“So what if you do?” Brian rolled his eyes. “You think she’ll break up with me over that? Please. She’ll forgive me in a heartbeat, and I’ll be banging her again inside two weeks, bet me on it. Girls like her… it’s too easy.” Girls like her… what did that mean?
“You should be ashamed of yourself.”
He rolled his eyes. “Whatever, lady.”
“Do you really care so little about her?”
He shrugged. “She’s all right, I guess. Gives good head.” I wanted to hit him. I might have, if Henry hadn’t hauled him into the hallway and punched him in the face. It all happened so fast I barely had time to catch my breath. Henry was yelling and swinging, Brian was yelling and swinging back, although more half-heartedly, since he hadn’t expected the attack. Doc came roaring up the stairs to break it up, pushing each of them against an opposite wall with the heel of each hand.
“What the hell is going on here?”
“Ask Brian.” Henry spat, wiping blood from his lower lip and glowering. “Or Ronnie can tell you. Tell them, Ronnie.”
“I…don’t…” I stood there with my mouth open, paralyzed, my heart sinking when I saw Janie standing at the top of the stairs with Liz beside her, Gretchen and Carrie crowding in behind them.
“Well, whatever it is…” Doc frowned, looking between the two still struggling boys and then back to me. “I think we should call it a night.”
Janie howled, turning to her mother and sobbing. “This is all her fault! Why did you ask her to come back? I hate her!”
I winced at her words, shrinking back against the bathroom door. She glared at me, her eyes flashing, as she hissed, “I hate you! I hate you!” before running to her room.
Brian shook Doc off, heading toward the stairs, mumbling a quick good night, and before I could register what had happened, both he and Liz were gone, Henry had locked himself in his room, and Doc, Carrie and Gretchen had settled back downstairs on the couch. The TV was on, and Carrie had invited me to join them, but I gave her a shaky “No thanks” reply. The couch bed was technically my bedroom, but I didn’t want to hang out there, so I went to Gretchen’s room-my old bedroom-stretched out on the bed, and cried myself to sleep.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The water was so warm and buoyant I could have floated forever, the sun bright behind my eyes as the waves gently rocked me. I was, strangely, more relaxed than I’d been since I arrived. Just being out in the water reminded me of what I’d termed the “raft therapy session” I’d had with Doc the night before, and the memory made me feel warm from the inside out. Something had broken open in me then, and I had no more qualms about being here. TJ was due to fly in soon—just a few more days—but I wasn’t worried anymore. Things would work out.
I’d decided that was going to be my mantra for the rest of this little vacation. Things would work out. Whatever was going on with Janie… well, it would work itself out. If Brian was cheating on Janie, well…it would work itself out. If Henry was interested in the girl Brian had been cheating with, well… that would work itself out, too. Somehow.
I opened my eyes and started swimming toward shore, my sudden hunger outweighing my craving for sun. I grabbed my towel off the sand and went into the house, shivering at the sudden cold-the air conditioning was running full blast against the incredible heat of the day. I grabbed a banana off the counter and ate it on my way up the stairs, heading for the shower.
I was alone in the house—everyone had decided to go for ice cream, but I’d decided I didn’t want to be in the same car with Janie. Even if I wanted to believe it was all going to work out, I didn’t think I needed to put myself in harm’s way or volunteer for any further abuse. And I knew, just from the way Janie bristled when I came downstairs that morning after spending the night in Gretchen’s room—without Gretchen, incidentally, who had given me a sheepish smile when she came out of the Baumgartner’s bedroom in the morning—that Janie was still angry about the night before.
So I didn’t expect Henry to be in the bathroom. I probably would have just opened the door without even thinking, but I caught a glimpse of him in the mirror through the crack in the door—it was slightly ajar. He was standing there completely naked, his cock hard in his hand, with a pair of pink panties pressed to his face.
I knew they were panties, because I recognized the “Hello Kitty” on them—Janie had been wearing them last night when she’d shown us her tattoo.
Frozen, I stood there and watched as he lazily stroked himself, eyes closed, totally oblivious to my presence. He inhaled deeply, groaning softly, his hand moving faster up and down his cock.
I shrank back, my stomach clenching, afraid he’d find me here watching him. But I didn’t turn and go. I didn’t. I couldn’t figure out why Henry was home-
he’d left with everyone else to get ice cream, I thought. He knew I was out swimming… maybe he’d come back to have some time alone? To do…this? I stared as he wrapped the panties around the base of his cock, stroking himself now with the silky material.
He’s a young man, I reminded myself, swallowing hard. A wind blows and they get hard. It’s biological. But those were Janie’s panties. His sister’s panties.
That was just…wrong. All kinds of wrong. And still, I didn’t move. I didn’t barge in and ask him just what in the hell he thought he was doing. I didn’t turn and walk away. I stood in the doorway and watched, feeling an ache swelling between my legs. I didn’t move until Henry stopped, giving a quick, guilty look toward the door, and then moved to open it. Quickly, as silently as I could, I slipped into Gretchen’s room and hid behind the door.
I peeked between the crack in the door and saw him head to his room. He pushed the door open and then swung it behind him, but it didn’t latch. Now what? I knew I should just go take a shower and pretend nothing had happened, but somehow I couldn’t. The memory of him standing behind the cabana, watching his sister be fucked… and now this, seeing him masturbating with a pair of his sister’s panties… what was going on?
I crept down the hall, just inches at a time. His door was open, just slightly ajar and I stopped there with a good view of Henry stretched out on his bed, his fist pumping his cock with furious enthusiasm. I stood there, undecided, knowing what he was doing was wrong-and what I was doing was even more wrong. But I couldn’t stop.
My god, he was beautiful. He was like a younger version of Doc, tall and broad and tanned, like some gorgeous Greek god, his dark hair tousled and a little too long, hanging over his forehead. His cock… oh no, I shouldn’t be thinking it, should most definitely not be wanting it like I was… such a gorgeous thing, standing straight up, the pink panties making the red tip of his cock look even darker.
“Ohhhh yeah,” Henry moaned, squeezing his fist tight, and I saw a slow, sweet seep of pre-cum flow out onto his sister’s panties. “Oh god, Janie, suck me, baby, suck it good…”
My belly tightened at his words. Knowing he had his sister’s panties was one thing—I mean, even I could rationalize that in some way. The smell of pussy was… well… intoxicating. But knowing that he was actually fantasizing about Janie, picturing her sucking his cock? That was something else altogether.
And still I didn’t go. Instead, I found my hand pressed between my legs, cupping my aching mound as I watched him. The head of his cock played peek-a-boo with the satin of his sister’s panties. The glistening tip wept continually, soaked up by the silky material that grew darker and darker with every pump of Henry’s hand.
“Yeah, I want your pussy,” he murmured, his head going from side to side, his hips thrusting up. “Spread it. Oh god yeah. Fuck me, Janie. Yeah!” Oh god. This was so wrong. My fingers slipped under the wet crotch of my suit, seeking the heat of my pussy, watching as Henry reached next to him on the night table for a bottle of baby oil. Mrs. B had a ton of the stuff around to use for tanning…but this clearly wasn’t the first time Henry had done this. He let several fat drops fall onto the naked head of his cock before putting it back on the table.