Page 18 of Silks

I headed toward the tee, my stomach flip-flopping with a jittery feeling, like I’d mainlined several cups of espresso. There was something else singing through my blood, and I recognized that feeling for what it was.

Excitement.

I hadn’t been excited about anything in a long time. Not the promotion to Director at work. Not the new office. Not the new salary. Not Forbes’ 30 Under 30 To Watch. Not any of the attention I got. Not knowing I could have any woman in my office or in the bar on her knees in seconds.

But everything changed the moment my sister came back to Louisville.

Without Ophelia around, it was like I was adrift. Outwardly, I looked like I had everything. The job, the looks, the women. Even a pretty goddamn good golf handicap. But without my sister there to moor me, I was centerless, like a cell without a nucleus, just bouncing around doing absolutely random shit without it meaning anything.

With my twin back in town, everything was sharp and clear.

The apathetic fog I had been in for months, for years, was instantly gone.

God, I couldn’t let her go back to Chicago. I wasn’t physically able to watch her leave again and not stop her. No matter what I had to do.

And there she was in front of me on the green, as that jackass Chet attempted to give her putting pointers, his hand on her hip like some fucking corny old movie.

Ophelia was dressed in one of those tiny fluorescent golfer skirts that I always thought looked cheesy as fuck before, but everything looks good on Ophelia. It’s a little tight on her, her tits straining at the tight white shirt. My mouth immediately goes dry to see her. I’m very used to hiding my desire for my twin, but the fact that I haven’t seen her in a few years makes me vulnerable, my cock twitching at the sight of her.

I ignore the rest of the group and go right up to where Chet is pointing down the fairway.

“Hands to yourself, Farnaby,” I said, as they lingered on Ophelia’s generous hips, his fingers drifting way too close to her round ass.

He jumps about a foot in the air and drops his hands from my sister.

“I was just giving her some pointers,” he said, and I can smell the flopsweat from here.

“I know what you were doing,” I said. “Go do it with someone else’s sister.”

Ophelia hissed as he tried to awkwardly extricate himself, pretending like he had to answer a non-existent call on his phone.

“What’s the matter?” she whispered angrily. “Why are you here? Did you think there were an insufficient number of insufferable finance douchebags around?”

Acting like she doesn’t give a shit about me makes me want to shake her until she tells me why she ignored my calls, why she’s mad at me, why she won’t let me fix whatever is wrong.

Her leaving Louisville was the most painful thing that’s ever happened to me, and I deadened it with booze and random ass, but suddenly now that she’s here it’s like all my practice controlling myself is gone. That muscle memory isn’t there anymore.

All that’s there is a low, deep hunger for her, craving her so badly that no amount of time this weekend could possibly be enough. I will find a way to make her stay with me.

“I want to fuck Chet,” my sister said. “And you’re making it very difficult.”