Chapter 2

Josh awoke early the next morning with less guilt than the prior evening. It wasn't the first time he'd fantasized about Bree, but the frequency of her use for his sexual gratification had been increasing lately. The week was testing his will as Chloe began upping the ante with her teasing. Given her wanton behavior, he could only hope to survive the next encounter with a strong conscience.

Suddenly, he heard a knocking on his door. "Who is it?"

"It's Mom, Josh. Are you decent?" she asked, and he laughed to himself.

It wasn't like he slept in the nude, but at least she was courteous enough to ask before entering.

"Yeah, come on in," he answered.

Elyse was dressed for work as she took a seat on the bed. Josh felt remorseful realizing he never remembered her coming home, yet there she was ready to go back to work.

"Morning, baby. Just wanted to check in with you before I head to the office. Bree mentioned something about the AC pooping out last night?"

He sat up and answered, "Yeah, I took a look at it and am running out later to pick up the replacement part."

She smiled warmly at him, tussling his bed-matted hair and looking deep into his green eyes. "You certainly are my handsome handyman."

"No problem." He cracked a smile and changed the subject. "Ahem. So did you still want to spend some time together before your trip?"

"It depends, I've got a busy week tying up loose ends before the cruise. What's your schedule look like?"

He shrugged. "Pretty much the same as last week. I've got a day-shift tomorrow, then I'm off for two days before the weekend grind."

"Well today and tomorrow I'm booked showing houses. How about lunch on Thursday?"

"Wow, Mom. A lunch date?!" he protested. "Seeing as I'm the only man in your life, I thought I deserved better than a lunch date?!" He feigned a hurt expression.

"Oh, very funny, smart-ass." She laughed. "If you really want to take me out for a dinner date, you've got to give me the full treatment, though. I'd expect just as much from you as I would any suitor taking me out. You'd have to dress up nicely, bring me some flowers, oh – and I'd want a proper kiss at the end of the night. Not just a kiss-your-mother peck, I'm talking a real melt-your-loins good kiss. Think you'd be up to all that, sweetie?"

Under normal circumstances, Josh probably would have became flustered by that tall order. Bree had changed him of late, though. "I'm sure I could handle all that," he said, confidently.

"Hmm ... is that so." She smirked and tapped at her chin. "Well, perhaps another time. Besides, I wouldn't want everyone around town assuming I'm a cougar,"she added, playfully waggling her brow. "I'm the one around here with a reputation to maintain."

Josh couldn't help but laugh at his mom referring to herself as a 'cougar.' "Alright, you win. Lunch date it is for Thursday. You pick the place, and please let me pay for once."

"Alright," she said, leaning in to kiss his forehead before glancing at her watch. "Well it's time for me to run. Have a good day with the girls, and I'll see you later tonight."

"I'll try to keep them in line. Bye, Mom." As she left, he stood to yawn and stretch before heading to the bathroom. Taking a quick pee, he exited the bathroom and saw Bree on her way downstairs donning work-out attire. "Going for a morning run are you?"

Pausing in her tracks, she coyly grinned and asked, "Would you join me if I was?"

He smiled back at her. "Yeah, I'll go with you." Slipping back into his room, he grabbed a shirt and running shorts from his dresser before turning back toward her. "I'll meet you downstairs in a minute."

She just stood in the doorway making an adorably pouty face. "But – but I wanted to watch."

"You wanna watch me get changed?!"

"Is that such a difficult concept to grasp?"

"I don't know – I'm your brother. Doesn't that seem a bit odd to you?"

"No different than if you wanted to watch me get changed," she quipped, playfully.

His tongue was tied. "Well ... but that's different. I mean, guys are naturally wired to get turned on when a pretty girl takes her clothes off."

She gave him a goofy grin. "Wow, I guess I'm supposed to take that as a compliment," she mused, sarcastically. "Seriously, though. Why doesn't it work the other way around? Why can't I get turned on by your body?"

He shrugged. "I guess I – I just never really thought of it that way."

"Well, change already! I want to get started before it gets too warm outside," she said, plopping herself on the bed.

Josh still felt slightly self-conscious undressing in front of her.

