Offside: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (38 page)

With Rachel and Dad out of the equation, we aren’t even step siblings. We’re just two horny people looking to get laid.

I’m so hard I have to wait a good ten minutes after I’ve finished cleaning myself for my dick to go back down. When it does, I realize I have the choice of putting back on my dirty running kit or wrapping a towel around myself until I get into the room, and every single one of the eight towels that I can find are barely big enough to get round me.

I don’t reckon Tilly standing outside the bathroom waiting to use it is coincidence either.

“Finally.”

We lock eyes for a long moment before I follow her gaze slowly down to what I know is an already swelling dick. A moment later we look at each other. Tilly clears her throat.

“Couldn’t find any smaller towels?”

“There weren’t any big enough.”

“Cocky.”

I step aside to let her past, because if we refer to it too much, I know what will happen. If I’m even anywhere near past semi-hard, this towel is going to lift off like a rocket, and all hell is going to break loose. I don’t care, but Rachel and Dad might, especially if Tilly decides to throw a hissy fit. For some reason, however, she looks like she won’t. Maybe she’s ready to admit it. Maybe she’s about to push me back into the bathroom, whip the towel off and make me slide every single inch of it into her while Mom and Dad do the Sudoku in the fading sun. And maybe that’s all wishful thinking.

Whatever’s going on in her head, she takes her time to pass, and for what must only be a brief moment, but feels like an eternity, we are front to front in the entrance to the bathroom, somehow jammed awkwardly against each other, trapped by the confines of the door frame.

Caught like this, we can’t help but rub against each other as she slowly tries to release herself, and I swear to God she’s engineered the whole thing on purpose. It isn’t just my arm and upper body she’s in contact with either, it’s my rapidly bulging dick, and she knows it. She’s not only enjoying this, she wants me to know she is as well. Naughty, Tilly. Is she giving me a sign or playing me?

Before I have time to react, before I even have time to say anything, Tilly is past me, and I’m staring at a recently slammed bathroom door, only inches away from my face. That’s not all, either. I can feel it against my feet, even before I hear Rachel’s voice. Thank God it’s enough to soften me almost instantly.

“Nice bum, Landon, but I don’t think that’s really all that appropriate for dinner, even in this liberal household.”

I gather up the fallen towel, careful not to expose myself in the process, and side step the short distance to my room without even turning around to see what kind of face Rachel is pulling while she watches me.

I can hear Tilly smile to herself through the wafer thin walls, and I can’t help but join her.

––––––––

T
illy

Alright, I did miss him. Mom and Marvin aren’t exactly the life and soul of the party, so without Landon here to dick around with, it’s easy to get bored. I’d prefer a cell phone signal any day of the week, but I guess Landon isn’t too bad for a second best. I know he wants me to admit it, but I don’t think any of us should risk the potential head swelling that might occur afterwards if I did. The last thing I need is for him to know I like him, or at least like him enough to admit he has his uses, here in the middle of nowhere, in what could easily be a scene from a film about the end of the world.

What if we were the last human beings left alive? Come to think of it, that man in the tractor yesterday is the only other human being I’ve seen apart from my own family in several days. No wonder I feel some kind of attachment to The Donkey.

It must be all in my head though. As soon as I leave here, and we all head back to reality, I’ll realize what a fool I’ve been. You know, with my catalogue collection of every model shoot he’s ever done, my secret scrapbook of newspaper articles, the secret folders on my laptop of pictures. Yeah. Know your enemy, that’s what I say. Get so close to them you can feel their heartbeat, their blood pulse through their extremities.

You can’t blame me really. And after the other day, I just had to know. I had to know if it was swelling for real or he was putting it on. I had to make sure it wasn’t just socks stuffed down there after all. You should have seen his face when I did it. Shock would not go anywhere near to describing it accurately. I never thought I’d see him like that, with a face that gave the impression he had literally been caught with his pants down.

“What?”

Landon looks at me over the dinner table, trying to work out what I’m thinking.

“Nothing.”

