Paris is the City of Love? I Beg to Differ ~ 003

It was after dinner, and my parents were watching some chick flick or romantic movie upstairs. I decided to watch the UFC fights in the basement with Jesse.

I showed him where the beer was and plonked myself down on the couch to order the fights. Damn Pay-Per-View.

"Hey, feet." I lifted my feet so Jesse could share the couch with me. I didn't really see it as an invasion of privacy, I felt like I'd known him forever.

We were watching pre-fight garbage when I decided to ask him the basics.

"How old are you?" I questioned.

"Twenty-seven. Why?"

"Just wondering. You look younger than you are. So how did you meet Cindy?" I felt like an interrogator but I had to know. In my opinion he was too good for my sister.

"At a bar. We were both a little drunk, but she's pretty and nice once you get to know her."

I snorted. "Are we talking about the same Cindy here?"

He laughed, a deep laugh. One that I found sexy. I shook my head at the thought. No, not happening. "Just a question, and you don't have to answer this, but why Cindy? You're a good-looking guy, you could have any girl you wanted. Let's face it, you could get an eighteen year old model if you wanted."

"I don't know. I mean, it's complicated." His voice sounded strained.

"Great sex huh?"

Again he laughed, and my heart lurched in my chest. "Our little secret but it's not. To be honest I've wanted to break up for quite some time, but this job of hers has been planned for a while. Plus she kept going on about how great her family was, so I just had to meet you guys."

I smirked. Cindy didn't have this guy's heart like she thought. "So do we live up to your expections?"

"You exceed them." He chuckled.

We watched the first two fights, making predictions, placing bets on them. For the Lesnar/Mir fight, he picked Lesnar by total knockout. Naturally I went with the underdog- Mir- by submission. I lost. The second bout St. Pierre/Alves, I won with my hopes on Alves, even though I secretly wanted St. Pierre to win. The final fight was between coaches Henderson and Bisping. I wagered on Bisping. Apparently it was the wrong decision because I lost that one too.

"So how much is that now?" Jesse nudged me.

"I didn't know we were playing for money! Can't I just do your chores or something for a month?" I cried out.

He chortled. "I don't do chores. That's your maid's job. I can think of something instead of money though."

"Like what?" I raised an eyebrow.

He leaned over and pressed his lips to mine. He started kissing me more and more passionately. I couldn't control myself and I started to return the kiss. His tongue licked my bottom lip and I allowed him entrance. We continued our make out session on the couch in that way for quite a while. Then his hand slid under my tank top, resting my my stomach muscles for a bit, thankfully my six pack is not well defined. As his hand began to travel up I broke the kiss. I was not ready, but at the same time I wanted it.

I pushed him off me, my cheeks burning with shame. Not shame in the way I originally thought, for making out with my sister's boyfriend. The shame was for wanting more. More than a kiss, maybe even all the way.

I mumbled good-night and ran off to my bedroom. I locked my door behind me, needing the privacy. I then buried my face into the pillow and screamed. It would be so like me to fall for what I can't have.