Page 15 of Little Stranger

Maybe he wants to cuddle? He always wants to cuddle to sleep. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of anyone’s brother being so needy and constantly having to sleep beside their sister, but then our dynamic changed drastically when he placed my hand on his cock, the same cock I’d ground my ass against—reminding me that Ienjoyedthe forcefulness of him gripping my hand over the impressive length of him.

Oh God. I keep forgetting that happened and then my cheeks get all warm and tingly.

The torch is on, so I can see him lower to his knees in front of me, signing,Can I see you?

“You can see me?”

He shakes his head and comes closer, tugging at the collar of my sweater.Without this.And then he drops his hand to my thigh, nipping the material.And these.

My eyes widen. “Why?” I ask, feeling his breath hit my face from his proximity.

I want to see you,he signs.I promise not to touch you.

“I’m sure you’ve seen plenty of girls without clothes on.” I internally groan. Why did I need to sound like a jealous weirdo? “You don’t need to see me.”

But I pause as he shakes his head.No.

“You haven’t?”

No, he signs again.Plus, it’s your body I want to see. Why won’t you show me?

I fidget with the zip of the sleeping bag. “What if our parents catch us? You know it’s wrong.”

They won’t. We’ll hear them coming.

“But… I’m… Really?”

He blankly stares at me.

“I’m your sister.”

And that’s your war cry. Take your clothes off, Olivia.

I chew my lip. “I’ll do it, but under one condition.”

He looks intently at me, waiting.

“We make a game of it.” I smile and tip my head, leaning back on my elbows as if my heart isn’t about to beat out of my chest. “I ask you questions, and if you answer them honestly, I’ll take something off. If you don’t answer, or I know you’re lying, then you take something off.”

Fine, ask me something.

I sit up, hugging my knees. “Did you take drugs last night?”

He silently sighs.Yeah. Some of my friends were trying it, so I did too.He plucks the sleeve of my sweater.Take this off first.

“I think I get to decide what item of clothing comes off first, thank you very much,” I reply, kicking off one of my shoes. “And don’t take drugs. They’re bad for you—way worse than smoking cigarettes.”

He soundlessly laughs.

I wish I could hear it. I’m certain it would be deep and rich. Going by his smile, I just know that hearing it would melt my heart or send me to the woods to slip my hand between my thighs.

“Do you remember how to talk?” I ask. “Like, do you know how to pronounce words and stuff?”

A little. I haven’t spoken out loud for a long time.

He rolls his eyes when I kick another shoe off.

“Is your voice deep?”

---