by Hart, Lane
After she was out of sight I called her brother to get my mind out of the never-going-to-fucking-happen-so-get-over-it gutter. Jules was so damn sweet and innocent, and just an all-around good person. Will would cut off my enormous junk if he knew I'd ever gotten hard for her, even if it had only occurred on just a few (daily) occasions in high school, then last year (weekly). Maybe a few times last month. Probably again five minutes from now.
I was definitely not boyfriend or dating material. I had proven this by the fact that my longest relationship had lasted less than a month, with a clingy gold digger. Money had given me some severe trust issues. Jules deserved a nice, decent guy that worshipped the ground she walked on, not someone like me who would only defile her and break her heart. Besides, Megan had a reputation as a slutty little freak, which is exactly what I wanted. No, scratch that, needed. Hot, sweaty, down and dirty fucking with no financial strings attached sounded so good I was about to come just thinking about her riding my cock. Damn it, why did imagining Jules in Megan's place make it even hotter? It had to be that Jules was just so pure and innocent, that convincing her to give it up for a nasty romp would be a sweeter victory than hooking up with a woman who's probably already screwed the brains out of most of the men in the city. Too bad I'd never find out what rocked the shy woman's world, or have a chance to rock it myself.
"Hey, man … so what's going on tonight?" Will asked, when he answered right away. Hearing his voice was like dumping an ice cold bucket of water on me. A much needed reminder of the hands-off policy with his sister. He'd been like a brother to me since we were nine years old, and I loved his family like my own. I wouldn't do anything to ruin a friendship that I'd had for more than a damn decade. Being filthy rich made actual decent friends hard to come by.
"Honest to God toga party at the Tri Sigs," I told him.
"No shit! So the slutty Sigs will be wearing even less than normal?"
"Yep," I told him, then cringed thinking about how his sister might be one of the Tri Sigs soon. She probably wouldn't be wearing much tonight either. Not that I'd mind, but he probably would. Ah, I'll let it be a surprise. It'll be so crowded, we probably won't even run into her.
Chapter Two
Julie Reavis
I walked through the open front door of the Sigma, Sigma, Sigma sorority house, and almost ran smack dab into my annoyingly protective older brother. Shit.
"Jules? What the hell are you doing here?" Will asked, then looked down at my toga in revulsion. "And what the fuck are you wearing?"
I glanced down blushing, even though I knew it would appear the same as it had when I'd left my dorm five minutes earlier. I'd fashioned my toga into a tied halter top, with a high tapered empire waist, and deep 'V' to show off my rack, sans bra. I'd left it loose and flowing to hide my curvier (blubbery fat) areas, until it hit a little (okay, maybe a lot) above my knees. I'd even borrowed my roommate's gold heels and matching hip purse that looked somewhat Greek, since I didn't have any pockets for my dorm keys in the short, thin sheet.
"It's a toga, jackass. Just like the one you're wearing."
I couldn't help smiling at my brother. He was only two years older than me, with the same wavy brown hair and green eyes. He wore glasses, and was only five or six inches taller. His attempt at Greek just made him look like the Ghost of Parties Past.
"No, your toga is about one fourth of the one I'm wearing," he complained. I rolled my eyes as I looked around the room for my brother's tall, gay boyfriend. I finally found him talking to one of the pretty blondes from lunch.
Whereas most guys standing around the big crowded room looked rather dumpy in their white togas (like my brother), Dylan somehow made the white sash work with his gigantic, lean, six foot four frame. Well, his frame wasn't as lanky and lean as it used to be, I couldn't help but notice. He was showing a lot of smooth, muscular, tan skin tonight. Finally filling out all his height, and with his short sandy blonde hair, sensual pouty lips that begged to be kissed, and strong golden jawline, he looked like a Greek god. Or even better, Kellan Lutz. I suddenly understood the Tri Sigs mischaracterization - Dylan looked too damn good to be straight.
Of course, I couldn't look at the man without thinking about that night with him in Vegas almost a year ago. We'd all flown in for our friends Tyler and Jess's wedding. Since I had been a last minute edition, I had to share a room with Will and Dylan.
