The Boys Next Door: An MFM Menage Romance

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The Boys Next Door: An MFM Menage Romance Page 25

by Miranda Silver


  Dammit, she’d misjudged everything. She should get out of the pool right now and go home — except that Ian’s hands gripped her waist, burning her skin underwater.

  “You wanted to talk?” she whispered. God, her voice was giving out. Hoarse.

  He was just staring at her. Finally, he spoke.

  “Not here. In my room.”

  Now her throat really was dry. Her hands squeezed Ian’s shoulders. Cool water lapped their skin. She nodded quickly. Pulling her with him, Ian swam to the side, grabbed the ledge, and heaved his dripping body out of the pool. He bent to give Diana a hand up.

  Neither of them let go. Ian’s fingers felt too good laced through hers as they crossed the lawn, pretending they weren’t still holding hands. Past the warm pressure of his palm and the hot sun on her wet body, Diana barely noticed the clack of the ping pong ball, paddles flashing, bottles clinking. Some of the twins’ friends watched her and Ian curiously as he held the back door open for her.

  The O’Brians’ long kitchen, the fancy dining room, the living room with the giant recliner that she and twins had rolled around on when they were kids, all looked so familiar, the way she’d always remembered them. But the house had changed, too: a new landscape painting over the dining table, a different couch in front of the TV.

  She was aware of Ian’s eyes on her creamy skin as they climbed the stairs and walked through the hallway, past a twenty-year photo gallery of the smiling twins. Water dripped from her swimsuit and hair, leaving a trail on the polished wood floor. Ian’s wet swim trunks clung to his legs. His arousal was very obvious through the soaked fabric. When he caught her looking, she flushed and felt her nipples harden. Their linked fingers sent flashes of heat up her arm.

  As they passed a closet, he opened the door, took out two thick towels, and wrapped one around her shoulders. Her skin tingled at the brush of soft cotton.

  “Uh…” She cleared her throat. “Do you and Brendan still share a room?” Last she remembered, the twins were thirteen and insisting on their bunk beds.

  A pause. “Nuh-uh,” Ian said finally. “But Brendan still sleeps with a nightlight.”

  Diana couldn’t keep back a spurt of laughter. “Be nice.”

  “Eh, he can take it.” His fingers tightened on hers. She was grateful for the support, because her legs were trembling. She squeezed Ian’s hand in response, trying to breathe. “More than anyone. Believe me.”

  “Oh, I believe you.”

  Pulling her into a room on the left, he closed the door.

  Posters plastered the walls and ceiling. The bunk beds were long gone. Diana eyed the low full-size bed, which to her shock was actually made. Ian’s decorating style had been wall-to-wall posters when they were kids, too. There were all the sports posters she expected, and the music posters, but instead of the generous serving of girlie pictures she’d figured was a given, there was only one — small and close to his bed.

  A pinup girl, frolicking cheerfully in a swimsuit while salt spray licked her legs. A girl with black bangs and shoulder-length hair, with pale voluptuous curves and a slim waist. A girl who looked…a lot like she did.

  Neither of them had broken the silence. Diana pointed at the picture with her free hand. Her other hand, laced through Ian’s, was starting to sweat, but no way was she letting go.

  “I’m not sure how to feel about that.”

  Ian shrugged. “I like brunettes with big tits. Surprise.” He flashed her the mocking grin that had driven her crazy when they were kids, but Diana noticed his leg jiggling, close to hers, and his hand was burning up in her grasp. “Did I ruin your date?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Good.”

  Diana sniffed, turning quickly to examine the basketball trophies that lined the dresser. Ian’s eyes, following her exposed body as she picked up each trophy and studied it, sent a hot flush over her skin. She might as well be naked in his room.

  “You’ve won a lot,” she managed to say.

  “At some things.” Ian was very close to her. “You’ve won more.”

  “Me?” She stared down at the trophies. Laughter from the backyard filtered through the window, along with summer sounds from the neighborhood: a lawn mower whirring outside, leaves rustling, cars rolling by. Ian stood inches away from her, water dripping down his chest.

