Alexander leans against the wall with his right hand. If I turn a little, I can touch my lips to his wrist. Kiss lightly and weightlessly, and then run your tongue over the male skin. Remember its smell and taste.

God, I want to feel that nervous rattling again that made my knees weak and my fingers tremble.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I mutter.

- Come on? Remind you? He places his other hand on the wall. Now between us insignificant centimeters remain.

I take a deep breath. And I wince. Chest with steel fetters compresses. I slip under Alexander's arm, climbing free. I walk away from him, shaking my head.

He hurts me again.

"Since when do you wear sweet perfume?" — I am keenly interested. I fold my arms over my chest and take a deep breath, trying to hide my disappointment.

“Since the liar Christina turned out to be a virgin with green eyes,” the half-brother replies calmly. - Do you want to tell me what kind of circus you staged? Why did you change your hair and put in colored lenses?

— I so wanted to.

“At least something was true?” Is the story about the ex also fictional? he insists. Doesn't even leave a chance for a break.

“Partly,” I chuckle. But the story is based on real events. Too bad you don't remember them.

“I don't like riddles, Mika-Christina.

- Consider that I just wanted to lose my virginity with a man whom I have known for a long time. That's all, I spread my hands. “Now let me go back to the party.” We are waiting.

“It’s okay, they’ll wait,” he snaps. He doesn’t let me through, he blocked the exit with his body.

- What do you want? I ask indignantly. I don't understand his intentions. - Did the fact of your own inattention hurt you? Or what? I understand that five years is a long time, but not to recognize your own sister is the height of idiocy! You never looked at me at all, did you? And you didn't remember my voice?

I can’t stop now, I express all my complaints to him. My voice breaks, but I keep talking and talking. I even throw up my hands from excessive emotionality.

- I just put on makeup, put on a tight dress and put in blue lenses. Everything! And you didn't understand a damn thing. Although before that we saw each other for seven months every weekend. And even talked to each other. Or do you have temporary memory loss? I snap my fingers right in front of his nose. I'm getting bold.

Alex grabs my hand and squeezes tightly. I try to break free, hissing like an angry cat. A strand of hair has come out of the stupid bun and is falling on my face. It interferes with seeing.

“I don’t remember those who are not interesting to me,” Alex says in an icy tone ... Alexander.

“Thanks for the truth,” I say softly. Shoulders droop, I droop, become smaller, more inconspicuous, more insignificant. I figured it out, so what.

“You are six years younger than me, do you really think I could be interested in you?”

It keeps destroying me. His fingers are warm, heat emanates from his body, but his voice is indifferent, his eyes are impenetrable. Alexander is made up of contrasts.

Yes, I really thought so. I wanted to befriend you.

At first, I really looked for a friend and an older brother in him, but then everything changed.

"I shouldn't have lived up to your expectations," he jerks his shoulder. Besides, I had no idea about them.

“Of course,” I smile bitterly. “You never needed a half-sister. You actually hated me.

Alexander shakes his head, his eyes showing vivid emotions. Bewilderment, surprise, alertness.

“I never hated you,” he says firmly. He frowns, giving me a quick glance, and opens his fingers, leaving my hand alone. “Wait, is that why you pretended to be Christina?” Wanted to take revenge on me because I dared not notice your insanely interesting person?

Each of his words pierces like a poisoned thorn right in the heart. I take a deep breath and clench my hands into fists. How heartless, cruel, cold he is! How could I fall in love with him?

- Go to hell! I punch him in the shoulder. And think what you want, I don't care anymore.

“Insanely interesting person,” he said with open sarcasm. He spat those words in my face. It turns out that Alexander did not hate me. He just didn't care. I was empty for him. An ordinary girl, whose voice and appearance he did not even remember.

Hate is at least about feelings. Indifference hurts much more.

Are you saying I didn't figure out your motives? Alexander does not calm down.

But he won't know the truth.

Apparently, he completely forgot about how he read my personal diary. On the pages of that yellow notebook, I confessed my feelings, drew stupid pictures and even wrote poetry. About him, about his insufferable half-brother.

