One Shots

Not Yet My Sestra [Straight]

"So Jamie-"
"Woah, sorry but girl why are you still doing that accent? I mean, don't get me wrong, it's cute as fúck but it's me, I loved the Brooklyn one too," he interrupts.
Shít! She can't do a good Brooklyn accent, never mind maintain it.
"It just...keeps me in character," she replies.
That's a plausible reason, right? Besides after she's managed to talk to him, he'll finally understand she's not Kris and why she has the accent.
"Oh yeah, you actors and actresses. Anyway, go on what were you saying."

He glances around as they step out of the elevator and towards his front door.
"Oh...um, well, the other day the funniest thing happened. I swear I saw this man who looked really similar to you...maybe it was your dad?" she asks knowing that has to be one of the worst lies she's ever told.
Thankfully, Jamie doesn't question it; instead he simply slots in his keys, opens up the door and lets her through.
Snorting he replies, "Doubt it Kris. The fúcker's in some Dixie state with a blonde former beauty queen or something. I haven't seen him in years."

"Er, that's the-"

Before she can say another word, his plump, luscious lips descend onto hers. She's taken by shock, backing up against the door as he kisses her slowly, savouring every centimetre of the skin of her lips. Bree can't remember the last time when she'd been kissed so thoroughly and wonderfully. Usually with men, the older they grow the more kisses are just obligatory actions that they hope will lead to more.

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This part is continued on my profile on Inkitt (under the same name). For more details look at the 'Foreword' at the start.

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"Who the hell are you?" he hisses, noting all the small things he'd ignored before.

Her height is not quite right, her features...everything is just not...Kris.
"Wh-what?" she gasps.
"You are not Kris. Please...Please don't tell me what I think you are," he sighs with a hand running over his weary face.
"I'm Breeanna-"
"Jesus fúcking Christ! Are you kidding me?!" cries Jamie spinning away from her momentarily as he tries to process it.
What the hell has he done? How he could séx with his soon-to-be stepsister? His father's fiance's daughter? Ugh!
"Jamie, it's not what you think-"
Bree's out of the bed now, rushing around to him but he jumps back like she's some kind of panther.

"Are you even legal? God, how old are you?!" Shít, he cannot be a paedophile.
"No no, I'm 20. I swear, I'm 20. I just...still live at home," she states with blushing cheeks.
Traditions in her family dictates that after she finishes her degree in American Literature, she'll probably be set up with some eligible bachelor and live a life as a southern belle housewife.
"What are you doing here? Why are you even in New York?!" he asks in utter confusion.
"I came to find you," she states simply.

It's completely the wrong thing to say and she realises it as soon as she's said it, because he's immediately taken back. He wears that expression that all boys have when they realise a girl is completely insane. She can tell he thinks she's some kind of stalker now and now, she has to explain herself before he starts calling the cops.

"To try convince you to come to your dad's wedding!"
" 'My dad's'...You are insane-you know that? You are fúcking out of your mind, cuckoo! I would never in a million years go to my father's wedding. Were you going to convince me using séx?-"
"No! No! That was just a misunderstanding-"
" 'A misunderstanding'? So between finding me at the bar to walking to my apartment, to lying in my bed, you could not have told me- 'hey, I'm not actually the person you think I am'?"
"Jamie please," she states breaking down.
Her lean body crumpling onto the bed as her head slumping in her hands.

There's silence for a moment as Jamie hesitates for a moment seeing a defeated woman in front of him is not something he can stand by and allow.
"Shít..." he sighs, sitting next to her but leaving a respectable distance between them. Although, it may be too late for that now.
"Jamie..I'm sorry. This was a stupid, stupid idea. I just...My mom just wanted things to be perfect and I just..."

She breaks down into sobs and Jamie is struck between what he should do and what he wants to do. Screw it.
He slowly pulls her into him into a soft hug as she blubbers on about something with her mother and the wedding. Finally, when the sobs soften, Jamie eases off as Bree gazes her with the prettiest, saddest expression. It's incredible but she even cries beautifully.

"Breeanna, listen...your credit cards been charged with a hotel bill. Why don't I walk you back there and you can have a chat to your mom? Just forget this, okay? Forget all this ever happened and just go home," he insists.
But the thought of leaving New York breaks her heart a little. She's not been here long, granted, but it's such a whole different world from the one she's used to that she doesn't want to leave now.
Rationally, she has to. Her life is back in a whole different state and she has no plan. And she cannot do without a plan.

"Fine. I'll go home, Jamie if you agree to come to the wedding. Your dad really wants you there and you are his-"
"No. I am not coming to the wedding, Breeanna," he adamantly insists but Bree's quick to retort that he is.
It's an argument that could go on forever with neither budging on the matter until Jamie just sighs and shakes his head.

"God, you are incredibly frustrating!" he huffs under his breath.
"No, I'm just stubborn, tenacious and determined," she smiles back. They're all traits she's extremely proud of despite the spouts of trouble it's landed her in over the years.
Jamie growls in annoyance deciding that there is no way, someone like her is letting this go. She's like a barracuda-or maybe that should be quicksand-because the harder he resists, the further down he sinks into her grasp.

"Fine! Fine, I'll think about going to the wedding," he compromises, but it's not good enough for Bree.
The woman simply crosses her arms across her chest and gives a firm shake of her head.
"That's not good enough. Come to the wedding. You don't have to stay long or even be in the pictures but just come to the event, please?" she negotiates.
He can tell she's not going to be any more lenient than that so what choice does he have but to take it.
"...Okay, fine. I'll try making it to the wedding, but do not tell my father. I don't want him to know I'll be there," he stresses.
He's not going to build bridges with his father (those have long turned to ashes); he's going because he sees no other way to get his soon-to-be stepsister out of his apartment without using force.

It's as good as Bree's going to get and with her maid-of-honour duties completed to make this her mom's dream wedding, she grabs her dress and tugs it on, stretching the hem down her thighs as she eases into her pair of heels.
Fluffing out her hair, Bree makes her way out into the hallway and towards the door as he escorts her out in only his boxers.

"So, I suppose I should say sorry and thank-you for the-"
"Nope. No, this did not happen," interrupts Jamie wagging his finger between them.
Ugh! All that attraction he'd felt for her has mysteriously vanished now, after knowing she's going to his step-sister. It's the small miracles that he may never have to see her again, that Jamie's truly thankful for because this has been sufficiently awkward as it stands.
Bree's smile turns cheeky as she responds, "oh, but I'm going to remember this forever."
"No, no, no-I don't want to hear that. Don't need to know."
Bree bursts out laughing, unable to help it.
A brazen thought enters her mind and she boldly follows it through.

Jamie's shocked when her lips meet his and instinct means that the touch of soft, feminine lips makes him respond positively. Realising just who it is, he's quick to pull back and pull himself from her trance.
"Go," he insists demandingly while she simply giggles at his reaction.

With a shrug of her narrow shoulders, Breeanna flicks back her blonde locks and with a low-seductive tone states, "see you soon, Jamie."