be standing there when I’m “done” and will for sure see Reese. If I let him come in to pee and can keep Reese quiet—task impossible—then maybe he will go to his room after and I can quickly shove Reese out.
“Uh, yeah, okay. Just unlock it and come in.”
Reese’s eyebrows fall, and he leans forward. I lower my hand from his mouth, trusting him to whisper.
“You realize I’m taller than your curtain, right?” He flicks his eyes to the rod, and I follow. Fuck, he’s right. “He’s going to see the top of my head.”
The door clicks, and I know he’s unlocked it.
“Coming in.”
I shove on Reese’s shoulders, but he doesn’t move. “Get down,” I hiss.
He rolls his eyes but lowers himself onto his knees, and I realize the mistake I’ve made as soon as he looks forward and his eyes blaze. I cross my legs and do my best to scowl, but it’s a lost cause. I can’t say no to Reese any more than I can say no to mint chocolate chip ice cream. Which I’ve convinced Reese is my craving, and he has a tub delivered every few days. I don’t think cravings happen this early, but the less he knows.
“Mom called. She should be here soon.”
Oh, great. Even more people to hide Reese from. I think Mom is actually going to be rather excited about us, but it’s only going to make it harder to tell Elijah. I’m hoping Mom can help dampen the blow by telling him with me. I know he will feel betrayed if everyone else knows besides him, and right now, pretty much everyone does. Reese is lucky Elijah doesn’t run in the same circle as him because he can’t keep his big mouth shut.
Reese leans forward, nudging his nose against my center. I gasp but am quick to cover my mouth. He grins and looks up with fake innocence, then hooks his fingers into my leggings, and for whatever reason, I don’t stop him from pulling them down my legs.
The toilet flushes as Reese lifts one of my legs, draping it over his shoulder, but he hesitates, I assume waiting for the door.
“Winnie,” Elijah growls. “I told you to stop fucking wearing my clothes. If you can’t fit in your own, that’s not my problem. Lay off the ice cream.”
Then the door slams.
Reese blows a sharp breath against my pussy, and I shiver. “He took my clothes, didn’t he?”
I peek outside and slap a hand to my face. “He did.”
“Fuck.”
Fuck is right—my hand comes down hard on top of Reese’s head, but he doesn’t seem to notice. His eyes are closed, and he laps at my pussy like a starving man, not wasting another second.
“Reese,” I whisper-moan. My hips start to buck, but he pulls off to lick two fingers and then shoves them inside me. For Reese not having experience outside of me, he’s so damn talented with his fingers. And tongue. And dick. He’s just overall sexually talented.
He brings me to the hilt, sucking, some biting, and fucking me with his fingers. All I can do is hold on to him and the wall and pray I don’t fall, which Reese would never let happen, anyway.
He groans, and I swear he pushes even deeper. “Fuck, Winnie.”
Slapping a hand to my mouth, I mask any noise that might come out as my climax takes me to ecstasy. Wave after wave of pure bliss crashes over my body, leaving me weak and boneless.
I fall against the wall and sigh, and Reese chuckles, climbing up my body before pressing a deep kiss to my lips. I’m too tired to kiss him back, but he doesn’t seem to mind and kisses me enough for the both of us.
“How I missed hearing you come.”
“You heard me come yesterday after practice, Reese.”
“Still.”
Right, still.
“I’ll check the coast, but you need to sprint to my room.”
“Aye, aye.” Reese makes a little salute, and I swat him. “It’s not time for jokes, Reese Abraham Larson.”
He narrows his eyes at the mention of the middle name he hates.
“Whatever you say, Winnie Rue Lewis.”
Asshole.
I crack the door open and stick my ear out. The TV blasts from the living room. I wait for another moment, then quietly close the door.
“He’s playing a game, so we should be good. Just head right to my room.”
“Oh, what game?” He grips the handle but I shove him off before he can open it.
“Stop it. It’s not like he’s going to invite you to play.”
He rolls his eyes and brushes by me and walks right out the door without even looking. I could thump him for that, but there’s no yelling, no one screaming from a broken bone, so I guess it’s fine.
I look out, just in case he’s walking by, and when I don’t see anything, I slip from the bathroom, towel tight under my arms and my wet clothes tucked under.
Leaning against my closed door, I breathe out a long, relieved sigh. Reese is on me instantly, inhaling my air and eating at my lips a second later. He drags his hand up my thigh, over the towel, and pauses when he hits the bump from my clothes. He steps back and gazes at me, tilting his head. He scans all over my body with an expression I can’t get a read on.
“Fuck, I can’t wait for you to get bigger.”
My eyebrows shoot up my forehead. I look down at what he’s seeing, noticing the clothes look an awfully lot like a pregnant belly.
