Illicit Desires (Illicit #1) Read online

  I stood still for a few moments, giving him time to use the bathroom, expecting him to then come out to tell me what was going on. But he stayed in there a long time, and my worry hit the roof. I was about to knock again when I heard him panting very fast. Then, I heard an unmistakable moan followed by a muffled groan.

  Thinking that he was surely hurt, I started knocking on the door like a crazy person. "Adrian! Please, open the door! Tell me what's wrong! Please tell me that you're okay," I sobbed, not able to control my tears any longer. "Adrian, I'll go call Mom!" I said when he didn't respond.

  "No!" he shouted. "Just give me a minute."

  Drying my tears with the back of my hand, I waited for him to come out, which he finally did after a few minutes. He looked flushed, his forehead was glistening with sweat, and he looked… Not. Okay.

  "What is it?" I asked. His gaze was fixed on the floor, and he wouldn't look at me. So, I tried again: "Adrian, what happened?"

  "Nothing," he replied after a long pause, his lips trembling slightly as if he was just about to cry.

  "Adrian, look at me." I brought my hand to his face, wanting to touch his cheek, but he backed away and turned his face to the other side, refusing my touch. It hurt me.

  He went back to his room and closed the door. I tried opening it, but he'd locked it from the inside. Waking up my Mom and telling her that Adrian didn't seem to be okay was the next thing I did. Eventually, he opened the door for her and said that his stomach hurt and he wasn't feeling well.

  We all stayed home that day, waiting for him to feel better, but the days passed, and he didn't. In the end, my parents went on like nothing was wrong and enjoyed their vacation, especially after Dad examined him and said that nothing was wrong with him at all.

  Nevertheless, I couldn't just leave him like that and go enjoy myself; Adrian was my twin—the other half of my soul—and if he said he wasn't well, then he wasn't, and I would stay by his side.

  Still fearing to sleep alone in my room, I went every night to sleep beside him. I would wake up to find him sitting on the armchair across from his bed, his face buried in his hands or just sleeping on the floor. I knew then that my company made him uncomfortable, so I put on my big girl panties and just slept alone.

  "Adri?" I tried.

  He was lying on his bed, his back facing me. "Don't. Call me. That."

  I'd been trying to wake him up for quite a while, and he just wouldn't respond. Finally, I tried calling him by the name he hated just to get a reaction from him. And, it worked!

  "So you are awake!" I huffed.

  He didn't respond.

  "Do you realize it's the last day of our vacation today?"

  "Whatever."

  I wasn't used to that kind of attitude from Adrian. He'd always been good to me—always treating me as nicely and gently as he could. But not anymore. "Adrian, please. It's been so long. If you'd just tell me what's wrong?" Again, he didn't reply. So, I continued on. "I'd been dying to go on this vacation since forever, and I ended up spending it all in this room just reading books and being worried sick about you. And you just won’t talk to me no matter how much I’ve tried!"

  "You don't have to stay in here," he said in a low voice.

  "I want to. Please, Adrian, let's get out and just enjoy this last day! Please. I would kill to get in that water." I tried to hide the hurt in my voice at the sound of his words.

  "You can do that," he said, still not facing me.

  "I can't do anything without you; you know that very well!"

  He sighed.

  "Please!" I begged and begged for God only knows how long. He finally agreed.

  Finally, I put on my bathing suit, which I’d never used, and I waited for him, sitting beside Mom, who was lying on her stomach to get a "nice tan" or whatever. Dad was busy doing something on his laptop even though it was a vacation. Mom allowed him two hours every day to do whatever he needed to do with his research and such.

  Ignoring how Adrian's face fell when he saw me, I smiled at him. He looked like as if his face had been drained of all of its blood, and it was all flushed at the same time. I didn't know how … or why for that matter.

  I knew that everything that was going on with Adrian had something to do with me. I knew he was mad at me for some reason—for something I'd done. I didn't know what it was, but I knew that Adrian was too nice to ever hurt me by voicing it … whatever it was. I just tried to make it up to him and to get him out of that shell he'd built around himself. Maybe I could learn what was wrong with him in the process.