He laughed as he flipped through page after page.

But Alexander does not remember this. And he can't add two plus two.

I wanted to sleep with him because I'm still in love with him. And she pretended to be another girl so that he would not push me away, would not humiliate me with a condescending smile.

Are all men stupid or just my stepbrother?

“No, you didn’t guess my motives,” I say sadly. “But that doesn't matter anymore. That night was a mistake ... And now I would like to return to my holiday. Will you let me?

Alexander nods slowly and steps back. He does not take his eyes off me, as if he is trying to penetrate into the very soul, but I will not allow it.

Stop pining for someone who will never return my feelings!

I turn around and go up the stairs to my room. Alexander recognized me, so you can no longer pretend to be yourself five years ago. I have long outgrown T-shirts, glasses and messy hair.

I put on a dress that I bought especially for my birthday, put on light makeup on my face, put clear lenses in my eyes and comb my tangled hair.

Here, it's so much better!

I go down to the summer terrace. Mom notices me first, smiles happily and winks, approving the change of image. My stepfather gets up and pulls out a chair for me. In general, he is a gentleman to the marrow of his bones and always behaves like this: he gets up when the girl leaves the table, opens the car door and gives a hand. At first I was disgusted by such old-fashioned troubles, but then I even got imbued with his gentlemanship.

“You look great,” Vasily Andreevich smiles.

- Thanks.

The throat is dry, the face and neck begin to burn. Alexander looks. I feel his gaze with all my skin, I react to it with all my being.

I raise my head. I bite my lower lip until it hurts. In the eyes of my stepbrother, fire blazes, dark, evil, such a bad fire. And I don't understand what I did wrong again.

5.2

Alex

I don't understand shit. Mika pretends to be an offended girl, disappointment and pain are heard in her voice, but she doesn’t want to explain anything. Don't force her!

I'm missing something.

And I feel like the ultimate idiot. Not recognizing one's own sister is the height of inattention. Mika is right: she just put on makeup and beautiful clothes, and this cheap trick worked. I did not match Mika from the past and Christina from the present. These two girls seemed completely different to me. One is a romantic weird nerd-sticky, the other is uninhibited, beautiful and, yes, also a little strange, but insanely seductive.

As soon as I remember her fucking lips, the member turns to stone again.

I instantly recognized Mika as Christina. The voice is the same: deep, sensual, melodic. And the lips that lead me. I immediately went to my father to take control of myself. I listened to my father's stories about the construction business and a new deal, and he thought about Mika.

She still looked at me frowningly, with apprehension, apparently afraid that I would recognize her. This stupid bunch, glasses ... What did you only hope for?

I wanted to drag her into the back room and arrange an interrogation. With passion. I held back. Until she left the house.

He pressed her against the wall and felt the same scent of perfume. She didn't bother to change them. Mika closed herself off from me as soon as I called her Christina. She began to defend herself, to carry some nonsense about wanting to lose her innocence with a familiar person.

We haven't seen each other for five years, how the hell am I familiar to her? Yes, and before we were not friends, I'm bored with youngsters. As soon as Mika said this, she raised her voice, breathed heavily and raggedly, hit me and turned on the insult.

The truth is not offended. It's time for her to grow up.

In short, Mika tricked me around her finger, pretending to be another person, and for some reason I was to blame for everything. Women are amazing creatures. They will come up with something for themselves, they will be offended, and you look at them and don’t understand a damn thing.

For men, everything is simple: there is discontent, resentment, anger - say it straight to your face, we will immediately resolve the issue and close it. And then we'll be best friends. Romanych and I got along so well. We've been talking for over ten years now.

“You look great,” my father says.

I sag and look at the liar Mika. She changed her clothes, let her hair down, got rid of her ugly glasses. I'm on it again. Yes, your mother!

Mika is lost under my gaze, fidgeting nervously in her chair. And she breathes deeply, because of which her appetizing chest often falls and rises. Rounded hemispheres are visible in the neckline of the dress. I didn't get to touch them. I wanted false Christina so much that I didn’t have time for foreplay. With her tongue, innocent look and timid touch, she set such a fire in me that I could no longer hesitate. Therefore, he refused to go to the bedroom.

