Brendan answered their questions smoothly while Ian stood with one hand in his pocket and the other holding his lemonade, nodding at the right times. He and his brother had clearly agreed beforehand that Brendan would do all the talking.
“We’re just taking her out for ice cream,” Brendan was saying now, his voice reassuring. Diana had to tear her eyes away from his broad shoulders, filling out his blue striped button-down shirt, only to land on Ian in his black muscle tee, leaning against the mantel.“We know how hard Diana’s worked the past four years. She told us it means so much to her, the way you’ve supported her all this time.” Jesus. This was laying it on thick, even for Brendan.
“Well, she has a very bright future.” That from her father, while her mother was exclaiming, “Did you know Diana’s going off to Yale with almost a full semester of credits? And she was editor-in-chief of the literary magazine, and she won a national science award—“
“Mom, school’s out,” Diana interrupted. And while Brendan was agreeing that yes, Diana had lots of talents, she chanced a glance at Ian, who just looked at her innocently.
“Lots of talents,” he whispered. “I’ll give you something to put on your resume.”
Her snort of laughter was loud enough for the room to hear, and now both her parents were watching them.
“Brendan, you’re driving, right?” Her mother shot a concerned look in Ian’s direction. “Ian, your mother was telling me about your license being suspended—“
“Mom,” Diana gritted.
“That was back in high school, Mrs. Cooper.” Ian knocked back the rest of his lemonade. Diana tried to catch his eye, maybe share a smile, but he wasn’t looking at her now.
“Of course I’m driving.” Brendan held up the keys, jangling them to announce his squeaky-clean record. “Don’t worry.” He gave Diana’s mother a winning smile and shook her father’s hand. “We’ll have her back safe and sound.”
He shepherded Diana out the front door, Ian following, while her parents waved and her mom gave Diana a look she could only interpret as, Think about that Brendan, will you? He’s really a nice boy.
As soon as the front door closed, Brendan tossed the keys to his brother. Ian caught them one-handed.
“Get us there fast, bro,” Brendan said under his breath.
Before Diana knew it, she was riding shotgun, Brendan relaxed in the back, and Ian peeled away from the curb, tires squealing.
“Jesus, Ian,” Diana gasped. “My parents—“ She twisted over her shoulder, sure she’d see their horrified faces at the front window. The smell of burning rubber filled the air.
“Too late.” Ian let out a whoop, cranked up the stereo, and spun the wheel, careening around a corner.
Diana grabbed the handle above the door and glanced back at Brendan -- smiling and unconcerned, one arm stretched along the back seat. How could he not be completely freaked out by his brother’s driving? Ian rolled down all the windows, letting the thudding bass rock the neighborhood.
Doors opened as people came to see what the noise was about, shaking their heads when they recognized the Jeep. Ian waved at them all.
“Diana Cooper? Is that you?” a neighbor called from the corner, and she managed a thumbs-up just as Ian stepped on the gas.
“Holy shit,” she croaked over the throttle of the engine. This was…this was…fun. In a completely terrifying way. The wheels bumped over the road, sending reverberations through Diana’s body. The bass vibrated her skin. Waking her up, making her very aware of her crotch rubbing against the passenger seat, her nipples hardening under her jacket, the seatbelt restraining her.
But she couldn’t keep back a yelp when Ian bounced the car right over a pothole. A soothing hand found her neck. From behind, Brendan stroked her hair.
“You smell good, Di,” he said reassuringly. “I like your perfume.” One finger slipped under the collar of her jean jacket, and her thighs clenched.
“Ian’s going to get us all killed,” she moaned.
“Not a chance. You trust us, right, Di?”
Her face went hot. Her everything went hot. She wasn’t likely to forget gasping out that she trusted the twins while Brendan fucked her more deeply than she could have thought possible and Ian licked and squeezed her aroused body. Sweat pooled under her arms, but she didn’t have the nerve to slip off her jacket yet.