  The water was quiet with just a few small waves every now and then. It felt amazing, but if Adrian was enjoying it, he didn't show it. I pulled him with my hand in his as we went in deeper until the water was covering our lower halves.

  "Do you want to go deeper?" I asked, to which he didn't reply.

  Sighing, I took him by the hand again and went in further, until the water hid my chest completely; it hid Adrian's too, since we were almost the same height back then.

  "That's better," he said, and I couldn't believe that he’d finally spoken, but I tried not to show my excitement. I just ignored it like it wasn't something out of the ordinary.

  "Cool!" I said, smiling. Looking at the shore to see how far we'd gone, I saw that my parents were nothing but small dots, far, far away.

  Like any two people swimming together, I circled Adrian's shoulders with my arms, watching him as he clenched his eyes shut and squeezed hard, taking a deep breath. I waited for him to hold me too, and he finally did, but it took him too long. Longer than necessary. He rested his hands either side of my body and left them there.

  "You're no fun!" I joked, pouting as I splashed him with water. He looked at me in disbelief, and then I saw a hint of a smile on his lips. It was something I hadn't seen in what had felt like years. Then his eyes darkened, and I knew he was going to do the same thing all over again. I let go of him and tried to get away, but the water wouldn't let me.

  We stayed in the water too long (until I saw wrinkles forming on my fingertips), but I didn't care. I was finally having a good time with Adrian. We were playing in the water, splashing each other, and running here and there. I shoved his head under the water a couple of times, but he didn't do it back; he was just that nice.

  The air was filled with my happy screams and our laughter. Yes, I said our laughter. Adrian was finally letting go of whatever was bothering him, and I couldn't have been happier.

  When I was exhausted from all of the playing, I rested my arms around his shoulders again. I laid my head on the spot where his neck met his shoulder, trying to catch my breath, and he held me to him as we swayed lazily in the water. I looked up at him and smiled, but he didn't smile back. Instead, he pressed his lips to mine.

  It was the very first time Adrian had kissed me there; it was the first time anyone had kissed me there for the record. I didn't think much about it, since we were always close, and I mean really close. So what if he kissed me so tenderly on the mouth? It meant nothing!

  It was as if he knew what I was thinking and wanted to prove the opposite because, suddenly, the kiss wasn't tender anymore. He pulled me closer to his body, tugging my bottom lip between his lips. I didn't know if I should pull back or not. I mean… It was Adrian for God's sake—my brother, my twin.

  His hands started wandering over my back and sides, and suddenly it felt all wrong, but I still didn't pull back. I just stayed frozen in place, shocked.

  Once I felt his tongue pushing its way inside my mouth, however, I pulled back in a second. "Adrian!" He didn't respond to me; his mouth was busy placing kisses all over my jaw line before making his way to my neck.

  "Adrian! What are you doing?" I tried pushing him away, but he held me firmly, so I wasn't able to move him—not even an inch. "Knock it off!" I shoved him away once I felt a slight pressure on my neck as he sucked on the skin there.

  His eyes were heavy with something I didn't understand; it was something I'd n
ever seen before. I saw it for a split second before he came back to me as if I hadn’t just shoved him or anything, attacking my neck with his lips.

  The second time I pushed him away, he didn't try again. I don’t know if it was because I shoved him hard or because I said, "Stop!" Either way, he did.

  He stared at me with wide eyes like he couldn’t believe what he had just done. Heck, I didn't believe what he had just done!

  "Adrian! What the hell? Are you out of your mind?"

  "Lily, I …"

  I mentally replayed what had just happened, and my blood ran cold. So, I slapped him. For the first time in my whole short life, I slapped Adrian. I didn't know how I did it, but I was mad at him. So mad.

