Wanting 28

Author's Note:

This is a story about power, desire, family tensions, and primal urges. It's a story about wanting and trying not to want. A strong thread of reluctance runs through the narrative. The sex is sensual, but be aware — if reluctance isn't your thing, this story probably won't be, either.

Summary:

When Andie visits her wealthy relatives the summer after college, she must deal with her uneasy attraction to her cousin during a crossroads in her life.

This is an entry for the Literotica 2016 Summer Lovin' Contest.

Many thanks to OliviaM, PikovayaDama, Rachel, and Christine for their insights as beta readers.

Enjoy.

*******

June sunset flamed over tall oaks, arching shadows across my relatives' rolling backyard. But "yard" didn't begin to describe the stretches of land wrapping my aunt and uncle's house: the tennis courts, the pool, the terraced gardens, the golf range, the deep-rooted trees thickening to dark woods, and the broad patio lit with swaying glass lanterns.

Staff overran the patio: caterers, servers, bartenders and musicians setting up. My Aunt Rose hustled from end to end, heels clicking on the paving stones, giving orders.

Fanning my flushed face and trying to look like I belonged here, I eyed Rose's shimmering cascade of champagne-colored hair, her lean calves flashing across the patio, her glossy lips and long lashes.

As a kid, I'd thought Aunt Rose was the most beautiful woman in the world. On family visits, I'd hovered near her, ooh-ing and ah-ing over her gold and diamond jewelry. I'd made the mistake of telling my mom, who'd made sure I knew — in more detail than a 7-year-old needed — that every bit of her sister was fake. But fifteen years later, I still thought she was gorgeous. I was still a little in awe.

"Andrea." My aunt stopped in front of me, mid-bustle. I shifted, balancing on my wedge heels. Without them, I was 5'2" on a good day. "Lovely dress, dear. It more or less works for tonight. Though you really should have had Marisol take a look. The hem is wrinkled. We'll plan a shopping trip for later this week."

"Thanks, Aunt Rose." I bent to pick up a flower that had fallen out of an arrangement. The staff had already ordered me not to help. But standing still while people rushed around felt more awkward than I could handle. "It's really okay."

My cousin Will lounged against one of the tables, sipping a mojito. A year younger than me, Will was going into his senior year of college: Ivy-wrapped, the son of my uncle's legacy. Curious green eyes took in my white eyelet dress, traveling over the tiny straps that bared my shoulders, the scoop neck showing a generous sprinkle of freckles, the tight bodice hugging my small breasts and slim waist before it flared out to a full skirt. Maybe he had a problem with the hem, too.

I blinked at him, annoyed by his frank stare. Crossing my arms over my breasts, I stared right back at his high cheekbones, square jaw, and full lips. His brown hair waved around his ears. His green eyes unsettled me. His body was one lithe line. I'd remembered Will being pretty when we were kids. Since then, he'd gone from pretty boy to beautiful man, in a way that was never a good idea.

His clear gaze moved up to my face. All I saw was amusement. Not a trace of embarrassment that I'd caught him checking me out — in front of his mom. Sweat pooled under my arms. I'd worn my hair down tonight, and my neck felt damp under the long ginger waves. When Will's perfect teeth flashed at me, the sweat turned to prickles.

"Thursday afternoon?" Aunt Rose was saying. "I'll have Tony drive me into the city."

"Thanks." I'd constantly been saying thank you for the past week, ever since I'd arrived at my relatives' house for the summer. "I work til 5 at least, sometimes later since I'm just starting, and it's very nice of you but really not necessary—"

"Just take some time off. And I have to disagree with you, Andrea." Her gaze swept my cotton dress and fringed sandals. "I'd say it is necessary."

"Andie said no, Mom," Will broke in. His voice was a casual command. "Let her be."

Rose shrugged her slim shoulders. "Sara, can we take care of this table over here?" She turned away, giving orders to the caterer.

Will held up his empty glass and crooked an eyebrow at a uniformed girl hurrying by. It wasn't a finger snap, but it felt like one. Especially when I saw how quickly she took that glass out of his hands.

"Andie, you want a drink?" I looked up and met Will's white smile. He'd come over next to me. A crisp shirt sleeve brushed my bare arm as he gestured toward the well-stocked bar. I shook my head, dizzy now.

"No. But thanks," I murmured. My face was hot. "For before. I really don't need new clothes. Especially ones your mom picks out." Will raised dark eyebrows. His silence pushed me to talk. "I mean, she has good taste. She always looks amazing. I just don't need to look like her. But...is the dress okay?"

