Thick As Thieves Ch. 03

As always, all characters are 18+. Another thank you to R.P for editing the story. Enjoy!

*****

I sat silently throughout the entire flight. Due to the shock I felt, I couldn't say anything. My mind was cluttered with the things that had happened in the past few hours. I should be happy. Right? We're not actually related. But...I'm not my mother's daughter? Why didn't they tell us?

I had millions of questions going through my mind. And from the tense look I saw on Nate's face when I turned to look at him my dad hadn't told him yet. My mom sat there, looking broken and trying not to cry.

There was total silence; silence when we got our luggage; when we got shuttled to our car; when we got in the car. And everything within the car was still on the drive home from the airport.

About half way through I felt a hand touch mine. Not even bothering to notice it was Nate's I took it away and stared out the window, rethinking my entire life.

I'm the daughter of some rich asshole, who could also be a criminal. And I've spent my entire life stealing from men and women like him. I'm supposed to be one of them. Fuck! Who the hell am I?!

When we pulled up to the house, it didn't feel like home anymore. My parents weren't my parents; my room won't really be my room. Was my name even my birthname?

The only person I knew to be real and true was Nate. And only then because we just started an affair, not because I was used to him being my brother. And even then, in the back of my mind a voice was saying, He's just a stranger you happened to grow up with.

I was the last one to leave the car. I found myself facing towards town instead of home.

"Anya?" Nate tried to take my hand. I withdrew and looked at him.

"I-I...I can't be here right now," I breathed. I couldn't even find my fucking voice!

"Baby, please come inside." I turned my attention to my mom's shaky voice.

"I'm not your baby!" I snapped at her. "I'm not your baby," I repeated less harshly. My voice got stuck again and I couldn't stay still anymore. I needed to move. I started walking away.

"Anya?" Nate called out, confused. I stopped, only for a moment, to look at him. His face...his worried and confused face. Seeing it broke my heart. I didn't know what to do. I marched up to him and gave him my lips. He froze for a moment, still not knowing the truth and surprised by my unapologetic boldness.

"I'll come back," I whispered. "I promise." He looked down at me.

"An," he whispered, taking me by the hips. "What's going on?" There was total confusion on his face and in his voice. I looked toward my par...Wayne and Marge.

"Ask them," I answered curtly. I turned and walked away, tears staining my cheeks. I was walking away from the love of my life. And it was breaking my heart.

****

I stared into the peppermint tea, a complimentary beverage provided by the local cafe/book store that I had fallen in love with right after I had started the reading phase of my life. I had gone there to use one of the computers for research into who I really was...or into who my mom actually was. But firstly, it would be hard to even begin without names. And secondly, I was still debating whether I really wanted to know more or not. I had taken my tea out to the sidewalk cafe to think.

"Anya?" I heard a voice. I turned my head to see...Jesse!

"Get the fuck away from me!" I hissed with a terrifying calmness that even scared myself. He should have been scared...I should have been scared. I had no clue what I'd do if he made me snap at that moment. He put his hands up.

"I'm sorry for the way I acted," he said. "I really am."

"Not accepted," I replied, still sounding dangerously calm. "Get out of my face."

"I think you need to know...Nate had some pretty messed up drawings..." he began.

"Of me?" I interrupted, not caring what he had to say about it. "On a jump drive? Yeah, I know. And I fucked him for it." When I looked back at him, he looked horrified.

"That's si...!" he began, but stopped.

"Sick?" I finished for him. "Wrong? Would it be better if I said he fucked me? No? That's worse, isn't it?" I had never done anything like this before. The angry words I wanted to say so badly were being said to him rather than to my journal. I knew I shouldn't be taking my frustrations out on Jesse. But it was as if I couldn't stop myself. Once the words started spewing forth, they wouldn't stop.

"Or is this fucked up conversation turning you on because you're a borderline rapist?" I spat at him.

"You're the one sleeping with your brother..."

"He's not my brother," I growled. "There. It's out. Those three simple words make it all okay. Don't they?" His expression changed from horrified and offended to one of utter confusion.

"Oh, wait," I said as if a sudden thought had occurred to me. "They don't really...because now I have no idea who the fuck I am!" I laughed sarcastically. After a long moment of silence, I realized how ridiculous I was being.