  “Ian,” she said softly. When she turned to face him, their fingers unlocked. Warm skin met her hands as she pressed them against his chest. “You deserve it,” she whispered. “You deserve to win. You deserve everything.”

  God, she didn’t even know what she was saying, but his eyes widened. Hot lips closed over hers. Ian grunted, pushing her against the dresser.

  Oh Jesus, his hands were all over her, and his mouth was devouring her soft flesh, and she didn’t care how many marks he left on her. No, she did care. She wanted as many as possible.

  “Wait,” she panted before she dove in for another kiss. “We have to—“

  Oh God, Ian was sucking hard on her lower lip, hard enough to make her cry out, not letting her finish. She dug her fingers into his shoulders, so overwhelmed she squeezed harder and harder, tasting him, raking her fingers through his hair like she’d wanted to all week, trying to wrap herself around him.

  “We have to talk,” she gasped out, even as she ran her tongue over his neck and impatient fingers yanked at the red bows of her bikini top, giving up on the tight knots to fondle her breasts roughly. “You wanted to talk. So talk.” She couldn’t help panting, as Ian’s finger on her spine made her shudder and she grabbed his hand, “This time it was your idea, right? Not Brendan’s?”

  Ian’s chest rose and fell through a few deep breaths. Then he dropped his hands and inclined his head toward the bed. Diana let him guide her to the low mattress, wrapping the towel tightly around her curves. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she clenched her thighs together. Keeping space between their wet bodies — a bare inch — was the hardest thing she’d ever done.

  Ian leaned back and rubbed his forehead. His eyes never left her face. The deep flush on his cheeks and chest made Diana’s fingers itch to stroke him everywhere and never stop. She sat on both her hands. Her towel threatened to fall open, any minute.

  “Brendan always knew,” Ian said abruptly. “He knew I had a crush on you, from the time we were kids. But I’d never admit it to him, and the times he said something, I said you were an obnoxious little priss and no way.”

  Diana’s mouth fell open. For a minute, she couldn’t speak. “You teased me constantly.”

  “And you gave it back so well.” A grin flashed across Ian’s face. “So well.”

  She blinked, stunned. Slowly, she pulled her hands out from underneath her. Her gaze moved to the trophies on the dresser, the open window with a view of her bedroom shaded by the huge tree, the photo of the curvaceous pinup girl near the bed, and back to Ian. He was stretched out on the bed, but tension lifted his shoulders, like he was holding his breath.

  “Why?” she asked finally. “Why would you never admit it?”

  “You’re so smart, Diana.” His voice dropped. “It’s kinda scary.”

  “I’m not…” She broke off. “I’m not. There’s a lot that I don’t know.”

  Ian’s lips twitched. “Don’t say that. I’m not even kidding.”

  “You could have any girl—“

  “Except you.” Hazel eyes held hers. “You just stopped talking to me. You stopped looking at me. You acted like you were too good—“

  “I was shy.” She cut in, frustrated. “I was nervous. That year we moved away — I came back terrified.” Her voice dropped. She made herself hold Ian’s gaze. “I was so scared of everybody. I thought if I talked to you, you’d just laugh at me, or — make fun of these.” She gestured to her full breasts, spilling over the yellow bikini top. Her towel had fallen down to the mattress, somewhere in the conversation, and she hadn’t even noticed.

  Ian blinked a few times. His hand closed over hers t
o give it a quick, firm squeeze. “Diana, what happened?” His tone was softer. “You wouldn’t tell Brendan. People tell Brendan all kinds of crazy shit. And you barely told me.”

  She breathed in and out a few times. “People called me a slut,” she murmured finally.

  “What? Why?” Hazel eyes peered at her, stunned. “Back then? You were just little baby Diana.”

  “Well, you thought so.”

  A sly grin flickered across Ian’s face. “Maybe not. But I never—“ He shook his head. “Jesus,” he muttered. “You poor kid.” His hand shifted so he could rub her wrist with his thumb. “What about now?” She could barely hear him, but his eyes didn’t leave hers. “Do you like it when I call you that?”

  “Little baby Diana? Hell, no.” She tried to laugh.

  “You know what I’m saying.” He didn’t smile back.

