by LL Meyer
He looks dismayed now. “You didn’t give it to her, did you?”
“How could I? I don’t have it. A fact that I keep telling her, but she doesn’t seem to believe me.”
“What do you mean you don’t have it?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Nobody gave it to me.”
“Your boyfriend is an idiot, you know that?” he says, sitting up and reaching for his phone. Seconds later my phone is ringing. “Add it to your contacts.”
I glare a bit. “You’re as bossy as he is.” I go to work on my phone. When I’m done, I smile weakly. “Thanks.”
The annoyed expression on his face softens. “You’re welcome, beautiful.”
I inhale sharply before I turn to flee. Okay, no more alone time with Jason – ever.
The way he looks at me is no longer questionable, it’s obvious. And I’m not doing anything to put a stop to it. My heart sinks. If I were him, I would read my actions as an invitation. An image of Jason kissing me roughly up against a wall floods my mind, sending extremely pleasant signals to my groin before I can stop them. No! I switch out Jason for Dane and relax a bit. I just have too much spare time on my hands, I tell myself. Without having school and work to concentrate on 24/7, my imagination is running wild.
I’ll find something to read and I’ll be fine. Out by the pool, I go through the books on Jason’s Kindle, but I can’t concentrate. The only thing my mind seems to be able to focus on is a fantasy of Dane doing me in the backyard somewhere, though I can’t decide between on my back in the grass or bent over the table on the covered porch. And the longer I sit, the more confused my brain is as to who’s doing the fucking, Dane or Jason.
Leaping up at the realization, I decide to go in search of Dane. Maybe he’ll let me seduce him in the middle of a workday, so I can erase his brother’s presence in my head. But when I peek in the office, I can see they’re all busy. Dane seems to be arguing with someone on the phone about a missing shipment of tiles.
“What are you doing, Pretty Girl?” resonates right beside my ear.
I jump about a foot in the air. “Jason,” I hiss as I turn. “You scared me half to death.”
I want to smack the smug smirk right off his face, but settle for whacking his arm.
“Hey,” he cries. “That’s twice in one day.”
“And you deserved them both,” I gripe, trying in vain to block out the fact that there’s a wall right beside us that would work for my earlier imaginings.
“Very funny.” He rubs his arm like I’ve hurt him and I roll my eyes. “So, I gotta go out,” he says. “You want to come with me? I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
I shake my head much too vigorously, eliciting a frown from him.
“You all right?” he asks.
My head’s side-to-side motion changes to up and down and the frown becomes bemusement.
“Yo, Dane!” he yells, making me jump again.
“Sshhh! He’s on the phone,” I scold.
But Dane appears a few seconds later. His eyebrows draw together when he sees us practically huddled together; my pulse accelerates guiltily.
“Your girlfriend is way too tense,” Jason announces. “She needs some of that Big-O therapy.”
“What?” I sputter, completely stunned, not to mention humiliated.
Dane laughs heartily, probably because I’m sure I’m as red as a beet. “Is this true, Lil?”
“No!” I whack Jason again, this time with more feeling.
He cowers away from me. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just trying to help you out.”
I make to hit him again, but Dane grabs my wrist, a huge grin on his face. I try to yank my arm away, but he doesn’t let go.
“You headed out?” Dane asks Jason like I’m not there.
“Yeah, to meet the plumber.”
“At the Front Street job?”
“Yeah, I’ll see you later.”
“Okay.”
“Bye, Pretty Girl,” Jason taunts. “Have fun.”
Anger flashes, and I try to yank my arm free again as Jason goes around us and out the door.
When we’re alone, I turn my glare on Dane. “Are you going to let me go?”
He narrows his eyes at me before he leans down to my level. His words are low and threatening when he speaks, turning me inside out with desire. “I want you naked and on my bed. I’ll be there in five minutes.”
When I don’t answer, he raises a brow, making me fidget.
“Kay,” I answer softly, biting my lip.
