7 comments/ 33469 views/ 24 favorites Argos: The Beginning By: InArgos NOTE TO READER: Argos is aimed at readers who like dramas with a realistic touch of erotica when appropriate. This first installment of Argos is heavy on build-up. Before you read, please note that Argos is about love, not excessive sex. Characters are 18 years or older. ***** Prologue - The Beginning "Your friends are not my friends." Those harsh words were medicine for my insecurity towards men who weren't me. I saw them as nothing but weapons targetting the person I kept close to my heart. My hatred towards them was justified because it was an instinct I couldn't control. I was eighteen years old and I had never taken drugs in my life. I never planned to because I would always need something to reassure me that I was not what my thoughts portrayed me as when the person I cared about was out of my sight. Out of sight, out of mind? If that saying were true, I would have lost my mind by now. Maybe I already had. - Chapter 1 - Bitter Dreams "You kids don't stay up too late," Mom uttered as she waved her hand while walking towards the master bedroom. "We're not kids anymore, Mom," my little sister, Tracey, sitting a cushion away from me, scolded Mom. Although law legally made us adults at age eighteen, we were still viewed as teenagers in society. You couldn't spell eighteen without teen, of course. But, I was okay with being a kid so long as I had a fridge that was never empty and a bed that was always warm. "You'll always be my little kids," Mom's final words were before she closed her bedroom door. Right on cue, Tracey shifted over a cushion, linked her right arm around my left, and snuggled beside me. Tracey and I were always close, and more so when we started high school. From eating together in the cafeteria to stopping by at the local fast food restaurant on our way home, we were never embarrassed; except for around our parents. Tracey fidgeted around on the couch before bringing her knees to her chest and sighing as I stroked her straight, long, brown-oak hair. I grabbed the remote from the armrest opposite of her, and pointed it towards the television. "No," she yawned. I shook my head before pressing five and then one on the remote. "We saw that episode already." I blinked repeatedly before pressing forward button. "The food channel, really, bro?" I playfully shook her, erupting laughter before I handed her the remote. "Why don't you choose?" Tracey giggled and took the remote from my hand. After several moments of watching someone stuffing a pulled pork sandwich in their mouth, I realized Tracey hadn't changed the channel, so I looked down at her. She was staring blankly at the remote as if it were foreign to her. "Everything okay, Trace?" I asked worriedly as she continued to stare at the remote. "Yeah, I," she shook her head and handed me the remote, "I haven't told them yet." "Told them what?" I inquired, laying the remote on the coffee table in front of us, and returning eye-contact. "About Andrew," she answered, rubbing her head against my shoulder, her eyes no longer on me but on the television. There was that name I was hoping to avoid tonight. I just didn't get it. There were four-hundred girls in our high school, yet the punk picked my sister to flirt with. I always loved how Tracey only saw the best in people, but this time, I hated it. I hated him. I knew what she was to him: a toy to be played with and then tossed aside for the next "best" thing. If you looked closely at his palms, you'd see at least ten other phone numbers he tried washing out but gave up because he was too lazy and too careless. There were two ways of dealing with this: I could tell her who he was and she would hate me for it, or I could sit on the sidelines until he dropped her onto the curb like trash and then hit my head against the wall until it bled. The double-edged sword cut both ways, and I knew that. I grabbed the remote from the table. "Lets check the TV guide, there must be something good on," I pondered out loud. "Kenny?" Tracey shook my arm. "Look, Trace, I really don't want to talk about him," I said flatly with a hint of false merriness, hoping she would drop the subject. As much as I didn't want to talk about him, I did. He was a thorn in my backside, and I felt it every time I sat down. The more she brought him up, the tighter my grip was when I thought about my hands around his neck. He died twenty-four times already, and I didn't feel bad about it. "What about tomorrow?" she bitterly retorted, and slowly unraveled her right arm from my left as she looked at me, "I don't get it, Kenny. I finally find someone who loves me as much as Angie loves you and you don't even care?" There was a big