Wicked Games: An Erotica Novella

I didn’t have to be looking at my brother to know he sat across from me with an impatient glare on his brown face.

After leaving Tempest office, I had invited him to lunch because I needed to talk. Guilt had my ass in a chokehold and needed to tell somebody what I’d done. Not because I was feeling guilty about what I did. It was because I wasn’t feeling guilty about it. I had to tell someone though. Someone I could trust not to repeat what I said or tell what I did.

“This is the third time you said you fucked up. Tell me what you did before I reached across this table.” He threatened. There was levity in his tone, but also seriousness.

I kept my head down but chuckled.

“You’re so impatient. Im trying to figure out a way to say that I did something crazy, without sounding crazy.

He gritted, “Just say it. I’m wasting my lunch break here with you. I could be eating, or fucking my girl, but I’m doing neither since you said you needed to talk, now you won’t talk.

“I-“ I opened my mouth to speak. He quickly raised his hand interrupting me.” don’t say I fucked up again.” He challenged. “Blurt it the fuck out.”

Before saying anything I looked around the small diner I had chosen specifically because it was usually empty when I rode past it on the way home. Which is where I had to be in less than an hour. I leaned over the table. I brought Tempest a brand-new Jeep, I eased him in then blurted out the rest, quietly. “I also switched her birth control pills out with non-hormonal placebos a few weeks before I had you run down on the dude she works with.” Yes, I had sent my brother to intimidate my competition.

His hazel eyes bucked “Jason.”  He muttered my name in a whispered voice. He didn’t have to say anything else.. I heard the admonishment, disappointment and disbelief all in the way he said my name.

I looked up in time to watch a grimace slide from his face. He tucked his hands under the table. I’m sure to restrain himself.

“What kind of backwards shit, Jason?” He whispered harshly. You’re a newly signed NBA multimillionaire and you’re trying to trap a woman with a baby. That shit is supposed to be the other way around. Why would you do some shit like that?”

I didn’t even consider how illogical and entitled my next words would sound before they came out of my mouth. “Because she forced my hand.” Soon as they were fully out, I heard the audacity in them. But fuck it, it was true. I leaned back in my chair, avoiding the hand that Demetrius leveled at me head.

We both looked around, making sure nobody had seen my fully uniformed police officer brother take a swing at me. Our eyes crashed back together when we saw no one was paying any attention to us. Demetrius glared at me. “How did she force your hand, Jason? “

I frowned. Sitting back up right. I dragged my hands down my face before answering him.

“She was scared. Feeling guilty about what we did to her sister. I could feel her pulling away. I figured that if she got pregnant she’d have no choice but to be with me.” I wanted Tempest more than I wanted a professional basketball career and I wasn’t letting anybody keep me from her, even her.” I sounded so fucking whiney, but he was my big brother, so it was okay.

He cocked his head. “What did you all do to her sister?”

I explained how I spent months pretending to want one sister while waiting for other to give me a chance.

Demetrius let out a deep breath and shook his head. “you’re a fucking idiot. I know you got attachment issues but this is going a bit far. You should have taken all of this to your grave. Why are you even telling me?”

My shoulders slumped, “because you’re my big brother and I need advice?”

It was his turn to frown.

“Advice about what? Call your fucking therapist, or better yet don’t, she’ll probably baker act you because you sound crazy.” He said, referring to Doctor Jordan. I’d been going to therapy since I was ten. Kids didn’t just get found in the trash, after being born high on crack and grow into adults without problems. I had issues. Control issues, abandonment issues, separation anxiety, but they were under control, sorta. My family had a lot to do with why I wasn’t worse off.

“I think she’s pregnant, but she’s not telling me and I’m wondering if I should confront her about it.”

Tempest and I had been fucking nearly twice a day for weeks after I switched out her birth control with no break for a period. I started paying attention, her hips had rounded more. Her areolas had darkened to nearly pitch Black and she was complaining about them being tender. Google confirmed the symptoms. She had to know. Why wasn’t she telling me? Or maybe she didn’t know and I was being paranoid.

“Maybe you should wait until she’s sleeping and administer a blood test. They have those at home kits.”

I nodded. “I hadn’t thought about that….”

Demetrius scoffed and glared at me.

I ran his words back in my head and realized they had been dripping with sarcasm.

“Are you fucking crazy?” he snarled.

“Yes. Im fucking crazy I admit. She makes me crazy.” I’ve followed her. Threatened her, begged her. I want her so bad I’m willing to go further. Probably would have to go further after she found out what I’d been hiding from her. But I didn’t tell him any of that.

His radio went off before he could reply. He held up a finger signaling for me to wait.

I didn’t understand the codes he received from his dispatcher but I knew they meant he had to go.

When he stood he took a moment to lord over me and look down at me with disappointment creasing his face.

“I’m not talking to you anymore about this. I already risked my job by going by ol’e boy house for you. I don’t want to be further involved and end up having to arrest you. He tapped on the table. “When all this crazy shit comes out, don’t tell anybody I know. And I guess, congratulations.” He walked off leaving me exactly how he found me. With more problems than I had answers to.