“Yeah?” I ask, sort of embarrassed.
He steps closer, drags his nose up my jaw, and nods. “Mm-hmm. Maybe after this one, I’ll pump you full of my cum until another one pops out.”
I shouldn’t like what he’s saying as much as I do. “How many kids do you want?”
“I don’t know. A lot.”
A lot. What the hell could that mean? A lot to me is, like, four. That would be a lot, but I think I could do four. Especially since I’m starting a lot earlier than I thought I would be.
“Like, uh, four?” I ask, hopeful he doesn’t say something crazy like eight or more.
Reese snorts and kisses my jaw before pulling back to grin at me. “I’m just playing, Win. Not about you being pregnant. I would love to see you swollen with my babies all the time, but I know it’s not easy on your body. I want as many kids as you will and can give me.”
I smile, and he brushes his fingers over my cheek. “But it doesn’t mean I’m not going to be pumping you full of my cum any chance I can.”
“I would expect nothing less.”
Reese is lucky I like my lounge clothes oversized and I still have a pair of his briefs he sent me home with that first night. My biggest pair of sweatpants are still way too short, but at least they fit around his hips. I still have his sweatshirt, which I don’t like lending, but he promises I’ll get it back.
He falls to my bed, and I groan. “Reese, you have to go home.”
He grabs my pillow and curls into it. I think he’s trying to give me puppy-dog eyes, but it’s not working in his favor. At all. “Let me stay. I’ll be very quiet and no one will know I’m here. Just bring me a plate of dinner when you come to bed.”
As tempting as that is—and it is because I much prefer sleeping with Reese than sleeping without him—I know my mom is going to want to see my room, and if she finds Reese lying on my bed, she’s going to flip, which will in turn alert Elijah, and tomorrow is Thanksgiving. I don’t want to spend it in jail or the hospital.
I open my mouth but am cut off when Elijah calls for me, followed by, “Mom’s here!”
Fuck.
Reese smiles like he just won the lottery.
“You need to be quiet. Okay?”
He makes a motion of zipping his lips and falls back, tucking both arms under his head as he closes his eyes.
“Winnie!” My mom’s sweet voice singsongs, and my stomach pinches.
Here goes nothing. Let’s see if my poker face has gotten any better.
38
Reese
Flashback
“I’m not playing house. This is stupid.”
Winnie scowls at me and her brother. “I do everything you guys want. I just want to play with my new baby dolls, and I have no other friends to play with.”
She puffs her bottom lip out, and Elijah and I take turns groaning because we know we are going to give in to her pouts like we always do.
“Okay, how do we play?”
Winnie bounces around, grabbing various items from her messy room. She thrusts a baby at me and a toy car at her brother. My eyebrows pinch, and he chuckles.
“Why do I get a baby and he gets a car?”
“Because you’re the dad and he’s the brother.”
“Well, I don’t want to be the brother.” Elijah drops the car and crosses his arms over his chest. “I want to be the dad so I can boss you two around.”
Winnie rolls her eyes as if that’s the dumbest thing she’s ever heard.
“You can’t be the dad. I’m the mom, and we are brother and sister. That would be weird.”
Elijah ponders that thought, tapping his finger to his chin. He looks at me, and I shrug. I’m not in charge of this game.
“Well, it’s weird for you two to play Mom and Dad too. He’s like your brother.”
“Yeah, but no blood relation. Now shush or you get to clean the toilets.”
I bite back a laugh because Winnie really does sound like a mom, specifically her mom. I’ve heard Mrs. Lewis say that exact thing when Winnie and Elijah are fighting.
Playing house is actually kind of fun, but I’d never admit that out loud. Because I’m the dad, I’m in charge of the house. Even Elijah gave in to the part when I told him if he cleaned his “room,” he could play games. His room being a corner in Winnie’s room, but he really did disappear to play games.
Winnie hums across the room. I think she’s pretending her bed is the kitchen and she’s making dinner. I place the baby doll in its crib and wander toward her.
“Is the baby asleep?”
“Yep.”
She eyes me and smiles. “Good, you can help make dinner.”
Oh, great.
“Okay, what are we making?”
She falls out of character and whispers, “What’s your favorite food?”
“Uh, I like spaghetti, I guess.” Her mom made that for dinner last week, and it was the best food I’ve ever had, so I guess that works.
“We’re having spaghetti.”
I grin. “My favorite.”
Winnie giggles. “I know.”
I set Winnie’s tiny table with plastic plates while she goes and gets her brother—er, son, I guess right now.
To my surprise, Elijah behaves himself at the fake dinner, and it’s actually a nice time. I wonder if we will ever have dinner together like this when we’re bigger.
I hope so.