"Would it help if I gave you some music?" She offered, and playfully began beat-boxing a chintzy techno stripper. He couldn't help but laugh, and visibly relaxed as he rocked his hands behind his head and gyrated his hips. "Woo hoo, take it all off!" she cheered, pumping a fist in the air as she giggled.

He peeled off his shirt, twirling it around his head before throwing it at her. Then he got in her face and began rhythmically thrusting his pelvis at her. She could barely restrain her laughter and even snorted a couple times as Josh had never acted this playful. 'That mandate really loosened him up, ' she thought.

Her boisterous laughter tapered off when he got down to his boxers. "Alright, I guess that's enough for right now, stripper-boy. I'd tip you, but I left my cash in my other shorts," she said, winking and patting at her pocket-less shorts.

"That one was on the house." He grinned with slight embarrassment. "I guess you just owe me one now," he said, quickly putting on his running gear.

"Deal. Now come on, lazy bones," she said, bounding out the door and down the steps.

They usually ran together in a picturesque residential development adjacent to theirs. The large colonial-styled houses reminded them of scenes from classic TV shows and films. The yards were adorned with matured oak, locust, and maple trees, some of which were probably a hundred years old. The roadway had modestly challenging slopes that made for a decent run.

Bree had respectively taken the lead for years, choosing a random sequence of turns along the way. Though it was early June, the crisp morning air was a final reminder of Spring before yielding to the humidity of summer days ahead. After several minutes, they developed a steady pace. Few words were spoke while they ran; many mornings they said nothing at all. Aside from the passing of morning commuters, the rhythmic thumping of their soles was the only sound to be heard.

Many found it ironic that as a state finalist cross-country runner, Josh never particularly enjoyed running. He enjoyed the physical benefit, the surge of endorphins, and the accolades from winning meets; the rest he found utterly miserable. When people asked him how he seemed so naturally gifted competing, he'd smile and tell them all the same thing. "I'm good at it because it doesn't come naturally. I work hard so I can win."

His start in competitive running began in an unlikely fashion: by accompanying Bree during her off-season training. In hindsight it was probably foolish of him to volunteer his companionship. The only running he'd done in the past was mandatory miles in gym class. Longer distances took him a while to get used to, and was anything but pretty. His breathing patterns were terrible, which caused him a lot of cramps. His form and stride left a lot to be desired, as he looked like a duck out of water.

After some helpful pointers from Bree and a lot of patience, he was able to keep up without keeling over after two miles. The game she made out of it helped, "Chase me, Josh," she'd say. And so he did. In that simple prodding came his competitive side and that which drove him to try-out for the cross-country team. He kept a mental image of chasing her as he was on the course, and that was truly his motivation for winning. It was one of their earliest memories reconnecting during high-school years.

Josh was drawn back to the present as he noticed her favoring a leg. Shortly afterward, she hobbled to a stop. "What's wrong?"

"My leg is just cramping, I'll be fine." She cringed, grabbing her upper thigh and flopping down on the grass.

Josh quickly knelt, took her thigh in his hands and expertly began massaging. "Just focus on deep breathing," he instructed as she leaned back on her elbows.

He didn't consider what the physical contact would do to him. Such an innocent way of coming to her aid could cause such conflict between his heart and flesh. But then he remembered her encouragement from last night with that silly mandate. He smiled to himself and continued massaging as he reveled in the feeling of her toned muscle beneath his fingertips. The way he had her leg propped caused the hem of her shorts to gape, allowing the faintest glimpse inside. He drew a sharp breath as he saw the edge of her bare labia.

He tried distracting himself, and asked, "Is it getting any better?"

She continued to wince as his magical thumbs kneaded her. "It's getting better, but you're a bit low. The cramp is up higher."

He shifted his hands higher until she gave some signal of affirmation. "There?" he asked nervously.

"Yeah, that's it," she said, sighing. "Just keep working it a bit more." She closed her eyes and lay flat on the grass.