His grip is loosening on my arm when suddenly it tightens again. “Scratch that.” His eyes flicker from the office to the ceiling where his bedroom is. “I want you naked on Jason’s bed in five minutes.”
“Uh, no,” I say. The eyebrow climbs again, but I don’t care. “What if he comes back?”
“Then he’ll get a free show. Just like before, Lil. Face down, legs wide.” He whispers the last part, the sound practically vibrating against my skin. I shiver, and for a moment, I forget why I was objecting.
He lets my arm go, and then I remember. I open my mouth to protest further, but he stops me. “Now,” he says sternly.
Disappearing back into the office, he leaves me with my wobbly legs and racing heart. Am I really going to do this? Being naked on Jason’s bed sounds like a terrible idea, but the alternative is . . . unknown. What would Dane do if I defied him? Probably nothing, but I decide that being uncomfortable on Jason’s bed doesn’t hold a candle to the possibility of disappointing Dane.
Crap! How much time have I wasted? I rush up the stairs and into Jason’s room, which is just as messy as it was half an hour ago. Quickly pulling off my T-shirt, shorts, and underwear, I toss them into a messy pile and then tug Jason’s duvet to the floor. I crawl up and settle myself onto his sheets and promptly gasp. They’re cool and satiny, or maybe it’s silky. They feel amazing against my bare skin. Instead of keeping my arms tucked under me to protect my breasts, I leave them out at my sides so I can soak up the feeling of the sheets.
I realize that I can smell Jason everywhere. I groan. His smell is different from Dane’s, but not at all unpleasant. After a few more moments, I remember I’m supposed to have my legs spread. The movement makes me shiver. These sheets are awesome. We need some of these on our bed.
I have no idea how long Dane leaves me there, but soon I’m squirming against the sheets, my nipples hard against the fabric and my fingers itching to take the edge off my pulsing clit. He’s never said I can’t touch myself. Would he know? Would he care? This internal debate is still raging when I’m interrupted by the metallic sound of his zipper.
The sharp intake of my breath echoes in the room, and I hear the low hum of his chuckle.
“Eyes closed?” he purrs.
“Eyes closed,” I whisper, my body buzzing with anticipation.
My ears are straining for something to tell me what to expect, but the room goes silent after the sound of him taking off his jeans disappears.
Finally the bed bows between my legs and then his elbows come down, one on either side of my body. His erection brushes my backside as he leans forward to whisper in my ear. “I like that you do as you’re told, Pretty Girl.”
His words send a thrill through my body. He moves my hair to the side and places an open mouth kiss on the back of my neck.
“Do you think you’re wet enough for me now?” he asks innocently.
I barely hold back a groan. “Yes.”
“Do I need to check?”
“No. I like the sheets,” I give by way of explanation.
He laughs. “Do you?”
I nod my head against the bed.
When he speaks again, the humor is gone. “Stretch your arms out toward the sides of the bed. Palms down.”
I obey and then he’s pulling away from me. “Tilt your hips up a bit.” I’m not sure what he means, but his hands are there to guide me.
Then he’s rubbing his cock at my ent
rance and slowly sinking into me. The euphoric feel of skin on skin is incredible as he then lowers his weight down onto my back. He’s so heavy for a moment as his arms slide out over mine and then grip my hands, pulling them in to me so that now some of his weight is supported on his elbows, but my arms are effectively trapped within his grasp. God, the tension in my arched back, trapped between his arms and hips, feels amazing.
He kisses my shoulder before he says, “If I get too heavy, you tell me, okay?”
All I can come up with is a mumbled mmhmm. He still hasn’t moved in me, but when I try to encourage him, I find I can’t move.
“We’re going to do this nice and slow.”
Stop talking and get on with it, I want to snap, but I have just enough sense to hold my tongue. I’m rewarded with movement. He pulls out and then oh so slowly pushes back in.
I groan. It’s so, so good. His weight holding me down, the angle of penetration, his cock grazing the front of my inner wall. And his voice so close in my ear. “You feel so good.” He continues his slow, torturous pace. He’s everywhere, on me, in me, over me, pinning me to the bed. In and out, in and out. I want to come so bad, but the angle of my hips doesn’t allow for any contact to my clit at all. Not the bed, not his cock, and my hands are being held down.
