He was a good man, and he’d been amazing to her mother. They’d been together for two years, and the entire time both Janine and Sammi had been aware that he had a son of his own who was off at college on a scholarship. Her sixteen-year-old self had been wary of the eloquent black man that was suddenly in her life, fearful that he wanted to take her mother away; within six months, she didn’t see Quentin’s skin color anymore, just the dedication and love he felt not only for her mother, but for her, too.
It was strange to her how people still looked at them when they would go out together: a tall, handsome black man and two white women, one of which wore a wide, sparkling ring. Sammi thought that people that had issues with interracial relationships had gotten over themselves, but a simple trip to the grocery store sometimes proved her wrong.
She’d wondered what her mother saw in him at first, but he was an absolute gentleman; it was a shame that his son wasn’t. Sammi shot a glance at Diondre as he dropped into the chair beside her at the table, and he grinned and tossed his arm over the back of her chair.
“Hey there, sis. Anything exciting happen today?” His question was bland, and recalling their forbidden moments in the hallway not even three hours ago, her face flamed red. Remembering the way she’d longed for the feel of his mouth on her nipples caused a shiver to race up her spine and tightened the sensitive buds, and her scalp tingled.
* * *
Diondre’s smile widened as the quiet girl turned a pretty pink all over and shook her head, grabbing at her glass of tea. He wondered if that rosy color extended to the tasty swells that he’d felt earlier, and had to shift a little as his cock thickened in response to the images in his head. God, how he’d longed to taste them, too. And knowing no man had ever even seen what he had made him hunger for her that much more.
Jesus, man, you’re acting like some damn teenager again over this little girl! But then again she wasn’t so little; and, thankfully, far from a ‘girl’. He cleared his throat and shrugged at something his dad had said, and they started catching up on his classes and recent games. Both Janine and Sammi remained mostly quiet, and he shrugged at his dad’s raised brows.
Janine quietly watched her daughter, picking up on some odd emotion she couldn’t quite pin down. With a slight shake of her head, she decided that if Sammi wanted to talk about it, she’d come to her. Her baby was an adult now, and she wouldn’t try and coddle her, even if she did still live at home. She’d get some room, even though she didn’t ask for it.
“Oh, and a little birdie told me that it’s someone’s birthday next weekend!” Janine grinned. She looked between father and son, chuckling as Diondre laughed and rolled his eyes, throwing a napkin at his father.
“I’ll just bet that birdie is a pain in my ass!”
“How old will you be?” Sammi’s quiet question surprised him, and he sat back and looked at her, lips still wide in a smile.
“Twenty-five.” As Sammi’s brows arched, he added, “I graduate next year, and will probably be drafted into the Major Leagues, the way my agent is talking.”
Sammi nodded, her lips lifting slightly as she recalled that Diondre was a baseball player, one of the most sought-after on his team according to his father. Quentin often bragged about his son’s throwing arm, saying he could rival the best of the current pitchers on the major teams now.
“And the girls here say that I’m biased!” Quentin’s laughter was big and bold, just like the man himself, and he was quickly pelted with napkins and teasing comments.
Diondre rolled his eyes and finished off the last of his dinner, and stood. “If you all don’t care, I’m gonna step outside for a few. Get some fresh air and maybe take a walk.” Waved away, he nabbed his light jacket from the coat rack by the door and stepped outside.
In the silence of the early evening, he had nothing to distract himself from thoughts of Sammi.
He felt like an ass for the way he’d been behaving toward her earlier, but he didn’t ever recall having such an instant attraction to a chick ever. It unsettled him, the way he was immediately drawn to her like a magnet.
Normally, he’d have just flirted with her; leaning in close, whispering sweet nothings. Little touches here and there, lingering and soft. But no, not with this one. His step-sister, for crying out loud! He paused on the sidewalk, kicking a clod of dirt back into the grass.
What am I supposed to do with this, Big Man? He cast his glance upwards to the stars twinkling dimly in the light. Diondre hadn’t attended church services regularly in his life, but he was aware that cousins and such married and hooked up in the Bible. What’s the harm with having some fun with a step-sister, then?
‘Sammi ain’t that kind of girl, dumb ass.’
Scoffing at the quiet whispers of his conscience, he shrugged and turned down the street. He knew there was no use in arguing with himself. What little he knew of Janine, and from what his dad has told him, Sammi was a typical “good girl”. She wasn’t the casual-sex type, and definitely not the no-strings type of friend he’d gotten used to having at school.
‘There’s your choices, genius. Long-term, or leave her be.’
Now, damn it, was the process of choosing which was going to be the option that wouldn’t drive him—and the raging erections she gave him—out of his mind.
* * *
She was a shadowy silhouette on the back porch by the time he got home. He’d wandered around the neighborhood for a good hour before he headed back to the house, still unclear as to what he was going to do about the bewitching girl with whom he was sharing a home.
Leaning against the corner of the house, he watched her for a quiet moment as he listened to their parents laughter filtering out of the kitchen windows.
* * *
Something wasn’t adding up. Sammi frowned into the back yard, folding her arms onto the top of the porch railing, thinking—still? again?—of her new family member.
The intelligent, talented young man Quinten bragged about was a far cry from the bossy, insolent guy that barged in on her shower.