Josh looked up, watching her chest rise and fall with each deep breath. The situation was making him mildly uncomfortable. 'This is supposed to be non-sexual, dummy, ' he told himself. Though she'd granted him guilt-free touching, he was still reserved about being that close to her most intimate parts. He could feel the heat from her pussy on the backside of his hand, for Christ's sake.

"You seem to be missing your panties," he wryly added.

She propped back up on her elbows looking slightly embarrassed. "Umm, you noticed?"

He shrugged, "Kind of hard not to. All I can feel is your hot little cooter on the back of my hand."

She blushed a little more. "It just feels better when I run without them."

"Getting any better?" he asked, changing the subject once more.

"Yeah, I think I'm all better. Thanks."

"No worries. You wanna keep running or would you feel better walking back?"

"I think I want to just walk it off for a bit," she answered, leaning forward. Though she said she was better, he kept massaging her. "You can stop now, Josh." She sweetly smiled sweetly and placed her hands atop his.

He stood and grasped her forearm, helping her up. They were silent for a few minutes as they began their walk back. He tentatively glanced at her a few times, noting her tense body language. "You wanna say something," he said, grinning at her. "What is it?"

"Did you think any more about Chloe since last night?" she asked softly.

"A little, but I've mostly been trying to forget about her," he deadpanned. "What about you?"

"I don't know. I mean, last night before bed I didn't give it an ounce of thought. It was the moment I hit the pillow that my mind started ... worrying. I know it's probably stupid of me. Tell me I'm not crazy for letting it keep me up." She looked up at him hopefully.

A small part of him felt remorseful that Bree was deeply bothered, yet he'd used the thought of it for satiating his lust..."You're not crazy, it just seemed to bother you more than it did me."

She narrowed her eyes. "Well it should have bothered you!"

He looked mildly puzzled. "I don't see how it's so different from what we do."

"Well you don't see me taking my top off for you?"

"Umm – hate to burst your bubble of an argument, but you did take your top off too. You just had a bra on."

"Josh!" She huffed in frustration.

"Alright, alright, I see your point. I guess it bothered me in the fact that it made me uncomfortable. I mean, we both know Chloe sluts around, but she's never really turned that prowess on me. It's like I said this morning, a guy can't help but get turned on when a pretty girl takes her clothes off."

"That's some kind of cop out. So your short answer is, 'No, Chloe taking her clothes off didn't bother you.'"

"That's not what I said," he quickly rebutted.

Bree implored. "Well try to sell me an honest answer then."

He was silent as she studied his face.

"You know, you don't have to be embarrassed to tell me if she turns you on, right?"

"But she didn't!" he bit sharply.

"Sheesh, you don't need to snap at me like that."

He shook his head regretting his tone. "I'm sorry. I'm just saying, Chloe is not my type, alright?"

"How is she not your type, she's everyone's type," she goaded. "A long haired, skinny blonde with big tits, and a California tan to match; what's not to like?"

Josh plainly read her resentment. "Not everyone has Barbie doll criteria for their type," he stated, staring straight ahead.

"Alright then," she said, taking a slightly indignant tone. She stopped walking and turned to him. "Since you seem to have this holy doctrine for your type, what exactly is your type of girl?"

The question was simple, but he had a way of making his answer terribly complex. He wanted to tell her last night how much she really meant to him, but he couldn't bring himself to say it. He wondered if she knew already and was fishing for confirmation or if she really was clueless. He wondered to himself what the harm would be in telling her.

"My type of girl," he stammered, as they began walking again. "Well ... I prefer brunettes, and I like a girl who is easy to talk to. Someone who can laugh at herself, and who doesn't mind me being chivalrous--"

"God, you sound like Beaver Cleaver," she said, cutting him off, and she started laughing. "Are you sure you're not a closet homosexual?" She teased.

"Come on. You know for a fact that I'm not." He narrowed his eyes at her. "If both my sisters can illicit a boner from me, I'm pretty sure that makes me 'not gay.'"

"Whatever," she dismissed, flippantly. "The point I'm trying to make, is this: Guys get turned on by hot, slutty chicks. I've seen enough drunken frat orgies to understand that. You've been at college for three years now, and you're telling me you've still got your resolve? I mean, when I ask what your type is, you start listing these ambiguous descriptors of the girl's personality. I'm just asking, what makes this guy tick?" she asked, palming his crotch and firmly shaking his package.