“I — yeah, I trust you,” she murmured, shivering when Brendan’s fingers found her collarbone. She couldn’t help letting out a sigh at his touch on her smooth skin, so close to the top of her firm breast. When the sound escaped her mouth, a warm hand landed on her bare knee, inching up toward her bright red dress. Ian glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, that little smirk on his face, and a shudder ran through her body. She was starting to get wet. Right there in the car, her legs were opening to Ian’s touch, her shoulders were arching back towards Brendan’s hand, and she just wanted the two of them to unbutton her jacket and strip everything off —
Then the air flew out of her in a gasp when Ian ran a stop sign.
“Eyes on the road,” she snapped.
“Yes, ma’am.” Ian’s fingers burned a path up her leg, sliding under her hem. Brendan’s chuckle from the back seat, his fingers tangled in her hair, only fired up her nervous excited irritation.
“And both hands on the wheel.” God, she did sound like a priss, just like Ian had accused her the night everything started.
Ian immediately took his other hand off the steering wheel.
“Ian!” she screeched.
“Scared you?” He smiled evilly, gave her leg a squeeze, and dropped his hand back on the wheel.
Jesus Christ, what was going on? This wasn’t the Ian who had taken her ass two nights ago, with infinite patience, murmuring sweet words as she relaxed and opened to him. Or maybe it was. But she knew that reckless grin on Ian’s face.
Back when they were kids, the twins had convinced her to climb up on the O’Brians’ roof. Workers had left a tall ladder leaning against the house. The sloping tiles had terrified Diana, but she was determined to prove she wasn’t a scaredy cat. If the twins were going somewhere, she wanted to go there too.
Though both twins had been perched up high, Brendan encouraging her to climb while Ian teased her that he bet she couldn’t do it, Ian was the one who’d worn a sling after he fractured his collarbone tumbling into the bushes; Ian was the one who got grounded by his parents for a month because he’d convinced Diana to climb up there too; Ian was the one with the consequences.
The next day, doing homework in her room, Diana had spotted Ian silently climbing up the ladder and pulling himself, one-armed, back onto the roof. It had been ten years ago, but when he’d caught her eye, that reckless grin was the same. And as scared as she’d felt for him, she couldn’t help grinning back.
A nudge on her thigh brought her back to the speeding Jeep. Ian's finger teased the edge of her panties.
“Stick your head out the window, Diana,” he urged. “Just do it.”
A faceful of wind hit her. She didn’t dare look at the speedometer. Her wet hair blew everywhere, whipping her cheeks, turning into a total mess in seconds. She could barely see, the world was hurtling by, and all she could do was laugh. Hysterically.
It felt like getting high with her friends, but crazier, the rush and the speed and the wind pulling her out of control, Brendan’s hand slipping further down her jacket to toy with her bra strap and fondle the beginning of her round breast, Ian’s hand inching up her bright red dress, so close to her hot center—
“Are you ready to get wild, Diana?” Ian yelled over the wind.
“Wild?” She pushed her tousled hair out of her eyes. “Like how wild?”
“Wild.” His grin got bigger.
“Ian—“
“Cop car,” Brendan murmured from the back. His voice was low, but it cut through the screeching guitars and growling vocals.
Ian braked sharply, slowing down just until the poli
ce car was out of sight. Then he floored the gas again.
“Everyone in this car knows the truth, baby.” Ian’s voice was soft and teasing now. “You’re a bad, bad girl. Tonight’s your night to live it.”
Oh God, Ian’s finger had slipped inside her soaked panties, stroking her moist folds, and she squirmed against his touch, gasping when he nudged her clit. Brendan’s thumb rubbed over her neck. Cars were honking, streetlights streaked by, and the music blaring from the speakers vibrated her whole body.
“We’ll look out for you, Di.” Brendan’s voice managed to be soothing — underneath the beats grinding out of the stereo. She couldn’t help arching her back to get more contact with his hand, her thighs spreading wider to Ian’s teasing finger. “You can do whatever you want tonight. But we have a lot of ideas.”
Sweet Jesus, what did that even mean? But what came out of her mouth was, “Just tonight?”