difference between my two week relationship with Angie and her relationship with Andrew: Angie actually loved me. I knew that if I looked behind my shoulder after she kissed me goodbye, I wouldn't see her flirting with another man. Tracey either ignored him, or the scumbag really wanted to get inside her pants. MY little sister's pants. "Well... I don't care about him, I care about you," I replied amiably in an attempt to ease the hostility. Tracey crossed her arms and shook her head. "I love him," she responded somewhat monotonously and dubiously. Her words drove into my heart like a train going at full speed, and I clenched my fist in response as the image of Andrew holding Tracey's hand etched into my mind. "My god, Tracey," I hysterically laughed to myself at a volume that would only be heard from within the room. "Yeah, my god," she mocked in a coarse voice. As frustrated as I was, I didn't like seeing tears in her dark brown eyes. The last time she cried in sadness because of me was when I ripped the heads off one of her barbie dolls when we were nine. The crying went on for minutes as she watched me desperately trying to pop it's head back in. I remembered looking up at her each time I failed to, feeling like the world was going to end for me until eventually, I did it. "What do you want me to do, Trace?" I said calmly, taking her hand, wet with the tears I felt guilty for, "Stop caring? Because I think that's the only way I'd be able to stand him." "Maybe you should," she said, a tearing rolling down her right eye as she pushed herself further away from me, letting loose my hand. Instinctively, I brought my hand to her face, hoping to wipe the tear, but she whipped it aside. "What does that mean?" I asked with hurt in my voice as I looked at my hand, and then back at Tracey. She shot up from the couch. If I didn't already know she was mad, the stomps as she made her way from the living room, through the kitchen, to her bedroom, made it evident. I turned back to the television and pressed the power button on the remote. "Damn it." - Chapter 2 - Sunny Side Down It was easier to place the blame on Andrew. If he had never set his eyes on my little sister, she wouldn't be mad at me, and I would've gotten more than five hours of sleep last night. I listened as Dad said goodbye to Mom and leave for work before swinging my legs off the bed. Swiftly, I grabbed a pair of fresh clothes, walked to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and shaved before jumping into the shower. After the shower, I dressed into my hoodie and jeans, ruffled my short hair, and headed for the kitchen. "Trying to impress Angie, honey?" Mom asked as she grabbed her work bag. I looked down at my clothing and responded, "It's just a hoodie and jeans, Mom..." "Mhm, you also shaved. If only your father did - What's wrong honey? You look sad! Did you and Angie have a fight!" she asked with motherly concern, quickly bringing her hand to my cheek as I heard Tracey's bare feet slapping against the tiles of the kitchen floor behind me. "What?" I shook my head, responding in fake confidence, "No! I'm just behind on a school project. My partner isn't doing his side of the research." "Please tell me it isn't that friend of yours, Tom," she said and walked to the front door, "Anyway, I'll see you kids later. Love you!" The awkward feeling settled in as the front door closed, and more so when I heard the lock. I didn't want to turn around, but I didn't want to make my uneasiness evident. Instead, I walked passed Tracey who was drinking a glass of milk, and opened the refrigerator to pull out a carton of orange juice. I felt her eyes on the back of my head as I pryed open the carton. "I'm walking with Marianne to school," she replied casually, putting her glass in the sink. She hated walking. The last time we went hiking with the family at the local park, I had to piggyback her back to the car because her ankles were sore. No, we always drove together in my coupe to school. I was stupid to think she'd at least give me the silent treatment or look out the window for most of the ride. But, that was what made her different from everyone else. Her emotions wouldn't die off over night; not like mine. Tracey was someone you took seriously, and I always looked up to her in that regard. Now, I would be looking down, but not of her. "Are you so mad at me that you'd risk being late for class?" I innocently asked as I put the carton of orange juice back into the fridge, and walked over to the front door to grab the car keys from the key rack "At least she cares about be enough to talk about Andrew," she retorted, her voice bitter, carving in stone the mood I would have for the rest of the day. "Damn