  His hand came to where mine had just touched his face; his eyes grew even wider as disbelief, terror and shame filled them. I stood there just staring and he held my gaze—still saying so much with his eyes. But again, another first… I couldn't read him.

  I only knew that there was regret.

  He should feel regret. Eventually, I left him standing there in the water. One thought left me with a desperate need to puke.

  I kissed back.

  A week had passed since it had happened, and I gave her all of that time to calm down; she was so mad at me. Fuck! I was mad at me. I couldn't believe what I had done; I didn't know what had possessed me to do it, but then again, I also knew exactly why I had.

  I'd spent two weeks at the beach house doing nothing but thinking about her body and the way it affected me when I saw it. I couldn't help the shame and embarrassment of how I reacted because of it.

  Better yet or rather worse yet—, I couldn't believe that I'd actually jerked off due to the sight of my sister in a bikini. What kind of a brother would do that shit? As a brother, I should have been ready to beat the crap out of anyone who would even dare to think about doing that to thoughts of my sister—not doing it myself!

  I even did it while she was standing just outside of the bathroom. I couldn't bear the lust that was filling me when I saw her perfect, small body. I kept on chanting in my mind that it wasn't right, that it was all wrong, but nothing worked.

  My sister was no longer a little girl.

  The thought made me sick. I felt like a fucking animal; I was unable to control my lust—lust that had reached its breaking point over my own sister, my own blood. I hated myself for doing it. I hated myself for the way I thought and for the way I reacted, but I just couldn't help it.

  When she came to my room, I did my best to stay away from her, knowing that I might not be able to control myself if she was too close to me. And I was right.

  When she was with me in the water, I acted like an animal and attacked her mouth and neck. I couldn't stay still while she looked that beautiful, half naked and all … wet.

  Fuck!

  Her lips felt like heaven … true heaven. It seemed like because I had craved her for so many days, I couldn't stop my hunger and need. I was lost to my lust and desire, and I didn't hear anything she said beyond "stop." Her slap finally woke me up from my dazed, lustful state. And I deserved it, I really deserved it.

  What kind of a brother does this shit?

  She was mad at me, but she told our parents that there was nothing wrong when they asked why she looked so upset, and for that I was grateful. I didn't need to take their shit … not with all of these fucked up things going through my mind and body.

  Eventually, after I spent seven whole days without her speaking one word to me, I went to her room and apologized for all I was worth. I begged her to forgive me, and she did, but she also asked why I had done it.

  Of course, I couldn't tell her the truth. Seriously, how could I tell my own twin that I lusted after her? So, I settled on a stupid lie. I told her that I’d drunk some Scotch I'd stolen from my parents' liquor cabinet, and I’d mistaken her for someone else.

  Lily wasn't naïve; I knew that. She was so smart, and she liked to investigate everything. She was always following the evidence to uncover the truth about whatever she wanted to know.

  Guess she got that from Henry.

  Even so, she didn't ask anything further, and I didn't know why. Did I want anything else but that, though? No! Either she bought it or she didn't; it was fine with me either way as long as she didn't ask any more questions or cause me to hate myself even more than I already did.

  After that, we kind of got back to our "normal." Well, from her side we did, but not from mine. We talked to each other like nothing had ever happened between us; we … or rather she preferred to ignore it. Even so, I saw it in her eyes when she avoided my touch every time I came closer to her, which I did very rarely. I missed how we were before that summer.

  Me? I didn't say much, but when she started a conversation, I couldn't make eye contact with her most of the time. I couldn't talk to her about anything the way I used to—back when I could tell her everything—before that bikini happened.

  I hated it so much more than anyone could even imagine. I knew since that first time I masturbated while thinking of her that I'd lost my sister—or at least my feelings that I'd had for her as a sister… Or, maybe, those feelings were still there, but were mixed with lust and desire.

  Fuck!

  I didn't know. The worst thing was that the only person I could ever have heart-to-heart talks with was the last one I could talk to about what was bothering me most. I spent so many days, weeks, and even months wondering why? Why had this happened to us? To us among of all of siblings? Why me and her? I loved her the most, and I knew she felt the same way, so why did it have to be ruined by the fucking lustful ache that I held for her?

