My lips twitch as I hand over her travel cup, the ice clinking together. “Why on earth you choose to have iced coffee every morning is beyond me.”
She takes a sip, closing her eyes in bliss. “You always make it just right.”
“Years of practice.”
For the first time in weeks, she gives me a genuine smile. It makes my chest ache to see the simple upturn of her lips. It’s Elysian for someone like me.
“Where are my bags?” She asks as she frowns at the front door.
“Already in the car,” I grab my mug, placing a hand at the small of her back as I guide her out of the house. She walks a little ahead, breaking our connection as she attempts to ignore my presence altogether.
That won’t do.
I open her door for her before snatching the front of her throat. She gasps, eyes rounded and shocked as I squeeze gently.
“Your brother wants something, Sunny.” I croon.
Her throat bobs against my palm, her pupils dilating. “What?”
I tilt my head. “Give me a thank you for driving you.”
“What—”
“Kiss me,” I command. “I want you to initiate it. Show me what I taught you.”
She shakes her head lazily, rolling her bottom lip between her teeth. “We can’t, Kaden. Not anymore—”
“I didn’t fucking ask you if we could. I told you to do it.” I growl.
The breath skates from her lungs before she closes her eyes and nods. Her eyelids flutter open, and her gaze shifts to my lips before trailing back up. She pushes up on her toes, every movement hesitant and polite, until her lips touch mine. It’s soft and gentle, every ounce innocent as it is testing.
She tastes like coffee and sugar, and I hum in the back of my throat before moving our lips in tandem. She follows my lead, her eyes fluttering closed as her body goes pliant and she allows me to take. I don’t give her a moment of reprieve before swiping my tongue along the seam of her lips.
She draws back, lifting a hand to her mouth. Her eyes are clouded and distant as she clears her throat. “Can we get going? We won’t make it in time for check-in.”
I brush my thumb over her cheek before nipping at her swollen bottom lip. “You taste—“
“Kaden,“ she warns.”
“—like fucking candy.” I step aside, letting her ease down into the passenger seat before I close the door and stalk around the hood. As the engine rumbles to life, I’m savoring the flavor of my sister on my lips. It’s like pure fucking cocaine, a shock to my system that I need to survive this.
Listening to pop music for two hours straight is just as bad as scratching nails across a chalkboard. I hate the genre, but Melody loves it. She bobs her head to the bass, her bare feet propped up on the dashboard as she slaps her thighs to the rhythm.
“What did I say about your feet on the dash?” I ask.
She rolls her head along the rest until she’s staring at me. “Don’t crash, and it won’t be a problem.”
That fucking mouth of hers.
It has my fist tightening on the steering wheel as endless scenery blurs by.
“Keep talking like that, and I’ll make you choke, little sister.” I threaten.
Her mouth gapes, and the apples of her cheeks turn an adorable shade of red. “That’s fucked, Kaden. Don’t say things like that to me.”
She has no idea.
I started therapy a few months ago without telling anyone. At first, I didn’t care for the sterile, proper middle-aged woman who was assigned to me. She had a snooty air about her, like she knew she was better than everyone else, until I started talking. She got me to confess to my sister fantasy—the sick, horrible things I had harbored for Melody for years. How I wanted to touch her, tease her, and own her.