But virgins are taboo.

"What are you doing now, dear brother?" Mika turns to me. The voice is honey, the smile on the face is the sweetest.

And half an hour ago she was hysterical and accused me of all mortal sins. She quickly adjusted.

“I am actively searching,” I answer vaguely.

— But what about the development of mobile games? You did it in Germany, didn't you?

- Yes. Now I'm going to change my occupation.

- Why? She bats her long eyelashes. She looks even better without lenses. There was something unnatural about that color, and green really suits her.

“Midlife crisis,” I say jokingly.

I'm exaggerating, of course. However, I really do not intend to return to the IT sphere. Tired. I have several ideas for creating my own business, I just need to discuss them with Romanych.

“Yes, you are old,” the liar Mika grins. Satisfied, she believes that her words will hurt me.

If she did not want to avenge me for some childish grievances, then what? Why did she pretend to be Christina, did she change her eye color? And how did she even know I was going to that restaurant?

I shift my gaze to Inga, my father's wife. Dad wouldn't have spilled the beans, so she did.

I clench my jaw, this whole situation is freezing me out. I returned to my homeland to find my place here and establish relations with my father, and not to participate in a soap opera.

What same have Miki fucking lips! They are like a magnet for me, it's hard to look away. Images flash before my eyes of her sucking my finger, squinting in pleasure.

When this whole performance is over, I will call Dasha and fuck her in the knee-elbow so that her face is not visible.

“And Mika makes toys for us,” the father says proudly. - She exposes them on the Internet, she often receives orders.

- Toys? I raise an eyebrow. - It looks a lot like you. Can you tell me more?

- Nothing special. I create them by dry felting, from sheep's wool. I have different toys: tiger cubs, elephants and lions, dogs, dragons, of course, as well as hedgehogs and various creatures from popular films and cartoons, she chattered embarrassedly. Her cheeks even turn a little red. — I have been doing them for a couple of years, I like to do something with my hands.

Now I'd rather see her hands on my cock.

“Interesting,” I say casually.

Mika snorts resentfully and turns away. She asks her father to pour her champagne.

“I really think your occupation is interesting,” I tell her for some reason. I don't want her to think I'm a complete asshole.

“T-thank you,” he says stammeringly.

Worried. He drinks champagne in quick sips, covers his nose with a chuckle and reaches for the second steak. She has a good appetite.

The father throws himself into lengthy discussions about work, the economic situation in the country and the need for higher education. My dad is like this: if he drinks at least one glass of beer, he will bore and talk until he is stopped.

Mika doesn't seem to mind at all, she even puts in her five cents. Inga is mostly silent.

A message from Dasha comes to my phone. She writes that she is bored. This is overkill. We do not have the type of relationship where such text messages are welcome. I don't want Dasha to have feelings for me.

We'll have fireworks soon! - recalls the father, and Mika cries out joyfully and claps her hands. Did she not know about fireworks? Or is he always so happy about the little things?

The housekeeper removes empty plates from the table, Mika goes somewhere, returns with a jacket thrown over her shoulders. Frozen. Her lips even turned pale. He squeezes his palms, brings them to his mouth and exhales. A cloud of vapor hangs in the air and then dissolves.

Mika enjoys the sunset. I look at her thighs and ass covered in thin fabric and shake my head. Who would have thought that my boring sister would become such a beautiful woman.

Then comes the turn of the fireworks. Mika is filming them, laughing, giving me a casual look. And, as if burned, he immediately turns away.

- Awesome fireworks! Thank you,” she hugs my father. She blushed, she takes off her jacket and dances when another firework explodes in the sky with multi-colored sparks.

“I'm glad you liked it,” Dad nods contentedly.

Mike gets a notification on his phone. She looks at the screen, stretches her plump lips into a joyful smile.

“Okay, I’m leaving,” she announces loudly. - My friends at the club are waiting for me ... And Makar.

So, what the hell is Makar?