Chapter 4

After my shower, I felt far more refreshed, and it wasn't just the hot water cleaning away the slight hangover from the night before. It was the sexual release I'd finally obtained and getting one-up on Erica's flirtatious shenanigans. I just hoped it wouldn't backfire somehow. I'm sure the others wouldn't appreciate me flashing my dick to their sister, even if she started it.

I dressed in a pair of camo-pattern cargo shorts and a white death metal band T-shirt with the hard-to-read logo in black across the front. I rarely wore white shirts, but the band were friends of mine from London, and they really were quite awesome, so I made an exception. Once dressed, I pulled on my boots, grabbed my phone and jacket, then headed down to the main house.

As soon as I entered through the sliding door, my nose was assaulted with the aromas of breakfast meats such as sausage and bacon mingled with the scent of fried eggs and buttered toast. My stomach grumbled as I stepped into the kitchen, loud enough to draw Amanda's attention away from the sizzling bacon in the frying pan.

"Good morning," she said with a cheery smile.

"Good morning to you too," I said with a grin. "That smells amazing."

"Thanks, there's some ready for you," she pointed with a greasy spatula to a plate piled with fluffy scrambled eggs, half a dozen rashers of bacon, and two thick pork sausages.

"Don't mind if I do," I said, reaching across the counter to drag the heavy plate to me.

I dug into the food with about as much grace as a starving bear in a meat factory, gaining a satisfied grin from Amanda before she turned back to her cooking.

"Do you do all the cooking?" I asked when I finally finished inhaling the eggs.

"Most of the time. Emily helps out most evenings, and Mel usually prepares her own meals or helps me when I do it," Amanda said.

"Not Erica?" I asked.

"God no," Amanda laughed. "She could burn a glass of water."

I spat out half a sausage I'd been chewing as I started laughing, causing Amanda to laugh with me.

"Guess I won't be asking her to cook for me anytime soon," I said once the laughter settled.

"I'll cook for you anytime, Nick," Amanda said.

Our eyes locked for a few seconds, and I thought I saw something more in them. Not the friendly smile and gaze I'd experienced the first time we'd met, but closer to the look she gave me when we hugged by the pool last night. This look worried me more than the games Erica was playing with me, mostly because I couldn't see Amanda playing around like that. I hadn't known her for even twenty-four hours, but I felt I had a pretty good idea of her character. Thankfully, Emily came bouncing into the kitchen and broke the moment before it could get awkward.

"Hey guys!" she greeted us in a cheery tone.

Emily bounded around the kitchen island, wrapped her arms around Amanda in a big hug, then circled to hug me from behind, planting a kiss on my cheek. It was a platonic kiss, but the spot where her lips had touched my skin felt incredibly hot, and I had to force myself not to rub the area with my fingers. I just imagined how her soft lips would feel against my own.

Aaaaand I was in boner town again.

"Good morning. You're in a good mood," Amanda replied.

"Of course I am. I have my big brother here now," Emily beamed, plopped herself on the stool beside me, grabbed a fork, and speared a piece of bacon from my plate.

"Please, help yourself," I mock politeness.

Emily grinned around the piece of bacon she'd stuffed in her mouth and playfully pushed my shoulder. Apart from being super cute and pretty, she was probably the easiest to remember as my sister. Her goofy smiles and cheery attitude toward me never failed to make me smile. But as with all my new siblings, I still couldn't get the image of what it might be like to make love to the spunky brunette.

"Any plans for today?" Amanda asked Emily.

"Gonna practice a bit, then head over to Jen's to hang out," she replied, pulling out her phone to respond to a pinged message.

"Why don't you invite your friends over here tonight? It's Saturday. We could have a proper party to welcome Nick," Amanda said.

"That sounds awesome!" Emily exclaimed." I can't wait to show you off to my friends."

Emily stuffed another piece of bacon into her mouth, then darted out of the kitchen like her pants were on fire. Of course, I watched her bubbly butt the entire way.

"Does she ever sit still?" I asked Amanda.

"Nope," she laughed.

I finished my plate of food and carried it to the sink, scraping the leftovers into the bin before rinsing and storing it in the dishwasher. Making sure I did it when Amanda had her back turned, just in case she tried to do it herself. I'd have to help her out around the house to give her a break.

