Reunited

This story is part 1 of my Reunited series.

Amy drives to see her brother, Jamie after she is cheated on by her ex-boyfriend. The only thing being she hasn't seen Jamie is seven months and things aren't the same as she remembers...

All characters are over the age of 18.

Thank you Barelyawriter for editing this part.

*

Part 1

I found it difficult to climb out of the car. People strolled past, not even noticing me as I sat in the driver's seat, my hands gripping the steering wheel so hard that my fingers had turned white. It had been more than twenty minutes since I pulled into the parking space, but the nerve to climb out of the car and head upstairs had disappeared the instant I killed the engine. How was I supposed to go upstairs and face him? The last time we had spoken had ended horrible, and I had regretted everything I had said to him and had wished to take them back. But that was the thing with words, once they were spoken you couldn't reverse time and stop yourself from saying it, they were out there.

Seven months ago, I had made the decision to move out of my parent's place and in with my boyfriend, Mark. We had been dating for a year and a half, and I had always thought that marriage would be in our future. My brain was so obsessed with the idea of love, getting married, and having kids that I was blind to the visible signs that Mark was only keeping me around for sex. But it wasn't just me, Mark had three other girls that he regularly visited every week to get his rocks off even more.

My older brother, Jamie, who I had always considered my best friend, tried to show me the truth. He had never liked Mark and had been honest with me about his distrust towards Mark. I just figured, that like every big brother, he wanted to protect me and that he was overreacting. When I announced at our weekly family dinner that I was going to move into an apartment with Mark, Jamie didn't take it well. The ordinarily happy weekly meal descended into an argument between Jamie and I. There was no laughter, no movie afterwards, only the sound of Jamie slamming the door as he stormed out of the house telling me that when Mark broke my heart, he didn't want to hear it.

For seven months, I believed that Jamie was wrong and that he would be the one who would come crawling back to me. But no. A day earlier, I came home early from a work trip, which had sent me to New York for two weeks. The two weeks had been exciting, but I had missed Mark, we had spoken on the phone daily and had virtual sexy time, but I was aching to get back to him and have him take me for real. Being able to head home two days earlier than expected, I stopped at Victoria Secret. I brought a dark red lace set of bra and panties that would have any boy drooling. I slipped on the underwear in the bathroom, covered myself with nothing but my coat, and drove back to the apartment as quickly as possible.

To keep a painful story short, I walked through the front door and found Mark balls deep inside a redhead who was on all fours with her mouth wrapped around another guys cock who I also didn't know. I had been so shocked at the sight before me that I had been able to leave or scream at them, all I could do was watch as Mark grunted and moaned before pulling out and shooting his cum all over her ass.

It was the man who was having his cock sucked by the redhead who noticed me. He smirked, winked and asked, "Are you here to join the party?"

Mark had spun around shocked; his mouth opened and closed several times, but nothing came out. No excuses, no nothing. He just rubbed the back of his head and looked between the people he'd been enjoying a threesome with and me.

My brain finally caught up, and my reaction surprised me. I burst out laughing, to the point I found it hard to breathe. I forced myself to leave the room and go straight to the bedroom. The laughing faded into sobs as I closed the bedroom door behind me, and I grabbed a suitcase to grab as much of my stuff as I could. Underwear, socks, pants, shirts, shoes. I shoved all of it into the bag, and when that was full, I grabbed another bag and did the same thing.

I was alone, sobbing as I packed my bags, and Mark never once came to find me. I took off my jacket and slipped on some jeans and an oversized shirt and carried my suitcases to the front door.

Mark was sitting at the dining table; he had pulled on a pair of jeans, and his friends had disappeared. He didn't look upset or worried, he looked annoyed. I put down my bags and said, "I'll be back for the rest of my stuff once I have a place."

He nodded. "Sure."

"I will let you know when I am coming so that you can make sure that you aren't here," I said.

He nodded again. "Of course."

A typical couple would have yelled. A relationship didn't end with few words and no emotion between the two. My chest hurt, but the pain wasn't for Mark. Finding him fucking some other slut didn't make me angry at him, all I felt was anger at myself. I had been so stupid, and now I was the one who had to go home and admit I was wrong.

