This story is a continuation of Reunited. This is the third part in the series.
Summary: Amy has to head back to LA to get her life sorted out; Jamie decides to tag along for the drive.
All characters are over the age of 18.
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Part 3
I couldn't stop. I was addicted to my brother, and he seemed to be just the same with me. I had shown up on his doorstep five days ago after finding my ex fucking another chic; Jamie was the only person I wanted to see, so I drove from San Francisco to Los Angeles to see him. My trip down led to not only making up with my brother, whom I hadn't seen for seven months but expanding our relationship well beyond that of a typical sibling relationship. And by that, I mean my brother bends me over the back of his couch and fucks me while we watch TV, or Jamie likes to take me on the kitchen counter after we've eaten. Still, my favourite is waking him up in the morning or the middle of the night but sucking his big fat cock until he explodes in my mouth.
The relationship was still new, and it was difficult for us to keep our hands to ourselves. Leaving Jamie's apartment had only happened a handful of times, but we made sure to return as quickly as possible. Yesterday had been particularly bad. We needed to few things from the grocery store, so we pulled on some clothes and headed out. I was so worked up by the time we got back to the apartment; we didn't even make it inside. Jamie fucked me up against his front door, where any of his neighbours could have walked outside and caught us. No one did, thankfully, as I didn't know if either of us would have been able to stop, but the idea of being caught had just made it hotter.
But today was different. The day after I had shown up at Jamie's, I called my boss to let her know the situation. I didn't tell her about the part where I had fucked my brother, obviously, but I did tell her that my ex was an ass and I just needed a breather. My time was up, and I needed to head back to San Francisco for my job. I was driving back later this afternoon and would be moving back in with my parents until I sorted everything out.
I had decided that I needed to be with Jamie. The revelation that I loved my brother as a lover on top of loving him as my brother made me want to be as close to him as possible. The plan was to either get a new job in LA or see if I could transfer. I worked at an art gallery in San Francisco as a curator. I knew the owner of the gallery had many all over the country, and there was one in LA. If I could get a transfer, it would make the move easier. The only other thing I had to deal with was packing up all my stuff that was still currently in the apartment I shared with my ex, Mark. The idea of having to face him again wasn't high on my list; I had even told him that I would let him know when I was coming, so I didn't have to see him. Still, he was the type of guy who would just make sure he was there anyway.
I wasn't leaving Jamie's until around one. The plan was to make it to the parents' house by dinner; I did have to go to work tomorrow. Jamie had changed his week around, pushing all clients back or having George, his assistant slash friend, do the job instead. He had made sure nothing would interrupt our time together.
The apartment smelt like curry. As a teen, Jamie found that he liked cooking, he watched videos online, even took a few cooking classes, and now made the best food I had ever tasted. Put mum's home cooking to shame. For my last day with him, Jamie was going a little overboard and had treated me like a queen. He woke me up at nine by eating me out before taking me at a slow pace. I enjoyed the rough sex, the quickies, but having him take his time and cover every inch of me with kisses and bites, thrusting at a pace that wasn't so slow that I was bored, but the perfect rhythm that kept me just on edge had been incredible. He had also drawn me a bubble bath and had me enjoy it while he made me breakfast. After breakfast, on the counter, we fucked again. Then we lounged around on the couch. Three episodes of Criminal Minds with the occasional orgasm made for a great morning.
I had made the joke that I would be pregnant by the end of the day if we didn't stop, but Jamie seemed to like the idea of my child growing inside of me. We both knew the risks that came about for a child born from our relationship like ours, and neither of us would take that chance, but it was still nice to think about.
It was almost twelve-thirty, and I was stretched out across the sofa. I only had on Jamie's t-shirt, nothing else. Panties seemed pointless because Jamie would just keep pulling them off, and the t-shirt was only there so that Jamie would focus on our lunch. Curry had been his idea, and I did love Indian food, so he had jumped up after our last romp and started cooking. It was delightful sitting with my feet hanging over the back of the couch, another episode of Criminal Minds on, and Jamie standing in the kitchen. He had pulled on some shorts but was moving about with his chest bare and a tea towel over his shoulder.
I smiled at him as he glanced up at me. "What's going on in that mind?" he asked.
I said, "I was just thinking how domesticated you are."
He snorted. "I suppose I could be your boy toy." He winked. "You earn enough that I could just stay at home while you worked all day, then a night make sure that you were thanked for your provisions by fucking you until you passed out."
Just him mentioning that he would take me in such a way got me going. I bit down on my lip and said, "Or maybe I could stay home. Send you pictures of myself naked in our bed, or maybe I'd finger myself and send you the video."
Jamie paused his actions and put down the knife. "You're a tease."
I giggled. "Takes one to know one."
He shook his head but couldn't keep his smile away. He went back to cooking, and I just watched.
I didn't want to go, not yet anyway. The last few days had been so blissful for us that I didn't want reality to come back and ruin my mood. Jamie made me happy, and the idea of being away from him for so long hurt. And it wasn't just the sex. Between our turns of pleasuring one another, we talked. There were silly conversations and serious ones, it was how we agreed on what to do next, but as we lay there in each other's arms, I realised that not a single one of the relationships I had ever had were as open and honest as I was with Jamie. I had believed that I had been happy with most of them until it ended, but no other man had made it feel so effortless.
I could be getting ahead of myself. It had been five days, and some would say it's our honeymoon phase, and it very well could be. But even before the sex, our relationship had always just flowed. We argued as every brother-sister did, but there was never a point that I could remember being mad at Jamie longer than a few hours. I couldn't stay away that long. All of this also made me notice that I had pushed down my feelings about being separated for seven months. I had been more depressed about it than I had ever understood, but I had squashed it under work and my relationship with Mark. I had built a dam that could have broken at any time, and it did. Just instead of being alone, Jamie was right beside me.
On our third night, we were curled up in bed. I snuggled in, my head against his chest, and the emotions just took over. I cried and cried, and all Jamie did was hold me. My body was wracked with grief, and it all just came out. When I managed to pull myself together, Jamie just continued to hold me, told me he loved me and that no one would ever keep us apart again. And I believed him.
Jamie finished the food and brought me over a bowl. I sat up, and Jamie pulled my legs over his lap. I smiled as his hand rubbed over my thighs before resting his arm on top while he ate. We enjoyed the food, and I tried to focus on the show. The food was terrific, and after we both finished, Jamie started rubbing my feet. Every action just made him better and better.
My phone sat on the coffee table and started to ring. I reached for it and frowned when Mark's name flashed. I groaned.
Jamie asked, "What's wrong?"
"It's Mark." I frowned at the phone.
"He has some nerve," mumbled Jamie, his eyes dropping down to focus on my feet.
I paused and figured I might as well get it over with; there was only so long that I could ignore him. I answered the phone and put it on speakerphone. "What do you want, Mark?" I said.
"Well, that's one way to answer the phone," he said.
I glared at my phone, wishing I could throw something at him. "Yeah, well, I don't particularly like answering the phone when it's cheating assholes on the other line."
Mark didn't respond instantly. I heard him shift on the other line before he sighed.
"What do you want?" I snapped.
"For you to come and get your crap," he snapped back.