The first night, Dylan came back to our room early, and without my brother. I'd already gone to sleep in the queen bed on the left that we'd all three previously agreed would be mine, with Dylan in the queen bed on the right, and my brother on the pull out sofa.
Dylan "accidentally" climbed into my bed with me, instead of his own. Reaching out in the darkness, his big, seeking hand had felt me up, startling me awake. At first I was certain it was just one of my more realistic dreams about being with the man I’d lusted after for the better part of my teen years. Then, Dylan’s deep soothing voice interrupted the quiet silence of the night, so close to me that I shivered when he said, "Oh shit! Sorry, Jules." For some reason he continued lying beside me, which confused me until I woke up a bit more, and realized that despite his words, he still hadn’t removed his hand. In fact it began taking a slow, caressing expedition up my leg, with a layover on my ass. His hand was so warm it felt like it could burn a hole in my pajama bottoms. Not wanting him to move his hand, or ever cease touching me, I'd responded with a quiet, sleepy, "Don’t stop." When Dylan breathlessly asked if I was sure, he sounded as if he was just as affected as I was at our first intimate encounter. I didn't even hesitate with my barely audible, "Yes."
With the green light to go ahead, Dylan's lips had found mine, kissing me tentatively while his traveling hand slowly and gently eased its way up underneath my pajama top. My breathing stopped altogether when his fingertips skimmed over the bare skin at my waist, before he moved up and cupped my breast in his palm. He groaned before he began fondling and teasing my nipples, sending a jolt of arousal through my entire body. With a new urgency, our tongues had thrust desperately and suggestively against each other's, and my shirt had been on its way off when we heard my brother's keycard unlock the door. I'd never seen a man move so quick. Dylan dove lightning fast into the other bed, a second before my brother came into the room and shut the door behind him.
The next morning while Will was in the shower, Dylan apologized and claimed he'd been drunk, before begging me not to tell Will. I never intended to discuss what had happened between us with my brother, and went along with the lie that he had been inebriated.
I'd been crushed, thinking his behavior the night before had occurred because he finally, after all these years, actually wanted me. I let myself wallow in disappointed for a few days, before getting back to reality. I knew he'd never feel that way about me. And so, I had never brought it up again, and we'd never spoken of it since our plane landed back in town. If only I could stop thinking about it.
"Well, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to grab a drink," I told my brother. I needed to get away from him, and to cool down from the flush of my frisky mental replay.
"It better not be alcoholic," he yelled across the room, and I pretended to ignore him.
After I filled a big red plastic cup from the Daughtry's beer keg, I found a nice place to do my wall flower thing while I waited for my roommate, Steph.
One of the girls from lunch walked up, while I stood there looking out of place. Another pretty, skinny blonde. Glancing around, yep, most of these slutty chicks had yellow locks with dark roots showing, and were slender size twos. Just another example of how I didn't fit in with my long, all natural brown waves, and size eight curvy body. Fine, I'm a size ten when I'm PMS-ing.
"Hey, it's Julie, right? Dylan's boyfriend's sister?" she asked. I couldn't suppress my smile. Will was going to be super pissed when he found out they think he's gay too.
"Yep. That's me. I didn't catch your name earlier," I said to be nice.
"Stacy. That
's Megan, our president," she said pointing to the blonde still with Dylan, "And that's Amber," she said nodding to the other familiar woman across the room. "I'm the pledge president, and I'm so glad you came. We'd love to have you rush!"
"Really?" I asked skeptically.
"Yes! You're so pretty, like a dead ringer for Mandy Moore. And you look really smart. I bet you have what, like a three point five GPA?"
"Three point nine actually," I told her. Academics have always been the one and only thing I excelled at.
"Awesome! We could definitely use the boost," she said excitedly. Oh, right. They didn't want to be friends with me or hang out. They wanted my GPA to help offset their sinking fake blonde ones. Either way, it seemed like my best chance to meet guys. They had them half-dressed and lining up outside the door to get in.
"Okay. What do I need to do?" I asked.
