Goodbye Darcy

Darcy eyed her to-do list critically. It was much longer than she would have liked for the amount of time she had to do it in, but there was no wiggle room on this one. In just over six weeks, they'd be leaving for Colorado and all of it had to be done. There could be no more putting off.

Darcy's husband was finishing up the second phase of his training for the Army out in Arizona. She hadn't seen him since his graduation from Basic three months before, and even though part of her had really enjoyed living on her own, she was excited to see him again. She was well aware that she'd have plenty of time living on her own as a soldier's wife. Darcy made a face as she thought of herself as an Army wife. The role just didn't fit her and she'd started rebelling against it almost as soon as Aaron had enlisted. She knew it was a good choice for them in their present circumstances and she appreciated the reliable income and health care, but something about it was still galling. So while Aaron was away, she contented herself with small acts of defiance. She lined her eyes in smudged black pencil and dyed half of her hair raspberry red. Aaron only encouraged her. He may have been Army strong, but underneath the muscles and crew cut he was still a skinny punk rocker with blue spiked hair.

She stuffed the list in her pocket. She could get the cracked windshield replaced during the work week. Ditto the minor bits of sorting and packing she could start this far ahead. The other major work on her car would have to wait until her tax refund came. It seemed like almost everything on her list would have to wait at least a little while. Near the bottom was the one task that made her groan, and the one that required more than just money from her. Painting. In the five years they'd lived in their little apartment, they'd only painted two rooms. Now Darcy had to paint the bedroom, living room, and hall by herself in order to cover up the patches from where they had put holes in the walls hanging pictures. The last time they had talked, Aaron had told her to wait on the painting until he was home, but he was only going to be home for a few days before they both had to leave for his first post. Darcy had no intention of spending their last few days in Connecticut painting an apartment they were leaving anyway.

Darcy grabbed her keys and her bag, heading for Home Depot with a determined stride, and closing the front door firmly behind her. She smiled and pulled out her cell phone as she crossed the driveway to her car. She knew just who she could call.

*****

Stones crunched under heavy tires. Darcy grinned as she heard the truck's door shut harder than necessary. She could practically feel the resigned glare focused up on her second-storey kitchen windows and pictured the brief hiking up of baggy khakis, only to have them settle back onto slim hips. After seven years, she knew his quirks as well as anyone's. She was at the downstairs door a moment after he knocked.

"It's too damn early," he grumbled from behind his mirrored sunglasses. Bottle of Mountain Dew in hand, hoodie not quite long enough to keep his belt covered, cargo pants stained with what was probably motor oil, and ripped up Chuck Taylors.

"Well then it's a good thing you're my brother and you love me," Darcy said with a smile and she stepped back to let him into the hallway. "Besides, nine isn't that early. You're usually at work before now anyway, aren't you?"

Chris grunted, unwilling to either argue or concede the point. "I'm not actually your brother, so I'm not sure how far you should really push the whole family obligation thing," he pointed out as he started up the stairs. Darcy couldn't help smiling as he ducked low to avoid hitting his head. At 6'7" Chris never had to reach for things, but he probably did a lot more ducking than most people. He stepped easily over the gate at the top of the stairs and smirked at Darcy when she opened it. She was 5'9" - tall enough to step over it, but she had never wanted to risk losing her balance at the top of the stairs. Chris took off his sunglasses and dropped the backpack he'd slung over one shoulder onto the linoleum.

"So where are we starting?" he asked.

"I'm thinking we should move and cover all the furniture in both rooms first," Darcy replied, staring in the direction of the living room as though she could see through walls. "I think we'll have to move the futon into the kitchen though, or we won't have room to move."

"You're the boss." Chris pulled his hoodie off over his head.

"Damn right I am," Darcy said, and found herself grinning once again.

*****

It took them an hour to get everything moved and covered with drop cloths, including the carpets in the bedroom, where they would start. Although it was only the beginning of May, the day was warm and Darcy was beginning to wish she'd chosen to start on the western side of the house, where it was still a little cooler. Chris had brought his laptop and they listened to his music, a pretty low price to pay for his help all weekend. He'd even agreed to stay the night so they could get it all done and moved back before he went home. Darcy painted to the music, letting the bass lines set her pace. She was actually a little surprised by how many of the songs were ones that she had on her computer as well. Somehow she'd never thought of them as liking the same music.

