Chapter 6 First Kiss - LUSTS OF THE FLESH

ZAYN

JANUARY, 2018

AGE 16

I’m taking down the Christmas lights from the trees outside because Dad will give me shit if they’re still up when he returns from work.

I should’ve done it earlier, but football practice ran late, and by the time I got home the sun was already setting.

The evening air is cool, and it feels good after sweating all day.

Twenty minutes later, and I'm done. I bend to grab the plastic bin full of tangled cords and ornaments, straightening up just as a movement in the house upstairs catches my eye.

It's from Ashleigh’s room, right above the garage. Her curtains are open a bit, and her bright light is on, so I can see her silhouette clear as day against the glow.

She’s naked.

Completely fucking naked.

For a second I remain where I am, frozen, the bin still in my hands, staring like an idiot.

She’s standing in front of her vanity mirror, her back to the window, brushing her hair.

I can see her curvy waist and the contours of her hips. She's not the timid little kid who showed up at our doorstep four years ago anymore. She’s… my goodness.

My groin tightens, and I mistakenly drop the bin.

Stupid girl. Doesn’t she know anyone walking by could see her? Doesn’t she know I’m right here?

Anger fills me up fast, masking whatever the hell else just stirred in my groin.

I want to storm upstairs and draw her curtains shut. I want to tell her to put some damn clothes on. But my feet don’t move from where they are.

I don't even bend down to pick up the bin. Because part of me, the part I’ve been trying to ignore for months, doesn’t want her to cover up.

It's crazy, but the feelings I've been having towards Ashleigh lately are wrong.

They are wrong in ways I can’t say out loud. In ways that make me want to avoid her at breakfast some mornings or take longer showers just to get my head straight.

It's hormones, I tell myself.

They've also taught it to us in school.

Puberty and some shit. I'm just some normal hormonal male teenager.

But most times it seems more than that.

Ashleigh has been different too. She teases me by wearing those tiny shorts around the house when Mum and Dad are at work.

She wears tight crop tops that hug her boobs, and she goes braless underneath them.

She wears short skirts to school that make me follow her around so I get to beat up any guy who even makes the mistake of glancing at her legs.

I tell her to stop, and that guys would get the wrong idea. But she'll roll her eyes and tell me some shit like she's not a kid anymore and I don't get to tell her what to wear.

She's not a kid. Yes. But she’s still my sister.

Ashleigh doesn't know that I scare off guys who are interested in her.

She's unaware of the murderous glares I throw their way or the threats I make to them in the locker room.

I've built a certain reputation for myself in this school ever since junior high, when I punched a guy who called Ash “the charity case.”

It was an ugly, brutal fight between Andy the bully and me, but in the end, I won, returning home with a split lip and a three-day suspension.

I do all this because I’m protecting her.

She’d already endured too much hell before she landed with us.

Mum told me everything about her uncle... how he hurt her, over and over, with his hands and his words.

It made me so mad with rage that, if selling half my soul could make that monster pay, I’d have signed the deal without hesitating.

Her old family let her down in every way possible. The moment she became part of ours, I made a vow to never be another person who failed her.

I’ll always watch her back. I'll always protect her. No matter what it costs me.

But standing here in the dark, watching her brush that long brown hair down her bare back, I know I want to do more than just that.

I want to be the only one who gets to see her like this.

When I slowly realize I'm still staring, I turn away fast, angry with myself.

This is wrong.

Grabbing the bin, I carry it towards the garage, my hands shaking as I shove it onto the shelf.

I don’t look up at her window again.

But that night, I jerk off in the shower thinking about her standing there naked, and when I come, I hate myself so hard I punch the tile until my knuckles bleed.

†††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††

“I’ve literally never kissed anyone,” Ashleigh says in a hushed voice. “Tyler asked me to the winter formal, and I said yes, but… what if he wants to make out after and I’m awful at it? What if I mess it all up?”

Her friends laugh. One of them, Madison, I think, replies, “Just practice on somebody who doesn’t matter. Grab one of the losers. They’ll be thrilled.”