On and on, his cock stretches me, fills me, leaves me, stretches me, fills me, leaves me. My breathing gets erratic and I can’t stop moans and gasps from falling out of my mouth. I imagine his tongue on my clit, a vibrator, his fingers, my fingers, God anything that will set off this explosion that’s waiting inside of me. I need to move, but the tension in my back from his weight and the angle doesn’t let me.
“Please, Dane,” I beg breathlessly. “I can’t come like this.”
He hums in approval. “I know.”
I whimper.
“Be patient,” he murmurs.
“No.” I squeeze him from the inside on the next stroke.
He stalls in me. “Are you sabotaging me, woman?”
I laugh incredulously. “I wanna come.”
He starts moving again. “You will. I promise. Just let me feel you a little longer.”
Oh. I guess for him I can wait.
After an eternity, he pulls himself all the way out of me. I cringe as my back relaxes and he pulls his weight off of me. Briefly I turn on to my side to stretch out my sore muscles.
“You okay?” he murmurs.
I roll onto my back to look up at him. His eyes are bright and beautiful in the daylight. He’s already grabbing my ankles to move my legs. His question elicits a small tug at the corner of my lips. “I will be.”
“Come together?” he asks as he starts sliding into me, missionary style.
I groan as he rocks himself deep, grinding against my clit. Five strokes and a scream later, my orgasm is detonating around me, my world reduced to waves of rolling pleasure.
When my senses return, I’m lying on top of him, breathing hard. His chest vibrates under me, and it takes me a second to realize that he’s laughing.
I make a noise of displeasure, sure he’s laughing at me.
“It’s a good thing we didn’t do it in my room. They’d have thought I was trying to kill you.”
Some of the pleasure ebbs from my body.
“I swear, you’re getting louder every time.”
The pleasure is given a shove by shame.
“I mean –”
“I get it!” I interrupt, my voice harsh. “I’ll tone it down.” Sometimes I wish he didn’t have to say everything that came into his head.
“Hey.” He pulls back and tries to turn my head so I’ll look at him. But I refuse. “I was just teasing, Lil.” Now he sounds remorseful, and I feel bad for overreacting.
“Sorry,” I mumble into his shoulder. Why I’m apologizing is beyond me; I guess I just love him so much. Over the last few days, the mounting fear that without him I’d have exactly nothing has been plaguing me a bit. It’s a big part of the reason I accepted the cards and the counseling with minimal fuss; I need him to be happy with me. I can’t lose him.
The prick of tears makes me angry. I am not pathetic, I refuse to be. “It’s your fault anyway,” I accuse huffily.
Now, he’s moving us so I’ll have to look at him. Scrambling to make my expression neutral, I forget about my tears.
When he sees my face, his eyes widen. “Oh, Lil, I’m sorry.”
I reach out to touch his face. “Don’t be. I didn’t know, but now I do. I’ll tone it down.”
His expression becomes angry. What now?!
“That is not what I meant. I was just joking around. I love that you scream.” His tone softens. “It’s good for my ego.”
He finds this funny, and his lips tug into a grin before he leans forward to kiss me. And I just go with it. Though I would never admit it to him, I feel so lost, like a small child at the mall who looks up and her mother is nowhere in sight. My whole life is upside down. The constant emotions, his mercurial moods, Jason, school finishing, not working this week, those horrible piercing eyes every time I close my own. There’s just so much that’s new and uncertain . . . and unsettling. But what else is there to do, except be thankful to both of them for taking care of me?
The next morning Jenna picks me up at 9:45 so we can be at the mall by ten when it opens. Obviously, this girl takes shopping very seriously.
“Hey!” she says with a big smile as I get into the car. The sunroof of her BMW is open, and with her sunglasses on, she looks pretty glamorous – and happy. My immediate impression is that this girl has led a charmed life, but then I feel bad. What gives me the right to be so judgmental?
