Love Wedding Repeat: His And Hers And Hers

Hayley was trembling enough that Jack had to hold her still with one arm and take off her shoes with his free hand. His face was grim; he could feel the scowl set on his feature. Made himself relax it into a reassuring smile. Hoisting her into his arms as easily as he would lift a child, Jack carried her to the shower stall and turned on the water, ignoring that he himself was getting soaked as much as her.

In the past two hours, she’d been blasted with red wine, had her infidelity shouted in the middle of a crowded room, had her would-be husband leave her, accidentally pushed him down a flight of stairs, and with all her friends and family present for the public humiliation as well. It was no wonder Hayley was having a breakdown.

Jack had taken her to her hotel room to pull herself together, but it was clear there was no chance of that. The best he could do was manage her collapse so that it didn’t last any longer than it had to. Which meant getting her out of her ruined wedding dress, cleaning her up, maybe getting some food and water into her. And if he could get her to sleep without any pills or sleeping drops, so much the better.

She really was weak as a child, barely able to stand, but Jack steadied her as best he could, petting her hair, helping her work out the body-wracking sobs she needed to let loose before her racing heart could slow down.

“Think you could stand, please, just a couple minutes until I’ve got you washed up?” Jack asked pleadingly, and she managed a weak nod.

Pulling her skirt up, he splashed a washcloth on her legs, rubbing the sticky wine residue from her flesh. Next, after wringing out the washcloth, he used it on her arms and hands, gradually replacing the layer of discoloration with the pure, gleaming pallor of his beautiful redheaded sister.

All while he tended to, Hayley stood docile. She was barely holding it together, clearly, with silent tears running down her cheeks where the shower spray couldn’t reach, making tracks in the wine that’d been thrown in her face.

“Everything’s going to be alright,” he cooed soothingly to her, coaxing her to kneel down so he could wash out her hair. She let him comb out her hair with his fingers, blinking her eyes to protect them from the water that he jostled into her face, but otherwise keeping her gaze fixed on her reflection in the glass shower door. Mercilessly, it was not pebbled glass, but a painstaking image of how far she’d fallen from the blissful bride of that morning.

“Nothing’s going to be alright,” Hayley moaned. “Everyone hates me—”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Mom and Dad would hate me—”

“Don’t you dare. Don’t even bring them into this.”

“I slept with him… the worst tit on the planet and I slept with him instead of the perfect guy… all I had to do was keep my legs shut for another three weeks and… and…”

“Just let it go, Hay. However bad you need to feel about this, I’m sure you’ve felt that bad. Can you at least allow that enough people have taken it upon themselves to punish you and that you don’t have to do the same?”

Jack took the washcloth, wringed it out obsessively, and started on her face. Gently: Hayley was calm now, in a traumatized sort of way, and he didn’t want to set her off again.

“You know what it is?” Hayley whined piteously. “I know what it is. It wasn’t right. I cheated because… because… it didn’t matter! It didn’t feel right anyway, so why should I be with him? Why should I marry him?”

“Don’t say that,” Jack moaned, sure he was losing ground on his quest to resuscitate his sister from the pit of despair. “Roberto’s a great guy. He’ll come around—he won’t want to lose you, all you had, because of some silly mistake…”

Hayley nodded mechanically. “Roberto is a good guy. That’s what makes it so fucked up. Because as good as he is, I’m only with him because I can’t be with you.”

Jack tried to think of something to say. Then noticed the pink rivulets that threaded their way down Hayley’s legs. Her dress was still so soaked with wine that he’d have to take it off to get her clean, as he’d known he would have to. She couldn’t spend the rest of her life in a soaking wet wedding dress, after all. But with what Hayley had said—their history—never mind all that, she didn’t know what she was saying. And either way, he had to get her clean and changed.

“Let’s get this off. We’ll find you something clean to wear,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm and even.

“I made a mistake,” Hayley sniffed. “You said we had to move on, you said we couldn’t do it anymore because we’re brother and sister, even though it was the only thing that kept me going when Mom and Dad died…”

“Hayley, please,” he begged. “Just forget it.”