"What about you?" I asked.

"What do you mean?" she replied.

"What are your plans for today?" I added.

She pursed her lips in thought as if she hadn't really thought about what to do with her free time, which I had gathered she hadn't had much of in the years since her mother left and our father had died.

"Not sure. I might just read a book or listen to some music," she shrugged. "I'm not really all that exciting."

"Sounds like a pretty good day to me," I said with a smile. "Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all, but you'll probably have to fight to get away from Emily," Amanda said. "She's been so excited to meet you and show off her long-lost brother to all her friends."

"Any of the cute?" I asked with a smirk.

"Quite a few," Amanda half smiled.

"Maybe I can get her to set me up," I added with a laugh.

"Oh, Nick, I doubt you'll have any trouble finding a girl," Amanda replied, giving me one of those intense looks.

Her eyes bore into me, making my heart beat a little faster. Suddenly I was feeling a little hot, and I was aware of the tight denim shorts she was wearing, showcasing her super-star long legs. I felt my barely receding dick spring back to life as the memory of Amanda in a bikini returned. It was going to be another one of those days.

Just then, Erica came down from upstairs in a pair of Lycra leggings and a severely lacking sports bra that failed its job utterly. Erica's marvellous melons bounced enticingly with each exaggerated swing of her hips/

"Morning, Erica," Amanda greeted her sister with a plate of eggs and toast.

"Good morning," she replied to Amanda, then gave me a flat stare.

She didn't look too pleased to see me, not a single smirk, smile, or seductive wink this morning. Maybe I'd gone too far with the shower scene earlier, but she had to know she couldn't do what she was doing and get away with it. I'd have to fight fire with fire when dealing with this temptress.

"Morning, Erica," I said in my most pleasant tone.

"Morning," she replied, taking her plate and sitting by herself at the dining table.

I studied her for a moment as she slowly ate her food and flicked through some social media app on her phone, stopping to take a selfie or two from time to time.

"Something happen between you two?" Amanda asked, making me jump.

"Nope, nothing, maybe she is just a little hungover and embarrassed from last night," I lied.

"I've never known Erica to be embarrassed by anything," Amanda mused. "But, having a brother is a new experience to us all."

"Especially me," I laughed. "I'm sure she'll be fine. I'll just give her some space."

"Okay, but you let me know if she starts being a bitch to you. She got that from our mother," Amanda added.

"Sure thing," I replied, not really intending on getting Erica in trouble with her sister. I could deal with her on my own if she kept it up. It was actually kind of fun fucking with her.

I said my goodbyes to my sisters, Amanda gave me a one-armed hug, and Erica ignored me. I left the kitchen to search for Emily, and then I heard the muffled rumble of a bass guitar coming from the door I suspected leading to the garage. I knocked on the door, but the playing continued, so I tried the handle and found it unlocked. I inched the door open and peered into my idea of heaven.

The garage's interior looked soundproofed professionally, and the concrete floor was covered neatly with carpet tiles to dampen the sound further inside and outside. A massive double-bass drum kit sat on a small riser at the far end of the room. The cymbal rack glittered with an impressive amount of polished brass cymbals, and the drums themselves were a deep red with black swirls laced with mother of pearl. It was a beautiful set-up, and I wondered who it belonged to.

"Nick!" Emily said as soon as the bass guitar stopped.

"Hey, sweet set-up," I said, stepping into the room and closing the door behind me.

Emily was seated on a stool in front of a massive 6x10 bass cab with a Mesa M9 carbine amp sitting on top. The amplifier was a serious piece of band equipment. At 900watts, it could probably vibrate the whole house if turned up. I noticed the volume was only on two and was surprised I could hear it so well at a low setting, especially through the soundproofing. Resting on her thigh sat a 4-string BTB Ibanez with a five-piece neck-through design. The polished wood finish was spectacular, and the tiny mother of pearl inlays along the fretboard shimmered whenever Emily moved the instrument. She held it with a familiarity one only gets from playing an instrument for long hours.

"Thanks, it's not all mine, though," she said, placing the bass on the stand beside her.