“Hi!” I give her as much enthusiasm in return. All last night Dane had been second-guessing this unescorted trip, but Jason and I had convinced him that I’d be perfectly safe in such a public place. Strangely, the only thing I’m nervous about is what I’m going to talk about with their sister. My social skills are rusty, to say the least. But I shouldn’t have worried because she barely gives me the chance to say anything.
As we get closer to the mall, she asks, “So what are we shopping for?”
I grip my hands together as she changes lanes recklessly to go around a car that’s in her way. “Dane says I need everything.”
Her eyes bug out. “Everything? And what kind of spending limit does everything entail?”
Her reaction tells me that Dane knew exactly what he was doing when he set this up. Bastard, I think with a smile.
I shrug. “He didn’t say. Oh, but he says I should test the card out first to make sure it works. Should we get some coffee? Dane’s treat . . . and I guess Jason’s, too.”
“Too bad it’s not Jason’s permission we need to go shopping,” she laughs. “We could go every week.”
When she sees what I’m pretty sure is a frown on my face, she keeps talking.
“Daddy says that when it comes to money, I’m not allowed to ask Jason for anything. He would just give me a credit card and say go for it. But Daddy and Dane are all about limits.”
I smile now, understanding. “Yeah, I can see that. Jason is much more laid back than Dane.”
Her laughter fills the car as we pull into a prime spot near the doors so quickly that my hands go out to the dash in case we crash. “You noticed that, huh?”
While we’re waiting in line to order our coffee, I pull out my wallet and smile to myself at the $70 in cash that’s sitting in it. There are even two dimes in my change purse; Dane is nothing if not exact. Before I left this morning, he’d paid me the money he owed me from the day I called in sick: $70.20.
“Save it in case you ever need cash,” he informs me.
Some kind of emotion swirls in my stomach; I think it’s offense. I don’t like being reminded that I agreed to that little deal with him. What was I thinking?
With a completely straight face, I tell him, “Since payday was last week, I think you’ll have to cough up some interest, Mr. Wilson.”
As I take the money from him and shove it in my wallet, he arches an eyebrow in that sexy way of his. “A week’s interest on $70.20, Miss Friesen?”
He clearly finds the idea ludicrous, and I can’t stop the corner of my mouth from tugging into the barest of grins before I get a hold of myself.
“I think that’s fair.”
He digs into his jeans pocket, coming back out with some coins, and proceeds to hand me a penny. “You owe me at least seven-eighths of that back.”
I take the penny and put it in my new purple high-top. “I’ll see what kind of change I can get at the mall.”
“You got your own card?!” Jenna’s shrieky voice interrupts my daydreaming.
I look down at the card I’ve got in my hand. “Yeah,” I say dejectedly.
“But that’s a debit card.”
“Oh yeah.” I put it back and pull out the other one. “I’m supposed to use this one.”
She squeaks at the sight, but doesn’t say anything more because it’s our turn to order. While we’re waiting for our drinks, she starts rattling on about Dane and me. “So it’s serious between you two, huh? You know my parents like to joke that Dane is gay, but it’s all garbage. When Dane and Jason were in high school, they had girls in their room after school all the time. I never said anything to my parents, but they were obviously not just watching TV like they told me.”
We sit at one of the tables in the corner and she continues. “And then, there was this huge deal when they were caught in Joanne MacNeil’s bedroom – and I do mean they,” she adds for emphasis.
Oh really?
“My poor mom was mortified. There was a parents’ meeting and everything. It was a good thing neither of them were eighteen yet, because the dad wanted to press charges. He couldn’t believe that his daughter had agreed.
“So anyway, Jason’s had a girlfriend before, but . . .”
She must spy the interest on my face, because she spills some details. “Melissa. She was a tiny little thing. I always felt like a giant beside her, and I was still in high school. I got the impression that he really liked her, but she disappeared after a few months. But Dane?” She reaches across the table and grabs my hand. “I don’t know what you did, but you’ve caught yourself a mythical fish.”