That's For Lying

A/N: This story is a completed standalone. Please note that there is a lack of clear verbal consent in both sexual scenes, but it's not necessarily NonCon. There is some build up and characterization before the main event. All characters are over 18. I'm unfortunately my own editor, so any mistakes and/or typos are mine. All feedback is welcome and vastly appreciated to this struggling, wannabe writer. Happy reading. ~

*****

June - Four Years Previous

When his phone went off shortly past 1:30 in the morning, Brent Hawley knew nothing good waited for him on the other end of the line. He'd been an EMT while working his way through nursing school, and some of the worst calls came in the dead of night.

That wasn't to say that people weren't idiots in the daytime. There'd been the one lady that ended up with a rake halfway up her ass on a sunny Monday afternoon...but that was neither here nor there. Blindly he reached out, half asleep, palming the smooth top of the nightstand until he landed on his cell. He pressed the little green button without looking at the caller ID.

"Hello?" he asked, his voice sounding rough even to his own ears.

"Brent," the caller said, a note of panic suffusing the word. "I fucked up."

Autumn. He sat up in bed, suddenly wide awake, as he recognized his sister's voice. "What? Where are you?"

"I...uh...I'm not really sure. Winnetka. I'm at a party with Jess and she was supposed to drive us home, but she's wasted."

Damn it. Winnetka was an hour away. A muscle in his jaw ticked as he stared into the darkness of his room, listening to her shallow, but even breathing. He had a twelve hour shift in less than five hours.

"Brent," Autumn whispered, breaking him out of his reverie. "I'm sorry to do this to you. Please don't make me call Mom and Dad."

"All right, fine, I'll be there as soon as I can," he snapped, rolling out of bed. "Has she thrown up?"

"Who?"

"Jess, Autumn!"

"Oh...just once."

"See if she can keep down any water," he said, pulling on his t-shirt and jeans from yesterday. "Have you had anything to drink?"

"Well, yeah, it's a party."

He was going to kill her. He paused as he slipped on his Vans, taking a deep breath. He knew it was the end of the year, and there were tons of parties as she'd just graduated high school. He'd been in the same situation five years ago. But her lack of good judgement and planning, so unlike her, was grating.

"But I'm not drunk," Autumn said quickly, correctly interpreting his silence as an annoyed one. "I promise. I've had one vodka cranberry. And a beer. And just one shot!"

Brent ignored her as he grabbed his keys and wallet. "Okay, just make sure Jess gets some water and food in her if possible. Find a quiet place until I'm able to get to you. Are you safe?"

Autumn snorted. "Yes? It's just kids from Jess's school, geez."

He delighted himself in thinking of all the ways he was going to make her pay him back for this, especially if she wanted it kept silent from their parents. Maybe washing his car weekly for a year? Doing his laundry for a month or three? Promising to never hang out with her skanky friend again? Jess had hit on him more than once. She was certainly fuckable, but not much more than that.

"Just text me the address," he said, exiting his apartment. "Be there soon."

Nearly an hour and a couple tolls later, Brent pulled up to a house in the suburbs that had no business being a big as it was. Cars cluttered the driveway, and he felt a little self conscious pulling his aging Hyundai up near the myriad of Cadillacs and BMWs. To his relief, Autumn was out front, Jess between her and another one of their friends. He stepped out of the car and his foot crunched an empty beer can near the curb. How the cops hadn't been called for noise complaints already was beyond him.

When he looked, really looked, at his little sister, his eyes widened, nearly bugging out of his head. Autumn was a bookish nerd on the newspaper staff and an honor roll student set to start school in Champaign come the fall, most of her tuition covered by a scholarship. She didn't concern herself with partying, and the most he'd seen her put into her appearance regularly was her morning shower.

This girl was dressed in some light blue crop top and high-waisted skirt combo, the bottom flaring over her curvy ass and tanned, shapely thighs. Her dark brown, shoulder-length hair spilled out of her loose bun, probably from the excitement of the night. Though not dramatic, her makeup certainly stood out, accentuating her hazel eyes and thick black lashes. Strappy white sandals decorated her feet, shell-pink toes catching his eye. She hadn't been this dressed up for her actual graduation ceremony.

"Brent!" Jess cried, her head lolling between her two friends. "A hero ish born!"

Autumn rolled her eyes, wrinkling her pert nose. "Finally, you're here. I don't know how much longer I can put up with her like this."