"You're one fucked up bitch, Anya." He tried to walk past me. I tripped him before grabbing his shoulder and aiming his fall towards the pavement. He hit the pavement with a sound that brought me some satisfaction. He looked up at me, surprised and pissed off.

"I know." I calmly grabbed my tea and walked away again. It was then I saw a police officer shouting at me and starting to come over. I reluctantly put my tea down, still feeling pissed.

"Fuck me!" I shouted before sprinting in the opposite direction, up the hill towards an alleyway. Out of nowhere a cruiser's siren started blaring. I turned to see the officer now shouting in a different direction. I stopped, dumbfounded by the scene playing out before me. The police cruiser was rolling down the hill, the siren still blaring. It appeared someone had turned the siren on and released the parking brake. Just as it dawned on me who it might have been, Nate came into sight, rushing up towards me.

"Okay," he panted. He took my arm and guided me into the alleyway, taking a couple turns so if the officer came looking he wouldn't be able to find us. After we took a second to look around, he pulled me to him, kissing the life out of me...or perhaps into me.

"Listen to me," he said sternly. "You're still a part of this family, no matter what. So what if we took you? So what if you're not blood related? 'Blood is thicker than water' is supposed to mean that the family you identify with the most is more important than who gave birth to you." He continued to look into my eyes, holding me tightly, hoping his words would penetrate the bitterness I felt.

"I'm yours, Anya," he continued. "Now that we know the truth, we can be together. And it doesn't have to affect who you are in this family. If anyone tries to demote you in any way, to hell with them. Mom and Dad aren't ever going to let you go...and neither will I," he swore.

I looked at him, not knowing what to say. He kissed my forehead.

"Take your time. Think about whatever it is you want to. Just don't ever think that Mom and Dad aren't your parents. Or that you need to justify your place with us. We're with you. You're a part of us, and we're a part of you. I just needed you to know that." I looked up at him. His words were just what I needed to hear. But I still needed time to process this; and a part of me still wanted to see my real parents. He stared at me for a moment.

"Jessica Kentwood," he stated.

"What?" I asked, puzzled.

"That's your birth name," he explained. "Mom said you might want to research everything yourself." There was a bit of worry in his expression. I nodded.

"I'm not leaving. But she was right. I want to see it for myself," I explained. He held his palm to my cheek.

"You probably want to be left alone," he suggested.

"I do," I agreed. "But I also promised you I'd be home. I will be...soon," I swore.

Jonathan

I heard my door open behind me. Anya came in quietly. She looked better than she had earlier at least.

I stood, wrapping my arms around her. She squeezed me tightly.

"Well, I'm Jessica Kentwood," she said. "...parents Mark Kentwood and Carice Pennington. Apparently I also have an actual older brothe..." I interrupted her with a kiss.

"Shh." I continued kissing her; little pecks over her face, her neck, her shoulders. Little sighs of relief escaped from me between kisses. She melted into me, and I just held her there for a while. She was back where she belonged.

"Did you talk to Mom and Dad?" I asked. She nodded.

"They're gonna help us find a place together." She smiled. I couldn't help but smile too. Everything was working out. Everything was going to be okay. Just as this thought came I felt her lips on my neck. I smiled broader.

"You're playing with fire, baby girl," I whispered. She kept pressing her warm, soft lips against my neck. I backed her up against my dresser, forcing her hands behind her, and tying them up with the same scarf I had used in Mexico. She smiled, ready for whatever I had planned. With my cock getting harder by the second I continued to kiss her, taking my time, tasting her.

After a few minutes of this I backed up and placed my hands on her shoulders, grabbing her shirt.

"How do you feel about this unnecessary piece of clothing?" I asked with a smirk. She chuckled.

"It's pretty much useless, isn't it?" she replied with a grin. I smiled and grabbed a little boxcutter knife from the dresser. I always kept something there to open up stubborn packages Luckily this package wouldn't be stubborn at all.

She watched as I began to carefully cut her shirt off. Then I carefully ran the blade down the seam of one leg, cutting open her jeans. Something about this was so goddamn hot! And from the way she shivered I knew she was enjoying it as well.

When she was clad only in her bra and panties, I quickly cut the straps and then the front of her bra. The panties I could, and would rip off with my hands.

