Falling For My Alpha Stepsister (GL)
Chapter 27: Fingering In The Movie Theater...

Chapter 27: Fingering In The Movie Theater...

With no complaints, the girl went upstairs, and after some time she came back wearing her usual outfit. A sleeveless black shirt, knee-length pants, and her hair wasn’t messy but tied in a ponytail.

The dark fabric of the shirt fit her broad, athletic shoulders perfectly, showing off the clean lines of her arms and the sharp tattoos tracing down to her wrists.

Honestly, the way I used to view Angel had changed.

I don’t know why and don’t know when, but my chest became heavy whenever I saw her around. Like strange, suffocating pressure seemed to settle right behind my ribs the moment she entered my space, making my heart thump in a fast, uneven rhythm that I couldn’t control.

"Do you like me in this look more than the stupid tuxedo I wore last time?"

Her deep, husky voice dropped right over my head, the sudden words breaking through the quiet air with a familiar, lazy amusement.

I didn’t even realize when she got close to me. I stepped away, then tried to find a bit of air to breathe.

"The tuxedo was way better than this look. That made you stand out, but this... you look like a thug from the ghetto. Who is going to fall in love with this? Absolutely no one..."

I forced a sharp, dismissive scoff out of my mouth, shoving my frames back up with a shaky index finger while trying to make my voice sound perfectly cold.

"You will. You are going to fall in love with this. I’m charming and beautiful in whatever I put on. Girls die for all this. I thousands of girls begging me to marry them..." Angel said, showing off her body.

She let out a short, arrogant chuckle, spreading her long arms out to the sides and looking down at her own dark clothes with an absolute, unshakable confidence.

She looked proud and far more comfortable than she had in the tuxedo she wore last time.

Even her smile was brighter than her shining white teeth.

I forced myself to look away.

"Sluts are the only ones dying for that kind of look. Real girls want someone elegant and mature." I said.

I crossed my arms tightly over my chest, digging my nails into my sleeves to stop the nervous trembling in my fingers.

"Those real girls are fake. Behind closed doors, they crave like sluts."

Shhhhh... Keep changing my words into weird ones.

I squeezed my eyes shut for a brief second, trying to drown out the sudden, intense images her blunt vocabulary kept forcing into my mind.

I mean, they are not really weird... or lies.

The best-selling books in the library are dark romance novels and fantasy stories.

I had stamped those thick paperbacks countless times for quiet, well-behaved students who hiddenly giggled over the explicit Chapters and the dangerous, dominant characters.

People would rather live in lies than in reality.

They wanted the heavy, intoxicating drama of a fictional world because their own lives were too plain and ordinary to offer any real excitement.

Angel, is all lies. A fictional character..

And there we were, sitting next to each other, watching a random movie.

The theater room was cool and quiet, the massive screen casting bright, shifting flickers of blue and silver light across our faces as the opening credits rolled.

We had to share one big bucket of popcorn. It was sitting between us.

We also shared a couple’s drink with twin straws.

The massive plastic cup sat in the center holder, the two bright plastic tubes bending in opposite directions toward our lips like a trap.

This was my moment to look attractive and gain her attention.

I shifted my weight slightly in the plush seat, clearing my throat softly as I tried to remember the simple romance rules I had read about in the library stacks.

Angel’s eyes were glued to the big screen while I thought of new ways to gain her affection.

Whenever she dipped her hand into the bucket to grab some popcorn, I did the same.

I timed my movements perfectly, waiting for the soft rustle of her fingers against the kernels before sliding my own hand down into the cardboard cylinder.

Touching creates little sparks and sends signals to the other person.

I kept my breathing shallow and quiet, my pulse drumming hard in my ears as the dark space inside the bucket suddenly became a tiny battlefield.

A stray line from a psychology book floated through my thoughts, giving me a small ounce of desperate confidence to keep my hand moving forward through the food.

Inside the bucket, while our fingers were busy searching for popcorn...

I closed my fingers around her palm, my grip shaky but determined as I forced myself to maintain the hold in the dark.

"Cough, cough..." Angel coughed a little as she stared at me.

"What is it?" I said, looking innocent.

"Your hand is in my way... popcorn."

She stated the fact with a flat, questioning tone, her hand remaining completely still beneath my tight, clumsy fingers.

"Oh, I didn’t know... But this is what couples do... play inside the popcorn bucket. It’s romantic and maybe buys me your affection." I said with total honesty..

Then Angel smiled, wearing that devilish grin. The white line of her teeth caught the shifting light from the screen, the sharp, confident curve of her lips signaling that I had just walked right into a massive trap.

Before I knew it, she was playing with my fingers.

It was all happening inside the bucket, hidden beneath the popcorn.

Her movements were slow and deliberate.

She didn’t rush, her warm skin sliding against mine with a practiced, steady rhythm that made my entire body turn completely weak and fluid against the seat.

I felt her finger circling around my palm, gently teasing it.

It was like she was fingering my palm.

The thick, deliberate friction was almost too much to handle, my nose breathing in the heavy scent of her pheromones as they flared up in the close space.

I couldn’t take it.

My throat clicked as I swallowed hard, a soft, helpless gasp catching in the back of my mouth while the screen flashed a brilliant white light over us.

I can’t believe I was enjoying it, and I also felt the spark like a shockwave.

That touch alone was sending mixed signals through every single part of my body.

My brain was screaming at me to maintain my dignity and pull away, but my basic physical nature wanted nothing more than to lean closer to her warmth.

No. No. No. No.

I forced my stubborn mind to take control of my shaking limbs, locking my jaw with a sudden, desperate surge of defensive pride.

I quickly pulled my hand out of the bucket.

"Did it work...? Did you get the affection?" she asked with a wink.

She leaned her head slightly closer to my armrest, her crimson eyes gleaming with a heavy, teasing victory in the dim light.

"Why did you have to make it look so intimate?" I said.

I kept my voice low and furious, my teeth grinding together behind my lenses as I tried to regain my composure.

"Ohhhhhh... It was only hand touching. I wonder what you’ll call it when I get to touch you down there." Again, she winked.

I would have found that wink annoying, but instead it sent chills through me.

I had to look away from her and focus on the screen.

"Now, this popcorn tastes much, much better." Angel said after tossing a piece of popcorn into her mouth.

I just glared at her...

So we continued watching, me waiting for the movie to end because it was boring to watch...

Even the drink, I was too scared to sip because I had a feeling it was going to backfire.

Just looking into her crimson eyes while sipping from the shared straw...

The mere thought of her sharp gaze watching my lips while I drank made my throat constrict with a tight, defensive panic.

I don’t know what would happen.

The unpredictable nature of her reactions was too dangerous to risk, especially while the lingering traces of my heat were still humming in my blood.

So I tried one more method.

I shifted my weight again, drawing a slow, quiet breath through my nose as I prepared to launch my final romantic counter-attack from the book.

Pretending to fall asleep on your partner’s shoulder.

It was a classic, foolproof strategy from the romance novels, a subtle way to force physical contact without looking like I was begging for her attention.

That alone gives attention and affection.

She would have no choice but to support my weight, her protective Alpha instincts bound to soften under the quiet vulnerability of a sleeping girl.

Angel is bound to fall for me.

I tilted my head slightly to the side, letting my eyelids droop in a slow, practiced imitation of complete exhaustion as I prepared to lean over.

But my plan failed.

Before I could even lean an inch across the leather armrest, the tall shadow next to me shifted with a sudden, heavy movement.

Instead of me resting my head on her shoulder, Angel did what I was about to do.

She rested her head on my shoulder.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud....