“Fine.” Sara shrugs. “Then Halle can go.”

  Saint stiffens from where she’s seated next to me. I’m not going to let that happen, baby, I try to tell her. “You’re kidding. Saint barely knows her!”

  “Which is why I suggested you in the first place. This is not to make anyone uncomfortable. It’s to create some distance between you two that you desperately need. This has gotten way out of hand, and I blame myself for letting it go on this long! I should have put a stop to all of this long ago. All you two care about is each other and…” My mom scrunches her nose in what seems like disgust and waves her hand back and forth between us. “This.”

  “Sara, please don’t do this. I love him. And… I don’t want him to go. I need him,” Saint begs, and I can tell she’s crossing out of anger and into sadness over the situation.

  “And therein lies the problem. You two are so codependent… and you need time apart. I’m trying to protect you two from yourselves. When you’re older, you’ll see. You both are just too close to the relationship. But this will never work in the real world.”

  “You don’t know what we’ll feel when we’re older.” Halle scrunches her nose. “I’m sorry that the world has been so cruel to you that it’s not given you a chance to fully explore love, but don’t take that away from us because you’re bitter.”

  “Saint…” I can hear the hurt in her voice and the pain that comes with referencing the passing of her father, but my mother lost someone in that scenario too.

  My mother nods, but I see the hurt in her face. “You two think you’re just the first people in the world to ever fall in love. The first to ever think that the sun rises and sets with another person. You are so young, and you haven’t seen anything yet. But it’s called a first love for a reason. It means that you will go on to have more loves. Ones that are real and will teach you so much about yourself and won’t be born out of convenience or trauma or forced proximity. I get that you think that you love each other—”

  “I know I love him.” Saint interrupts. “And you can send him away, but it’s not going to stop me from loving him. It’s not going to stop him from loving me.”

  “I’m not going,” I say again. I hate that it seems like no one is listening to me and, worse, that it sounds like Saint is conceding.

  “You’re right, I can’t control your thoughts or feelings, but I can control your proximity to each other. I can control the situation because you two can’t control your hormones. Wild, Aunt Emily is expecting you tomorrow.”

  “I can’t believe you’re sending me away. I’m your son.”

  “I know, and I promise it’s all for your own good. One day, you’ll see that I am doing this because I love you. Both of you.” I hear the words, but her demeanor doesn’t match. It doesn’t seem like she loves us. She looks cold, almost stoic as she says this, and I wonder if it’s just the stress of the situation making her come off like she doesn’t care that this is going to hurt us both… or maybe she actually doesn’t care.

  Present Day

  That was the summer when everything changed. I could sense Saint’s resentment for my mother growing with every conversation we had. The tension had been building for years, ever since Saint and I first figured out our feelings for each other, but that summer brought everything to a boiling point. Saint was angry with her for separating us, which led to constant arguing. And if they weren’t arguing, they weren’t speaking at all. By the time that summer was over, Saint and my mother really only spoke when they had to. Saint didn’t trust her with anything, and I remember it even went so far as to ask Mrs. Sharpe from next door, my mother’s best friend, for homecoming dress advice. Years later, my mother told me she wished she’d handled things differently and that her relationship with Halle wasn’t so strained, but she understood why Halle had created that distance.

  We were much more careful after that. When I came home for the holidays, we never did anything in the house. We were still sneaking around, but we were much better at it. And we only had to do this through Halle’s senior year, because once she was a freshman in college, she moved out of my mother’s house, got an off-campus apartment, and never went back. Halle received a sum of money from her father’s will, as well as money that my mother had saved for her when she turned eighteen, which provided her with more than enough to rent an apartment. She also worked, which allowed her to save quite a bit as well. But this gave us a place to be alone during breaks so we didn’t have to be as careful.

  I assumed my mother thought we were still together, but what could she do? We were eighteen and no longer under her roof. Since Halle turned eighteen, my mother has never explicitly mentioned it again. She’s hinted at it a few times in more of a questioning way, but I never wanted to get into it, and she probably only talked to Halle a few times a year. Polite conversations on holidays and birthdays but never about anything substantial.

  I put my phone down after going through emails and look at the woman sitting next to me, who is also scrolling on her phone, feeling my hunger for her grow by the second. I wanted her the second I opened my eyes this morning. I was as hard as fuck after she’d spent the night grinding against my dick in her sleep, and I could only swipe my finger against her swollen clit once before she stirred and shooed me away, murmuring something about it being too early. I’d kept her up late, so I let her sleep despite my cock screaming to get inside her.

  She looked so fucking sexy despite not being up for long before we had to leave for the airport. Half of her hair was pulled back into a clip, pulling her hair off her face, while letting the rest of it barely dust her shoulders. It was still sporting some significant wave from the curls she put it in last night, even after I spent the night tangling my hands in her hair. She’d put on some makeup in the Uber because she was always running late and had become a pro at getting ready while in motion. She even went so far as to use that thing that makes a woman’s eyelashes appear longer. I swear, it looks like she’s going to poke her eye out every time she uses it.

