Chapter 8

My sister jumped into the car, frilly skirt bouncing and in her usual tank top, carrying a bag stuffed full of snacks.

“I’ve got chips, nuts, chocolate bars, and more Mountain Dew than we could possibly need,” she said gaily. If I hadn’t been in such a bad mood, I might’ve appreciated the effort.

“Whatever,” I said instead. “I get to choose the music.”

“As you like, Big Bro!” She reached for her seat belt and clicked it in place. “This is gonna be fun!”

It wasn’t. Mile after mile rolled by with the dull monotony of knowing there were still hours left to go on a journey I’d never wanted to take in the first place.

When it got to be lunch time, we stopped to stretch our legs and get a burger at a fast-food place close to the highway. I was in a bad mood and Pam realized it.

“I’m sorry, okay?” she said as we got back into the car. “I thought this would be fun.”

“Whatever.”

She looked out through the front window for a while and then glanced across at me. “How about we play a game?”

I didn’t want to play any games, but I was so mind-numbingly bored that the idea of playing a car game wasn’t the worst idea I’d ever heard. She took my lack of immediate dissent as encouragement.

“What game?” I asked.

“Truth or Dare?”

“I’m driving,” I said. That pretty much eliminated all the possibilities for dares, unless she wanted to dare me to veer crazily into the next lane.

“Truth or Truth, then,” she said, bouncing slightly in her seat.

“Sounds lame.”

“Only as lame as the questions, and they’re only limited by imagination. Do you have a lame imagination, Big Bro?”

“No.” I had a vivid imagination; I’d just never had a lot of opportunities to do more than imagine.

“Woohoo!” she cried happily. “I’ll start.”

“Whatever.”

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No. Do you?”

Several seconds passed before she answered. “No.”

I’d expected there to be a quick denial, and her hesitation surprised me. It wasn’t an instant no, as if there was more to the answer.

“Have you ever had a girlfriend?” she asked.

“You know I have, Penny Martin, last year, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Why did you hesitate on the previous question?”

“What do you mean?”

“On my girlfriend question, you said ‘no’ but with a hesitation. Explain the hesitation.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” she said, sounding like she was trying to hide something.

I glanced across at her before returning my eyes to the road. “It’s called Truth or Truth, Pam, and that was evasive.”

“Oh, fine. I’ve been with a woman, okay? And I’m not telling you who, so don’t ask.”

I felt my eyebrows rise. “You’ve been with a woman?”

“I just told you I have, didn’t I? It’s my turn. Have you been with a woman?”

“Yes, thank you very much. I’m not a virgin, if that’s what you’re asking.” And I wasn’t, either. I’d been with two girls; Penny hadn’t been my first. “Did you like it?”

“Yes, I liked it. How many girls have you been with?”

“Two. How many girls have you been with?”

“I told you already. I said I’ve been with a woman, so just one.”

“How many guys have you been with?”

“Uh uh, it’s my turn,” she said, shaking her head at me. “What positions did you do with them?”

I glanced at her again at that question. “That’s pretty personal.”

“Yeah? Got something better to do? Or do you want to chicken out already?”

“What are the rules of this game, anyway? What’s the forfeit for not answering?”

She shrugged. “A dare when we get to the hotel?”

That seemed reasonable. “All right. Missionary. So how many guys have you been with?”

“Wait up, I said positions, plural. What else?”

I squirmed awkwardly. “Just missionary, okay? Answer my question.”

“Two guys.” She cocked her head to one side and regarded me. “How many times have you had sex?”

Damn. I’d hoped she wouldn’t ask that. “Twice. You?”

“Er...” She paused, as though counting. “Just intercourse? Or ... like ... you know...”

“I know what?”

“Well, like oral.”

Oh. “Oh. Yeah, that too.”

“So ... like maybe ten times ... with guys. Once with a woman.”

I glanced across at her in amazement. My sister’d had way more sex than I had, despite being eighteen months younger. And with a woman, too – I still couldn’t quite believe that she was bisexual.

“Was it Janey?” I didn’t think it was Janey; she didn’t strike me as that kind of girl. But then, until ten minutes ago, I hadn’t thought my sister had slept with a woman, either.

“I told you I’m not telling you that. Besides, it’s my turn. Two different girls, two different times, missionary both times? Is that why you’ve only done missionary?” she asked, picking at a subject I really didn’t want to talk about.

I shrugged awkwardly. “Yeah, I suppose so.”