Bree's words really struck a chord. She gave him little reason to get upset in the past, but for some reason her prodding had blown a fuse. "Bree, I thought you knew me better than that!" He raised his voice. "I'm not that shallow guy you see at those fucking parties, and you know that my standards are important to me. But for some reason you feel the need to fire off accusations that it's all a charade?!"

"I'll have you know that I've turned down the fuck-buddy system, multiple times. I chose not to tell you about it because I genuinely thought you didn't want to hear it. Who seriously wants to hear their brother gloat about sexual conquests? Friends with benefits is a nice concept, but at the end of the day I'd like to be with someone who wants to be with me. Not just some girl using my body to get her rocks off. So because I'm not like every other walking erection around campus, you accuse me of being an effeminate male?! I don't need this fucking shit, Bree, not from you." He fumed as he briskly walked off.

Bree stood speechless. He certainly spoke with deep conviction, and she'd meant to prod him a little, but not to the point of blowing up on her. "Josh ... Josh!" she yelled, chasing after him.

"Josh, please stop for a second," she pleaded as she caught up with him and grabbed his hand. "I just wa-- want you to be honest with me," she said, sniffling. "We're supposed to be honest with each other."

"What are you really asking of me?"

"I just want to know ... how do you really feel about Chloe?"

As she wiped away tears, he had begun to see what she was really asking. "I meant what I said about Chloe not being my type. The erection I had from her last night was simply my body reacting to her taking her top off; nothing more."

"I want to believe you, but I have to know that you're not buttering up your answer just so it'll sound good to me. I can handle the truth from you. So I'm asking you as a friend, how do you really feel about Chloe?"

'As a friend... ' He scoffed to himself at the idea, unable to comprehend what it would be like if they were just friends. If that were all that stood between them, he would have swept her off her feet years ago. Knowing that her request was deeper than face value, he curiously narrowed his eyes at her, and asked, "Why are my feelings for Chloe so important to you?"

She felt tongue-tied, as if that plea of honesty were being hurled rudely back in her face. It took her a solid minute to form her best answer. "I see you holding out for that special person. I know how important your standards are to you. I admire that authenticity about you, and I'm sorry I insulted you by questioning it. I'm just concerned about Chloe ... and whatever her game is. It just really seems like she's toying with you, and I'd hate to see you led along by her, just to be let down. I don't want to see you get hurt..." Her voice trailed.

He lifted her chin and looked deep into her big, brown eyes. "I wonder what her game is too, but I'll tell you one thing. She is not going to manipulate me as easily as you think. So please don't worry about her sinking her claws into me, not to the point of tears." He wiped her cheeks as if illustrating his point.

She silently closed her eyes and nodded as they began walking again.

Not another word was spoken the entire walk back. She had intently studied his face, looking for sincerity. She had no reason to question his word and felt remorseful that she'd insulted him by doubting him. As they arrived home, he'd opened the door for her and they walked inside, but he still said nothing.

Grabbing two bottles of water from the fridge, she handed him one and felt the fleeting urge to apologize once more. "I'm sorry about what I said, I—"

"Don't worry about it. You said what you thought I needed to hear," he stated, somberly.

"But that's why I—"

"That doesn't mean it shouldn't have been said." He paused, allowing his words to sink in. "I don't want your apology. If you wouldn't have prodded me, I probably wouldn't have realized how much Chloe has been bothering you. And now that I know, I hope we can all have an easier time sorting things out."

"I guess you're right," she mused softly before taking another sip of her water.

"Why don't you get a shower. I'm gonna head out and grab that part to fix the AC."

She nodded and gave him a forlorn look before she turned to head upstairs. Josh let out a small sigh, grabbed his car keys and left.

Chloe had the left the house shortly afterward to hang out with her friend, Kinsey. Repair of the condenser only took a few minutes, so he occupied the remainder of the morning by performing yard work. It was an efficient distraction, at least for a little while. The mindless tasks encouraged daydreaming, and he began pondering on Bree's merciless prodding from earlier. He tried to drown out the musings in his head by loudly blasting some metal tunes on his iPod. That worked for a little while, until Bree came outside. It was a warm and sunny day, so naturally she'd decide to sunbathe. And God, did she look gorgeous to him.