Brent stared at his sister incredulously for more than one reason, and tried not to notice the way her tits bounced in her top as she struggled to support Jess. When had those things sprung? He supposed, though, that you missed a lot being out of your childhood home for almost five years.

He opened the door to the backseat of his car and moved to meet the girls halfway. All around them the party raged, though it was nearly three in the morning. Even though she smelled like her mom's expensive perfume and vomit, he lifted Jess off her feet and carried her to his car. Autumn said goodbye to her friend and followed suit, sliding into the backseat with her drunken friend.

Jess's house was twenty minutes away. They were almost there when Autumn finally spoke. "Brent...I'm sorry."

He glanced in his rear view mirror. Jess's head rested in his sister's lap. She stroked her friend's sweaty bangs away from her face.

"Just make sure she doesn't puke in my car," he said, the tiniest amount bitter his sleep had been interrupted.

Jess's parents were vacationing somewhere in Morocco, so in twenty minutes they had her safely delivered home and in bed. He made sure that she was on her side with an empty bowl and a glass of water in reach, but surmised she'd be fine as she hadn't puked on the way over. They locked the door behind them as they left, Autumn slightly unsteady in front of him.

"Watch that - " he started to say, indicating the uneven sidewalk, but she was already pitching forward.

He grabbed her around the waist, bringing the back of his little sister's body flush against his front. Because he was a guy, he immediately noticed how perfectly the curve of her ass fit against his groin. He knew she'd been teased throughout high school for being on the chubby side, but he'd always had a thing for girls with a little extra meat on them.

He wasn't tall by any means; average at 5'10, but Autumn had always been short, reaching her peak in middle school at 5'2. She rested her head just under his chin, and he smelled warm vanilla and not-so-warm vodka. He gritted his teeth. Why was he so hyper-aware of her?

"Whoa. Thanks."

Her skirt fluttered in the early morning breeze, and he thought he caught a flash of white lace. "Yeah, no problem. You good?"

"Yeah," she said, and the word came out breathy.

They were on the expressway before either of them spoke again. "So...I feel like I haven't seen you in ages," she said, fiddling with the hem of her skirt. He tried to ignore the way it rode up on her thighs.

"I was just at your graduation," he said, keeping his eyes on the road. It neared four in the morning.

"Yeah, but like, you don't come around anymore. Mom misses you. She won't say it but she does."

"Autumn, I'm busy. I'm working 48 hour weeks at the hospital. Mom and Dad both know that."

"But I'm gonna be leaving soon," she said, her dark brows raised. Her eyes looked luminous in the glow of the streetlights. "And then we really won't see each other except for holidays."

"You act like you're going to school across the ocean or something. You're three hours away by train," Brent said, unable to suppress a chuckle. Then he sobered. "Don't try to change the subject, though. What you did tonight was stupid."

"Oh, because you never partied." Her voice was sullen as she turned to look out the window.

"I didn't have the scholarship you had, which you could easily lose. But we'll see what Mom and Dad say in a bit, won't we?"

She turned on him, eyes wide. "Brent, you can't bring me home. Take me to your apartment until tomorrow morning. I'm supposed to be sleeping at Emily's. That's where Jess was going to drive us."

"You can't just invite yourself over," he said, outraged.

"It's an emergency!"

"My apartment is not a safe haven for drunk teenagers."

He almost swerved into the next lane when she placed a hand on his thigh, the pads of her fingers pressing against the material of his jeans. "Brent," she said, her voice pleading. "I'll literally be grounded for the rest of the summer."

"You should have thought -

"I'll make you a deal."

He was silence, suspicious. Finally, he bit. "What is it?"

"Let me crash by you and you can make me do anything you want."

He swore under his breath, but took the exit coming up to get to his place. As he drove, gears began to shift in his mind. Surely she hadn't meant it as it sounded. He contemplated his options. He could keep it clean, or...no. What the fuck was he thinking? This was his baby sister.

"Tyler Ballenger said I had a nice ass tonight," Autumn said suddenly, keeping her gaze straight ahead.

The name sounded familiar. Brent wracked his brains. Ballenger. "I think I had one of his sisters in my class."

"Yeah, Sarah. Did you think she was pretty?"

"I don't really remember her."

"I think Tyler's pretty cute. I kinda wanna fuck him."

He stopped a little too hard at the red light. "Jesus, Autumn." His hands tightened on the wheel as he imaged his sister wrapped around some faceless douchebag kid, her tits bouncing on each thrust of his cock.