it, Tracey, I only got five hours of sleep last night because I couldn't stop thinking about how I made you cry!" I responded bitterly before cooling down, "Does that sound like I don't care?" Her face remained stern as she looked at with crossed arms. "Look, Trace, I can't leave without knowing we're okay," I said, left hand on the door knob. "Why do you care?" she repeated, her face and tone not changing it's expression. I sighed as I opened the front door. "You win, Trace. I don't care." - Chapter 3 - My Hand Wasn't Up "She rejected me right in front of those niners!" my best friend, Tom, whined as we maneuvered our way through the crowded hallway of Westfield High School towards our history class. "Good for you," I responded coldly. "I hope you aren't like that, tonight," Tom rolled his eyes, looking away from me, as he braced his back and right foot against the white, concrete wall. "Tonight?" I confusedly looked at him. He dropped his leg back down and turned to look at me, returning the confusion. "Amy's party?" I had completely forgotten about the party at eight. Dancing half drunk was the last thing I wanted to do with the weight of knowing Tracey hated me constantly bringing me down. Some would think this was a great way to get your mind off things, but I wanted to get on them, and fix them. "Right, I forgot," I dumbfoundedly said as I scratched the back of my head. "Well, at least you've got someone to take," he sighed again, nodding at the classroom window. I looked through the window cluelessly before smiling back at Angie who mouthed the words, "Hey, baby," at me. "Any luck you'll hang out with me instead of Angie tonight?" Tom laughed hopelessly, looking at the set of lockers parallel to the classroom. "I'm sure you'll find someone at the party," I replied just as the bell rung, indicating class started in three minutes. "I'll take that as a no," he said, walking against the twelvers, into the room, as they rushed out like a swarm of bees from their hive. "Hey, baby!" Angie shrieked in joy as she wrapped her arms around me, planting a kiss on my lips, "I can't wait for Amy's party!" Angie. Blond-haired, pink-skinned and red, unchapped lips. I've been told I was the luckiest guy in Westfield to have her. As shallow and cruel as it sounded, I didn't know if I liked her because of her looks, or her personality. She asked me out two weeks ago because she said I was kind, and I had pretty eyes. I guessed that meant she loved me, and that was enough for me to say yes. "What's wrong, Kenny? You look sad," she spoke alarmedly, kissing my cheeks repeatedly which warranted a few looks from other students walking by. Embarrassed, I faked a laughed, and looked past them at the lockers before hugging Angie. "Everything's fine, Ang, I'll see you in the caf." She quickly hugged me again before walking off. Normally, this was where I'd get mad at anyone who noticed how tight her shorts were, but frankly, I didn't care. I walked into the class of fifteen, and took my seat at the very back. The very back was meant for the mischievous group of students who never did any work. They were usually the girls who wore small shirts that showed their navals, and shorts so short that they ended right before the curve of their asses formed. I was glad Tracey hadn't become one of them, and it wasn't just because our parents wouldn't have allowed it. She was smart; a straight A student, just like me, but maybe just a tiny bit better. We wouldn't be doing our homework together, today. My eyes quickly shot up at the front the class when I heard my name. "Kenneth, could you repeat to the class what I just said?" Mrs. Heffner asked me, her eyes knowing full well I hadn't been listening. I wanted to put my head down knowing all fifteen pairs of eyes were on me. "I wasn't paying attention," I shamefully answered. "Then start, Mr. Astheras. And that goes for the rest of you," Mrs. Heffner chastised, "How do any of you expect to pass my class if you don't listen? Unless of course you like me that much!" "I like you, Misses H," said a boy from the other side of the classroom. "Flattery won't boost your mark, Mark," she smiled. The whole class except for me laughed. The hour hand wasn't going to hit eleven if I kept staring at it. - Chapter 4 - The Bill And Nothing More The cafeteria had gotten louder ever since the school board decided on one lunch time for every grade. The table at the very back, no longer empty, was now populated with chatty niners. There was a line that seperated different graders from sitting at the same table, but I never questioned the invisible rulebook that Westfield followed. You either conformed, or you spent your free time doing homework in the library, alone. "I