Driving to my parents would have been the most comfortable option. Neither of them would judge, and they had always told us that we could always come home. I could have shown up in any condition, and I would be welcomed home, cuddled by my mum while my dad would put my stuff in my old room. No questions asked. But I didn't want my parents.

I had stuffed my bags into the boot of my cars, and all I wanted was to see Jamie. Seven months of no communication and the only thing I wanted was my best friend, my brother. I told myself to just do it, go and see him.

Jamie was six hours away; he had moved to LA for his job two years ago and had always made regular flight trips to visit me in San Francisco, and I would do the same. I had never driven there before. But there was no way a plane would let me load two hefty bags without charging a fortune.

So, I drove—all the way down the I-5 from San Francisco to Los Angeles. The sun had started to set by the time I parked my car outside of his apartment complex. Guest parking on the street was valid for three hours, and I had already spent 20 minutes sitting in my car trying to find the will to go upstairs.

I leant my head against the wheel and closed my eyes. Jamie was my brother, we loved each other, and siblings fort all the time. I would walk upstairs, and he would be overjoyed to see me, he would hug me and tell me I was stupid for thinking he hated me. That was what I wanted. But it had also been seven months.

A tap on my window startled me. I jumped and let out a small squeak as I turned to the window. The bright blue eyes that belonged to Jamie were staring at me through my window. I wiped at my eyes to make sure I wasn't dreaming before taking a breath and rolling down my window.

"You lost?" he asked me.

I wanted to cry. Jamie's eyes were filled with warmth and humour that I had missed seeing. He always had this twinkle in his eye, and it seemed to shine when he looked at me. It made me feel special that I was the only one who got that look.

I managed to find my voice. "Not lost, just scared."

"Of what?" he asked.

The fear bubbled inside me, and tears pooled in my eyes. I sniffed and said, "That my brother hates me."

Jamie leant against the car door, and his hand reached forward to touch my cheek. His thumb caught a tear as it escaped, and he wiped it away. "I don't hate you."

His touch was comforting. I allowed myself to enjoy the sensation of his hand against my face and turned to gently place a miss on his palm. "I wouldn't blame you if you did," I said.

He pulled back his hand and said, "Come upstairs. We can talk over some wine."

I nodded and wound up the window.

Climbing the stairs, I felt the fear fall away. Jamie walked ahead of me with both of my suitcases, one in either hand. Just like the gentleman that Dad had engraved into him, Jamie wouldn't let me carry either of them. I followed with my handbag over my shoulder and eyes tracing every inch of him, trying to get a good image just in case things didn't go well.

Jamie lived on the third floor of a small apartment complex. Each floor had two apartments, both big enough for couples and small families. Jamie hadn't needed three bedrooms, but for the price of the place and the location not too far away from one of the local beaches, he couldn't say no.

He opened the door, and we stepped into the open living space. The living room sat to the right of the door, a large L shaped couch was placed around an old fireplace that had been painted over, and then behind that was the dining table. It was an old outdoor picnic table, the kinds you would find in parks, and it had been smoothed and repainted. Windows lined the walls around the living and dining area, and the setting sun was now shining in giving the room an orange glow. To the left was the kitchen, a large island counter sat in the centre, and just past that was a small hallway.

Jamie placed my bags near the arch and stepped into the kitchen. Without a word, he pulled out two stemless wine glasses and a bottle of red from the small wine rack he had sitting on the bench. He cracked it open and poured a glass for each of us before walking back over to me and giving me mine.

"Thank you," I said.

He offered me a soft smile before moving to the couch. He dropped onto the end and said, "You look like hell."

The comment made me laugh. "Considering I just drove six hours to come and see you, I think I look pretty good." I put my handbag down beside the coffee table and took a seat facing him on the couch.

"Why did you?" he asked.

"Why did I drive six hours?"

He nodded. "That, and why come see me?"

"Because I fucked up," I said. I watched Jamie as he nodded his head to my words and took a sip of his wine. "Because you were right, and I was wrong. I ruined the best relationship I had in my life all because I was stupid enough to believe that some motherfucker loved me." The pain burst in my chest, and I couldn't stop the tears that followed. The sobbing wracked my body, and I couldn't stop myself as the pain of it all washed over me.