Other stands sat by two other guitar amps on either side of Emily's. Both guitar rigs were almost identical, both had a 4x10 mesa guitar cab, but the amps differed. The one to her right was a Mesa Stiletto, while the other was a Mesa dual rectifier. Whoever owned all this equipment definitely had their favourite brand picked out when it came to amps. Guitars were a different story.

The stand by the amp held three guitars, each hanging by a clamp around the base of the headstock. One was a beautiful deep-red swirled PRS, while the other two were Jackson guitars, one from the Kelly model with long, sweeping points while the other was from the V collection. The V was stark white with black edging, and the Kelly was plain black. While I'd love to play either of them, the black one caught my attention.

"You play, don't you?" Emily interrupted my ogling of the instruments.

"I do," I replied.

"Wanna jam?" she smiled.

"Are these yours?" I asked, pointing to the guitars.

"No, they're Amanda's, but she doesn't play anymore," Emily replied, sounding slightly sad.

"How come?" I asked.

"Dad taught her," she replied simply.

I left the questioning at that, but I approached the guitars and took the black Jackson into my hands. I let my eyes roam across the body's curves and up the polished neck. The strings looked fresh, with not a spot of rust on them.

"Go on," Emily grinned, picking up her bass.

"You sure Amanda won't mind?" I asked.

"Nah, at least they'll get played," she shrugged. "I play around with them sometimes, but I'm not very good with that many strings."

I took a seat on the stool that was positioned beside the dual rectifier amp and rested the guitar on my leg. It was awkward to play sitting down, but I could manage. My friend had one of the cheaper models back home, and I played it for hours whenever possible. I was looking forward to making this one scream.

I uncoiled a lead sitting on the amp and plugged one end into the guitar, then the other into the input on the face of the amplifier. I switched the power on and adjusted some of the settings. Some guitarists like to have a lot of low-end in their tone, but I preferred to let the bass give the low-end, and since I was jamming with a bassist, I wanted to hear how she played. Once I had the dials to the positions I wanted, I flicked the standby switch, and the amplifier hummed with feedback from the pick-ups.

I ran my left hand along the fretboard to gauge the responsiveness of the settings. The metallic scratching from my fingers sliding along the strings was a familiar sound, one some people hated but one I loved.

A bowl of guitar picks was sitting on the amp, and I fished out one. I usually played with ones far smaller, more often used in jazz, but this one would do the job. Once I got the guitar in as comfortable a position as possible, I strummed my first power chord.

The instrument sang loudly in its dirty, distorted tone that was literal music to my ears. The amp was turned down low, but it still filled the entire garage space with an almost painful hum.

"Here," Emily handed me a pair of disposable yellow ear plugs.

"Thanks," I replied, stuffing them into my ears to protect my hearing.

Once satisfied with the instrument's tone and volume levels, I started with a standard thrashy death-metal riff I liked to play when warming up. It was mostly power chords with some pinch harmonics thrown in for good measure. After I repeated the riff for the third time, I heard a chunky, thunderous tone cut through, and I looked over to see Emily's fingers moving across her much longer fretboard. Unlike most guitarists, I had a strong appreciation for skilled bassists. They may only have four strings—some had more—but they had much longer necks to work with, and fret-spacing was much wider. Emily seemed to be a pro as her fingers danced along the neck of her instrument, keeping up with me and only pausing long enough to gauge a change I made before diving right back in.

After about five minutes of jamming, I slid the ball of my hand along the volume knob to cut the sound. Emily stopped with a long slide along the E-string and smiled widely at me.

"That was awesome!" she exclaimed.

"Yeah, that was pretty damn good," I laughed.

"You're a really good guitarist," she gushed.

"Not that great, but I do enjoy playing," I rubbed the back of my neck.

I'd never been great at receiving compliments on my musical skills, constantly feeling like I could be better and not deserving the praise. I guess everyone could always be better at their passion of choice; I had a hard time believing I was anything special. It wasn't like I could shred like Zack Wylde or solo like Satriani. I rarely even wrote my own music, preferring to just play covers alone. That is probably why my band back home never did anything.

"You're the awesome one Emily," I complimented my smiling sister. "You picked up what I was playing in seconds and jumped in."

"I was a little sloppy. I haven't had a guitarist to play with in a while," she shrugged.