heard Alan's bringing lots of rum," Angie breathed into my ear. I smiled at Angie, not feeling very responsive. "We're so gonna get wasted, baby," she laughed, and threw a french fry into her mouth, "You sure me and Tracey won't fit? It would look a lotter better if my boyfriend picked me up.." "You know how little room there is, Ang," I regretfully answered, and she frowned. Out of nowhere, a familiar voice made me cringe. "Have no fear, bro, Trace'll be ridin' with me." One week together and he'd already taken my nickname for her. What was next, my spleen? I faked a smile, for the sake of having manners, as I looked up at Andrew, the five foot ten prick who was dating my little sister. Relief washed over me as I leaned my head to the side and smiled legitimately at Tracey who stood next to him. She returned eye-contact and I watched as her pink lips started to form a smile, but in flash, disappeared. It was nice to see she had forgotten she was angry at me for that whole two seconds. Andrew sat down across from me, setting his tray on the table, and Tracey settled across from Angie. "You lovebirds excited for tonight?" Angie asked both of them. Andrew draped his arm around my sister, making her squirm and look away, before smiling at Angie, "Totally. My older brother's got the motherload of vodka hidden in the cellar." I clenched my fists beneath the table. I wondered; what would stop me from grabbing him by the collar, and pulling him across the table? Was being hated by my sister more painful than seeing him make any kind of contact with her? He didn't deserve the satisfaction of looking at Tracey and saying, "Yeah, that's my girlfriend over there," nobody did. I continued to stare at his hand that hung down comfortably on my sister's left shoulder. "Bro, wanna share half of that with me?" Andrew said, staring at the brownie in my tray. "I don't like sharing," I responded callously, my fists tightening so much that it could have bled at any moment. Andrew laughed and stuffed a chicken nugget in his mouth. "I'll remember that, man." Angie giggled, breaking the tension, and grabbed the brownie off my tray. "He'll share with me," she said, her words distorted with the brownie in her mouth. My eyes went over to Tracey, who kept nudging the same french fry with her index finger. "What's up, babe, not hungry?" Andrew asked Tracey. "Not really," she smiled at him and then at Angie. "Come on, eat up, the fries aren't half bad," he said, rubbing her shoulder with the hand that hung down her shoulder. "She said she's not hungry," I spoke in a deep, ominous voice with my hand halfway across the table, balled in a fist. The table suddenly got quiet and I felt too angry to be embarrassed, until Tracey spoke. "I'm gonna use the bathroom," she said, and stood from her chair. "Lunch is almost up anyway," Angie followed suit, grabbing my arm as she stood up, "Lets go, baby." That punk! I wasn't the bad guy, he was, yet, I still felt bad. He was a leech and sooner or later, I'd just be a pile of bones. Angie did most of the work as she pulled me out of the cafeteria like a child being pulled out of a toy store. My eyes were on the back of Tracey's head the whole time until she disappeared behind the door of the women's restroom. Eventually, we stopped in a secluded staircase that smelled like cigarettes. "What was that, Kenny?" Angie asked me, her arms around my waist, and my back against the wall. "You didn't hear his tone when he talked to my sister?" I asked with disbelief and innocence. "No, I didn't, and I would really like it if, for just this once, you'd stop talking about her," she pleaded. "She's my best friend, I was just looking out for her," I said with sorrow, in defeat. "No, Kenny, she's your sister. I'm your best friend," she insisted, her lips sealed with mine, and arms around my neck. I felt her hand tug at my crotch, and I responded, "Not a good idea!" "Tonight, then," she moaned. - Chapter 5 - The False Signal Her phone was off, I was sure. I waited ten minutes in my coupe, cooling down as the air conditioner blasted my face. Tracey wasn't coming. She was probably halfway to our house with Marianne. Growing tired of staring at glare on the hood, I pressed down on the brakes and shifted the car into drive before pulling out of the parking spot, not shy of a few looks from girls who waited for their parents to pick them up as I passed the main doors. On the way home, I almost turned onto the street where Tracey and I's favorite fast food restaurant was. Today, I wouldn't be playfully laughing at Tracey as she fanned her tongue at the extra hot chicken wing she could never finish without tearing up. There was still twenty dollars on that bet; and for once, I wouldn't