She giggled, and covered her mouth with her hand. "Right, right, sorry. Girls like me aren't supposed to have thoughts like that."

Ten minutes later he was parked, and they rode the elevator up to his floor in silence. Though comfortably spacious, his one-bedroom apartment was the epitome of bachelorhood, decorated to the point it was almost bare. A couch and flatscreen sat in his living room, and the fridge in his kitchen held a few cold cuts and condiments. His bedroom was much the same, with only a bed and wardrobe giving hints that someone lived there.

"So. The deal," Autumn said, coming to stand in front of him.

"Sis, I'm tired," Brent said, fighting not to snap at her. "I have work in two and a half hours. Let me go get as much sleep as I can."

"But I want to thank you. I do feel really bad about this." The chin of her heart-shaped face trembled as she looked up at him from her lowered lashes. "I'll pay you back the gas money for sure. And buy you Portillo's."

He rolled his eyes.

"Seriously. Anything."

Maybe it was the subservient tone, the acquiescent pose, but an idea struck him. Running a hand through dark brown hair nearly the same shade as his sister's, he looked her up and down as they stopped in the kitchen. "Turn around."

She looked confused. "What?"

"Turn around. Put your hands down flat on the island. Wide apart."

It definitely toed the line if not crossed it altogether entirely. But he was hooked. She still stared at him, defiance creeping into her face.

So he helped her. His hands found their way to her waist once more, physically turning her to face the granite countertop in the middle of the room. "Hands."

"What is this?" she asked, but did as he said.

"You said anything. So what if I want to get back at you a little? You know, for dragging me out in the middle of the night?"

"You're an idiot," Autumn muttered. "What do I do now?"

"Bend over. Lay against the countertop."

She was silent for a beat. "You're not serious."

"Autumn, I'm dead serious. I can still send you home."

She let a sharp breath out through her nose and did as he asked. She gasped a little. "It's cold."

Brent imagined her nipples stiffening as the cool granite penetrated her top. Was she even wearing a bra? He stepped back and took a moment to admire the way her butt curved at this angle. Her skirt barely covered her. No wonder that kid had made a comment. It was a juicy view.

She tensed as his hands gripped her hips. "Brent, what are -?"

"So Ballenger said you had a nice ass, huh? Should I confirm?"

Before she could answer, he flipped her skirt up. What greeted him was quite possibly the thickest, nicest butt he'd ever laid eyes on. White lace circled her hips, and a thin strip disappeared between her cheeks. He found himself wanting to trail a finger along the crevice until he found her thong, snapping it against her skin. "Fuck."

"That's not funny, Brent," Autumn snapped.

She made to stand up, but he splayed his palm over the center of her back, keeping her down. "Relax. This won't be that bad."

Autumn cried out as his hand suddenly came down on her bare cheek, the sound echoing through the kitchen. The most taboo thrill coursed through him as he watched her flesh jiggle and redden.

"You're dead," she gasped.

He ignored her. "That's for being naive enough to believe Jess, of all people, wasn't going to get fucked up tonight."

Autumn squirmed in his grip, but, he noticed, not as much as she could have. He landed another blow, this time to her other cheek. There was more force behind this one, and her sandaled foot came off the hardwood floor as she cried out again.

"That's for waking me up," he said, his tone easy, as if he were discussing the weather with a coworker.

The third spank landed more towards the bottom of her cheek and on her upper thigh. Her cry came from between her teeth, and the sound sent blood straight to his cock. She was a tough one. "For having poor planning skills."

"Fuck off," Autumn said, the words breathless.

His fourth blow landed right on the meat of her cheek, and he couldn't help but grab a handful right after he'd finished. He bent over her body and whispered in her ear. "For dressing like a slut."

Blush stained her neck, and Brent couldn't see her face, but he suspected it was almost as red as her ass.

"I disagree," was all she said.

He massaged her cheeks with his free hand, and if he didn't know any better, she pressed into his palm. He was dangerously close to her inner thigh...dangerously close to his little sister's pussy. As if thinking the word controlled his movements, he dared to dip his index and middle finger between her thighs, finding her panties warm and damp. Brent stilled, hardening further as she moaned softly.

"Why are you wet, Autumn?"

"I'm not." The fifth spank landed on solely on the lower half of her cunt, and she swore.

"That's for lying."

"Brent! Knock it off."