“And you were so bad they didn’t want you again?”

I glared at her. “You want me to turn this thing around and go home?”

She giggled. “I was kidding, I swear!” She laid one hand on my arm, “You’re a hunk, Big Bro, I know loads of girls who would just love to spend a night with you.”

That was news to me. “Bullshit.”

“No, really, I’ve seen the way girls look at you.”

“Really?”

She smiled at me. “Hundred percent.”

It was a nice image, but still I didn’t believe her. It was my turn, and I wanted to pull the conversation away from me. There was something I’d been wondering since she first mentioned this trip, and this seemed as good a time as any to ask the question.

“So why did you really book this trip? Did you book it to get away from me?”

“Tough to do that when you’re coming with me.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t originally, was I? So answer the question.”

It was her turn to squirm. “Yes, okay? I originally booked it to have an excuse to get some time alone. Happy now?”

“So what changed? Why did you insist I take you?” It might’ve been her turn in the game, but I figured she’d answer, and she did.

“Because, when mom suggested you take me, it became a chance for us to spend some time together, and I liked that idea.”

I wanted to see her face, but the need to keep my eyes on the road stopped me from really examining her expression. Still, she’d seemed genuine, and it was a nice sentiment.

“Well, you’ve got me now,” I said lightly.

“I get two questions,” she said, and that was fair. “First, you have to tell me everything you’ve done with the two girls, and then, second, why you think they didn’t want to sleep with you again.”

I knew why we hadn’t gotten around to sleeping together again. In one case, it was just a one-time experiment. That wasn’t the problem; it was the other situation I wasn’t prepared to share. But, in fact, I hadn’t done anything else, and I really didn’t want to admit it. “I’m not answering that.”

She clapped her hands together. “Yay! Now you owe me a dare when we get to the hotel.”

Crap. I’d forgotten about that.

We were pretty tired when I finally turned the car into the parking lot at the hotel. We didn’t get there until almost six in the evening and we were both exhausted. The convention would continue tomorrow, and Pam was apparently willing to pass for today. “Let’s get checked in, then maybe we can get some food,” she suggested.

I brought our bags in and waited across the lobby while she talked to the front-desk person, and then we joined up by the elevators. “Room 614,” she said, waving a key card.

“Just one room?” I asked. I should’ve thought about sleeping arrangements prior to that point, but it hadn’t occurred to me.

“Yeah, well, I booked the last room they had yesterday. This was all on a whim, you know.”

We rode the elevator in silence. When it dinged its arrival on the sixth floor and opened its door, I followed Pam down the hall to our room.

“Here we are,” she said, using the key card to unlock the door and then pushing it open. “After a day in the car, I’m dying for a shower.”

I pulled our two bags in, letting the door close behind me. “Er ... Pam ... this is a double.”

“It’s a king, actually.”

“Yeah, but...” The room was basically the bed and some simple furniture; there was no couch. “It doesn’t have a sofa bed.”

“We can share, silly.”

“I’m not sleeping with my sister. I’ll get my own room.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes at me. “There are no other rooms. The convention is here. The hotel is full. Besides, you’d just be throwing money away. It’s a king bed, there’s plenty of room. We can share just fine. Don’t be a wuss, okay?”

I bristled at the wuss comment, but I supposed she was right. “Okay, if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” She walked to the bathroom, reaching for the hem of her tank top and pulling it over her head, leaving her in just her bra. “I’m going to take the first shower, okay?”

“Sure,” I said, watching the bare skin of her back as she disappeared into the bathroom.

She came out a while later, wearing only a towel. It was barely long enough to cover her ass. “Your turn,” she said.

I was torn between wanting to stay and watch her take that towel off and wanting to be anywhere but in the same room when she did. I got up and headed into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. Sure, a brother and sister can share a hotel room, but is that still the case after they’ve kissed? After he’s spanked her? After he’s seen her naked – more than once?

I stood under the spray, washing away the day’s travel and trying not to think about my sister in the next room. Then I turned off the water, dried myself, wrapped a towel around my waist, and opened the door to our room. My sister was standing by the window wearing a nice yellow summer dress I hadn’t seen before and a pair of white high-heeled sandals that really enhanced the shape of her already-shapely legs. I had only casual stuff in my bag.

“Shall we get some dinner?” she said, turning to regard me, and her eyes seemed to roam over my naked torso. Well, she had called me a hunk earlier; maybe she’d meant it.