have mind losing it. Eventually, I had finally made it home and coincidentally, Tracey and Marianne were talking on the porch as I pulled into the driveway. "Hey, girls," I smiled at both of them as I shut the car door before walking up the couple steps to the porch. Marianne tossed me a rude look and an empty hello while Tracey chose to ignore me, and hugged her goodbye. I doubted the rude look was because I refused to go out with my sister's friend. "I can give you a ride home, Mari, if you want," I politely asked. She smiled and responded, "No thanks. I'll see you at the party, Tracey." I followed Tracey inside the house and closed the door behind me before putting my hand on her right shoulder, hoping to get a word in before she confined herself to her room. Argos: The Beginning She shrugged my hand off, turned to face me, and spoke, "Why did you do it?" "Do what?" I innocently asked. "The caf!" she argued, "He thought you were going to hit him!" "I didn't like the way he talked to you. I -" "I, nothing! I should have told him the truth: my own brother doesn't want me to be happy!" she argued. "Trace, you know that's true!" "I don't care anymore, Kenny. He's my boyfriend and I don't want you hurting him!" she exclaimed. "Would you hate me if I did," I said, neither a question or statement. "Are you seriously asking me that?" she incredulously responded before turning around to march towards her room. "I saw the way you acted when he put his arm around you," I called at her. She turned around and responded, "What act? You don't know what you're talking about." She started to turn around again before I blurted, "He doesn't deserve you, you know." "Oh, really? Then who 'do' I deserve?" she responded both aggressively and sourly, her arms and hands motioning a couple seconds in front of me for a response back. "I don't know." Tracey shook her head and inarticulately grunted before slamming her bedroom door shut. - Chapter 6 - Two Honks, Too Late It was half past seven before I finished buttoning my polo shirt as I stood in front of Tracey's bedroom door. I brought my fist to the door and paused for five seconds before knocking two times. "Who is it?" Tracey answered. "It's me," I sighed, knowing I was the last voice she'd want to hear. "What do you want, Kenny. I'm changing," she answered with annoyance in her tone. "Look, Trace, I'm sorry," I said incredulously, "I'm sorry for last night, I'm sorry for today, and I'm sorry for every day of the week," I replied with nothing but solemn in my voice before sighing again, "I'm too protective of you. I shouldn't be. I just want to know if I'll ever be able to hang out with my best friend again." Tracey's sigh was evident before the door swung open. The smell of her perfume filled my nostrils as she stood in front of me with her right hand on the door knob. I couldn't ever be embarrassed to call Tracey, family. Even though her freshly straightened hair looked beautiful as it shined under the dim light of her room and the way her white shorts contrasted with her pink t-shirt made my jaw drop, my heart would melt regardless of her looks. She was my little sister but damn it, she was beautiful, even when angry. My eyes never left Tracey's body the whole time, and my mouth never closed. Tracey's face immediately set in with anger before sadness overshadowed. "What?" she sighed. "You look beautiful, God, you look beautiful," I responded before waking up from my trance and quickly regretting my words as my head pulsated in embarrassment. Her face turned faintly pink as she smiled before she responded, "Ugh, Kenny, I'm supposed to be mad at you." I ruefully smiled as I looked into her eyes, slowly moving my hand to her face, and softly rubbing my thumb in a circular motion over her smooth cheek. Tracey gently placed her hand on mine and whispered something I couldn't make out. Her breath made the small hairs on my hand jump. My hand quickly dropped to my side when I heard two loud honks come from outside the house. "Andrew," I said softly but emotionless. She shook her head and abruptly responded, "I have to go, Kenny," before brushing past me. In the blink of an eye, she was already out the door with her jacket over her shoulders. "My girl's all grown up," Mom said, rushing past me to look out the front door's window. "Shouldn't you be leaving too? Wouldn't want to be late for your date," Mom continued, heading back to her room. "Yeah," I shook my head, "Yeah, just a second." I stepped into my room and grinded my teeth in anger as I looked at myself in the mirror. "What are you doing, Kenny?" I whispered, "What are you doing!" I was dating Angie for a reason, damn it! She was the hottest girl in Westfield, yet, all I could