All rational thought flew out of his mind, and he used his finger to drag a line between her lips from top to bottom. Her knees buckled, and he caught her, his dick nestling perfectly in the cradle of her thighs from behind. He wanted nothing more in that moment than to rip her thong away, undo his jeans and slip into her, sister or not.

"You want me to stop?" he asked, thrusting against her. He was throbbing.

"You have to."

"Because you're my sister?" Her pussy seemed to spread perfectly against his repeated motions, and he took his hand off her back and gripped her ass for leverage. This was beyond fucked. This was beyond fucking brilliant.

The noises coming out of her mouth were driving him crazy. "Oh," she moaned. "Oh, my god."

"Because I'm not supposed to want to be inside your tight little cunt?"

He took a step back, but only to push her thong to the side. Autumn was unbelievably drenched, and his fingers slipped against her soft wet lips with ease as he sought the hole that was forbidden to him. He found it and thrust his finger in, and a near-scream ripped from her throat as he invaded the tight channel.

"Oh, fuck yeah," he breathed as her pussy clung to him. He couldn't imagine what it would feel like around his cock.

"Brent," Autumn said, the word almost a sob. "You have to stop."

"I know, baby," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her exposed back. "I know."

He found her swollen clit with his thumb, and she groaned as he rubbed it in circular motions. Her sticky juices trickled down his fingers and coated his hand, and he thought about pausing to taste his sister, but she was so close. He flicked her clit at the same time he thrust his finger inside her, and she cried out and then went silent as she came, only her gasping breaths betraying her state.

He had to fuck her. His hands went to her hips, fingers slipping inside the edges of her panties, poised to rip them right off her. She seemed to read his mind.

"No," Autumn gasped, her body trembling against him. "Brent, please, I'm a virgin."

And it was only then like someone dumped an entire bucket of icy, slimy water on him. He took a step back from his sister and turned to face the opposite counter, breathing hard, his erection straining in his jeans. He could hear her skirt rustle as she righted herself. The aroma of sex still hung thick in the air, and his hand shone with her orgasm.

"Hey..." she finally whispered, breaking the ringing silence.

He couldn't face her. "Fuck, Autumn. I'm sorry. Fuck."

She swallowed audibly. "You should probably get some sleep. You have work soon. I'll take the couch."

"No, I will. Just, uh...lock up when you leave in the morning, okay? Or do you need a ride?"

"Jess'll be sober by then, I'll call her. Or Emily. I'll be fine."

He went about grabbing a spare blanket and pillow for the couch, his heart hammering in his ribcage. He felt as if he was slowly moving through someone else's life. Because that couldn't have just happened with them.

"Brent?"

Autumn's voice snapped him out of his reverie.

"I mean it. I'll be fine. It'll be fine. Sleep tight."

- - -

July - Present

Autumn raised her champagne flute along with everyone else, but unlike everyone else, her smile was not genuine. She kept it frozen in place as her brother leaned down to kiss his new fiancée, and their friends and family burst into applause, whooping and hollering.

She drained her glass in one go.

"Easy, there, baby Hawley," a voice sounded behind her. "There's not enough of you for all you've been drinking tonight."

She knew by the grating, patronizing nickname that it was Patrick McGrath, her brother's oldest and closest friend. She had half a mind to tell him where he could shove his bottle of Old Style, but kept her lips pursed instead, opting to glance sidelong at him, the move dismissive.

Patrick came to stand beside her, his 6'4, lithely muscled frame dwarfing hers. He was Irish-looking through and through, his black hair cropped in a trendy undercut and his blue eyes piercing, bright against his untanned skin. His cheekbones could cut glass, and his mouth was borderline sinful. He was handsome, yes, and she'd had a crush on him all throughout high school, yes. But then she had gotten...distracted.

"Attractive couple, no?"

Autumn gazed at her future sister-in-law. Meghan was certainly gorgeous, all blonde hair and icy green eyes and fit figure. She had no tits, but her ass was tight and heart-shaped, no jiggle to her walk. Not Brent's usual type, but she supposed types didn't matter where love was apparently concerned. Speaking of her brother, Brent had finally shed any residual awkwardness from his youth. His dark beard was full and neatly trimmed on his square jaw. His eyes, heavily and darkly lashed like hers, were a warm brown. He'd let his hair grow out a touch, and the dark brown waves were thick. He'd bulked up in the past year or so, probably on account of Meghan dragging him to the gym with her.