I hadn't been able to stop thinking of sex with Brandon Foster since Idyllwild.

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, the Adams-Foster household quiet except for my shallow, wishful breaths. Lena and Stef had taken Jude out to take his mind off of his recent break up, Mariana was tending to Ana and the baby, and Jesus was off with Emma or Lexi or another one of the girls he went through with such painless ease. Brandon, I assumed, was practicing his classical at Mike's, or anywhere that I was not a resident.

It had been a few weeks since my adoption, and the happiness that had originally engulfed me with the thought of being a real member of the family whom I had cherished for over a year was tainted with my overwhelming desire to be close to Brandon again.

In theory, I knew that he loved me. I knew he avoided me simply because he had no choice. Neither of us did. After all, we were siblings now. This melodrama that we had been staging for so long, it had to be over now, didn't it? He was my brother. But if it was so simply over, why couldn't I stop aching for the shape of his lips?

The night he performed at Disney Hall I thought my heart would leap from my chest. But not in a sisterly way. Not because I was proud of him, though I was. I was so proud of what he had accomplished, of course. Brandon's successes stunned me. His musical gift was not only deeply sexy, keeping me up most nights, but it was also awe-inducing. I loved his passion, nothing made me happier than seeing him perform. But there was also the messy, painful fact that the boy on that stage with the remarkable talent, the beautiful boy that I had been in love with for a year's time… he had done so much more than make music with his fingers in that cozy cabin last summer. I kept hearing his soft whispers of I love you in his bedroom the night following our evening of passion. Sitting here, thinking of him, was all I could do not to allow myself to sneak back into his room each night to give him even more inspiration for his music.

I sighed gently, sitting up in bed and anxiously tugging at the hem on my loose grey camisole. I had hardly bothered to get dressed that day, knowing the family would all be out and I had no plans apart from lusting over my… sibling.

Downstairs, I heard the soft shuffling of footsteps and the familiar sound of the front door closing.

It must be Marianna, I thought. She said she'd be home by mid-afternoon.

«Mar, come upstairs and talk with me, » I called down the stairs.

Marianna didn't know what had happened in Idyllwild, no one did. But she did have a vague idea about my harboured feelings for Brandon. I couldn't help it. I had confessed to her shortly after my adoption. I knew I could trust her, she was, of course, my sister. Someone I actually think of as a sibling.

I heard the gentle footsteps come up the stairs, and I looked up idly as a figure quietly opened my door.

Despite myself, I felt my heart soar as I saw that it was Brandon smiling sweetly at me, and not Marianna.

« Hey, Cal » He half-whispered, perching himself on the edge of my bed.

My face flushed different shades of red as I remembered my unwillingness to get myself ready for the day. The nervousness immediately dissipated though, this was Brandon. My best friend.

« Hi, » I smiled, brushing a curl out of my face and taking the sight of him in.

Brandon was beautiful. He was. Wyatt had been sexy, yes. AJ was adorable. But Brandon was soft, and delicate, and his eyes lit up when he had an idea. He had on light khakis and a dark grey sweater that clung to his body. He had let his hair grow through the summer and so it had begun to curl slightly in a messy sort of way that made him look somehow more intense and sexy than he already did. His eyes, possibly the most captivating part of him, which turned from green to grey, back to green again, were a deep, breathtaking olive tone today.

His gaze held mine for what felt like an eternity, until he finally spoke again.

« I've been avoiding you, Callie. » He murmured, almost to himself.

I studied him again, a shy blush had risen to his cheeks, accentuating his killer jawline.

« I know, »

« Not because I want to, I just - » He started, furrowing his brow and running his hands through his hair.

« You can say it, Brandon. You can always say anything to me, »

He locked eyes with me again, exhaling and tensing up all over.

« This is so hard. I know we said we'd move on, and of course I'm trying, Callie, I am. But I can't help but think it shouldn't be this way. I can't… I can't shake it. » His voice broke a little, and I knew it was hurting him as much as it hurt me.

I smiled sadly and looked away from him, trying and failing to ignore the smell that clung to him. Nothing smelled quite as intoxicating as the person you were in love with.

« Cal, » Brandon spoke again, placing his hand on my knee. « tell me I'm not crazy … tell me you feel it too. »

Every nerve ending in my body became hyperaware of his hand resting on my knee, I drew in a shaky breath, trying to focus on anything but the palpable sexual tension and the look in his eyes that sent shivers of desire down my spine.

« Of course… Of course I feel it too, » I finally managed.

He offered a small smile, one of his famous, signature smiles that most couldn't see, for it was held solely in his eyes.

« I love you, »

His voice was liquid sex.

No matter how many times I heard him say that, I couldn't get enough. I wanted it to fill the room, the sound of his endearment. I wanted him to scream it.

« Say it again, » I whispered so quietly I wasn't sure if I had even spoken aloud.

Brandon smiled and started to trace slow circles on my kneecap. « I love you, Callie. »

I drew in a sharp breath and closed my eyes. He's your brother.