“Attagirl,” Ian muttered. Those hazel eyes flicked constantly between Diana’s curves and the road, pricking her skin with hot need as the car roared over asphalt. She didn’t dare tease him back while he was driving like a maniac — but it was so tempting. She couldn’t resist running just one fingertip over the hard bulge in his jeans. The strangled sound Ian made, his free hand tightening on the wheel, was all the invitation she needed to squeeze his cock fully. She could feel her juices trickling over his fingers.
“So, Di.” She could hear the grin in Brendan’s voice too, and the arousal beneath it. His hand dipped further into her jacket, stroking her breast right where it began to swell out from her chest. “What kind of ice cream did you get?”
*
They were downtown. Lights and noise from the street spilled into the parking lot. Diana’s stomach clenched, nervous and excited, as Ian shoved the keys in his pocket — jeez, he hadn’t even put a seatbelt on — and jumped out of the Jeep. She squeezed her thighs together, trying to get herself under control, and smoothed down her wind-tousled hair. Better check her makeup — oh, she needed more lipstick. She was stalling, she knew. Behind her, she heard Brendan’s door swing open.
On an impulse, Diana took off her black-rimmed glasses and slipped them into the pocket of her jean jacket. Then she sucked in a deep breath and shrugged the denim off her shoulders. The night was hot and sticky, but as the fabric slid over her skin, goosebumps pricked her bare arms and exposed cleavage.
Warm hands closed over hers, helping her out of the car. She squinted, trying to bring the fuzzed edges of the scene into focus. The streetlights were haloed now, the neon softened. She could see, but everything was slightly blurred outside a certain radius, hazed over, making it less real.
But there was no mistaking the delighted smile that spread over Brendan’s face as she straightened up, or Ian’s hungry stare. Oh God, did she ever feel naked, out in the open air without her glasses and jacket.
Two pairs of hazel eyes traveled over the dark hair brushing her bare shoulders, the low-cut neckline that outlined her creamy swells and deep cleavage, the pop of the bright red dress against her paleness, the clinging fabric that showed off her rounded hips and ass and stopped well above her knees to expose smooth skin that hadn’t seen the light of day or night in years. Her high heels lengthened her whole body and thrust her breasts forward even more.
“Let’s go,” she managed, her throat dry.
When Brendan’s hand found her back, guiding her firmly across the concrete, and Ian dropped a casual arm over her shoulders like it just happened to be there, she tried to breathe normally.
Heads actually swiveled to follow them on the bustling sidewalk. No surprise there. Tall, bronzed, and athletic, the twins probably attracted attention wherever they went.
But when Diana let herself look up, out, and around, she flushed at all the eyes on her face and curves. It wasn’t just the twins turning heads as the three of them walked past busy restaurants and bars. People were actually checking her out. Men, women — some furtively, some appreciatively.
As they crossed the street, the twins’ touches burning her skin, a group of college-age guys passed by, their heads whipping around to ogle Diana like they’d coordinated it: one, two, three.
Instead of staring straight ahead and pretending not to notice, she looked right back at them, boldly. One guy almost walked into oncoming traffic, the second’s eyes were glued to her creamy cleavage, and the third tried a smile, then narrowly missed tripping on the pavement.
Diana managed to play it cool until they were out of sight. Then she grabbed Brendan’s arm to keep from falling over herself. Her eyes met Ian's. He just raised his eyebrows.
“You’re walking sex, baby," he growled softly in her ear. "Better get used to it."
Brendan’s hand closed securely around hers, guiding her toward a line of people that stretched down the sidewalk.
Music pulsed from the front door. Inside, bodies gyrated under flickering lights. The building was practically shaking from bass vibrations, about to explode from a good time.
Diana hesitated. She didn’t do clubs. She was allergic to dancing — public, private, any kind. Three Saturday nights ago, when all her friends had been at prom — ironically, or so they claimed — she’d passed the time pawing through five-dollar vinyl bins at her favorite music store, then headed home to get a jump on her Hamlet paper, and told herself it was exactly how she wanted to spend the evening.
“I don’t have a fake,” she said quickly. And the twins had probably had theirs since they were sixteen.
“You don’t need one.” Brendan’s hand was firm on her shoulder. “It’s 18 and up. Come on, Di.”