It would be weird enough to work. They do say opposites attract after all, yet when I look at Mom and Marvin it’s definitely a case of like for like. If this is what they are like now, only a year after being together, what will they be like in forty years time? They practically finish each other’s sentences off already so perhaps they’ll just turn into one person. A kind of Marvin Rachel morph. A Marvel. If Landon ever tried to finish my sentences off for me, I’d kick him in the balls. Repeatedly.

Of course, I know he’s just fucking around. If I wasn’t his step sister anyway, I wouldn’t let him get anywhere near me. I know what Landon is like. A love them and leave them kind of guy. A quick fuck and an even quicker exit, before anything can go bad. I don’t even need to ask him to know he’s never had a long term relationship, but I’m going to anyway, just to get under his skin.

“So, Landon, have you got a girlfriend?”

His smile is not an adequate answer, and I’m not going to let him get away with it.

“I think I read somewhere you were romantically involved with a La Perla model. Veronica something wasn’t it?”

Veronica Giuliani. I know exactly who it was, and romantically involved is as much a misnomer as can be.

“Yeah, that kind of sort of didn’t work out all that well.”

“Oh, that’s a shame. You two looked perfect for each other in the photos I saw.”

In the one photo I saw of them arguing outside a McDonald’s drive through.

“Can we talk about something else?”

“Sorry, is this making you uncomfortable?”

“No one likes to talk about their exes, Tilly.”

Oh, right, unless it’s everyone talking about mine.

“I haven’t had much luck with women.”

“Maybe it’ll just take you a little bit of time to find the right one. I mean, look at your father, second time was a charm for him.”

Marvin smiles at my mother in a way that  sends shivers down my spine. Thank God they’ve managed to refrain from fucking each other so far. Tonight better not be the night they go at it, although by the looks of Marvin he won’t have enough energy even if Mom wanted it.

“Are you alright, Marvin?”

He doesn’t look all that well, and he hasn’t eaten much food, although that’s not all that unlike him to be fair. He’s pretty stick thin as it is.

“Fine, thank you. I was just wondering when my son might find the right woman for him.”

There he goes again, apparently lost in some other task and following the thread of our conversation completely.

“Well, it isn’t for the want of trying is it?”

“Hey now, hold on. Just because I like women doesn’t mean that’s a negative thing.”

“You like them for a day and then you choose another one.”

“Not always, no. I get that more from the women I happen to end up with, actually. That love them and leave them kind of reputation I’ve got? Completely unfair. The papers made that up to sell more copies.”

“No, ok, that would mean you’d have to love them first, right?”

“Some people aren’t looking to settle down, Tilly, not until they find the person they want to do that with.”

“And you haven’t found that person in, what, like, a hundred, two hundred, three hundred-?”

“Sometimes you’ve got to kiss a lot of frogs.”

“With long legs, bronzed skin and big tits.”

“Tilly!”

“Not all of them, some of them had small tits, and others even had tits as small as yours.”

“That’s enough about breasts, thank you.”

It makes me laugh that Mom can’t even say it.

“Maybe you’re just looking in the wrong place.”

“Maybe the wrong place is exactly the place I should be looking.”

I am determined not to be the first one to let my eyes drop, but Landon starts pulling faces and I can’t help but laugh. I silently tell him he’s an asshole and he gives me a look that tells me he likes being told so.

Three hundred may be an exaggeration, but it’s got to be somewhere close to that figure. Sometimes two at a time, at least one time up to three, but even though there have been countless stories over the couple of seasons he’s been in the limelight, not a single person has come forward and accused him of cheating. Landon Maddox may be a womanizer, but he’s a chivalrous one at that.

I guess if you don’t do proper relationships, you don’t have anyone to cheat on.

After dinner we sit for a while on the decking, before the drop in temperature pushes us all back inside. We have the same problem as before, too many people for not enough seats. This time I push Landon over and squeeze myself into the sofa next to him. I think he’s surprised, and a little bit pleased that I seem to have gotten over my fear of closing the physical gap between us.

I can feel his leg twitch nervously next to mine, before he rearranges himself to try and give me a little room, then changes his mind and opens his legs fully again, squashing me into the armrest.