But he wasn't. Not really. Not in my heart, where it mattered most. Mariana was my sister. Jesus was my brother. Lena and Stef were my mothers. But Brandon had never felt remotely like my brother. Isn't that what counted?

« We can't do this, Brandon. We promised each other. We have to think of the family. » I pushed his hand away gently, hating myself for fighting it once again.

He held onto my hand as I tried to push him away, tracing his thumb over each of my fingers.

« We deserve to be happy. We have spent too long pretending that we could forget this. I am not going to forget this, and not for lack of trying. » He tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear and ever so softly kissed my collarbone.

Fuck.

He started delicately planting kisses down my neck, returning up to kiss my nose, forehead, and eyelids.

I moaned softly, feeling the guilt and tension and sadness melt away.

He took my face between his long, gorgeous fingers and allowed his eyes to bore into mine for a few more excruciatingly pleasant seconds.

« I'm not letting you go. Not again. I am so tired of pretending that I have not been in love with you all the while. »

That was it. I was gone. Any iota of rationality I had left as soon as I heard his tender words.

« Kiss me, » I breathed, entirely focused on the warmth between my legs and the feeling of Brandon's hands on my cheeks.

He obeyed at once. His lips met mine intensely, but with a tender softness that was uniquely his. His tongue slowly parted my lips and traced their outline. Hungrily, I matched his rhythm, slipping my hands under the hem of his sweater and resting them on the small of his back.

He swiftly moved me onto my back, laying me down gently and allowing a small break in our kiss for me to gasp and groan.

I heard him chuckle quietly as he studied me for a second more. The way he looks at me is art.

He pulled his shirt over his head, tousling his brown locks, and smiled. He then removed his pants, only to reveal a significant bulge in his boxer briefs.

« Is this okay? » He asked, holding both of my hands in his.

I nodded and eagerly brought his face down to mine to resume our kiss. Kissing Brandon Foster was nothing short of amazing.

He lifted my shirt over my head, barely breaking our kiss again. Bringing his hands down to my stomach, he slowly moved his kisses down… down.

Reaching my inner thighs, he planted soft, hot kisses and looked up at me. « You are going to come this afternoon, aren't you? »

I nodded breathlessly. Fuck, only he could say something like that and have it sound confident enough to have me dripping through my underwear.

Slipping off my shorts, and then my modest Sunday cotton panties, he spread my folds and gently licked my clit.

I responded immediately, bucking my hips and moaning loudly, filling the room with my desperate pleas.

He sucked and kissed, much to my immense pleasure, all the while keeping his hands locked in my own.

I squeezed his hands and he squeezed back, not halting the teasing of my clit.

« Damnit, Brandon. » I heard myself squeal.

He moved his head from my thighs and looked up at me, his warm eyes smiling in an almost cocky way. « Get inside of me, »

Brandon obliged, quickly producing a condom from my bedside table and rolling it over the tip of his penis, and down the shaft.

As he slipped inside of me, I moaned louder than before, pulling at his hair and planting sloppy kisses on his shoulders.

He began at a gentle pace, moaning in time with me and kissing around my neck and collarbone.

« Why is this still on? » He spoke huskily into my shoulder, amused, as he unhooked my lace bra and flung it to Marianna's side of the room.

Now both completely naked, I tried to savour each moment. This is how it is supposed to be, I thought through waves of pleasure.

Brandon's gasps hitched slightly, as he began to move faster, deeper inside of me.

« Brandon, baby, I'm close, » I kissed his neck, feeling each muscle in my body tighten.

He moved faster, stroking the skin of my hips as he went.

« Oh, god, » I screamed, reaching my peak.

Brandon held me, not stopping, through nearly a minute-long orgasm, kissing me passionately as it winded down.

Almost as soon as I had finished, his shallow moans grew louder, and I knew he was climaxing too.

« Fuck, Callie. » He cried, kissing me and tightening his grip on my hips.

After he had finished, he pulled out and held me close to his chest, my head resting on his arm.

« I love you, » He began. « So much, that I don't want to spend anymore time apart. I can't, Callie. I want to be with you. »

I smiled and kissed him again, softly tickling the sensitive skin of his stomach.

He winced and tried to stop my teasing fingers, chuckling softly and turning a lovely crimson shade.

« We have to talk to moms, » I finally spoke, looking at him intently. « Because I love you too. I've loved you for a really long-time. »

I sighed, kissing his arm absent-mindedly.

Talking to moms was not something I would be looking forward to. But I knew they would accept it, however difficult it would be at first. They loved us. And we loved each other.

« Brandon? » I looked at him again.

He met my eyes and smiled as if to say to continue.

« I've been thinking of this since Idyllwild, » I motioned to our naked bodies, entwined.

He nodded and gave me a shy smile. « So have I, sis. »

I shoved him playfully and groaned. « Please don't say that, »

He laughed and kissed my shoulder, resting his chin close to my face.

« Serenade me. »

« And then some serious pancakes? »

I laughed and nodded, feeling at peace as he started to softly sing the chorus of Outlaws.