"Just come to our meeting here on Tuesday night at seven. We'll go over all the details then. And I'm pretty sure we can even waive your induction fees! We don’t just want you, we need you to help us all academically."
"Wow. Thanks," I told her, genuinely grateful. I didn't even think about having to pay to join, and excess cash was not something I had. I was only at an expensive and prestigious private school like Madison because of the full scholarship they offered. I knew better than to ask my hardworking parents for money, especially for something so frivolous.
"Well, have fun tonight, and I hope to see you at tomorrow night's party too!" she said, before moving back through the crowd.
I was still lost in thoughts of rushing when someone grabbed my big red cup right out of my damn hand.
"What the-" I turned around and looked up, and then up higher to get a glimpse of the giant thief's face.
"Not for another year, Jules," Dylan grinned his perfect dazzling smile down at me, before he threw the gold liquid back in one big gulp.
Hearing "Jules" from his lips sent a tingly caress down my spine, just like every other time he said it. After all, he was the one that had gifted me with the now familiar nickname all those years ago.
I still remember the first time a little nine-year-old Dylan snuck into my room. He must have heard me conversing with my silent, fuzzy tea party gang, and come to investigate. There I was at my two foot high table wearing a poufy pink princess dress, along with my favorite tiara decorated by big, fake, colorful gemstones. I was serving up tiny cups of tea and homemade sugar cookies with sprinkles on top to my various stuffed animals. Dylan, rail thin and tall for his age even back then, came in and smiled down at me mischievously. I waited for him to tease me like my brother always did, but he didn't. Instead he stole my last cookie and said, "Thanks, Princess Jules." Shoving the entire cookie quickly into his mouth, he reached down and tugged on one of my braids before running off to play with Will.
I couldn't even be mad at his thievery, not when he'd been so gracious and had addressed me with the sweet royal title and nickname.
From that day on I was always Jules to Dylan. The name caught on and I became Jules to my brother. Shortly thereafter my own parents even started calling me Jules, since they thought it was so cute and clever because of my ever present tiara.
I've never minded the nickname, but no one said it the same way as Dylan. I'm sure it was just my ridiculous hormones and overactive imagination, but his use of those five letters almost sounded heavier than everyone else's, like it was a term of endearment. It's preposterous and crazy, but hearing him say Jules sounds more like he was referring to a collection of rare and expensive gemstones, rather than simply a nickname for Julie.
It's amazing what nonsense my school girl crush can come up with after years of lusting after Dylan. I figure he still sees me as the seven-year-old girl with pigtails who talked to her teddy bears. God knows my brother did.
"Bastard," I muttered, without any venom behind it, in response to him beer-blocking me. Thirteen years later and the man was still robbing me.
"Hey, it's Daughtry's!" he exclaimed in surprise, before placing the empty cup back into my hand. "Why don't you run along like a good little wench and fill that back up for me?" the tall ass jerk had the audacity to ask.
"Get your own beer," I replied in mock outrage.
"That is my beer," he said with a smug smile. Rich, beer brewing prick.
"Yeah, well, Budweiser is better," I said, just to piss him off. Dylan gasped before he closed the distance between us, covering my mouth with one of his massive hands.
"Don't you dare utter that filthy 'B' word in front of me," he whispered in horror.
He jerked back like he'd been burnt when my tongue snaked out and licked a line up the center of his palm. It worked in getting him to remove it from my mouth. After it was done though, I realized how stupid that was on my part. I didn't know where his hand had been. Ew.
"Gross," Dylan said in agreement, reaching out to run his hand down the side of my toga sheet to dry it off. The action tugged at my halter, and I had to adjust it. For an instant his eyes dipped down to my cleavage, before he raised them back to mine to see if he'd been caught. I smiled and arched an eyebrow in acknowledgement, although I was anything but offended. It wasn't really his fault he was more than a foot taller than me (and most other women). The man was like a boob seeking giraffe.
"Why don't you quit sneaking peeks down my toga, and run along to find your boyfriend?" I asked, which made him laugh.