“Landon.”

“You’d be more comfortable sitting up on the arm.”

“I’d be more comfortable if you moved up a bit.”

“Why don’t you just sit on the floor like you’ve done up until now. I know you want to be close to me, but this is pushing it a little too far.”

Sat next to him like this, and looking at our two bodies together, I realize for the first time how big he is. I’m a petite girl anyway, but Landon is like twice the size of a normal person. I don’t mean he’s fat either, or all that muscly, or even all that tall, but the combination of all those things, and perhaps the illusion of a smaller than average sofa, makes him look enormous. Naturally, I can’t help but think about his dick and immediately start to go red.

“It’s hot in here, isn’t it?”

Landon gives me the side eye.

“No.”

Any more tightly packed in and that T-shirt would rip. With arms like that around me I couldn’t fail to sleep well. You know, right after.

“Are you feeling alright, Tilly, you’ve gone quite red.”

Trust Mom to pick up on it.

“Fine, just a bit hot, that’s all, you know, squashed into the corner here I can hardly breath.”

Landon makes a token effort to move to the side, but to be fair there isn’t much else he can do.

“Why don’t you take a cold shower, that ought to cool you off.”

I need to stop thinking about him like I am, you know, in that way that will never happen. I guess it must be because of the close proximity, and the several months of detailed study of every aspect of his persona. Then there’s the subtext of course, and the looks he gives me, and the things he says to me in passing, and the outrageous flirting masked as something else entirely. Unless I’m just seeing things I want to see that is, but that would be ridiculous. No one gets Landon Maddox for keeps, I know that. Especially not his step sister. Especially not the girl that hates him more than anyone else in the whole world. I mean, why would I want him anyway?

I hate his sexy face, his thick arms, his perfect smile and his big, swinging dick more than anything. I hate that I can’t have him, and I hate that he thinks I want him in the first place.

Why did I have to end up with God’s gift to women squeezing me out of space on
my
vacation sofa, and making me sleep underneath a dining table in the living room on a mattress as thin as a roll of toilet paper? What did I do to have to put up with the way he makes my body gooey, my panties soaking wet and my pussy throb? That wasn’t in the script at all.

I was supposed to hate him, not the other way round. Oh, fuck, is this what this is? This ridiculous fucking sensation that feels like it’s crippling me, either when he’s here or when he’s not? Is that what this is?

If it is, what the hell do we do? Ignore it, is the best advice I can give myself. Ignore it and it’ll go away. I must be sick or confused from lack of sleep. It, this, it can’t be real.

Thank God he’s sworn off it, thank God we’re step siblings, and more than anything else, thank God we aren’t here on our own. God knows what would happen if the matching bird-watching nerds weren’t around to keep an eye on our every move. I might even be tempted to jump in that jacuzzi, bathing costume or not.

“I think I’m going to be a little sick.”

“Dad?”

Marvin politely excuses himself from the small cluster of confined space that makes up the living room, takes the short journey across to the bathroom, never seemingly in a hurry, before emptying the contents of his stomach into the toilet bowl in systematic fashion.

Landon and I look at each other. I look at Mom. Mom looks at Marvin.

“Mom?”

“Marvin?”

Yeah, alright, he looked a little bit peaky at dinner time, but I didn’t expect this. Not the first session, nor the three that come after it. When he’s finally done, he returns to the living room as slowly as he left it and takes his place again in his armchair. It must be half a minute before he speaks again.

“Sorry, it must have been something I ate.”

No shit.

When the shock has finally melted away, Mom swings into action. Tylenol are found, offered and refused, paracetamol too. Marvin accepts a glass of water, but refuses to go to bed. He insists he is ok, but Mom, Landon and I are all concerned. It’s come out of nowhere.

“You’re going green”, Landon says, standing above him.

“You are a bit green, Marvin”, Mom agrees.

“I’m fine. It must have been what we ate at lunch. Maybe the eggs.”

“I ate eggs and I’m fine.”

“Maybe the tuna then.”