She wore a floral-patterned mocha and turquoise bikini that complemented her golden skin and her chestnut-colored hair. It was still a bit damp from her shower, shimmering brilliantly in the sun. She looked like a model readying for a Maxim photoshoot. All that was missing was a photographer and some spot lighting.

As she sat on the lounger and daintily applied tanning lotion to her legs, she surreptitiously glanced out across the yard at Josh. He wasn't even attempting a peek. In fact it seemed quite the opposite. He appeared to be ignoring her as he angrily shoved the mower around. It looked as if he were hashing out some deep seeded frustration. Feeling a bit guilty and responsible for his self-loathing, she assumed it was their discussion from earlier that was causing him the obvious grief.

Despite her assumption that she was being ignored, Josh was all too aware of her presence. She'd made it clear that she had no issues with them touching, but the verdict was still out on staring at her. It seemed a bit too ... pervish. Like that creepy dude from Silence of the Lambs, Josh jokingly lisped to himself, "It puts the lotion on it's skin." She did things to him; her body did things to him. He'd been all too aware of it for some time, and he used to be able to hide that fact. But it seemed that Bree loved seeing that excitement she stirred in him.

As he made pass after pass across the yard, he'd briefly make eye contact with her before returning his attention to the task at hand. He wanted to look, he really did. But he knew each tiny concession of his will would change their relationship. And he was still scared of what that looked like.

Bree knew how she looked to him; she even expected him to look. 'It's just me, Josh. You can look, ' she thought to herself. After a few more minutes, it was apparent he wasn't going to get out of his funk without some help. So she walked into the kitchen to grab a conversation piece, as if her bikini weren't enough of one.

After shutting off the engine, he knelt and began removing the catcher as he heard soft footsteps behind him. Turning his head to glance up at her, she looked like a goddess as the sun eclipsed behind her head.

"You look like you're working up quite a sweat," she said sweetly, holding a perspiring glass of water for him.

He graciously took it and downed the entire glass in a couple gulps. "Thanks," he answered quickly, and handed the glass back to her. He returned his focus to emptying the bag and carried it off to the compost pile.

She let out a defeated sigh and followed him. She stood behind him for a few seconds, and waited for him to turn and face her. "Are you trying to ignore me or something?" she asked, ruefully.

"Can't we talk about this later? I'm in the middle of yard work."

"You just mowed the lawn two days ago. You're out here because it's a distraction, admit it."

"It's not... " he stammered, not daring to look at her exposed skin. "It's not a distraction."

Her face turned up in a mischievous half-grin. "Then why won't you look at me when I'm talking to you?"

"I am looking at you."

"At my face, yes. Why not the rest of me?"

"Well ... because you're not really wearing a whole lot."

"Come on, Josh. This is no less than I usually wear around the house or at the beach. You can look at my body, silly. Would I seriously wear this if I didn't want you to look? That'd seem like a pretty bitchy thing to do, now wouldn't it?" she asked, giving him a smirk.

He still seemed a bit tentative and darted his eyes out of respect.

"Dammit, I was hoping I wouldn't have to do this... " She warned.

He gave her a puzzled look as she continued.

"Bree mandate number two: Josh won't feel remorseful for looking at his hot little sister's body. Any eye-candy induced erection will be welcomed, and commended."

He tried to maintain a stern face, but the ridiculousness of her request had him curling his mouth into a half-smile.

"What? You think it's funny?!" she warned, playfully. "The mandate is not optional, and you didn't seem to have much objection to the first one from last night. So what's the big deal?"

"Alright, you win. I won't feel bad about looking at you." He smiled, throwing his hands up in surrender before giving her a quick once-over. "Happy now?"

"Yes, that's much better," she chirped, with a look of genuine satisfaction. "Oooh, I almost forgot the second part. I, Bree Sanders, am hereby privileged to perve on my studly brother to my heart's content. Any moistened loins due to such acts of voyeurism will be completely accepted as natural behavior," she added, nodding matter-of-factly.

