Microsoft Word - Illicit Desires ePub.doc (8 page)

I hesitantly turned to face her, not making eye contact with her. Chin down, I burned

holes in my Mom's new carpet with my eyes.

"Do you want to tell me what that is on your back?"

Right into the subject!

"It's… uh… It's a ta-tattoo."

"Really? A tattoo? I thought it was only a fly!" She folded her arms in front of her chest.

Mom plus sarcasm … so not good.

"I know it's a frigging tattoo, Adrian!" she yelled. I didn't say anything; opening my

mouth would only bury me in deeper shit.

She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. "Please tell me it's just a henna tattoo!"

What? She real y thought I'd do that shit?
"Uh… It's a h-henna tattoo."

"You're lying.”

“Yes.”

"Temporary?" she asked, the hope in her voice not going unnoticed.

I shook my head. "It's ink."

"Holy shit!"

Oh. My. God!
My mother just cursed!
My.
Mom.
Cursed!

That never happened, and I mean
never
. Lily or I would be grounded for two hundred

and fifty years if we ever said that, or even something similar. "Oh, my God!" She brought

her hand to her mouth to cover a sob. "Dave!" she called.
Fuck! Add more to the fun.
"Dave,

get in here, please."

"Hey, what is it?" my messy-haired father asked, rubbing his eyes with his palms.

"Ask your son!"

"Adrian, what is it?"

I didn't reply.

"Ask him to turn around!"

For fuck sake, just tel him already!

"Turn around? Why?"

"Adrian? Show your father how grown up you are. Turn around."

I wanted to flip her off but I knew it wouldn't be a very good idea if I did so, given that

I was already in big trouble. So, I did as I was told.

"Holy shit!"

Yeah, I heard that before.

"What the hell, Adrian?! What the hell is this?"

What is it with me having to say it? Are they real y that stupid?!

"It's a tattoo, Dad. And no, it's not henna, it's black ink that will last forever unless I

remove the skin off my back for some reason, okay?!"

"You're in big trouble already, mister. Don't make it worse on yourself by giving us

attitude," Mom warned.

Whatever! Are you done questioning me?

My dad came closer and examined it, probably looking for an infection or some medical

shit. "And what language is this?"

"Arabic."

"What does it say?"

"I don't know …" I lied.

"Adrian?!" he warned.

"It means …
courage,
"I lied again.

"Really? How can you tell? Do you speak Arabic? It could be '
Soup
' for all you know!"

"I know what is it because I Googled it, Dad!" I really did.

"And of course the idiot who did it doesn't know that you're underage!"

I didn't reply.

"Means one thing: you have a fake ID!"

I heard my mom gasping.

How does he know that?
I looked at him wordlessly, then lowered my gaze to the floor

again.

"I was in high school once, you know?" he answered my unvoiced question.

"You do realize that you're grounded, right?" Mom said.

Of course. It's what you do for fun!
"Yes."

"Go get dressed, Adrian, and I'll wait for you in my office. I'll have to take a sample of

your blood to see if you caught anything. And you'll hand me that ID," my dad said in his

too-calm voice.

God! I hate to make him upset!

I nodded and looked at my mom, waiting for her to say it.

"You're grounded for three months, Adrian!"

"What?!" I shouted.

"No car, no cell phone, and no going out after school, just your football practice and

the games, nothing more."

"But Mom, this is too much! It's not fair!"

"Say something more and I'll make it four."

Not fucking fair!

"I heard that!" Mom called while I was climbing the stairs to my room.

Fuck, I didn't even know I said it aloud!

"Hey, what's wrong? Why all of the yelling?" Lily asked as she came out of her room,

wearing a purple bathrobe and wrapping a towel around her head.

"This is your entire fucking fault! Go put something on!" I throw the towel in my hand

in her face, then I went into my room and slammed the door.

Everything is her fucking fault.

Like I had been doing since
that night
… I blamed her for everything and nothing at

once.

But, the bottom line was, I wouldn't have needed to go to the bathroom downstairs if

she had just gotten out of the fucking tub so I could use the damn thing!

And I wouldn't have gotten that tattoo if it wasn't … for her.

I knew it wasn't like she had forced me to get it, but still, I wanted to blame her. I'd

been treating my sister like shit for too long, but it was easier that way. I couldn't get her out

of my mind, and I couldn't stop drooling over her. But that was just part of it. The guilt over

what I did to her was eating me from the inside out. Eating me alive!

I still couldn't believe what I did to her.

How could I do such a thing? How could I? What kind of sick twisted bastard was I to

do such a thing to my sister? And while she was sleeping?
God!

But then again, I thanked God that she
was
sleeping, at least she wouldn't witness or

even remember such a thing. I didn't know how could I ever face her if she ever knew I'd

done something like that.

I could die out of guilt. Truly die, I wasn't just saying it.

That night when realization hit me about what I did to her, I couldn't stop vomiting. I

thought I was going to vomit until I got dry and simply died.

And to add to my misery, she came rushing to me in our bathroom and held me, asking

if I was okay. I apologized, not knowing what else I could say. I felt like killing myself for

what I did to her.

When she hugged me, I fucking felt an overwhelming need to kiss her, like really
kiss

her. And that was just fucked!