She expected me to start kissing her again; and I wanted to. But I also wanted to tease her.

I backed away, slowly taking off my clothes while standing beside my bed.

"Lay down," I ordered softly. She did so eagerly and waited patiently. Instead of doing what she (and admittedly, I) wanted, I grabbed a small bottle of lotion, and poured some into my hand. She looked at me as I began rubbing it onto my cock, stroking myself slowly; teasing her and myself.

"Don't you want my mouth?" she asked.

Yes, I did. I really fucking wanted it!

"Just relax," I said instead. We were both so turned on it was agonizing. Her watching me slowly jerk myself, me having to hold back.

But I knew what I wanted. I wanted her to desperately ride me. She doesn't like it on top. She had told me she doesn't even like the thought of being on top. Whenever we talked about sex, she always wanted to be bent over or below. She'd work hard for me, I knew. But I wanted to have her fuck me for herself rather than just for my pleasure. I watched her squirm on my bed.

"Do you want me in a different position?" she asked more desperately. The torture was getting to her. But I didn't really care now. I was using the image of her on top of me to hold myself back. I wanted that picture to be a reality. I wanted her gasping for breath while bouncing up and down on me, badly needing and craving an orgasm. I wanted her to go so hard she'd be fucked out when she came. When she would cum I wanted to flip her onto her back, grab her tied hands with one of my own, slap her ass as hard as I could with the other, and fuck her as hard as I could while doing so. She was almost desperate enough.

"Spread your legs," I ordered. Without even the slightest hesitation she did as I asked. I leaned down, kissing her saturated panties, right over her tight hole. I smelled the muskiness of her passion. She squirmed more and moaned.

"Ple-e-ea-a-ase fuck me!" she begged. I chuckled and bit into her thigh, making her shiver more.

"I don't know if you want to be filled," I teased.

"Na-a-at-te!" she cried. "I want to be filled! I want to be filled so badly! Please?!" She whimpered out her plea. With her words, I brought my hands up off my cock and ripped her panties off. She moaned as I did; emphasizing her need for my cock, her need to be filled.

I stood, grabbing the lotion again and putting a pillow lower so it'd be easier to rest her head.

"On your stomach," I ordered softly. She flipped herself over so quickly she was no more than a blur. The blink of an eye would have missed her actions.

In her desperation she lifted her ass up while keeping her head down, only to have me gently lower her down again with my hand. She whimpered aloud, using that for a complaint rather than words. I smiled and began rubbing her back with the lotion spread on my hands. She was so worked up that even my hands on her back made her moan with pleasure. I made sure to take my time, easing the tension in her muscles, concentrating on her lower back and shoulders. She melted into my fingers momentarily, only to tense up again, her body resisting the relaxation due to her arousal taking over from within.

"Turn over," I smiled. She did as I asked, and I started massaging her shoulders again. From the look on her face I knew that she was aching for more. I only gave in a little, rubbing her breasts, taking my time to make her nipples hard. I pinched them lightly and she bit her lip, holding back more moans. When I pinched harder she let out a long whimper. My cock twitched at the sound and I left one hand on her stomach while laying the other on her pussy. She was soaking.

"I'll do whatever you want," she pleaded. As a test I plunged a finger into her pussy. To my satisfaction I didn't have to move it. She desperately began pumping her hips against my hand, moaning as she did so. I let her do it, but never used more than one finger. I would slowly draw it back to see what she would do. She kept following.

I quickly pulled my finger from her pussy, loving the squeal that came from her as my finger left her warm and wet hole. Before she could complain more I crawled next to her, sitting up and getting ready for her.

"Ride me!" I demanded. I expected some hesitation, or even perhaps a little resistance. But without protest she straddled me, awkwardly aiming my cock at her opening with her tied hands.

Her enthusiasm took me off guard, and my body acted on instinct. My hips pushed up, driving my cock into her wanton pussy as she lowered herself onto me, and my hands grabbed her big round ass as she moaned. She quickly balanced herself and slowly started, adjusting herself to the position and finding a rhythm.

Once she had attained proper position and motion she began bouncing alike a basketball being dribbled by a player making a drive to the basket. Up and down, hard and fast. I growled loudly and dug my nails into her ass. Her warm tight pussy tugged at me, and I could feel her ass shake every time her hips met mine. Even the pressure on my hips was incredible. It almost made it more enjoyable.