think about was Tracey! Every time I kissed Angie, I thought I'd get one step away from her, away from Tracey, but I always seemed to get closer! Tracey was the only girl I could smile at and not feel like I was lying to myself. I couldn't blame myself, I never did, I was too selfish, and I knew it. It wasn't just Andrew I hated, it was every guy. Just the thought of knowing Tracey would be married to one of them in ten years, tortured me. Yeah, Andrew was every bit of bad, but so was everyone else, even the ones weren't single. I pulled my vibrating phone out of my pocket, glanced at the caller ID, and answered it. "Hey, babe," my words felt sour in my mouth. "Coming, baby?" Angie asked. "Sorry, I was just - Nothing. I'll be there in five." - Chapter 7 - Party Pooper "And then she showed him her wedding ring!" Tom laughed, his drink spilling onto the ground as we stood huddled amongst two other guys I had never met in my life. I faked a laugh and slapped Tom's back, causing more of his drink to spill as my eyes continued to situate on Andrew and Tracey who sat next to each other on the couch across from us. "That wasn't funny," one of the guys said, looking at me. "Right. I'm gonna get another drink," I said, hoping to put the awkwardness to rest. My eyes never left Tracey who I could of sworn looked uncomfortable as I poured whiskey into my red, plastic cup followed by ginger ale. Suddenly, Andrew got up from beside her, barely able to walk without wobbling, and stood beside me as he struggled to remove the cap off his beer. "Wazzap, bruddah!" he smiled drunkily at me, eyeing up the cap opener in his left hand. I smiled back and put my right arm around his shoulder, not daring to look at the reaction on Tracey's face. "So," I said and slyly grinned, blinking repeatedly to get the room to stop spinning, "Which one of the girls here do you find the most attractive?" "Hm, hm, ohhhh... let me see... There's just, just so many, man," he garbled, his brain hard at work. "I couldn't agree more, but, there must be one of them you'd jump into bed with," I politely responded, trying my best not to hit him over the head with the bottle in his hand. "Kenny, what's going on?" Tracey said, walking up behind us. "Baby, can you fill my cup?" Angie said, putting her hand on my back. Andrew spun around and pointed at Angie's breasts as he stared at them. "I wouldn't gettin in to bed with her." A loud slap, like music to my ears, echoed through the cramped room of the house as Angie fanned her hand, and Andrew held his right cheek. "Bitch slapped me!" he growled. Tracey's face turned red with anger as she shoved him against the table, and I couldn't help but evily smile as she ran through the front door. "What's going on here!" Amy, the host of the party, yelled. I didn't bother to answer as I rushed out of the house, the guilt gnawing at my mind and weighing in at my heart, as I saw Tracey sitting on the curb. I sat beside her and put my arm around her. "I knew it too, you know," she said, sorrow in her voice, "But I wanted what you Angie have, so, so bad!" She scolded herself as tears builded up in her eyes, "I'm just a stupid, stupid little girl!" "No, you aren't," I consoled and kissed her head, "And even if you were, you're my stupid little girl." She smiled through her tears and sniffled. "I just want someone, you know. Someone to tell me how much they love me, and," "You have me," I interrupted. I ran my fingers down the side of her face, over her lips, and to her chin as I gently rubbed it with thumb. "Kenny," she whispered, her eyes closed, top lip over her bottom lip. Slowly, I leaned my head towards hers at the same time I lifted her chin. The wetness of her lips illuminated by the street light above us. She opened her eyes as she no doubt felt the heaviness of my breathing on her face. "Kiss me, Kenny?" she cutely squealed, wetting her lips with her tongue. Gently, the skin of our lips soldered onto each other, the warmth of our breaths not letting the wetness on her lip dry out. Any feeling of regret slowly slipped away as her hand slid through the hair on the back of my head before scrunching up into a fist as her tongue licked my lips. She moaned into my mouth she slipped her tongue in between my lips, making moan in unison as I felt the texture of her tongue, before she repeatedly flicked my own tongue. The sound coming from her lips smacking against mine and tongue flicking against mine made my cock stir in my pants as her other hand cupped my cheek. Finally, with my mouth satiated with the taste of my little sister's tongue and lips wet with her saliva, we slowly pulled our lips away from one another, making a wet popping noise, before we stared at each other with