She was anything but sloppy; Her finger-picking technique was flawless. I listened closely while we were playing, and each note she played sounded perfectly executed, only hesitating when following a change I made. Which was understandable when you're playing something you aren't familiar with. Every guitarist and bassist I knew back in London would have stopped what I was playing and asked me to show them what notes, chords, and frets I was using. But not my sister; she was a natural. I wondered if Amanda was as skilled as her younger sibling.

"Wanna play some more?" she asked, and I couldn't refuse the eagerness in her eyes. Plus, I really did enjoy playing guitar.

"Sure, do you know any covers?" I asked.

"Of course," she grinned.

We spent the next fifteen minutes going over our favourite bands and deciding between the three we both liked. Out of those three, we picked a few covers that we both knew. One of them, I'd never actually learnt the song, but I knew it well enough to fudge my way through without too much trouble.

Half an hour later, I placed the guitar down on its stand and flexed my fingers and wrist. It had been a long time since I played properly, and I hadn't given myself much of a warm-up before diving into some pretty fast songs. We didn't have a drummer for backing, but Emily kept fantastic timing, and I was able to lock in with her, and we only lost out rhythm a couple of times on the first song.

"I'm so glad you're staying with us, Nick," Emily beamed as she placed her bass down. "We should do this every day!"

I smiled at her enthusiasm. "I'd like that, although I'll bring my guitar down next time."

"Maybe Amanda and Erica will join us next time," she said, all but bouncing with excitement.

"Erica plays?" I asked, genuinely surprised.

"She's the drummer," Emily smiled. "Doesn't that look like something she'd play?"

I looked over to the extravagant kit and somehow knew what Emily meant. It was gorgeous and sexy with a perfectly polished, cared-for look. Exactly how Erica kept her appearance, whenever I had seen her anyway, the dark red colour scheme also seemed to be a very similar shade to the red streak in her hair. Thoughts and images flashed of Erica sitting upon her throne, legs beating and arms moving as sweat trickled down her neck and between her generous breasts. I shook my head to dispel the image.

"That would be great, but I have a feeling Erica doesn't like me," I admitted.

"She does. She just has an odd way of showing it," Emily assured me. "Trust me; I can tell she likes having you around."

I wasn't sure what Emily had meant by that. Had she noticed the looks her sister had been giving me? Had she seen my own reactions to Erica flaunting her body? Or my responses to her? I doubt she'd be so calm and casual about it if she knew what went on in my head or the shower scene with Erica this morning. But if she did, did that mean she was okay with what was happening?

I pushed that thought aside and picked up the guitar again. It could be that my whole family are perverted fucks like me, but that would be too much to hope for. The more likely scenario was I was getting horny from my ten-star sisters, who were just being friendly. More likely, I was the weird creep, and they were normal.

"Let's play some more," I said, and Emily grinned before picking up her instrument.

We played for another half an hour until I had to stop due to cramps. I wanted to keep playing, but my hands weren't accustomed to playing for long periods. I was glad I'd found something I could do with Emily to help the bond form between us, and seeing the look of glee on her face as we played flawlessly together made my heart swell. I just hoped I could find something else to bond over with my other sisters.

"Damn, it feels good to play," I said, rubbing my sore left hand.

"Yeah, I haven't played like that in a long time," Emily replied.

I was about to ask her why she didn't play with anyone since she was really talented and skilled, but her phone began buzzing. She picked it up and answered it in one smooth motion.

"Hey!" she answered the call with as much enthusiasm as she did anything else.

"I had a better idea," she said into the phone. "How about you guys come over to my place tonight? We're throwing a party to welcome Nick to the house, and I'd love for you guys to meet him."

I stood from the stool I'd been perched on but didn't make a move to leave. I didn't want to take off without saying bye, but I also didn't want to eavesdrop on Emily's conversation. Before I could make a move, she looked my way, then held up a finger to signal, 'hang on. I'll be done in a second,' so I waited.

"Please don't ask me that," she replied to an unheard question. "Will you stop being a bitch."

Emily's words were completely absent of any scorn, and she even laughed when she called her friend a bitch. I guessed it was just friendly banter between friends.

"Eight sounds good, just please behave," Emily ended the call and placed her phone down.

"What was that all about?" I asked curiously.