As the song they were listening to came to an end, Darcy paused and wiped her forehead with the arm, trying to keep the sweat and paint out of her eyes. She put her roller down and grabbed her water bottle, relishing the sensation of the cool water flowing down her throat. The next song came on and Darcy found herself watching Chris as his head bobbed to the beat. She was pretty sure he was singing under his breath too. Neither he nor her husband could carry a tune if the fate of the world depended on it, and Darcy suspected some genetic glitch that could allow the brothers to play almost any song by ear, but keep them from hearing the flaws in their own voices and correcting them.

She smiled again as she watched her brother-in-law edging the baseboards. She'd known him since he was thirteen and he had been cute then. Now, at 20, the angles of his face were sharper, any trace of baby fat long gone on his lean body. At the moment his dark hair was tending towards shagginess, and he wore a goatee. He had stripped down to a tank top undershirt as they worked, and the tips of the wings tattooed on his chest swept up to his collarbone, showing clearer where the cotton was soaked with sweat. Darcy caught herself staring and felt the heat rising in her cheeks, hoping he hadn't noticed. This was her husband's brother! She had no business staring at him like that! She turned to the window to get her bearings.

"You just going to stand around all day and let me do all the work?" Chris demanded from across the room.

"I'm supervising." Darcy hoped her voice didn't betray the embarrassment she felt, or the heat that had preceded it.

"Lazy bum." He stood up and came over to the window, grabbing his own water from the dresser beside them. "Anything interesting going on out there?" He peered out the window into the yard littered with bikes and toys. A train rumbled by on the northbound track.

"Not particularly," she said softly. She glanced up and over her shoulder at his face, then turned quickly back to the window. "I surprised the kids downstairs aren't out."

"They're probably still in bed or watching cartoons." She heard the teasing smile in his voice. "Besides, it's too damn hot."

Chris was right. Darcy could feel the heat flowing off his skin in waves. So close the smell of his sweat mingled with the paint in the room and the lilacs outside. She stole another glance at him. He pulled up the collar of his tank top to mop his sweaty forehead, the fabric pulling up to reveal a lightly muscled stomach, dark hair leading down his abdomen to disappear beneath the waist of his boxers, slightly higher than his belt. Darcy turned away with the ridiculous, fleeting thought that his boxers were bright red. She hurried back to the wall and her roller, unwilling to confront this new reality. She pushed the roller hard into the wall, splattering herself with a fine spray of white paint. She ignored it. She was far too distracted by Chris's own return to his task by her side.

"Why is it I'm up here and you're down there?" Darcy demanded after a few minutes of silence. The muscles in her back were already protesting the reach as she tried to get the top of the wall with her roller. "I'm over here sweating my ass off when you could reach it without even trying."

Chris looked up at her from the floor. "Because it's fun to watch you sweat," he said with a crooked smile. Then he very pointedly glanced at her ass, level with his face as he lounged on the floor. "The view's pretty good, too." Darcy laughed, but felt desire dripping down her spine along with the sweat. Her heart hammered wildly against her ribs.

She swallowed back her nerves. He'd left her an opening, and as she looked down at him, his eyes seemed to be challenging her to take it. She mirrored his lopsided grin and took the chance. "Seems like you're missing a pretty good opportunity. I thought guys liked girls on their knees." Darcy laughed, but Chris said nothing, and her laughter died in her throat. Knowing that her face must be beet red, she turned to the wall, slapping the paint onto the plaster with newfound vigor. She didn't dare let her eyes wander down to Chris. The first touch of the cool, slick paint on her skin was a shock.