  “You’re staring at me,” she whispers, not wanting to disturb anyone around us. We were only about thirty minutes into our two-hour flight from New York to North Carolina, and it was barely eight a.m., so most of the people around us were either working or sleeping.

  “When am I not staring at you?”

  I love the smile pulling at her lips that are covered in something shiny that I wanted to lick off her.

  God, she was beautiful. I want her so bad I almost can’t take it.

  It hasn’t been this bad since we were younger, when we couldn’t sate each other whenever we wanted.

  I reach my hand up to press the call button, and within a few minutes, the bubbly flight attendant is standing beside my seat. I can feel Saint’s eyes on me from her seat next to the window, and I wonder if she’ll know what my plans are when I make my request.

  “Can I get a blanket, please?”

  “Absolutely, sir. Would you like one or two?” she asks with a polite nod toward Saint.

  “Two would actually be great, thank you,” I tell her, and she’s gone just as quickly as she arrived.

  “There’s no way in the world you’re cold.” Saint chuckles. “I’m not even cold,” she says, which is a shocker, considering Saint could feel a chill in the middle of summer.

  “You are correct. I am not,” I tell her, without offering another explanation as to why I requested blankets for us. The flight attendant returns with two white blankets, and I drape one over Saint before doing the same to me, more to hide my dick should it rise in response to what I’m planning to do.

  My left hand is beneath her blanket in an instant and inside her loose joggers that I’d asked her to wear instead of tight leggings for this very reason. She gasps quietly, and I pick up my phone to appear busy doing something else other than rubbing my index finger over her covered pussy.

  I open our text thread instantly.

  Me: Don’t react. Be a good girl and be still for me.

  I notice her typing in my periphery, and I’m not surprised to see her response instantly.

  Saint: Don’t stop.

  Me: Have I ever stopped before making you come?

  She lets out a quiet breath that even I probably would have missed if I wasn’t hyperaware of every move she’s making right now. I can feel the tiny move of her hips against my hands. I notice the tension building in her shoulders, causing them to rise slightly.

  Me: You’re drenched. I can feel it through your underwear.

  I manage to type out with one hand as I continue to rub her gently through the silk, keeping my movements slow and steady so it doesn’t appear that I’m moving at all.

  “Damn.” She sighs quietly, and even though I barely hear it, my dick throbs like she licked the word across the head.

  I make my way inside her underwear, and a tiny shudder moves through me when I feel the hint of wetness already on her bare skin. I push two fingers through her slit and lightly rub her clit before sliding my thumb inside her underwear as well to pinch the bundle of nerves. Outwardly, she doesn’t react, but I can feel her cunt clenching around me, her clit fluttering against my fingers with every swipe against it.

  Me: You’re doing so good, baby. No one on this plane knows how wet you are or that your stepbrother’s fingers are buried deep in your pussy right now.

  I move closer to her, leaning my arm on the rest between us so I can get deeper inside her. I push my index and middle fingers inside her while continuing to rub her clit. She lets out a breath through her nose, then her teeth sink into those plush, pouty lips.

  Saint: You’re driving me crazy.

  Me: Good. Take what you need and come all over my fingers. I can’t wait to taste your orgasm from them.

  I notice the flight attendant stands and makes her way to the front row, and I realize she’s asking if anyone needs anything. I glance over at Saint, who I can tell is trying to control her breathing, but her eyes are squeezed shut.

  “Open those pretty eyes,” I whisper, and when she does, she notices the flight attendant just one seat ahead of us. “Want something to drink, baby?”

  “No,” she says, but it comes out slightly breathy, and I hear not only the lust but the nervousness over potentially getting caught in her voice. I notice her hand move under the blanket; my guess is to move mine, but I tighten my grip on her.

  “Nice try.” I grin, just as the flight attendant approaches us. I’m actually glad that her hand is under the blanket, as someone could just as easily assume we are holding hands.

  “Something to drink?” she asks.

  “I’ll take a coffee,” I tell her before turning my gaze to Saint. “You mentioned you were thirsty, honey. What would you like?” I ask her as I slow my fingers.

  She glares at me before clearing her throat, and just as she opens her mouth, I speed up, rubbing her clit hard just as I curl my index finger upward to reach her G-spot. A cough expels from her, and I try to hide my grin as she sputters out a “water is fine, thank you” before the flight attendant retreats.

  Saint: I am going to kill you.

  Me: You love me. Now give me what I want. I know you’re close.

  And she was. Her hips haven’t stopped gently rocking against me, and her hand has moved over top of mine, guiding me where she wants me. She’d pulled my fingers out of her and placed my two fingers to her clit, moving them for me in a circle while she managed to move her hips without moving the rest of her body.

  Her clit is so slippery, tingles shoot through my body, and my throat suddenly goes dry, desperate to replace my fingers with my mouth. I look at the front of the plane, where the restroom is, wondering if there was any chance in hell anyone would notice if we both went in there.