He opened his mouth to object, but she sharply cut him off. "You don't have a say in this. Remember, it's declaration of Bree law, silly."

"This whole thing is just so fucking retarded," he said, laughing.

"Retarded?! Come on, this is gonna be one lousy summer if you don't lighten your mood. I want Fun Josh, like I saw this morning before our run. The way I see it, I'm practically giving you the keys to a brand new Aston Martin and sending you off for a little joyride. I can't believe you're objecting to that?"

"Objecting doesn't really seem like the right word. I just want to be cautious. Look, I know you made it clear last night that you want this for us, but I'm still trying to make sure it's healthy."

"Of course it's not healthy, but that's what makes it fun."

He made an obvious face of disapproval that she was taking his concern so lightheartedly. She took a serious tone as she placed her hand on his arm and looked deep in his eyes.

"I told you last night that I trust that you won't go too far, and I know you won't. You've been nothing but a caring, protective brother, and I just want to see you have some fun. That's what this is, alright?"

He returned a halfhearted nod.

"Alright, then." Bree took a step back, folding her arms. "Now off with your shirt, mister." She flared him a challenging look, as if asking, 'What are you waiting for?'

He reluctantly pulled off his sweat-saturated tee. "There. You satisfied, Ma'am?"

"I most certainly am. Me likey much better," she said, smiling goofily at him. "You know, you're pretty hot when you're all sweaty like that."

Josh really rarely considered himself 'studly, ' as Bree so affectionately referred to him. He'd never aspired to be the size of an offensive lineman. Years of running kept him toned, like a well-engineered motorcycle. Minimal weight for maximum power and endurance. If anything, he saw himself a tad on the skinny side, but he was flattered that Bree enjoyed looking. Her hungry gaze almost made him uncomfortable as she stared at him and absentmindedly nibbled her fingertip.

He shifted around nervously; it took some time getting used to her blatantly ogling him. But since she'd made it clear that perving was totally acceptable, he took the opportunity to stare right back. After all, she did look amazing in her bikini.

Her top covered the gentle slopes of her chest, but left little to the imagination as it clung tightly to her. Remembering how fantastic her nipples looked in her threadbare top from the other night, he found himself wondering what they'd look like shimmering in the golden sun. As his gaze dropped to follow the line of her navel, he noticed how low her bottoms sat on her hips.

Almost instinctively, Bree knew what he wanted to see next. Daintily sweeping a loose tress of hair behind her ear, she coyly smiled and turned her back to him.

His lips parted as she turned. Like the top, her bottoms clung to her tightly, but could constrain neither the backside junction of her thighs nor her gorgeous crevice.

"So, did you find these bottoms in the little girls section?" he asked, sarcastically.

She smiled and demurely peered over her shoulder, down to her ass. "What, you think they're too small?"

"Well, I certainly wouldn't want you to wear them to the beach, but ... since we're being so honest with each other, I think you look fantastic in them."

"Yeah, they're definitely too small, but you make them look good. So I guess it's alright," he said, smiling.

"Thanks," she happily chirped. Her heart raced as she turned forward. The provocative display was turning her on beyond belief, especially since she knew exactly what he could see. She'd gone to the effort of checking herself out in the mirror before coming outside in the first place. She spent nearly ten minutes shifting the barely concealing fabric until she showed exactly what she wanted.

The whole thing felt so delectably naughty; letting his eyes prowl over her. The fact that her backside was turned to him so she couldn't see his face made it all the more exciting. Bree could almost feel his eyes searing her flesh as he gazed. Eventually her nipples erected into hardened pencil eraser-like nubs, straining the fabric of her top even further. "Enjoying the view back there?" she asked.

"Yes," he husked, totally fixated on her gorgeous bottom. His hands instinctively went to the small of her back, then trailed down to follow the supple silhouette of her hips. Bree happily cooed at his caress. He was tentative and delicate in a manner she felt matched his personality.

"Such a good brother, remembering mandate number one. How come you never told me before you were an ass man?"