  Fucking why?

  I never got an answer.

  One whole year passed in this exact same fashion. I tried to keep as little of her company as I could, and she tried to pretend nothing had ever happened between us. She changed, and I don't just mean her body, which had become that of a more desirable woman with every new day. No, her actions towards me changed, too.

  She never slept in my room again, never held my hand while we took walks, never lay on my lap while we watched movies. She pretty much made every effort to avoid touching me.

  She might've been talking with me like before, still laughing with me, making me laugh, or even laughing at me. Maybe she acted like it was all fine, but I knew she never forgot what I did. Maybe part of her didn't actually forgive me as she’d said.

  All I could do was just wait for the days to pass—not knowing where I'd go with this or if I'd ever be able to not desire her that much (or even at all if that was possible).

  That year passed with me doing nothing more than jerking off. Sometimes, because of a new top or new blouse she wore, sometimes because she bent down to pick up something from the floor and put that delicious ass of hers right in front of my eyes to ogle, and other times simply because of the scent of her shampoo or a sweet smile she had given me.

  Oh, the smile…

  I could still see it like it had just happened a moment ago. Like we were still in the water with my arms surrounding her and hers surrounding me. There was that second when she looked up at me and flashed me that perfect smile; I almost drooled, but instead, I pressed my lips to hers.

  Fuck it! I could still taste her.

  I brought my fingertips up to touch my lips at the thought, remembering the feeling of those delicate lips on them, and how it—

  "What are you doing?" Lily's voice interrupted my thoughts—the thoughts that were only about her; everything was about her.

  I put my hand back on my lap right away. I was sitting on the couch in the living room pretending to be watching TV, but the truth was: I was only busy having lustful thoughts about my sister. "Nothing much." I stayed focused on the big flat screen.

  "I'm bored. Do you want to watch a movie with me?"

  "Sure." I readjusted myself on the couch and made room for her, since it was the best place in the living room to watch TV.

  "Cool! What do
you want to watch?" she asked, and I had to look up at her. It would have been too rude of me to continue to avoid looking at her while she was talking to me.

  "Whatever you want." I offered her a small smile.

  "Okay. Just remember you said that," she chuckled lightly, and I just smiled. I knew she'd put on some chick movie, but I didn't want to argue with her.

  Arguing meant I'd have to look at her, and I'd always end up in the bathroom, grabbing the shit out of my dick… Yeah, of course I liked the feeling of the orgasms, but I hated the thoughts that helped me to get off—thoughts of my sister.

  "Ta da!" she sang once the title of the movie appeared on the screen.

  "Oh, c'mon!"

  "I warned you, so suck it up!" She stuck her tongue out at me.

  I turned my eyes away from her immediately, then took one of the small pillows that Mom had put all over the couches, chairs, and even the floor, and I put it on my lap to hide my instant hard-on, doing my best not to let out a moan at the sight of that rosy tongue of hers.

  It wasn't just the sight of her tongue that caused my wood; it was the damn thought about what could I do with it and—

  Stop it, Adrian! Just fucking stop it!

  I don’t know how much time I spent on that couch, drowning in my thoughts. I almost came in my pants a couple of times at the sound of her sighs.

  "Even though I love this movie so much, I still hate how it ends," she said, sighing again.

  "Yeah, Romeo… He killed his love with his stupidity." I stared at the screen, trying to do anything other than drool all over my sister, and I saw her shaking her head in sorrow out of the corner of my eye.

  "I envy him though," I continued.

  "Why is that?"

  "His powerful will to actually commit suicide," I whispered.

  Her head shot to my direction. "You envy him because he was strong enough to kill himself?"

  "Yeah…"

  "Adrian, what are you saying?"

  "I … uh … I thought about it befo—" Before I could finish, I felt a sting on the back of my head. She’d smacked me.