A Connection is Made

Just a few days ago, Joey would've scrambled out of the room like it was on fire. Scrambled away from his sister, from the implication of even thinking about her this way. But so much had changed.

His teacher. His mother. Madison. Serena. One after another, women who would have seemed unattainable—impossible, off-limits—had become part of his new normal. Part of the world he was shaping, even if it felt like it was shaping him in return.

Still, Juniper? This was something different.

It wasn't just taboo. It was personal.

He'd had sex with Madison just a little earlier that night. His mother earlier that day. He had been pretty sure he was tapped out. Worn down to the nerve. But now, with Juniper's body pressing into him, her lips clumsy and passionate on his, something visceral started to build inside him again.

And he hated how easy it was.

No—he loved how easy it was.

She was perfect. She always had been. That was the problem.

The golden child. Top of her class. Captain of everything. Their parents used to say things like "Why can't you be more like Juniper?" and then try to act like it was a helpful suggestion. Juniper didn't even need to join in. She just looked at him like that—like a pathetic younger brother trailing behind her, hoping for scraps of validation.

He craved connection with her growing up. Desperately. There were whole months, maybe years, where all he wanted was for her to treat him like he mattered. Like he wasn't just some defective little sidekick in the background of her perfect teen movie life. But the connection never came. Only glances of disdain. Sarcastic jabs. Cold reminders that she was popular, pretty, smart… and he was not.

And now?

Now her body was wrapped around him, trembling with devotion. Her eyes were glassy with lust and something like worship. It wasn't subtle. It wasn't shy. Juniper—his sister—was throwing herself at him like he was the center of her universe. The way she kissed him, touched him, begged him...

It unlocked something old. Something buried. Something twisted and raw and hungry.

When he was younger, back before he even understood what sex really was, he remembered the confusing tangle of emotions he used to feel around her. The first time he noticed her body in a bathing suit. The way her laughter made his stomach ache. The weird jealousy he had when she'd bring home boyfriends. Back then, he'd even had a few dreams—sticky, embarrassing dreams—that he'd woken up from feeling ashamed and terrified by.

He never told anyone.

Not then.

Not ever.

But now, here she was. Shirtless. Gorgeous. Drunk. In love. Crawling all over him like he was the one she'd been dreaming about for years.

She kissed him again—deeper, wetter this time—and he kissed her back. Fully.

He felt her grind down against his lap and realized, with a jolt, that he was hard again. Against all odds. Against everything that had happened earlier. Because this—this—was different.

It wasn't just arousing.

It was vindicating.

Every look she ever gave him that said you're not enough—she was taking it back now. With her mouth. With her hips. With the little gasping noises she made as she kissed his jawline and whispered about how special he was. How much she wanted him.

She straddled his waist and tugged at his shirt. "I wanna feel you," she breathed. "All of you. Please, Joey."

He reached up and brushed a piece of hair from her face, and his hand lingered at her cheek. Her skin was hot. Her eyes were wild. Her mouth parted just a little, waiting.

"You're drunk," he said, but even to his own ears, the words sounded like a formality.

"I'm yours," she said, smiling like it was the most obvious truth in the world.

She leaned down, kissing him again.

He let her.

And then he kissed her back, deeper, arms wrapping around her body, pressing her down into him. His breath caught in his throat as her bare skin met his, electric and overwhelming.

There was no going back. He didn't want to go back.

Juniper was drunk, but her fingers were skillful. Soon she had Joey's pants off, followed by his underwear. The heat of the moment seemed to take a pause, a contemplative beat where she sat astride his legs, her eyes locked on his groin, her fingers softly wrapped around his erection. A sigh of satisfaction escaped from her mouth as the corners of her perfect mouth curled up into a subtle smile.

And then she was on him.

And then he was in her.

She was wet. She was tight. She was eager. Atop Joey his sister rode, shaking with pleasure, a look of pure ecstasy on her face. She wasn't looking to get off. She was looking to connect. The man she loved was inside of her, the man she considered her one and only. It wasn't the connection he had craved when he was younger, but this was better. An intimacy with his sister that he had never thought possible. A dream come true that he'd never had the courage to dream.

She reached down and took his hands into her own, bringing them to her chest. In the past week Joey had touched a lot of perfect breasts, but something about Juniper's, something about his sister's, they way she whispered his name as he squeezed them, telling him that she loved him, begging him to continue, brought him right to the edge and then over.

She screamed as the fountain of his affection filled her, her own orgasm rolling over her body. But her eyes stayed open, locked on his own, eager to convey the deep love she felt for him. Saying, without words, how she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.

And then, beyond all odds of human physiology, they went again.

And again.

Juniper lay next to him, one hand still draped across his stomach, her chest rising and falling in slow, even breaths. Her hair was tangled, lips parted, flushed and beautiful. Peaceful in a way he'd never seen her before. Not once in their entire lives.

Joey stared at the ceiling, his hand resting lightly on hers.

What had they done?

No. That wasn't the right question anymore.

What hadn't they done?

And why didn't it feel wrong?

He should've been freaking out. Panicking. Pacing the room and pulling at his hair. But all he felt was this strange, heavy stillness. Like the world had finally caught up to him and said, Okay. This is who you are now. This is what you get to have.

And somewhere in that quiet, the part of him that still remembered all those childhood slights—the lonely dinners, the skipped invitations, the invisible-boy feeling—began to feel something else:

Satisfaction.

Juniper shifted and murmured in her sleep. "Joey..."

He turned to look at her.

Her expression was soft. ****. Full of the kind of love he never thought he'd see from her—not for him.

He reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear.

"I guess that just happened," he whispered.

And the crazy thing?

It felt kind of perfect.