"Don't tell Will, but," he paused, glanced down again meaningfully, then leaned forward so I could hear his lowered voice. "Lately I've been getting aroused whenever I see a nice pair of titties."
I barely held back my shiver. There was no doubt about it, Dylan was definitely looking down my top, making my face turn fire engine red from his sexually charged words. All of which sent a spark of arousal firing through me. But wait, there's more! Billy Mays's ghost kindly advised.
"I've even had some really naughty dreams about filling my hands with the soft, heavy swells, and sometimes even tasting them," he added, sensually licking his scrumptious bottom lip.
My nipples tingled and became hypersensitive from the memory of how it'd felt having him caress my breasts while he kissed me until the room felt like it was spinning. I heard Dylan's low muttered curse when he noticed my very obvious nipples perk up through the thin, white fabric as if to say, "Hi, remember us?"
"Your hetero-erotic secret's safe with me," I told him, looking up into his deep green eyes. I'm sure he understood that I was assuring him I wouldn't tell Will what he'd said, or that his eyes had roamed over me in such a sensual way. He knew I hadn't told Will about Vegas either. I may have a crush, but I wasn't delusional. Nothing was ever going to happen with Dylan. He'd just been horny that one night I happened to be in his room, conveniently in one of the beds. I'd never be anything more than Will's innocent, chubby little sister to the big, sexy man.
"So, Jules," he started, and I gasped when his big hand grabbed the side of my body that was hidden from the room full of people. "What's underneath your sheet?" His voice was deep and growling, sounding even lower than normal as his thumb brushed over the outside of my breast before it slid down. It finally came to a stop at my hip, like he was searching for bra and panty lines.
"Nothing on top, and barely anything on the bottom," I said, without breaking eye contact. It was amazing I could form words, much less a full sentence, with the way my body was freaking the fuck out at his sexy question. It was impossible not to notice that Dylan's eyes had darkened from their normal grassy green to a hazy, lustful, army green during our verbal exchange.
"God. Damn," he muttered under his breath. His grip tightened on my hip while his thumb brushed back and forth teasingly along the string of my thong. "That is so. Fucking. Hot."
"What's hot?" Will suddenly appeared beside us and asked. Dylan and I both jumped like we'd been shot.
"Pizza rolls. Burn the shit out of my mouth every single time," I told him quickly, while Dylan's hand eased away from my hip
and he took a step back from me. He not so subtly reached down and pressed his palm to the area of his sheet that covered his groin. Huh. What the hell had gotten into him tonight?
"Yeah, the delicious bastards do that, don't they?" Will agreed with my quickly made up "hot" pizza roll diversion. "Dylan, did you tell Jules how slutty her 'toga' looks, and that she should be ashamed of herself, wearing so little in public?"
"Those were pretty much my exact words," Dylan nodded and lied, refusing to look at me or Will.
"Most of the Tri Sigs are wearing less," I pointed out, and both men did a sweep of the room.
"Hell yes," my brother said approvingly.
"They asked me to rush," I told him.
"Rush where?"
"Rush Tri Sig, dumbass."
"Hell. No. You are not going to … no," my brother said vehemently, shaking his head like he was my keeper, and I gave a shit what he thought.
"So, it's okay for you to try and fuck them, but not for me to be one?"
"You want to be a ditzy, slutty, sorority girl that fucks a bunch of random assholes?" Will asked.
"Pretty much. Well, except for the ditzy part," I told him, and then walked away, leaving him and Dylan with their mouths hanging open. I was so tired of him treating me like I was still a little girl, instead of a grown ass woman. Both of them.
My mind was still confused, replaying what had just happened with Dylan before my brother interrupted yet again. I sighed at his horrible timing while looking for Stephanie in the crowd. Distracted and not looking where I was going, I ran face first into a hard body.
"Oh, God. I'm so sorry," I said into the smooth, bare and broad chest of the victim of my collision.
"Whoa. Don't be. Looking for someone?" the deep voice asked, grabbing my shoulders to help steady me. I took a step back to get a better look at the face attached to the amazing chest.