“It was the best sex I ever had,” Hayley mewled. “The best love I ever knew. And you made me give it up. Why? Because only bad people do incest? We’re not even related, Jack. I’m adopted.”

“It hardly matters, does it? We grew up together. You’ve been my sister since we were toddlers. Even if that’s not blood, it’s still—move your arm, I have to unzip you.”

Hayley didn’t even glance down as he unzipped her dress at the armpit and pulled it down her chest, then tossed it to the bathroom floor. She kept her eyes on his face, as if awaiting a revelation that she’d long been anticipating.

Jack helped her to her feet and his mouth went dry, looking over her naked breasts. Age hadn’t diminished them at all. Since they’d stopped comforting each other as teenagers, the fullness of her maturity had made her breasts round and heavy, tipped by small coral nipples that were gloriously of a piece with all the freckles on her pale shoulders and the red curls that lapsed down her face.

She might as well be nude; all that was left of the outfit she was to be married in was a pair of panties that the water had made crystal clear. He could see pink underneath the wisp of fabric. No hair, only the split in her flesh that would let him into the succor she offered once more.

“We need to go back, Jack. We need to go back to the way it was. Just you and me against the world. Please… I can tell how bad you want to comfort me, but this is the only thing that’ll make me feel right.” Hayley managed a small smile. “Do you like that I waxed? It was for the honeymoon. But… I’m a little glad that now you get to enjoy it. You’ve done more for me than he ever could.”

Jack tried to argue like he was telling Hayley the sky was blue, but it felt more like he was insisting on it being yellow. Hayley sounded so calm, so sure in her proposition of him. Exactly how he’d wanted her to sound when he started comforting her. So that at least was a little justification for how he wanted her so bad.

He was a guy, even if a British one, he always wanted sex, but that was just physical pleasure and any good-looking woman would do there. Then there was romance, which he’d wanted with Dina—that seemed unlikely now—and now there was Hayley… just Hayley. He wanted to be the comfort she needed so badly. And he wanted it to be her that he was completing with his body. Her legs wrapped around him, her breasts in his hands, her mouth against his, her sex accepting every mad thrust he had to give her before he was drained.

Jack pulled his eyes away from her. He wouldn’t tempt himself any longer. “Just… just let me wash you off. Then we’ll get you dried off and into some clean clothes and… you won’t want that anymore. You’ll want to work things out with Roberto, make it last with him, like you did that day we called it quits.”

“I never wanted that. You were so sure it was sick and wrong. I didn’t want to argue with you, didn’t want you to think I was sick and wrong. I let you convince me I would feel the same way about Roberto as I did about you… that we’d have what you and I have. But when would I ever betray you, Jack? And when would you ever turn your back on me?”

He washed her breasts with a gentle touch. Every moment of it tormented him, feeling her silken skin just underneath the washcloth, seeing her nipples tighten into reddened knots at even his most careful touch. But he had to make her clean—wipe away every remnant of this disastrous evening.

Finally, he dropped the washcloth to the floor. “That’s enough water. Let’s get you dried off,” he said hoarsely, and turned off the tap.

“You can’t say it, can you? That you’d ever do what Roberto did. No matter what I did, you’d always stand by me, because you’re the one I’m meant to be with.”

“Then why do I want to be with Dina?” Jack protested. “I’m in love with her, I’ve been trying to ask her out all evening… just because you can’t work it out with Roberto doesn’t mean you’re meant to be with me!”

Hayley said nothing. But suddenly she flung herself against him. Her arms went around his body, hands pressing into his back. She buried her face against his chest—Jack tried to control the rush of his heart, knowing that a steady beat was what Hayley needed to reassure her, but he guessed the warmth of his body would have to do.

She wasn’t shaking anymore… Jack told himself that whatever else, at least Hayley finally felt safe. It was sinful, it was wrong, but how could it be right to push her away? And how could it be right to keep holding her; his hands moving slowly over her bare back, his palms drawing a thrill from every inch of luxurious texture he touched. Even the wonderful gossamer of her wedding gown was no substitute for how luscious her skin felt all on its own.