I felt Jamie move. He put down his wine glass, and he slid across the couch to sit beside me. He pulled me in between his legs and wrapped his arms around me. Tucking my head under his chin, he said, "You're not stupid for wanting to be loved."

"No, I'm stupid for believing that Mark would think I'm enough," I blubbered.

Jamie kissed my head. "No. Mark is an asshole and was never good enough for you."

I wrapped my arms around Jamie's stomach and took a deep breath. Being hugged by him helped me calm down, the sobbing and tears slowed, and I allowed my eyes to close and inhaled in his scent. "I'm sorry I yelled," I said.

"Me too."

We stayed like that for a short time. Just holding on until it became uncomfortable and I needed to move. I shifted back and wiped the tear stains from my cheeks. "I'm a mess."

Jamie smiled. "Nothing's changed then." The teasing tone warmed me. "You hungry? I could go for some pizza."

I nodded. "Yes! I need some pepperoni with extra cheese to go with my wine."

Being back with Jamie felt right. I had spent seven months without him, and it felt like something had always been missing. Sitting beside him, talking, eating pizza and drinking wine, filled in the hole he had left. It was easy to forget what had sent me back to him.

We consumed the whole bottle of wine, most of the pizza and ended up sharing his bed. It was something we had done as children when one of us was sad we would share a bed and just hold onto one another. As we grew up our parents had frowned and told us that it was odd for teens to do such a thing, so instead, we snuck in once our parents were asleep and back out before they came to wake us up in the morning. It had been a long time since I had fallen asleep snuggled against his chest, but it had felt right.

I had woken up the next morning, my head using one of Jamie's arms as a pillow. My back was flush against his front, and his other arm was cupped around my stomach, just below my breasts. Our legs were tangled, and his nose buried into my hair. I had slept better than I could remember. Yesterday had been mentally exhausting, but waking up as the morning light illuminated the bedroom, I felt wide awake.

Jamie shifted, and his arm tightened around me. His hips moved, and I felt something prod against my bottom. My eyes went wide as I realised that he was hard. His cock was hard and rubbing against my butt. In our tipsy state, after our bottle of wine, we had managed to dress somewhat for bed. I had kicked off my sweats, and unclipped my bra, leaving me in the oversized shirt and red lace panties I had initially bought for Mark. The shirt hung low down close to my knees, so I hadn't been too concerned about Jamie seeing them. And Jamie had stripped to his boxers.

My first instinct was to freeze. Jamie was asleep and probably had no idea that he was rubbing his morning wood against his sister. I could attempt to slip from his grip without waking him and just pretend it didn't happen, he would probably be embarrassed. But at the same time, I was comfortable. I didn't want to leave the comfort of Jamie's arms just yet. And while I probably wouldn't admit it to anyone allowed, feeling his hard cock rub against me felt good.

I shifted to try and move my bottom away from him, just in case he woke up, but Jamie moved again and pulled me back. I bit back a gasp as his cock caused friction to shoot straight through my lady parts. Without the separation of Jamie's boxers, he cock would have been rubbing against my lace covered folds. The panties were so thin that if his cock did slip from their confines, he would no doubt be able to slip inside me.

I bit down on my lip as the idea of Jamie's cock touching me sent chills through my body. What on earth was my brain doing? He was my brother. Yet here we were, he held me against his body, his hard cock rubbing against my ass. He was asleep, for god sakes.

Jamie let out and groan, and his hips pushed against me against. His hard cock pressed against my folds and a pull a loud gasp from me. It was loud enough that Jamie woke up. His grip loosened, and he stilled.

I couldn't bear to look at him. What would he think? He was rock hard, rubbing his cock against my ass cheeks and now wet folds in his sleep and I had done nothing but lay there imagining what it might feel like if he just slipped inside me.

"Fuck." It fell from his lips as a whisper. "I'm sorry, shit." He slid from the bed and then out of the room.

Tears filled my eyes, and I rolled onto my back. Why was I crying? I wiped my eyes and grabbed the pillow Jamie had been sleeping on. I buried my face into and breathed his scent. Was I sad because he left? It had sent shivers through me. The idea of Jamie inside of me had made me wet. A small ache had formed inside of me, and I wanted him to soothe it.

