Yearn For Stepsister

Her expression falls a little, but she shrugs it off quickly. “You don’t have to—”

“I mean, I want to look at you—just not in that way,” I add before releasing her wrists. “I like what I see too much. You’re too tempting not to want to break the rules for.”

She stares up at me through her lashes and smiles. “You were my first kiss.”

I blink, confused. “Your first?”

“Well not my first, but my first REAL good kiss. No guy has ever kissed me until I went dizzy and my toes curled.”

I stare down at her lips and instantly imagine her feeling dizzy from our kiss. And then I picture her toes curling and her knees wobbly from the force of her desire. Fuck. The image goes right to my groin, and I swallow hard. “You see what I mean? We shouldn’t discuss things beyond the topic of brother and sister stuff,” I say firmly. But then, unable to resist the urge, I reach over and tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. “But since you brought it up, I need to know why.”

“After my dad died, my mom was