A slow grin spread over his face. When he touched my waist, my breath caught. His hand paused on my hip, then smoothed my long hair back from my face. Fingers slipped under my thin cotton straps and centered them on my shoulders, grazing my bare skin. Quick hands brushed down the eyelet skirt. He briefly stroked my cheek.

"You look nice."

"Thanks," I managed again. A warm blush seeped down my chest. I was suddenly, painfully aware of my swollen nipples, hard and pressing against the snug bodice. I hadn't worn a bra.

Right then, the uniformed girl hurried up with a fresh drink and an enticing smile for Will. I turned away to fix a torn streamer, as the first tide of guests surged into the garden.

Aunt Rose reappeared and took my fingers in a grip of delicate steel. Bending my wrist in the air, she led me from one person to another, gushing with introductions:

"This is my niece Andrea...just graduated college with honors...working in publishing this summer...we're so happy to have her with us for a few months."

The day after graduation, I'd picked up the phone and heard my aunt's smooth voice on the other end.

Stunned

barely described my reaction. She'd heard the "unfortunate" news from my mother. So very sorry for all of us, and so surprised. Divorce took such a toll. Surely my parents had made every effort. And did I have plans? A job all lined up? Not yet? Of course, it could be so challenging if you didn't have the right connections. She and Uncle Richard wanted to help. Will, too. Would I come for the summer? No, no trouble at all. They had plenty of room. And it would be so nice to have the cousins together.

24 hours later, I'd had a summer job in the city, a train ticket, and a packed bag ready to go in three weeks.

A sharp tug on my hand — Aunt Rose — pulled my attention back to the garden party. The crowd was thickening, getting louder, as the patio overflowed with friends of my aunt and uncle, friends of Will. The garden party split very obviously into two generations, and I was mingling with the older one. I smiled politely, shook hands, made small talk, and nodded when Aunt Rose whispered in my ear that this or that person was important and I should remember them.

"So you're in publishing," one important person said. I'd already forgotten his name. "Not an easy job to get."

"For the summer."

Because my uncle pulled strings. "

I'm hoping it will bring more opportunities."

"Do you visit your relatives often?"

"We try."

It's been seven years. And that last visit ended in a fight.

"How generous of your aunt and uncle to host you for the summer. You must be very close."

"Yes, I'm very grateful."

And I still don't know why they decided to talk to me.

When Aunt Rose had said "garden party," I'd expected a string quartet and fine china. But this was loud music and free-flowing cocktails. More and more people crowded under the swinging lanterns, laughing and trading stories like they'd known each other forever. They probably had. When Rose let go of my hand to laugh gaily at a comment by one of the important people, I begged off to get a drink and threaded towards the cocktail bar.

Hemmed in on all sides, I watched Will, surrounded by people. Beautiful girls, vying for his attention. He smiled at them all, but he didn't return the light touches, the giddy side-hugs.

Uncle Richard came up next to him, dropping a heavy hand on his son's shoulder and rubbing the muscle by his neck. My uncle was broad and solid, beefy to Will's leanness. Looking from him to my aunt, a tiny glittering pinpoint flashing through the crowd, I wondered where Will's tall grace had come from.

A couple of the girls beamed at Richard, flirting. He chucked them under the chin and they tossed back thick shiny hair, obviously working for his attention. Will leaned close to say something to his father, and both men laughed. But from where I stood, Will and Richard talked past each other, not to each other.

Relieved to be left alone, I tried a shrimp cocktail from a passing server, the girl who'd scurried to fetch Will a drink. Her eyes still followed him. The shrimp was salty on my tongue, the music getting louder in my ears.

That seven-years-ago visit had been at my family's house. My mom had cleaned all day, cursing and arguing with my dad. I'd helped, turning up the radio to drown out the sound of

maybe you could ask, just ASK your sister to help us out financially with...

Aunt Rose and Uncle Richard had brought two bottles of very expensive wine, a driver who stayed in the car, and 14-year-old Will. Ten minutes into dinner, as soon as the arguments started about my grandfather's messy estate, Will had pushed back his chair and left the room. Just like that.

I'd found him in the backyard, sitting on the fence, smoking and looking at his phone. His clothes were perfectly pressed.

"Hey, cousin." He gave me a slow smile. "Don't you think it's funny how much our parents hate each other?"