Darcy risked a look down. Chris was looking up at her, staring up at her really, the look in his eyes both nervous and somehow triumphant, a little confused, yet filled with hope. He dipped his fingers into the paint again and trailed them lightly across her calves in swooping arcs, smooth at first, then rougher as the paint was left behind and skin met skin. He pulled the swirling lines of paint around her legs, up over and behind her knees. His hands slipped to the backs of her thighs beneath the torn and paint covered knee-length cut-offs she'd worn to paint in. Then back out and over. Chris was on his knees now, the top of his head level with the bottom of her breasts as he ran his hands up her thighs to cup her bottom. He kept one arm around her and used the other hand to lift the edge of her tank top, kissing her damp skin just below her belly button.

Darcy felt her body pushing against his, relishing the cool tingling of the drying paint that marked the passage of his hands. Her mind fought her body's betrayal. She wasn't supposed to want him. They shouldn't be doing this. Her rational mind screamed and she managed to plant her hands on either side of Chris's face, turning it up to meet her gaze.

"This is very stupid," she whispered.

"I know. That doesn't change anything."

"He's your brother." Darcy's voice shook as she said it. She was afraid she might cry. As much as she loved Aaron, his younger brother has always held a strange fascination for her.

"And I've wanted you for the last seven years. You're leaving in less than two months and I'm not wasting another chance." Chris stood, towering over her. His hand was rough against the small of her back as he pressed her even closer. She could feel the first stirrings of his erection against her belly and ground into him. In his eyes there was only triumph now as he pressed his mouth to hers, his lips hot and demanding. Darcy's arms twined around her neck, pulling him to her. She returned his kiss fiercely, relieved in a way to finally be doing what part of her had always longed to do. She was hardly aware that Chris had slowly guided them across the room again until she bumped into the dresser. Chris broke away from her and smiled, then lifted her a few inches onto the dresser and pressed himself between her legs.

He pushed her honey colored hair back from her face with one large hand, tilting her head back so that she looked up into his chocolate brown eyes. "You want this to happen," he whispered. It wasn't a question, but there was still something unsure in his voice. Sitting on the dresser as she was, they were nearly face to face. She couldn't escape the smell of his skin or the catch in his breath as she laid a hand gently against his face. She kissed him softly and pulled away.

"Yes," she whispered. Green eyes met brown in a steady gaze. Then he kissed her, hard and passionately, his big hands pulling her close. Darcy felt waves of heat roll over her that had nothing to do with the weather. Chris's hands roamed over her back over and under the damp cotton of her tank top. She tugged at the edge of his shirt and they broke their kiss long enough for her to pull it over his head. She kissed him again as she ran her hands over his slick skin, the nearly imperceptible edge of his tattoo, the coarse trail of dark, curling hair that covered his abdomen. She traced the edge of his boxers with one fingernail, then made short work of his belt. She was just tugging at the button on his pants when he caught her hand in his.

"No fair," he murmured, playfully nipping at her lower lip. He trailed a line of kisses from her neck down to the tops of her breasts, following the neckline of her shirt. Chris paused briefly to pull the thin cotton over her head, then resumed his attentions to her breasts. She gasped at the heat of his tongue as it dipped into her cleavage. He flicked open the clasp at her back and pulled the straps off of her arms, not lifting his lips from her skin. Now he did, rolling each nipple slowly between his fingers, clearly relishing the sight of the hard nubs in his hands and the expression of desire on Darcy's face. Her breasts were full and round and filled his hands. He covered her open, panting mouth with his, pressing his bare chest to hers for the first time, trying not to gasp at the sensation of her breasts crushed against him.

Chris wrapped his arms around her and instinctively, Darcy circled him with her legs, her arms already around his neck. For a few brief moments, she felt weightless as Chris lifted her from the dresser and bore her down to the floor. He braced himself above her, his eyes filled with wonder that she could really be there with him, her hair spread out around her like a halo, her body arching beneath him in her need for him. He pushed himself up, kneeling between her thighs and unbuttoned her jeans. She lifted her hips as he slid them off, along with her panties. She lay naked before him, her pale skin glowing in the shaft of sunlight that fell on her from the window.

