TABOO

Three.

Hands to myself - Selena Gomez.

I have spent the last week trying to avoid Harry at all costs. He gives me these looks that make my heart skip a beat every time we happen to pass each other. Thank god for the huge size of our house, that way I don't have to see him much.

Mom is back home from her four day trip to Australia, and calls me out when I don't seem very excited to see her. I apologize and ask her how her new photography book is coming along. We chat for a bit until dad and Harry interrupt us by coming in the door in the middle of a heated conversation.

"Ready, honey?" Dad asks.

Mom stands up, straightens the wrinkles out of her dress and nods, walking over to where he stands by the door. He's taking her out for dinner since she's been gone almost all week. As soon as they're out the door, I dart towards the stairs, but stop in my tracks to go grab a bottle of wine first. I close my bedroom door behind me and pour a glass of red wine. I click the remote for my iTunes music to start playing from my surround sound speakers and the voice of Ed Sheeran fills my room. So relaxing.

Twenty minutes and two glasses of wine later, my bedroom door opens and Wyatt walks in, startling me. I hadn't talked to him since he told me to find my own way home from his house.

"I came to apologize for last weekend. I'm sorry for the way I reacted." Wyatt says, closing my door behind him. He walks to the edge of my bed and sets down.

I don't know if I'm going to forgive him or not. It took him a whole week to man up and face me, but it's really hard not to with those big brown eyes of his staring right through me. I take an extra minute to think about it. I really want things to work out with Wyatt and I, but he needs to work on his temper. I'm about to tell him that I'll give him another chance when his eyes land on the bottle of wine and empty glass on the bedside table.

"You're a damn alcoholic. All you ever do is drink wine." He yells and stands up, punching a hole in the wall beside my bed. Pieces of dry wall and lavender paint chips fall onto my bed in a million tiny pieces.

"What is your problem with me drinking wine?" I yell back, just as loud. "It's been months since I've drank wine besides from last weekend.

"Whatever," he says, kicking the frame of my bed before going out the door.

"I'm not giving you another chance, Wyatt, not until you learn to control your temper."

Wyatt pays me no attention, walking on out without shutting my door. I hear him slam the front door downstairs and another slam that must be his car door. I rub my temples and pour another glass of wine. I'm not an alcoholic like he says I am, but I do turn to wine when I get stressed, and lately, my stress levels have been in the clouds.

I don't have the energy or motivation to get up and close my door so I just leave it be. A couple minutes later, Harry is standing in my doorway, leaning against the wooden frame. At this rate, I'm going to have the whole bottle of wine gone.

"What could you possibly want?" I ask.

Harry walks inside and closes the door, sitting on the edge of my bed like Wyatt had been just minutes ago. His hair is disheveled but doesn't look bad, and again his shirt is only half buttoned.

"What was with all the shouting?" He asks back.

"Wyatt and I had a fight. You were right, he is an asshole."

"I'm always right." He says with a smug grin.

"Not about everything,"

Harry just stares at me, his eyes moving lower and lower, moving over my breasts, midsection, and down the expanse of my stretched out legs. I feel naked in my shorts and tank top with his intense gaze on me.

"I want things to work out with Wyatt." I blurt out, looking down at my legs just so I don't have to make eye contact with Harry.

"He's an asshole like I said, you don't need him." Harry trails his hand up my thigh and stops at the edge of my shorts.

I'm holding my breath when I look up at him, and my gaze locks with his. My chest tightens, and I part my lips, letting out a shaky breath. He rubs circles with his thumb against my skin while keeping eye contact with me, and I don't stop him.

"If I was imagining how much I turn you on and how much you liked our kiss, then why have you been avoiding me all week?" Harry's finger tips slip past the threshold of my shorts, and I close my eyes, tipping my head to the side.

He laughs and moves his hand back to his own lap. "That's what I thought."

"We can't be doing this, Harry." I say, not even convincing myself of it.

Harry scoots across the edge of the bed to where he's closer to me, and my eyes linger on his chest, unable to look away. My body wants him, but my mind knows it's wrong.

"Why?" Harry asks, his gaze switching between my eyes and lips. He runs his long fingers along my collarbone. "What's wrong with making each other feel good?"

"Because it just is," I answer, ignoring his second question.

"We may be siblings by adoption, but not by blood." His fingers trail up my neck, and rub softly just below my ear where he kissed me last week.

"But we grew up together,"

Harry leans down close and whispers, "Doesn't matter," and tugs on my ear lobe with his teeth.

A small whimper escapes my mouth, and without realizing my actions, I reach up and tangle my hands into Harry's silky hair. My body has beat out my mind, and I do what I've been trying not to want all week. I pull Harry's face to mine and kiss him. Our lips mold together, and we're all heavy breathing and lapping tongues. He reaches above us and flicks off my lamp, leaving us in the dark.

Harry grabs both my hands and presses them against the mattress on each side of my head. He swings his leg over my hips and straddles me, bringing his face back down to mine, finding my mouth with his easily. His hair hangs down, curtaining around our faces as he licks into my mouth. My mind is telling me to stop, but my body is begging for more. I want to touch him so badly, but his hands have mine trapped where they are.

I whimper into Harry's mouth as he moves his lips on mine in a way that makes heat spread through my whole body. He lets go of my hands, and I lock them together around his torso, pressing his body against mine hard. He moves his mouth to my neck just below my ear and bites down, making me cry out, then licks over it. One hand tips my chin up for a wet kiss, while his other hand snakes between our bodies and stops at the elastic waist band of my shorts.

"God, Harry, this is so wrong." I gasp. His hand slides down an inch farther, and I spread my legs for him. "I can't believe we're doing this."

Harry goes slowly, moving his hand into my panties and cupping me. I can't stop the moan that comes out when his fingers slide across my clit. He moves them fast, and without warning pushes two inside me. I am a moaning, writhing hot mess under him and try to suppress what I know is building up. It feels so wrong, but too right to stop at the same time. Harry's long fingers curl inside me, and an earth shattering orgasm rips through me. I squeeze my insides around him and kiss him hard while pulling at his hair.

After a minute or two, Harry moves from our position and sets on the edge of the bed. We're both quiet. A flood of emotions hit me; ecstasy from the orgasm, relief from finally giving in to the tension that had been building up all week, guilt, anger, and disgust because of what I just done with my adopted brother.

"I'm, uh, I'm going to go take a shower." I say, dismissing him.

"Until next time, little sister." He says before leaving me alone with my feelings of self loath.

((Would you give in to Harry? Let me know in the comments))
((Also, if you liked this chapter and want the next one, please *vote* for it, it really helps me out. Thanks ❤️))