I swear I wasn’t trying to listen. But they're the ones who came to sit on the bleachers and I'm underneath the stands, resting because I like to spend my lunch break here.

“I'd suggest you use Bob. Text him now and tell him you'll like to meet later today after school,” the same voice says.

“Yes. Yes,” another one chips in. “And throw him a freaky emoji so he'll get the message.”

It takes everything inside of me not to reveal my presence and yell at every single one of them to get the fuck away from Ashleigh.

I can't imagine her kissing someone that isn't me. It sickens me.

Afraid of what I'd do if I keep listening to their silly conversation, I use my earplugs and start blasting Kordhell and Scarlxrd, drowning all of them out.

Later that afternoon, I’m passing her room on the way to mine when I see her through the half-open door. She’s standing in front of her mirror in a little black dress, putting on deep red lipstick. Her phone lights up beside her with a new text, and she smiles at it.

Pushing the door open, I stride in without knocking.

Startled, she jumps, spinning around to face me. “Zayn! Ever heard of privacy?”

“Where are you off to?” I ask casually, leaning against the doorframe.

She shrugs, capping the lipstick, and avoiding my eyes. “Going to see someone.”

I close the door behind me and step further inside.

“Is this someone, ‘Bob?”

Ashleigh's eyes widen with shock. Then slowly a frown forms between her brows. “Were you eavesdropping on me?”

“Not on purpose.” I admit plainly, although deep down I hate that she's getting all dolled up to go see some guy.

She folds her arms defensively. “Whatever. It’s none of your business.”

I take another step closer, my fists balling at my sides. “I can't believe you’re about to go let some random idiot be your first kiss just so you don’t embarrass yourself with Tyler.”

Her mouth falls open in further shock. “Just how much did you hear?” she mutters.

“That’s a shitty plan, Ash.”

Her cheeks redden in embarrassment. “And what’s your brilliant idea?” she snaps.

Don't say it.

My subconscious chants.

The stupid words come out anyway. “Practice with me.”

The air stills and Ashleigh's lips part as she stares at me, her brown eyes staring at me in disbelief.

“You're joking,” she scoffs.

“I’m not.” I reply with a dead serious expression.

There's no way I'm letting any random simpering fool give her her first kiss when I still exist.

“You trust me, right?,” I continue, “I’m not gonna make it weird after. And I’m definitely not a loser who’s gonna brag about it.”

She swallows a large gulp. “Zayn…”

I inch closer. “One time. Just so you know what you’re doing.”

My heart is pounding so hard I’m scared it'll burst out of my chest. Everything about her makes me feel some type of way, from how her eyes dart to my lips to her mild flowery perfume. “Better me than some guy who only wants one thing.”

Ashleigh hesitates for one more second, before giving me a tiny nod.

I move in slowly, tilting her chin up.

When our lips first touch, it's like electricity zapping through my veins.

Ashleigh is a bit tense, but when my lips start to move against hers, coaxing her them open softly, she relaxes and soon learns to follow my lead.

I can't be gentle anymore. I want to more than just give her a plain simple kiss, I want to fucking devour her mouth.

So, when her hand comes up to grip my shirt, moaning softly, I nearly lose my mind and slip my tongue into her mouth, grabbing the back of her hair and tilting her head back as I kiss her hard.

Ashleigh lets out another sound that makes my cock hard and my hand leaves her hair to grab her neck, walking her back till she rests against the wall.

This isn't a practice kiss anymore. It's a domination. It's me telling her I own her mouth.

She opens up to me, her hand now moving up my back and into my short hair.

I want to lift her onto the dresser, and do things to her but even I know that I must stop.

So, I force myself to pull back.

We’re both breathing hard when I do. Her lipstick is ruined, and she's staring back at me like she wants more.

I lean in one last time, but don't kiss her.

“That's how to kiss.” I whisper, my voice rough. Then I turn and walk out thinking to myself how I just fucking made everything worse, but would absolutely do it again.