39
Reese
Winnie is a closet hoarder. She’s not even been at college long and yet her closet is full of the most random shit; I found the skateboard she swore she was going to use and begged her parents for on her tenth birthday. I’ve never seen her skateboard a day in her life.
She has photo album upon photo album. Some with pictures from before she was even born that her parents must have taken, and others that she put together. I’m in a lot of those ones. I fucking love that most of her childhood memories involve me, and I’m equally thankful mine involve her.
I don’t know where I would be without Winnie.
As I’m flipping through the final photo album, I stop on a photo of all four Lewises and me. I think it was taken on Thanksgiving, based on Mr. Lewis’s turkey sweater. I run my finger over the photo, and my heart clenches. Every time I think about Mr. Lewis, I can’t help but think about how proud he would be of both his kids, and how much his son needs him.
Elijah is lost, and I know Winnie worries about her brother more than she lets on. That’s why she doesn’t want to tell him about us or our baby. He’s already on the edge, and she knows that would push him over. I can appreciate Winnie looking out for him, but what’s the cost? Not being able to live her life how she wants, or live it in secret? Sneaking around. If he knew, I could be eating dinner with them right now instead of stuck in her room.
I won’t pressure Winnie to tell him. But boy, I can’t wait. I miss Mrs. Lewis and her infectious laugh. She was the mom I never had and always wanted. When she could have hated me and pushed me out of their life for what my dad did, she pulled me closer, and I’ll forever be grateful for her. Even after Elijah cut me out, Mrs. Lewis checked in on me every holiday, birthday, and the months in between. I’ve never told Winnie that, and I won’t, but her mom was the one who kept me updated on her. I don’t remember how I got to that point, but there was a night last year when I called her and spilled everything—besides me actually fucking her daughter when I did. Even drunk Reese knew better than to tell her that much. However, I did tell her how much I missed Winnie and how Elijah being cold to me fucking sucked. Not my proudest moment, but the next day, I woke up to a package of Tylenol and beef jerky on my doorstep.
She gets me a gift for my birthday and Christmas every year, and I do the same for her, and I know if Winnie were to tell her about us, she’d be so fucking happy for us. Winnie needs to see that it’s okay to be with me.
Which is why I stay seated on the bed when Winnie texts me a very panicked hide!
“Okay, Mom. I’ll show you my room!”
Winnie needs to take up acting lessons if she’s going to continue this charade because ouch, her acting is painful.
Something slams into the door, and Winnie laughs. “I’m just so clumsy. Okay, let’s go inside.”
Oh my God.
The door creaks open, and Winnie sticks her head in first, her eyes rounding when she sees me sitting on her bed like it’s the most normal thing, and to me, it is. I’ve been sitting on Winnie Lewis’s bed for ages. Even if we weren’t together right now, this wouldn’t be that big of a deal. At least to her mom, and thank fuck it’s only her mom who walks through the door.
Her eyebrows shoot up her forehead much like her daughter’s. She glances behind her and closes the door. A cheeky smile splits her face as she looks from her daughter to me.
“Reese Larson.” She tsks. “Thought I was past finding you sneaking around my daughter’s room. Get over here and give me a hug.”
Winnie’s mouth drops. I pull Mrs. Lewis in for a hug, or more so she pulls me in like I’m a little boy and not a good several inches taller than her. Her soft body is like a hit of comfort that I haven’t had in a while.
“What the hell are you doing?” Winnie hisses.
“Winnie Lewis.” Her mom scolds, and I stick out my tongue at her. It really is like we are kids when her mom is around.
I drape my arm over Mrs. Lewis’s shoulders and place my hand on my hip much like her mom is doing.
“You have a lot to tell me, sweetheart.”
Winnie smacks her hand to her face and grumbles under her breath. I’m sure cursing my name in the mix of things.
Mrs. Lewis smiles at me and lifts an eyebrow. “You treating my daughter well?”
“I’d dream of nothing else.”
She pinches my cheeks. “I know you wouldn’t. Such a nice boy.”
Damn straight, I’m a nice boy.
Winnie groans like an embarrassed teen, and I give in trying to prove her wrong. I let go of her mom to wrap her into my hold instead. I kiss the top of her head, and her mom squeals. This is exactly what Winnie needed to see—someone who would be happy for us—and now she has, so I’m not sorry at all. She might be mad at me, but I know what’s good for her.
“I take it Elijah isn’t aware, and that’s why you are hiding out back here?”
I nod.
“Mm-hmm, well. I’m certainly not going to tell him, but you should, sweetheart.” She takes her daughter’s hands, forcing Winnie to look at her. The love that flows from these two is everything I want for our daughter and any future kids, and I know it’s everything they will get. Winnie loves harder than anyone I know. “Elijah loves you.”
“I know, but he hates Reese.”