"No." I cleared my throat. "I don't. And you don't either. Otherwise you'd be inside, watching, so you could laugh."

Will focused those unnerving green eyes on me. Then he patted the fence next to him. For a second, I'd stood still. Then I'd shaken my head and hurried inside.

"Hello, sweetheart." A handsome face blocked my view of the garden party, interrupting my thoughts. Handsome, unfamiliar, and my age. I blinked at his broad smile, my fingers closing around the frosty glass he handed me. Another boy flanked my other side, edging me in with his navy blazer-clad shoulder. "You wanted this, right? Gin and tonic. I'm Spencer."

I'd never loved G & Ts. I'd been eyeing the white wine flowing freely at the bar. But caught off-guard, I took a sip. Chilled liquid bit my tongue. "I'm Andrea."

"Look at that red hair." Spencer stroked my long russet waves, petting them down to my waist. My skin prickled. I was too crowded by his friend to pull away, too off-balance from Will's touches earlier to want to. "Natural?"

"Spencer, that is not how you greet a lady." The other guy, whose name had disappeared in the laughter bubbling through the patio, put a reassuring hand on my back. "Who are you? We haven't seen you around."

"I'm Rose and Richard's niece. Will's cousin."

"Oh." Spencer's fingers stayed in my hair, but he made more space between us. The other guy leaned closer.

"Oh yeah. Will said his cousin was coming this summer. He didn't say you were a beautiful woman." His bulky body oozed overconfidence.

I cleared my throat. "Probably because I'm his cousin. And we hadn't seen each other in 7 years."

Spencer's eyes suddenly flicked to the side. Casually, he let my hair go, like he'd remembered something he had to do. Following his gaze, I saw Will watching the three of us intently.

The other guy was busy talking about all the boating around here over the summer, squeezing my waist like his hand had every right to be there. Spencer coughed and jerked his head in Will's direction. His friend noticed and dropped his hand.

"I'm going to get some food," I said quickly.

"Over here—" Spencer began, but a group swarmed towards us: two girls and a guy, laughing over some joke and ignoring me. I backed away.

It was easy to weave to the edge of the patio, through everyone having the time of their lives. There, I eyed Will, still at the center of things. That white smile was back, dazzling everyone who turned his way, but when the contact dropped, Will looked bored. How many of these parties had he been to, charming all the same people?

Green eyes suddenly locked on mine. I'd been staring. I was still staring. And Will wasn't looking away.

Turning, I knocked back the rest of my drink, trying to do something about my dry throat. The burn of the gin flamed my face and went all the way down my body. I'd had enough garden party. Leaving my empty glass on a table, I slipped off the patio into darkness.

Fresh-mown grass sank under my high-heeled sandals. Walking quickly, I found a quiet patch on the edge of the woods.

For the first time this week, I felt at home. Stately trees rustled overhead. A creek gurgled nearby. Breathing in the fresh scent of sweet grass, I wiped beads of sweat off my forehead, as laughter and clinking glasses sparkled across the lawn.

Spencer and his friend had been too pretty, too perfect-looking, too forward and slimy, but their hands on me had sent waves of embarrassed excitement over my skin. My breasts felt heavy and hot, confined in my white dress. My nipples still throbbed from reacting to Will's light touches before the party.

A hand on my back made me jump.

"Looking for something?"

Will stood close to me, in the shadow of an oak. A flush spread over my cheeks.

"A little peace and quiet."

"You don't like parties? This one's tame." His hand moved over my coiled muscles, massaging. "But you're tense."

"It's really okay."

"No, it isn't." He expertly rubbed further and further down my back. When he found my hip and squeezed, I stifled a gasp. "Relax, Andie. Were Spence and Pax bothering you?"

"Not for long." I tried to catch my breath. "Fortunately."

His smile gleamed. Behind us, a frog croaked. Fireflies lit the air in tiny bursts. "Aren't you here for an experience? Something you can't get at home?"

Will's exploring touch felt intimate. Too intimate. I should tell him to stop. I should go back to the party, or better yet, to the stack of books on my nightstand. But as he kneaded my petite waist and hips, tingling warmth spread over my skin and concentrated in my crotch.

"I'm here because your parents invited me," I muttered.

"Mm," was all Will said. One hand cupped my chin. Warm lips met mine.

"Will!" I gasped into his mouth. He tasted like mint and lime. He pulled me closer, one arm snaking around my back. His tongue — hot, wet, thick — parted my lips. "Will—" I protested, stunned, before he kissed me again.