  “Yes.” Sudden warmth flushed all her curves. She leaned over him to whisper. “I like it when you call me a slut, Ian. It’s not exactly the same, in case you didn’t know.”

  His face stayed serious. “What happened?” he asked again.

  “Things.” She took another deep breath. “Stupid things. A guy— grabbed me the first day, and there were rumors, and mean boys and mean girls, and it felt like it would never end. I was alone and I came home not trusting anyone. I didn’t even know who I was by the end of the year,” she said softly, “because everyone thought I was someone else.” Ian watched her, listening silently. “I was so scared of making the rumors true, without even meaning to. But, Ian—“ She stroked his hand. His large palm felt so good against hers. “It doesn’t matter so much now. Maybe sometime, I’ll tell you the whole story. But it doesn’t belong here. It doesn’t hurt anymore. And anyway,” she added quickly, “you ignored me. I stopped talking to Brendan too. And basically anyone male. You wouldn’t even say hello.”

  Ian just shook his head. He kept her fingers in his. Warmth pulsed over her whole body from his touch.

  “I really missed you when you came back,” he said quietly. “Wish I’d known what happened. I figured you’d come back too stuck-up to hang out with us.”

  “Missed you too,” she murmured. “I didn’t know how to talk to you.”

  Ian squeezed her hand. “That day Brendan came back from your house and told me he kissed you, and it was your first kiss— He tried to make me feel better about it. Even though we hadn’t talked about you in awhile. He said it just happened, and he wanted to help you out, and then you asked for more, and you were all grown up and gorgeous and he’d asked you to come over later so I could, uh, see you too.” A little smile twitched his lips. “I told him to have fun, because—“ he broke off, red creeping up his neck.

  “Because?” prompted Diana.

  “Because you were a frigid little bitch who’d never warm up past freezing, and he was wasting his time.”

  “Thanks, Ian,” she said drily.

  “I didn’t really think that.” Ian lay back on his bed, arms folded under his head, his eyes focused on her face. Diana wanted to tug the tufts of hair under his arms. “I had this feeling that under your ice princess outside was a crazy hot girl who’d burn me up if I got close enough. And yeah. I was right.”

  God, Ian was talking about burning up, but she was the one whose skin was hot and fizzing, and she didn’t know if the drops trickling down her back and into the valley of her cleavage were pool water or sweat. She squeezed her thighs together, aware of Ian’s gaze roaming over her exposed skin and clinging swimsuit. Her throat was dry. Parched.

  “And?”

  Ian’s eyelids flickered. “Brendan talked me into hitting on you too, just to see what happened. The way he put it, you were a shy little virgin with a wild side that was just waiting to come out, and we were the guys to help you with that. I really didn’t think it would work. And when it did, I figured it was all Brendan. Nothing would happen between you and me without him around. He has a nice smooth touch.” Ian gave her an evil grin. “He’s the kind of guy that—“

  “My mom wants me to be with,” Diana finished. “Except she has no idea who he actually is. And he likes it that way.”

  Ian raked his fingers through his drying hair. Little drops of water clung to his bare shoulders and the tips of his chest hair. Diana couldn’t take it anymore. She knelt on the bed right over him, straddling him with her knees pressed to the sheets on either side. Not quite settling on his lap, but leaning over him, looking down at his near-naked body.

  “You could have asked me.” She drew a drop of water down his chest with one fingertip. “You guys were backstage making your plans and agreements.”

  Ian shrugged, a little smile playing over his mouth. A hand squeezed the curve of her hip and stayed there. “You weren’t complaining.”

  No. She definitely hadn’t been complaining.

  “Brendan asked me, after you spent the night. Oh, I heard you were up early. I heard you were taking care of Diana. If you want something more from her, tell me now. I kept telling him no, she’s just little Diana from next door, and she’s hot now, and we’re all just fooling around. And he finally said he believed me because he figured I’d only tell him the truth. But he always knew.”

  “Those girls at the club—“ she flushed. “Did you plan that too?”

  Ian shook his head. He looked embarrassed, she was pleased to see. She couldn’t resist tickling his nipples, feeling them harden into tiny pebbles. He laughed, writhing underneath her, and grabbed her hands. God, she could see how turned on he was, the bulge tenting his swim trunks, and it took everything she had not to sink down and rub against him.