  I’ve been trying my best not to look at her, knowing that the second I cast my eyes on her while she’s like this, I’ll never be able to pull them away. But the quiet whimper that she lets out, alerting me that she’s close, has my eyes darting to her just as she goes over the edge. Her other hand grips the armrest, and her hand loosens from around mine just as her eyes flutter closed for a second. Like she knows she’s in public, but she can’t resist the urge to indulge in the pleasure fully. She opens her eyes after a beat before turning her wicked gaze to me as I pull my hand out from between her legs. I don’t immediately slide them through my lips like I want to, having had a better idea float through my head as the flight attendant begins to move up the aisle.

  “I can’t believe you,” she says quietly while rolling her shoulders back and moving her neck in a circle. “God, that was fucking good though.” I know Saint’s body as well as I know my own, and I’ve spent years making her come, but knowing I make her feel good still sends that familiar surge of pride I felt the first time I made her come all those years ago.

  The flight attendant returns with a warm smile, placing my coffee in front of me and a cup of ice water in front of Saint. I don’t waste a second before dragging my wet fingertips across the rim of the mug, rubbing all of Saint’s juices along it. I do a quick scan of those around me to make sure no one is watching before I inconspicuously lick the rim of the mug and take a sip of the black coffee. Saint is watching in fascination, her eyes ping ponging between my mouth and the mug. “Thanks for the creamer.” I lift my chin toward her, and her eyes finally pull away from my mouth to meet my eyes.

  “I… I need to go clean up…” she stammers, and I smile, knowing that this simple move has made her horny for me all over again.

  I let her out, and I watch as she makes her way up the aisle, my eyes trained on her ass that I want nothing more than to sink my teeth into, bouncing with each step.

  Saint is barely inside the bathroom before I have a message from her.

  Saint: My underwear is soaked, so thank you for that.

  Me: You’re welcome. Take them off and bring them to me.

  Saint: I am not doing that.

  Me: When did you become shy? What happened to the girl who used to leave her wet underwear in my gym locker so I’d find them after practice?

  Saint: omg I forgot about that lol

  I see the bubbles indicating she’s typing, but I’m not expecting the picture to pop up on my phone, which is of her taking a photo of herself in the mirror. Topless.

  Fuuuuuck.

  My cock that had previously softened after she’d orgasmed all over my fingers has sprung back to life at the stunning visual of my gorgeous girl’s perky nipples.

  Me: Are you trying to get me to come in there?

  Saint: Just figured I’d give you something *winky face*

  Me: You are so beautiful. I never get tired of looking at you.

  I save the photo, adding it to my hidden pictures folder, which is a shrine to Saint with all the videos and photos of her and some of us together.

  Saint: My pussy is still throbbing from when you touched me. It still aches.

  Me: Are you in there… touching yourself?

  Saint: I needed another one.

  Me: Fuck.

  I rub a hand over my jaw and run my tongue aggressively over my teeth, fucking hating that only about twenty steps and a tiny door separate me from a half-naked Saint with a hand between her legs.

  Me: What are you thinking about?

  Saint: That time you came all over yourself while you were eating me out.

  Christ.

  Me: Which time?

  Memories of grinding my dick into the mattress while I rubbed my tongue against her pussy come flooding back, and my chest instantly tightens. My fingers itch with the need to touch her, so I reach for the mug in front of me. I’m desperate for a taste of her again, and though hints of her still linger on the rim, it doesn't quell the ache coursing through me. She probably doesn’t respond because she’s focused on coming.

  Me: So fucking glad I decided to rent a car because I can’t make it to the hotel before I need to be inside you.

  I hear the sound of the door opening, and Saint steps out looking very sated with a sexy grin on her face that makes me want to shove my dick through her lips in front of everyone in first class. I shake my head at her, and she gives me a flirty smile as she slides back into her seat.

  “Much better,” she says before turning back to her phone and not looking in my direction. For the remainder of the flight, she was engrossed in her phone, almost as if she was ignoring me on purpose. By the time we land, I am as hard as stone, and I can't wait another second to be inside her.

  We pull up in the familiar parking lot, and I’m transported back to a time when we frequented this area. I look up at the office building that’s closed due to the weekend, and I’m instantly flooded with feelings of nostalgia. We used to come here all the time because it was far enough from our house that no one would accidentally stumble on Wild’s car, but close enough that we could get back to the house quickly if Sara figured out what we were doing. While we had to mix it up sometimes, this was our favorite place to come. The parking lot was in the back of the building, hidden from the road, and it also faced a wooded area, so we rarely worried about anyone coming up behind us when we were in the back seat.

  “It’s been so long since we’ve been here.” I cast a shy glance at him, suddenly feeling like I’m sixteen years old again.

  “Do you wanna get in the back?” he asks, reminiscent of the first time he asked me that in this very parking lot.

  I look in the back before turning my head to meet his gaze. “I don’t know,” I tell him. “I think I’m just a little nervous. I’ve never done anything like that.”

  “We only have to do what you’re comfortable with. You know I would never hurt you,” he says, repeating those exact words he said to me all those years ago.