"No fair," she said, smiling as she watched him from beneath her eyelashes. He grinned wickedly and quickly divested himself of his pants and boxers. Darcy felt her gaze being drawn downward as he stood before her. His cock leapt out before him like an arrow shot from the dark, curling nest of his pubic hair. She smiled again and Chris knelt between her legs. She sat up, kissing a line down his abdomen as she grasped him in both hands. When her lips reached his long, thick shaft, she ran her tongue up its length, delighting in the gasp that escaped his mouth. She flicked her tongue against him, then eased her mouth over the head. Chris ran his hands through her long hair, bringing them to rest on her shoulders. Gently he pushed her back down to the floor.

Darcy wondered why he had made her stop, but her curiosity was soon satisfied as he leaned over. With one hand on his cock, Chris lowered himself towards her. Taking one nipple in his mouth, he guided his dick around the lips of her wet pussy, pausing to rub her clit with the bulging head. Darcy squirmed beneath him, aching with her need to have him inside her. He looked up at her, mischief in his dark eyes as he continued to nibble gently on her breasts. He pulled his hips away from hers, making her want to scream in frustration.

"Something you want?" he asked, his voice a harsh whisper in her ear.

"Yes!" she gasped.

"All you have to do is ask," Chris chuckled against her neck.

"I want," she began, her words cut off by a groan as Chris ran his cock up her sensitive slit, the head barely parting the lips. "I need you. Inside me." It was all she could do to form coherent sentences.

Chris took her face in both of his hands, searching her face. She met his eyes steadily. At last he smiled at her and kissed her, gently and hesitantly, on the lips. As he broke away, he guided his cock into Darcy's waiting pussy, thrusting hard. Darcy gasped at the moment of sharp pain as her body expanded to take him all in, but she thrust her hips upward to meet him. She clung to his shoulders, reveling in the silky feel of his manhood as it plunged into her. He ground against her, sending shockwaves of pleasure up her spine. He could feel the muscles tightening around his shaft as her pleasure mounted and he thrust hard and deep, trying to match her intensity. He looked down at her face, her head tilted back, her lips parted. With another deep thrust he felt her back arch and her pussy pulse around him. She dug her fingernails into his shoulders and cried out her ecstasy as she rode the waves of her orgasm.

"Oh god, Chris!" she cried. Hearing her call out his name, her voice rough with pleasure, sent him over the brink. They moved, locked together, as Chris came inside her with a loud groan, her pussy still spasming with the force of her own orgasm. When his seed was spent, he lay on top of her, feeling her heart pounding in her chest and knowing that she could feel his doing the same thing. He kissed her forehead, tasting the sweet, salty tang of her skin. Eyes closed, he leaned his forehead on hers, their lips close but not touching. For the first time he noticed that her breath was sweet with the smell of cherry lip balm, and he wondered how that could have escaped his notice up till then. He smiled, still panting, as Darcy ran her fingernails over his back and shoulders.

She watched his mouth move into a smile, his eyes still closed, and ran one finger down his face, pausing at the corner of his mouth. He turned and kissed the tip of her finger, the movement traveling down his body until she could feel it in her own. Chris opened his eyes and took her hand in his, kissing her palm, her wrist, and her forearm until he had guided her arm back around his neck, his eyes never leaving hers. She felt a surge of heat and a fluttering in her stomach. She lifted her mouth to his in a slow, soft kiss. It was a moment before she noticed the taste of salt on her lips. Confused, she pulled away. A wet line traced itself down Chris's cheek and his eyes were overbright.

"I'm an idiot," he whispered, answering the question in her eyes. "I should have said something sooner." He bit his lip. "You have no idea how long or how much I've wanted this, how hard it's been sometimes."

Darcy swallowed a sudden lump in her throat. "We still have six weeks," she said in a brittle voice. "That's something isn't it?"

Chris smiled down at her and kissed her. "I guess it is." She wiggled, trying to get comfortable, and Chris felt his cock stirring inside her warm wetness. She felt it too and pressed against him as his erection grew. He grinned, surprised at her eagerness. With one swift movement he rolled them both over, so that she sat astride him. He looked up at her messy blond hair falling around her shoulders, her full breasts hanging above him. He ran his hands over her rich curves, in love with the way she was gazing back down at him.

"Six weeks is all the time in the world," he whispered.