I groaned and shook my head. Mark had never made me feel this bothered by something so little. He had always had to play with me, finger me, pinch my nipples to get me wet but all Jamie had done was rub against me.

My hand pulled up my shirt and slid under the lace material. One finger slipped across my folds. They were slick and allowed my finger to slide inside the lips and rub it over my clit. I do that twice, and I can already feel my slick pooling around my finger. I push in a second finger and allow my eyes to fall close as I rub over my clit again and again. A gasp falls from my mouth, and Jamie's blue eyes pop into my mind. It's hard to not picture his fingers inside me, rubbing my clit. I groan and add a third finger.

I shiver as I imagine Jamie's blue eyes staring into mine as he plunges his fingers inside of me. I want to grab him and beg him to fuck me with his cock. It had felt so big rubbing against my ass, and now all I wanted was to feel it inside me, stretching me, fucking me.

My walls tightened around my fingers and the ache built inside me. I inhaled the scent of Jamie from his pillow and bit down on it as my orgasm hit me. It crashed over me and a groan, muffled by the pillow, came out of me. My fluids gushed over my hand, and I whimpered as I slowly rubbed at my clit as the last wave of pleasure flowed out.

I lay there for a moment and waited for the shame, the guilt, the disgust to wash over me, but it didn't happen. All that was there was a longing for Jamie to march back in, grab me and fuck me until I couldn't speak.

I pulled my hand from my panties and rolled back onto my back before sitting up. I listened but couldn't hear Jamie. I grabbed my pants from the floor and wiped my juices from my fingers before scrunching them up and walking out of his room.

My bags still sat near the archway, where Jamie had left them, and the bathroom door to my right was closed. I listened and heard the shower running. I grabbed my bags and placed them into the spare room. I stood there for a moment and decided that I would pretend nothing happened. Our relationship was just getting back on track, and he was my brother, I wouldn't fuck that up.

In the kitchen, I put on some coffee and decided to make breakfast. I found all the ingredients for pancakes and found a stack of chocolate. I mixed everything together, cut up the chocolate and mixed that into the batter and then set the pan on the stove. I had made enough pancakes for four people by the time Jamie entered the kitchen.

His hair was still damp, and he had only put on a pair of dark grey sweats. He stopped at the edge of the island and cleared his throat.

I smiled up at him and then turned back to the pancakes. If I stared for too long, I didn't think I would be able to stop myself from staring.

"I'm sorry about that," he said.

I just shrugged. "It's fine," I said. I really wanted to bend over and tell Jamie to do it again. I shook my head and flipped the last pancake onto the tray. "Hungry?" I asked.

"Yeah."

We sat down at the table, and I handed him a fresh cup of coffee, milk and two sugars. He smiled as he took a sip. "Chocolate chip pancakes, my favourite."

"I figured as a guest I should show my appreciation," I said.

Jamie said, "Amy, you're my sister. You are always welcome."

"I know. Just enjoy it." I cut a piece of pancake and popped it into my mouth. I watched as he did the same and found myself staring as his lips wrapped around the fork. The action as he wrapped his tongue around it went straight to my core.

I crossed my legs as the ache was earlier reappeared. What the fuck was wrong with me? I looked away and sipped my coffee and decided to try and keep my thoughts contained. "Do you have to work today?" I asked.

He nodded. "Yeah, just have one shoot though. A couple is doing some pregnancy shots, and they wanted to do it in the studio so it shouldn't take more than an hour or two."

I nodded in understanding. "Does George still work with you?"

"Yeah, he actually does full-time work now. He helps me with editing and printing the shots. He had also started doing some of the jobs too," said Jamie.

"That's awesome."

George was a sweet kid who had gotten mixed up with the wrong people. Jamie had met George after he was put into the big brother program after he got busted shoplifting and his mother hoped that they could find someone to help him find the right path. Jamie had bonded with the kid over their love of art and photography. He had gone from hanging out while Jamie took photos to working for Jamie. George had even ended up getting into university to study photography.

"Why don't you come with me to the studio? George should be there, you can catch up," he suggested.

"Absolutely."

We ate breakfast, and I managed to keep my inner desires under control. I managed to enjoy the natural conversation that flowed between us, Jamie chatted about everything and caught up on the things we had missed. It felt good, it felt right.