  “Brendan thought—“ he broke off. “He wanted to see how much we could get you to let go that night. If, you know, we helped you get comfortable enough. We came really fucking close to having an argument before we picked you up. I’ll be honest, I wanted to see it too, but I also…didn’t. But Brendan thought it would be so great for you. And to tell you the truth, he was pushing me too. Inside, he was as close as Brendan ever gets to pissed that I wasn’t admitting how I felt about you. So we talked about what might happen if you were totally open to trusting us, and the only hard rule we made was no other guys.”

  “So you didn’t know the girls.”

  “Didn’t even know their names.” Ian rubbed his hands over her back. Diana shivered with pleasure. Her fingertip found the freckle under Ian’s eye and stroked gently. “It was all about you with them. When I woke up, I thought it was you touching me.”

  “Sorry,” she whispered. A sudden pinch on her ass made her wriggle.

  “Brendan probably got their numbers.” Ian flashed her a wicked smile. Her cheeks were red now, she knew. “If you want a repeat.”

  “Jerk.” She poked him in the ribs.

  “You made that girl come pretty hard.” Ian slapped her ass lightly. “And I’d never figured you for a screamer.”

  “That was with you. When you were—“ Diana broke off. “And once was enough for now, thanks,” she added hastily. “I know that’s just a typical Saturday night out for you, but—“

  “It wasn’t,” Ian said quietly. “Not even close.”

  “But you’ve gotten crazy before.” She was pushing now, but she had to say it. “You and Brendan. You’ve been with the same girl, before me. I saw you with Lauren.” She waited.

  “Lauren?” Ian peered up at her, obviously confused. Diana cleared her throat loudly. Twisting her hands free of his grasp, she pushed his damp hair back from his forehead and leaned close enough for their noses to touch.

  “Lauren Kalinowski? Your girlfriend, senior year in high school? At least for a month or two? Who you’ve clearly forgotten about because there’ve been so many girls since then?”

  “Oh. Right. Lauren.” Red spread over over Ian’s cheeks. “You noticed her with me in high school?”

  The surprised expression on his face couldn’t be real. But all of this was real. “Of course I noticed,” she said softly. “I noticed
everything about you and Brendan. When I ran into you guys by that vending machine—“

  “I remember that.” Ian grinned. “You, walking around with your nose in the air, and me, bending over fucking backwards trying to make you laugh.”

  “I was trying so hard not to.” The laughter bubbled up now. Ian, rolling the can of Sprite up and down his bare chest — how had she kept it together? She dropped her face into his neck to giggle. “But when I saw you both leaving with your girlfriend—“ She straightened up, hiccuping. “I wondered.”

  Ian nodded reluctantly. “She was the first. It happened, and it worked, so it kept happening.” Diana waited, her eyebrows raised. Ian sighed. “The first time, you can guess we were all pretty drunk. She was flirting hardcore with us both, saying she could tell us apart with the lights on, but she bet she couldn’t tell us apart in the dark. We went for it. Afterwards, we gave her a ride home, and me and Brendan just drove for awhile — Brendan drove — and then we sat in our backyard for awhile, and finally he said, ‘Okay, that was good, we make a good team, but there’s a lot of of ways we can up our game, so let’s go over it. You want to try again?’ And we did. We got a lot of practice.”

  “Could she?” Diana murmured.

  “What?” Hazel eyes blinked up at her. God, Ian was gorgeous.

  “Could she tell you apart in the dark?”

  “I don’t even know. I didn’t ask her.” He gave her a half-smile. “It wasn’t like with you. Nothing like you. You know what it was like before, when me and Brendan teamed up?” His voice went high. “‘Ooohh, let’s look at your cocks side by side and see if they’re exactly the same. Ooohh, let’s see who cums first.’ Stuff like that.”

  “Poor you.”

  “Diana, it’s been completely different with you. From the beginning—“ Ian’s eyes were half-closed now, his hands stroking her arms. “I couldn’t believe I was touching you. I couldn’t believe I was fucking you. Being your first — I thought for sure you’d want Brendan.”

 

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