Ian bumped her hip, nudging her forward. Before she knew it, the bouncer waved them to the door, took the money Brendan held out, stamped their hands, and told them to have a good time.
Inside the dark club, the sound — loud enough from the sidewalk outside — almost knocked Diana down. Red and blue lights criss-crossed the darkness, masses of people around her twisted and danced, and music reverberated off the walls. Instinctively, she grabbed both the twins’ hands.
“You think you just graduated, baby,” Ian said in her ear, his voice low but audible over the noise. “This is where your education starts.”
But suddenly, that education looked just out of reach. Her legs refused to move. Leaving her glasses in the car had been a mistake. The dance floor was one big blur. The club was crowded, thick with people.
After everything she’d done the past two weeks, this should be easy, right? But she was frozen, rooted to the spot.
“Air,” she whispered. Two sets of hazel eyes looked at her — one pair inviting, the other challenging. They hadn’t heard. “I need some air,” she yelled over the music. Her heart was hammering now, and she couldn’t catch her breath. Dammit, she hadn’t really changed, had she? Still so fucking shy. “I need to go outside.”
The door was five feet away. She had to get out, now.
“Di.” Brendan’s hand dropped on her shoulder. “No ins and outs under 21.”
“That’s fine. There’s not going to be any in. Just out. And I—“
She broke off, because Brendan was giving Ian a significant look over her head and Ian was nodding.
“Back in a sec,” Brendan said in her ear. He gave her shoulders a firm squeeze and kissed her cheek. His steady touch calmed her — a little. She gripped Ian’s hand, grateful for his tight hold on her palm. “Ian’s going to take care of you. Just trust us, okay, Di?”
She managed one nod. Panic sloshed through her stomach, mixed with embarrassment. Normal people came to places like this to have fun. What the hell was wrong with her?
Ian grasped both her arms, walking her rapidly over to a quieter spot against the wall, pushing her firmly against the black-painted concrete and holding her there.
She gulped for breath. The wall felt so good against her back. Solid. She felt Ian squeeze her shoulders, heard him order her to breathe. She just wanted to relax into his touch, bu
t she was one tight knot from head to toe.
“I’m a freak,” she said despairingly.
“Damn straight you are.” Ian gave her a wry grin. “You’re really weird. See what happens when you study all the time, and never hang out with your friends, and ignore your nice next-door neighbors, and pretend you’re scared of boys when you really want them to fuck you into next week—“
“You wish.” Her face flamed.
His grin widened. “That’s better. Remember your graduation speech?”
“I wrote it for you too,” she blurted.
A pause. Ian cupped the back of her neck, his hand warm against her skin. Diana could barely hear his answer over the floor-shaking bass, but she was pretty sure he said, “Thought so.”
She managed a smile. “There’s a nice library down the block. Too bad they’re closed.”
Ian’s appalled expression was everything she could have hoped for. She started to laugh.
“Ten minutes, Diana.” He leaned close, his voice warm against her ear. Urgent. “Ten minutes here, and if you want to leave after that, we leave. Okay? We go home or get ice cream or go to the fucking library or whatever you want.”
“And Brendan drives?”
Ian shook his head. “Fine. Brendan drives. You’re in charge, baby.”
What a joke. She wasn’t even close to being in charge. But as Ian massaged her neck, tugging her hair lightly, she began to relax. There was no mistaking the concern on his face. But his eyes also traveled the slope of her shoulders and collarbone to the creamy roundness of her cleavage, swelling from her tight red dress. Heat spread out from his gaze.
Her stomach unknotted. When she pressed her forehead against Ian’s shoulder, a finger slipped under the strap of her dress, teasing her smooth skin. His touch sent sudden arousal straight between her legs, and now she just wanted him to slide the strap off her shoulder, pull her dress down to expose her full breasts, and—
“Okay.” She nodded quickly. “Ten minutes.”
Swiftly, Ian clapped a hand on her back and maneuvered her through the crowd. He was moving too fast for her to get overwhelmed by the flickering lights and the fuzz of bodies as he pushed through all the people, propelling her to the very center of the dance floor.
The Boys Next Door: An MFM Menage Romance Page 17