"Just my friend Jen," Emily replied. "She wanted to know if you were hot."

"Well?" I asked, feeling confident enough to push some boundaries.

"Well, what?" she asked, tilting her head to one side as she studied me.

"Am I?" I asked with a smirk.

I thought I saw Emily's cheeks flush, but it could have been my imagination. She smiled and shook her head. "Better not say, don't need you getting a big head now."

Emily walked over to me and punched me in the shoulder. It was only a playful hit, but I still acted like it hurt and rubbed the spot she'd struck.

"Hey now! No need to get violent," I scolded her playfully.

"Big brother can't take a punch?" Emily teased. "I thought you'd be tougher than that with all those big muscles."

She squeezed my bicep, and I instinctively flexed the muscle. Her hand lingered on my arm for a moment, and I saw a different look in her eyes. Emily's eyes were usually filled with mirth and laughter, always ready to make others smile, but this time they were filled with what I could only guess was surprise and lust. But that couldn't be right. The door to the garage opening broke the mood, and Emily's hand shot away from my arm as if she'd burned herself.

"Hey, you two sounded great from out here," Amanda poked her head in, smiling.

"Thanks, I hope you don't mind, but I played your guitar," I admitted.

"It's fine. You sounded way better than I ever was," Amanda shrugged.

"She's being modest," Emily laughed. "Amanda is the best guitarist I've ever met."

"Is that so?" I asked with raised eyebrows.

"Emily is exaggerating, I was good, but I don't think I was as good as she seems to remember," Amanda said, blushing a little.

"How about you jump on one and prove me wrong?" Emily said with a challenging grin.

"Maybe some other time," Amanda said. "I'm going out to get some things for the party tonight, do either of you need anything?"

"Nah, I'm good. I was gonna go for a drive anyway," Emily replied. "Want to come, Nick?"

I looked back and forth between my two sisters for a few seconds. I'd love to spend some more time with Emily, but that touch had meant something to her, and I felt it too. Maybe some distance between us for the rest of the day would be good. If I stuck around the house, I could get into more trouble with Erica, especially if everyone else was out. I hadn't seen Mel all morning, so I guessed she'd gone out before I got up. Erica might not be in the mood for the games she'd been playing, and I didn't want to piss her off. But I could always go for a drive with Amanda, she did a lot around the house, and I could make myself useful by carrying heavy shit. Plus, I'd spent a good portion of the morning with Emily, and I did want to hang out with the eldest of my sisters.

"I think I'll help Amanda if that's okay?" I asked.

"Sure, I'd love that. Just let me get changed," Amanda said, her smile telling me she was happy with my choice.

"All good. I guess I've been hogging you all morning," Emily shrugged, sounding indifferent. But I could pick up her disappointment.

"We can hang out more at the party tonight, and you can introduce me to Jen," I said with a smile.

I expected Emily to be cheery about the prospect of a party, but she seemed to almost frown at the mention of her friend's name. The first time I'd seen her pretty face in anything but a cheery smile. She brushed her mass of wavy brown hair out of her face and shrugged.

"Sure, I'll see you two later," then she stepped passed Amanda and was gone from view.

"What's up with her?" Amanda asked worriedly.

"I'm not sure, but I think it has something to do with her friend Jen asking about me?" I said.

"Make's sense. Jen is a bit of a slut," Amanda said with a chuckle. "She'll be all over you in no time."

"Are you saying I'm that irresistible?" I smirked.

"Don't be fishing for compliments from me, Nick," Amanda scolded, but she was smiling, so I knew her words were in jest.

"Yes, Ma'am," I said with a mock salute.

She simply shook her head, suppressing a smile, then vanished into the house to prepare for our shopping trip. I grabbed my things, made sure all the equipment was turned off, then headed out the front to have a smoke while I waited for Amanda. I spied Erica in the living room with her feet on the coffee table. She hadn't changed from the workout gear I'd seen her in earlier and into a red silk gown that hugged her flawless figure, and I couldn't help but admire the curves of her body as she lounged. Erica was like an Egyptian queen, laying out for her servants to feed her grapes and other fruits. She spotted me as I stopped and smirked, shooting me a wink.

I guess she was in a better mood. Maybe the fun could continue.