Youtuber Oneshots

~4: Dirty Little Secret~

"You're brother's so hot," my best friend Shiane whispered under her breath to me, before leaning back into the couch snickering. I heard it a million times before, Shiane thought Mark was quite possibly the sexiest man alive and for the most part, she wasn't wrong. I peered my head up to see Mark who had just come in and was wheeling his suitcase through the hallway. Immediately I felt my cheeks come to a flush but, made a desperate yet successful attempt to shake the thought.

  "Step. He's my step brother. You know... My mom married his dad. We've had this discussion a million times over, we're of no relation." I found myself explaining that to her over and over again to the point where it was becoming an annoyance. However in reality, I mainly only said it to justify why it's okay that I find him immensely attractive. "I don't care what he is, that right there is a beautiful man." I rolled my eyes and playfully gave her a shove to which we both began to laugh. However, on the inside, just knowing he was going to be staying here for the whole week made me tremble.

  I loved the way he swiped his fingers back through his luscious thick locks, his habit of biting down onto his lip when he's trying to concentrate and the charming smile that peeks from behind what look to be luxuriously soft lips, almost everything about my step brother made me weak. I could feel my temperature began to rise just thinking about having those lips pressed to my neck, and those strong hands exploring my body.  

 Ever since I hit puberty and learned about sex, I always found Mark was the first thing to come to mind. His touch and taste was something I secretly and desperately yearned for. It was a thought I could never shake, no matter how hard I tried. As I grew older, those thoughts and feeling only intensified to the point in which I almost have zero control over them, especially when he comes for a visit. I knew it was terrible, and a part of me was always so disgusted with myself but, the fact still remains, I wanted him in more ways than I should.

  "Okay, okay! I'll stop. I know how much it annoys you." It wasn't that I found it annoying, it was more like jealousy. I'd be lying if I said I didn't have feelings for him as well. I simply just didn't need or want to hear my best friend go on and on about how much she likes Mark, when deep down, I had true feelings for him beyond just physical attraction.  

  However, we've been family for the last ten years. I was nine, he was sixteen and we've spent enough time together to devolve a bond much like a real brother and sister. We may not have been blood related but, I still beat myself up over having these uncontrollable thoughts and feelings for a guy who's technically family, even if not by blood. What I wanted most, could never be and I knew that, which left me day and night with nothing but taboo fantasies of being with him, mentally, physically, emotionally and especially sexually. 

  I heard booming footsteps traveling across the old creaky hardwood floors and then, there he was. He stood in the arch of the living room doorway, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, giving me a dirty look, and a stern pout. "What is this? I've already been in the door five minutes, and still no hug?" I knew he was playfully being sarcastic and as such, I stuck my tongue out to him, blowing a raspberry to the air. 

  "Come on, seriously. I haven't seen my sister in four months. Don't make me beg." The words he spoke hit me hard. Hearing the word 'sister' from his mouth made me feel even worse about wanting him so much. Inside, it felt like knife to my heart as it was just a reminder as to what our reality is. However on the outside, I had to keep calm and pretend as if I wasn't phased.  

  I buried my chin into my chest and sunk my eyes to the ground so no one could see how flushed and warm my cheeks were getting. After a moment or two, I plastered a goofy grin on my face and hoped off the sofa, making my way to Mark with my arms spread wide. "How you doing, kid?" Kid was a nickname Mark had always called me. Even though we're only seven years apart, it just kind of stuck, even if I was now an adult.