She shakes her head against my T-shirt.

“Let me the fuck go,” I snap for her sake, not mine.

She has to stay the fuck away from me because I’m this close from ruining us both for life.

When she doesn’t comply, I grab her arms and shove her away. She releases me with a gasp, but she doesn’t leave.

We’re both breathing harshly as we stand across from one another. She, because she probably took the stairs running – like when she was excited as a kid. Me, because of all the black thoughts swirling in my mind. Thoughts about hugging her again, kissing her, and being a sinful fucker fit for hell and all its friends.

“Why are you here?” I speak in my cruel tone, the one I’ve always used to push her away.

This is how I pretend her presence doesn’t tilt my world and refuses to let it snap back to normal balance.

“Because of you.” She smiles, her eyes sparkling as if she’s reading one of her books.

“Didn’t you hear a word I said at the hospital? You’re my sister, Kim.”

The more I say that word, the harder I dig in that blade from seven years ago. It’s becoming rusty and it hurts like a fucking bitch whenever twisted.

She lifts her chin. “I’m not.”

“Just because you want it to be that way doesn’t mean it’s true. You’re not a kid anymore. Grow the fuck up.”

“Screw you, okay?”

That’ll be impossible. Or possible if she doesn’t get the fuck out of here, now.

“Didn’t know you had incest as a kink, Kim.” I grin.

“Apparently, you do. You always thought about it, didn’t you, Xan?”

My jaw tightens, but I remain silent.

“I’m not judging you.” She sighs. “I probably would’ve been the same.”

“Well, I’m judging you, so get the fuck out of here.”

“So you can leave and never return?” She stares up at me with those huge, gut-stabbing eyes.

Those eyes will be the reason for my free fall to hell. I see it, feel it, can almost fucking taste it.

“Yes,” I mutter.

“You know, even if we were siblings, I would rather have you close than not here at all.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you think I can stay here after all that’s happened?”

“I hope so.”

“What?”

“Listen to me first, okay? Dad told me everything.”

I pause. “What do you mean?”

“We’re not siblings, not biologically, at least.”

Then she goes on to tell me what Calvin said about his relationship with my mum and how Dad and Janine retaliated.

The entire time, I listen to her, but I’m not even sure if the words are reaching me right.

The fact that Calvin is my biological father.

The fact that Dad willingly chose to be my father.

The fact that Mum wasn’t a saint as I tried to convince myself.

But most of all, one fact remains with me through the whole retelling.

One fact revives my heart and allows it to beat.

After Kim finishes talking, she stares up at me with that spark in her eyes, the hope and excitement I thought I killed once upon a time, but they still find their way back to her life.

This time, I have no intention of murdering it. If anything, I’ll protect it, thrive on it.

“So?” she asks.

“So what?”

She grabs my arm. “You have nothing to say?”

I smile at her impatience. Some things never change. “Like what?”

“Xan!” she snaps.

My palm finds her cheek, and my thumb strokes the puffiness under her eye. This means she was crying before coming here.

Once again, I made her cry.

She leans into my touch like a kitten and sighs.

Kim and I are the same in so many ways. We’re both broken, flawed, and have unsatiated hunger.

A hunger so furious, it chips at our souls.

A hunger so strong, nothing but the other one can satiate.

“Does that mean you’re not my sister?” I ask the question she’s wanted to hear since she ran all the way here.

“Not at all. Not even close.”

“Thank fuck.” I tilt her head up and capture her lips with mine.

 

 

29

 

 

Kimberly

 

 

Xander devours me.

I don’t even have to open my mouth or participate or do anything.

Both his hands are on my face as he sucks my soul into his, or that’s what I think happens with the way he nibbles on my lip, how he dances with my tongue, how he robs me of air.

He pushes me against the wall and I moan in pure bliss as my back hits the solid surface. My legs wrap around him as he lifts me up and my arms wind around his neck.

God. He’s so strong and agile, his waist taut and narrow and perfect for my legs.

Or is it?

Should we be doing this now?

He lifts my skirt up and I tighten my legs around him, wrenching my lips away. “Wait.”

A groan spills from him. “I’ve waited long enough, Green.”

My breath hitches at the sound of my nickname out of his mouth. That’s the only name I want him to call me until the end of times.

“Maybe we should talk first?” I don’t know why it comes out as a question or why I’m so breathy as I say it.

“I can talk during.” He yanks my skirt up my thighs and it bunches around my waist. “What do you want to talk about? You? Me? How about me fucking you?”

I bite my lower lip as if that will make the reddening cheeks go away. “How about the fact we were siblings not five minutes ago?”

As soon as the words are out, I regret them. It’s like I’m putting a damper on the entire mood. While I never considered him my brother, he did – for seven years.

All these years, he thought we were blood-related, and it must’ve destroyed him from the inside. It bruised his heart and ate away at his knight armour like acid.

“That didn’t stop me from wanting you, it just stopped me from acting on it.” He leans over and traps my lower lip into his mouth. “Partially, at least.”

He fiddles with something between us and my core tightens every time there’s the hint of friction.

While his words should have some sort of a negative effect on me, they don’t. If anything, I’m wetter, hotter.

Xander is the fire and I’m the gasoline waiting to burn.

He’s the ocean in his eyes and all I want to do is drown. Maybe never return.

It’ll be worth it.

“Do you hate me for wanting you?” He wraps a strong arm around my back and aligns his hard cock with my entrance.

This is happening.

Oh, God. This is actually happening.

Don’t faint. Don’t you dare faint and ruin the whole thing.

I force my gaze on him, using him as an anchor, and say the truest words I’ve ever said. “No.”

“How about if I don’t use protection because I want to feel you strangling my dick?”

Why does he have to word it like that and why are my thighs coated with arousal.

“No. I-I’m on the shot.” I’ve been on it for years, secretly hoping he’d one day take me, own me, make me his.