my hand caressing the back of her head. She smiled. "Holy. Shit," Angie said, standing three feet away from us. We both turned our heads at her in shock and embarrassment. The whole world felt like it was going to fall apart. If I wasn't extremely in love with Tracey, I would have wished it. But now, the only thing that I wanted to do was smash a bottle over Angie's head. I wasn't drunk enough to do it, and I wasn't stupid enough either. But for Tracey's love, I would do anything. "What is it?" Amy said, walking up to Angie from behind as she looked at us and then at her. "They just kissed! On the lips! Tongue and everything!" Angie screamed in horror. "No, we didn't!" Tracey shot up from the curb and argued, "She's drunk, look at her! Her eyes are bloodshot!" I stood up as well, right behind Tracey. Amy laughed and inspected Angie's eyes. "Maybe you should go back inside and rest in my room a little bit, Angie." "What! Kenny! You! How!" she exclaimed as Amy hauled her back in by the arm. "Stupid bitch," Tracey murmured under her lips before putting her hand to her mouth. "I love you so much, Trace," I said, smiling at her as she blushed. Tracey stuffed her face into my chest, and I wrapped my arms around her. "I love you too," she responded, looking up at me with a smile, as her hand slid up and down my back. The rest of the night went by fast. I told her she should drive and the next thing I knew, I was in the passenger seat of my coupe rarely opening my eyes as I heard the engine roar. And then, the back of my head hit something soft and absorbing while my lips felt something much alike. I must've mumbled something to hear Tracey say one last thing. "Tell me you love me in the morning." - Chapter 8 - Not Zeus Nor Hera It wasn't a dream. The mild headache was a reminder of last night and all the events that happened. All of them. I swung my legs off the bed and landed on two feet before I left my room. I walked into the kitchen and immediately smelled bacon and eggs. Tracey was sitting by the kitchen table, playing with her hands. I smiled with joy. Before I could walk over to her, Mom spoke, "Tracey told me." My heart jumped out of my chest as I stared at Mom as she distributed bacon and eggs on four plates that laid across the kitchen counter. "Tracey told me you two came home last night. I'm guessing your date with Angie went well?" Mom smiled, handing me a plate. "No," I said looking at Tracey who continued to play with her fingers, this time faster, "We had a fight. I broke up with her." "Aw, you poor thing, come here!" Mom responded, grabbing the plate from my hands and putting it on the counter before hugging me. "It's okay, Mom," I said, shrivelling out of her hug, "Because I met this other girl. The most beautiful girl I had ever set my eyes on. I couldn't believe how much we had in common." I tried my best not to look at Tracey, but I could feel her eyes burning holes through me. "Okay..." Mom shrugged, "I'm happy for you? I'm gonna stop by the mail office, but when I come back, we're going to have a long chat." I breathed a sigh of relief as Mom left through the front door before looking at Tracey who was staring at me. My smile faded away as she brushed passed me, with no expression on her face, and disappeared into her room. "Trace?" I said, walking into her room before putting a hand on her waist. She turned around and gazed at me with tears forming in her eyes. "I need to know, Kenny. I really need to know last night was real and not just my drunken brother!" she sniffled. "Everything I said in the kitchen was true.. Come here," I responded, sliding my arms around her waist and kissing her forehead. "Just, don't!" she exclaimed, taking a step back, "I need to hear it, Kenny!" "Damn it, Trace, I'm sober right now and I'm telling you that I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you ever since we were kids! Angie? I only dated her because I thought it would help me forget about what I felt about you, but that's impossible. And last night, God, every day since last week, seeing you with Andrew? Trace, if I could count the number of times I got jealous when he put his arm around you, I'd tell you. I wouldn't be able to describe how much I wanted to hurt him. If that makes me selfish, fine, but I just want you to know that I'll never be able to love another woman like I do you. I want you, Trace. I want you more than anything in the world." "Look, maybe I should give you time," I sighed before turning around to leave. "Don't leave me," she squeaked with her soft voice. I turned around to see her cheeks wet with tears. "Don't ever leave me!" she cried into my neck as I securely wrapped my arms around her. Her lips, wet with tears, slowly