I knew it was wrong; it was like I become a bewitched loser whenever she got close to

me.

So pushing her away was my only solution, and pushing her away I did. Hard.

I hated myself for that, but it was better that way. For her if not for me. She didn't need

a pervert brother in her life; she was better off without me … with me away from her.

I yelled at her, asking her to never touch me again—never come close to me… And,

since then, she'd obeyed.

Well, she had no other option; I used any available excuse to start a fight with her.

Sometimes, she just accepted it or fought back, but other times she would cry, which broke

my heart every single time.

God!
If only things were easier on me, they would be easier on her too, because I'd stop

being an asshole to her.

Being grounded was the thing that I hated the most, it was just fucked. I spent two months

without going out one fucking time, and it was driving me crazy, I was bored stupid.

Ian, Sean and Elliot came to hang out with me in my room a few times but still, it

wasn't that good, and it wasn't as much fun as going out. Lily, on the other hand, was almost

as grounded as I was. My Dad was very overprotective of her, and I loved him
so
much for

it. He didn't allow her to go anywhere far without me, and since I couldn't go out, she

couldn't either. She hung out with Sandra and Julia and went shopping with them every now

and then, but other than that, it was a big
no
.

Eventually, she begged that we be allowed to have a movie night with our gang of

friends. It took a huge amount of begging but we finally got permission. I knew she didn't

do it for me
–
she hated me, or at least, I wanted to make her hate me so she’d stop being

sad or mad. Or so I hoped.

The movie was amazing. Well, other than Emma, who was trying to dig her way to

China through my arm while we watched the movie. If Lily had done it, I would've been

more than okay with it, but she didn't even touch me. I thought she would, since she had a

soft heart and simple things scared her, but she didn't
–
she hung onto Elliot's arm instead.

Later that night, I couldn't sleep; like always I was thinking about
her
. I kept on tossing

and turning in my bed for God only knows how long. I heard movement outside my room

but didn't think much about it.

Suddenly, I heard my door opening then closing after a moment. At first I thought it

was Mom or Dad checking in on me, but it wasn't. A peach smell filled my room and my

lungs.

Lily.

She hadn't visited my room for night cuddling in a long time, longer than I could

remember. She begged me to let her spend the night in my bed, and of course I knew it was

a bad idea –a very bad idea. But she kept begging and I couldn't tell her 'no'. Though, I

couldn't tell her 'yes' either.

I just sighed. She took it as a yes, and jumped into the bed with me. I tried to stay calm

and convinced myself that I could stick to my side of the bed, and simply never think about

the beauty lying next to me.

It worked … until she started tracing my tattoo with her fingertips.

I felt a shiver running through my body as her soft fingers touched my skin.

Fuck!

I tried to upset her by acting all douchey with her again.

Maybe she'l just leave, and this will end wel with each of us sleeping in our own beds.

But, of course, she didn't leave.

My poor sweet little sister was too scared to go back to her room.

Her fingertips started touching me again; this time, she was touching my scar. I couldn't

shrug her hand away this time. I knew it would break her heart; she'd think I regretted what I

once did for …
myself
.

She thought that I gave her my kidney so she could live, but the truth was, I gave her

my kidney so that
I
could live, because I simply couldn't live without her.

If she dies, I die. End of the story.

I held her hand, since it was the safest thing for me to touch in her body, and I assured

her that I loved her more than anything in this whole world. And it was true. I loved her

unconditionally. And that would never change. Ever.

The kiss I left on her forehead burned my lips. I couldn't help but feel how soft and

beautiful her skin felt.
God! If I just could stop it…

She fell asleep after our heart-to-heart talk, or my little confession to be clearer. I missed

that so much. I missed my sister. But I couldn't do any better more than I was doing now, I

had to remain an asshole to her and after what she said –about how she loved me— I had to

work a little bit harder.

I stared at her sleeping form. She looked so peaceful, so much at ease. She was wearing

a 'Hello! Kitty' tank top that was white and made her look all innocent and pure.

Like always, she was so innocent and pure … my sweet little sister.

Her left hand was under her cheek, and her other was still holding my hand. I was

grateful for the distance between us, but I still couldn't help but want more.
Closer.

My eyes rested on the line that her tits made in the middle of her chest. It looked so

fucking hot and it was screaming my fucking name. I knew it wasn't right. I knew that the

guilt would kill me if I did something to her like I had done before.

I knew I shouldn't. But also, I couldn't stop.

I couldn't have her right in front of my eyes and not be able to touch her. Eventually, I

couldn't keep my hands to myself. I touched her. I touched the line that had been glaring at

me all of this time. It was begging me to touch it and I just couldn't ignore its calls anymore.

She felt in-fucking-credible! So fucking soft, it felt like silk, the fucking softest silk ever

known on earth.

I couldn't bear the thought of not kissing her, so I did. I meant to kiss her neck once,

but the softness of her neck and the smell of her skin made me kiss her again and again and

again.

It seemed like I wasn't able to stop! I pulled her to my body and ground my erection

into her.

Fuck! Not that again!

I thought better of it, not sure if it was because I didn't want to jizz my boxers again to