"Mmm, little cousin." His fingers were wrapped in my hair. His other hand trailed down to toy with the scoop neck of my eyelet dress. My hands found his shoulders, confused and squeezing the swells of muscle. "You were worried about what to wear." One finger slipped inside the cotton neckline to tease my cleavage. I grabbed his hand. "Worried you wouldn't fit in."

"I'll never fit in here. It's fine. I don't want to." My voice ended on another gasp as Will stroked my breast. His hand easily twisted free of mine. His fingers were so warm — and so intrusive, roaming over the soft flesh. "Will, you have to stop."

"No." His fingers kept exploring the curve of my breast. Shameful pleasure washed over my body.

"Please," I begged.

"Let's see..." He paused as if thinking. "No."

A finger tilted up my chin. His mouth closed over mine. I tried to bite back a moan and nipped his lower lip instead. Our tongues kept brushing. Will grunted softly, pressing his firm leanness against my body.

Slowly but surely, I was being backed against one of the stately old trees, Will's hand tangling in my long hair. A warm palm cupped my breast, covering it completely. I gripped his shoulders and pulled on his tie. Bark, rough and solid, pressed against my bare back.

"What are you doing?" I panted.

Will flashed a smile, white in the darkness. "Feeling you up."

A thumb found my nipple, tender and pointing through the cotton eyelet. I jerked against his sudden pinch, my hands sliding over rolled-up shirtsleeves and down bare forearms. Will's skin was warm and a little sticky from the night air, his muscles wiry. Need radiated out from his touch on my breast. My panties were damp.

"Stop," I breathed into his mouth.

"Cute," he muttered, his gaze on my cleavage and his large hand fondling my small breast. "Such a hard little nipple, as soon as I touched you."

"Will!" Shouts, distant shouts from the circle of lanterns. "Hey man, where are you? We need you!"

Relief flooded my body. "They need you," I whispered.

"They always do." He stepped back and tucked my hair behind my ears. Shivers tightened my skin at his casual touches. "Let's go."

A warm hand wrapped around mine, leading me back to the party. But when we entered the pool of light, Will was swallowed up by the crowd, and I slipped back to the shadows.

*******

The next morning, sunshine teased my eyes open. My head throbbed, buried in down pillows. Combed cotton sheets brushed my legs.

It took a minute to remember where I was. My summer bedroom, more spacious and airy than any brick dorm, campus apartment, or my cozy childhood room, still felt unfamiliar. My body, naked against the sheets, felt unfamiliar. I ran my hands over freckled skin, soft curves asking to be squeezed, pink nipples hard against my palms.

I'd rolled out of bed earlier this morning, shaken from scattered dreams by shouts and laughter outside. Half the party had spent the night on the lawn. The younger half, to be exact. Sleek bodies stretched and stood on the rolling grass, brushing off their bright clothes, shaking out blankets and buttoning themselves up. I'd spotted Spence and Pax strolling out of the rustling woods with a girl between them, crooked ties dangling from their necks, and smug expressions. No sign of Will.

Sitting up in bed now, I pushed damp copper waves of hair off my shoulders. My lips and breasts buzzed uncomfortably, remembering hot kisses, insistent hands, that

Mmm, little cousin.

He'd been drinking last night. There wasn't any more to it; there couldn't be. I'd fended off drunk guys before, though none of them had gone that far. None of them had been my cousin. And none of them had left my body flushed and aching.

The silent house reassured me. The clock on my dresser pointed to eleven. My aunt and uncle lived in a house full of people — maids, a chef, gardeners, drivers and security — but Aunt Rose had informed me that Sunday was the house staff's day off, and the peaceful quiet told me my relatives were out. I could walk barefoot to the kitchen in my ancient nightshirt, half-awake and yawning, and drink all the coffee in the world while I flipped through the paper and talked to no one.

Padding into the kitchen, I stopped suddenly. A lone male leaned back in a kitchen chair. Wet dark hair curled around his ears. Unlike me, Will was fully dressed in a lavender polo shirt girls only wished they looked so pretty in, khakis, a brown leather belt, and shoes to match. I caught myself staring at sleek male muscles, bare tanned arms, a heavy watch that glinted under the blown-glass hanging lamps.

And he was the last person who needed to see my sweaty tumble of red hair, the oversized t-shirt I'd loved long enough to wear holes in, and my bare legs. One look at me, and he'd know all I had on underneath was a pair of skimpy panties.