Page 52 of Kiss Me Tonight

All one hundred and thirty pounds of Willow Levi Lloyd land on my lap. I don’t even have time to process the fact that my sister has jumped me before she’s opening my laptop. Her back blocks my view, as does her massive hat, so all I see are her tanned shoulders and the tank top she stole from my closet three weeks ago and never returned. I buck my hips, trying to upheave her, but she holds on with enviable inner-thigh strength.

Oh, God.

“Willow.”

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“I see you changed up your regular password, dear sister,” she says, her voice muffled since she’s turned away from me.

I have zero regrets about taking desperate action in the face of inevitable humiliation.

My fingers pinch the skin at her waist, twisting hard in the same way we used to do to each other when we were kids and fighting over toys.

“Ow!” she shrieks now, batting at my hand. “Rude.”

“Willow”—I grab her hips and attempt to throw her off to the side, computer be damned—“you owe me after forgetting Topher at Kevin’s. Remember? You forgot to pick him up!”

If anything, her ass only grows heavier in my lap as she lets me take on her full weight.

The.Worst.

Tap! Tap! TAP TAP TAP!

I’m seeing my life flash before my eyes. It’s going to be horrible. I’m going to live in shame until the day I take my last breath. Which could be five minutes from now, given the chaotic way my heart is threatening to leap right out of my chest. And, honestly, it wasn’t my fault. Not really. The internet is a strange, strange place, and one site led to another which led to another, and the next thing I know I was—

“Aha! Topher’s birthday.” More tapping ensues, and I hope—oh, I friggin’ hope—she doesn’t get curious and click on one of the open internet tabs. “You are so predictable—”

The sounds of moaning and ass slapping explode in my small courtyard, overtaking the chirping of the birds and the rhythmic lull of the waves slipping over the sand.

“Aspen.”

Resigned, I close my eyes at the shock evident in my sister’s voice. “Please,” I whisper, heat charging its way up my throat, “please don’t.”

Because Willow’s favorite thing to do in life is torment me, I’m treated to thetap-tap-tapof the keyboard before the volume hikes up and I’m forced to listen to the play-by-play happening on the screen.

“Oh, Dominic! Dominic, right THERE!”

“Fuck yeah, baby. I’m gonna come all up inside you. You want this dick? How bad do you want this dick?”

More moaning. More ass slapping.

More moments of me wondering what I did to deserve a sister like Willow.

She leans forward, her butt squashing my bladder. “That’s not Dominic DaSilva.”

This could not get any worse.

I drop my head back. “No, it’s not.”

“Fan role-play?” She sounds incredibly impressed. “Good for him. I want to be famous enough one day that someone pretends to be me in a porno.”

“Yeah, baby, ride that cock. Ride it, yeahhhhh.”

Eyes closed in defeat, I beg, “Please turn it off.”

Willow pokes me in the thigh. “Hold on, he’s about to come.”

“I can’t take it anymore.”

---