"Don't hold back, baby" I moaned. "Fuck me to cum." She kept going, not taking any breaks or changing the pace.

I'll have to make her do this more often!

"Nate. I'm so fucking close!" she groaned through her teeth. I moved my hips with hers, matching her rhythm so it was even faster and harder.

Suddenly I felt her pussy start to convulse and she leaned back, supporting herself with her bound hands, as her orgasm began washing over her. I grabbed her hips and kept lifting then pulling her to me while fucking her from underneath. I wanted her to squirt again.

She almost screamed, moaning loudly as I watched the clear liquid escape her pussy. It was agonizing not to cum at that precise moment. But I held back, gritting my teeth and squeezing her with my hands.

She jumped off and positioned herself on her hands and knees. I could see her thighs and back twitching from her ongoing orgasm. I could hear her breath coming in shudders. I took a moment myself to try and calm down. I wanted her to cum again.

When we were both ready I moved so that she could reposition herself. She responded by doing what I wanted without my even having to utter a word. I smiled and took the scarf holding her hands in one of my own before aiming my cock at her pussy again.

"Ready?" I asked with a grin.

"Yes, baby," she moaned. I thrust myself back into her with one powerful stroke and began fucking her as hard as I could, pulling on her arms as our bodies slapped together. She moaned and cried into the pillow, occasionally yelping as my hand came down on her ass.

Fuck! This is what I need!

"Na-a-at-te!" she cried again. I was close now too.

"Cum with me!" I growled. "Cum with me, Anya!" She kept pace with me until suddenly we were both shouting in climax. When she convulsed I slipped out of her wetness. I quickly stroked myself and came on her trembling ass.

I was ready to collapse, but I needed to clean up. She felt me using her ass to steady myself.

"I'll take care of it," she said, still a little breathless.

"No, I got it." She turned and guided me down under the blankets before kissing my forehead.

"I got it this time." She smiled and rushed off into the washroom. I watched her clean up the blanket a little before throwing the towel in the laundry bin. She then crawled in next to me. I chuckled and pulled her close, spooning her, basking in the afterglow.

"Admittedly, there's something I wanted to say to you," she began. "But I wasn't sure how you'd react." I kissed the top of her head.

"I'm sure I'll be fine with it," I replied. She took a deep breath and braced herself.

"I want to meet my mom."

Nate

I didn't quite know how to react when she said it. For a while I remained silent, rubbing her shoulder, showing her that I wasn't mad, but...surprised.

To be honest, if it were me I'd want to meet my own mother too. But the thought of her leaving to go meet her real family...it stirred a sort of jealousy in me. Maybe not jealousy...maybe more of a worry. I couldn't help but think about what would happen if she decided she wanted to stay with her birth mother instead of my parents and me. What if she ends up liking her family better?

"I understand if you don't want me to. But...I mean...I..." She struggled with her words. I kissed her neck.

"I understand. I would want to do the same thing if I were in your position," I replied. She turned over and held me.

"But you don't want me to leave, do you?" she asked. I took a deep breath.

"I don't want you to leave me," I emphasised. She turned her face up, looking at me. And admittedly, despite the serious communication, I wanted to look at her breasts. She seemed to notice my wandering eyes with a chuckle.

"Want me to cover up?" she asked. I smiled lazily.

"I'm not a dog," I joked. "I don't just randomly act on every thought in my head, despite what our world thinks." She giggled.

"Ah yes..." After a short moment she changed her facial expression again.

"I'd never leave you, Jonathan Theo Blake," she vowed, using my full name. "I love you."

"I would never leave Mom and Dad either," she continued after a moment. "This life is fucked up. I know it is...and yet I love it. We've stuck together no matter what. And I'm thankful that I know I can always count on all of you. My love for Mom and Dad isn't going to fade or be overlapped by someone who happened to give birth to me. I know this is the weirdest thing to say right now, but Margret is my mom; Wayne is my dad; you are my brother. I can't just break the bond I have with you by leaving. You're in my blood." She looked at me.

"Metaphorically speaking," I chuckled. She laughed.

"The point I'm trying to make is that you are my family. But I also need to meet my biological family," she finished. I sat up with her.