“Sure. Gimme a minute to find some clothes.”

She leaned against the room’s only chair, watching me intently.

“Er ... a little privacy?” I asked.

“Why? You’ve seen me naked.”

That was true, but I wasn’t about to drop my towel in front of my sister. I picked out clothes from my bag and headed back into the bathroom to dress. I stepped back out a few moments later, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

“You look very nice,” she said, “and that reminds me. You owe me a dare.”

“Okay,” I said cautiously, “Lay it on me.”

“Well,” she said, looking suddenly nervous, “it occurred to me that no one here knows us, right?”

“That’s probably true,” I replied.

“So ... how about we pretend to be a couple this evening?”

I cocked my head, looking at her suspiciously, “How do you mean?”

“I want you to take me out on a date,” she said quickly. “I want you to hold my hand, and ... and ... treat me like you’d treat your girlfriend, and ... kiss me at the end of the evening.”

I hadn’t expected that, and it was obvious she’d had it all planned out. She hadn’t just thought of it, despite her that reminds me comment. I wondered when she’d planned this; maybe while she was in the shower, but possibly back in the car. But as I looked at her, standing there in that dress, looking as hot and as cute as I’d ever seen her, I realized she was right; no one knew us here. So what if we played a game for one evening? If that’s what she wanted, I couldn’t see the harm. Besides, we’d already kissed once.

“Okay,” I said.

She looked at me seriously. “You have to sell it to me, make me believe it. Otherwise it doesn’t count.”

I bowed to her. We’d both taken dance lessons in our early teens, back when we couldn’t say no to our parents, and secretly I’d never regretted it. It was easy to move with grace and fun to play the gentleman. “You look beautiful tonight. May I escort you to dinner?”

She grinned. “Yes, thank you.”

We walked out of the room, and, as soon as she’d closed the door and slipped the key card into her purse, I took her hand. She beamed at me, a smile of genuine delight, and held my hand in both of hers, pressing herself against my arm as we made our way to the elevators. There were mirrors inside, and as we entered I saw our reflection – a young couple, pressing close, looking for all the world like they were in love. It was romantic. Okay, she was my sister, but we were far from home and this was just one evening. If it made her happy, what was the harm? And she was happy; I could see it in her eyes.

I pressed the button for the lobby and then slid my arm around her waist, pulling her against me. It seemed like a natural thing to do – in the spirit of the roleplay, at least – and she responded by placing her hand on my chest and pressing herself against me. Her summer dress was thin and I could feel her body beneath it, and I had to resist the temptation to trail my hand down over her ass.

When the elevator stopped, we made our way into the lobby, holding hands again, and then went outside to look for a restaurant that would be suitable for the occasion. After a quick drive into the city, I found an Italian place near the Charles river and I knew it was what we needed. We took a cozy table in one corner, and the server ensured we had a candle for the ambience.

As we chose from the menus, her foot brushed up against my leg under the table. She’d clearly slipped her shoe off, because I could feel her toes caressing my calf.

“You’re better at this than I thought you’d be,” she said when the server had left with our order.

I was glad she thought so, but she had been the one taking the initiative. I shrugged, displaying some nonchalance in keeping with my role. “Not my first rodeo.”

“Oh, I know. I can tell,” she said, taking my hand in hers. Her brow furrowed and she looked thoughtful. “First date and all, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” I said.

“Why did you sleep with those girls just once each?”

I squirmed, uncomfortable again. Was it worse answering as her brother or as her date? Maybe if I kept to the role it would be easier. “It was a couple of things, I guess. The first girl ... the sex just wasn’t very good, you know? It was my first time and hers, too; I think we just wanted to lose our V-cards and it was never going to be more.”

She nodded. “That makes sense. And Penny?”

I shrugged. “We broke up soon afterward.”

“Was the sex part of the reason?”

“Yes,” I said, “but not how you’re thinking.” I looked down at the tablecloth. “It was her that was crap, not me. She just laid there the whole time, doing nothing. And she didn’t want to do anything other than missionary. No other positions, no blow jobs, nothing.”

She squeezed my hand. “And if the other was your first ... does that mean you’ve never had a blow job?”

I closed my eyes, feeling the heat in my cheeks. “No,” I admitted. Was there anything worse than having to say that to your own sister?

But she didn’t laugh at me. “I’d have given you a blow job,” she said. “If I were your girlfriend, I mean.”