slid up my cheek, giving me goosebumps all over, and stopped at my lips. With her hands at the back of my head, a flashback to last night, she planted soft kisses along my lips. "I'll never leave you," I said, kissing the tears from her cheeks. I watched attentively as she slipped from my grasp to peek outside her room, looking left and right, before closing the door and turning to me as she bit her bottom lip. "You look really sexy when you do that," I smiled, my cock stirring in my pants. Tracey's cheeks immediately flushed pink as she looked down and giggled. "I'm your big brother, Trace, you don't need to hide anything from me," I passionately expressed. She looked up before crawling on her bed, giving me a great view of her white, cotton panties hidden beneath her nightgown before she fingered me over to come. On all fours, I crawled to her before towering over her in a straddled position. She hooked her legs around my back and planted kisses all over my face. "You just seem different," she said looking up at me. I cupped both of her cheeks and responded, "I am. I told you how I felt about you. No more lies." "Lie down on me, Kenny," she said. I listened to her and immediately, my hard-as-steel cock felt her leg rub up against it. I looked at her and smiled. Slowly, I lifted up her nightgown with my mouth open, mesmorised at how smooth and silky her skin was as I ran my palm up her flat belly to her small, perfect breasts. I squeezed and massaged her breasts as she softly moaned my name. I brought my head down to suck on her naval before dragging my tongue across her belly multiple times. I kissed in between her breasts as her hands massaged my hair and her feet rubbed my ass. I took her left nipple into my mouth and nibbled it as I flicked my tongue over it, tracing it's circular shape before switching over to her right nipple. "That... feels really good, Kenny," she breathed, her chest arching in the air. "Turn around and stick your cute butt out for me," I said, completely in a trance of both love and lust. My head was pulsating as much as my hard cock and heart was. She listened to me, smiling as she turned around and stuck her butt in front of my face. She read my mind as she slowly slid her panties to her knees. "Here," I said, a lump in my throat as I pulled her panties off her and to the ground. She giggled as I kissed both of her feet and then up the side of her left legs to her butt cheek. "You are so beautiful, Trace. I always knew you were, but now, I, fuck, I can't even think with, fuck you're making me so horny right now!" "Why didn't you TELL, UH -" She struggled to hold her moans as she buried her face into her pillow when I licked around and in her ass hole. After several seconds of fucking her with my tongue, she turned around onto her back and with her index and middle finger, she expanded her pussy lips and bit her bottom lip. I smiled and plunged my mouth into her pussy getting a couple licks in before she pulled my head away, her breathing abnormal. "No, I," she took a couple breaths and calmed down, "I want you to fuck me." In a matter of moments, the mushroom head of my cock was already hidden inside her pussy. "Wait!" she yelled in whisper in my mouth. "Did I hurt you? We'll stop, I -" "No! Don't stop, it's just," she blushed in embarrassment, "I've never had..." "Me neither," I responded, smiling down at her. Tracey smiled back and licked my face like I was a lollipop. I nuzzled my face into her neck as I pushed my hard cock further inside her moaning at every inch until all seven inches was deep inside of her. "Shit! I forgot, I should've stopped, I didn't hear, you have to believe me!" I frantically and worriedly said. "Shush, baby, I didn't yell because it didn't hurt," she smiled, kissing me, "Keep going." With her legs hooked around my waist, arms around my neck and nails pressed into the flesh of my back, I thrusted my cock in and out of her. We both moaned into each other's mouths as I fucked her while looking into her eyes. I only realized I finally came inside of her when her nails ran over my back and I was gasping for air into her chest. "What does this mean for, for us, baby," she said, panting, "Are we still brother and sister?" "Why can't we be both?" I said, kissing her lips. She smiled. "I love you," I said, cupping her cheeks. Tracey kissed my lips and responded, "I love you more." We both jumped as we heard the front door open, and slid to the edge of the bed where we sat. "It's surprising," she said, as she intertwined her fingers with mine. "What is?" I asked, kissing her hand. "How right this feels," she replied, bringing our interlocked hands to my face, "Do you feel it, baby?" I inspected our hands. "I do. I do."