“Fuck.” Hands gripped her hair. His voice was rough and dirty. “Suck me, baby.”
How was she going to do this? She had no idea, but she wasn't stopping now. Her mouth was full, her throat was full. Ian was all around her, inside her, absolutely everywhere. The room tilted, everything soft and disoriented, his flannel sheets rubbing her aching nipples.
“Yesssss. Just like that, you hot little slut. You know how,” he grated.
She had to pull back when he came. She wanted Ian’s warm cream on her tongue, but she needed to breathe. The first jet landed on her lips. Quickly, she took him back in her mouth, sucking as he spurted and cursed under his breath and fisted her hair.
God, he was coming hard. She breathed with him, feeling his excitement, until his thrusts slowed and his hands relaxed their grip.
“Holy shit,” he whispered
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and coughed. Then she laughed. Jesus, her eyes were actually watering.
Ian helped her back onto the bed and handed her the glass that had been waiting on the desk.
Stretched out next to him, she sipped her cherry Coke. If cocoa in the Jeep had brought back winters with the twins, the sweet fizz on her tongue brought back grass fights and lazy bike rides.
“You okay?” a whisper came in her ear. She took another drink.
“You burn me up.” She'd meant it to come out teasing, but her husky whisper sounded all too serious.
“Water?” Ian looked concerned. She shook her head. He kissed her throat. “Poor baby.”
“Mmmm.” She took another sip of Coke, then handed it back to Ian. He tipped his head to chug the rest. “Don't even think about challenging me to a burping contest.”
“No contest. You’re too much of a lady.”
“You wish.” Drops fizzed on her skin and she gasped in surprise. Ian was shaking the last of the cherry Coke over her breasts and belly. Before she could grab the glass, his tongue followed.
“Now you’re playing dirty.”
Teeth nipped the soft skin of her belly. “You just taste so good. See what happens when we ‘don’t have sex?’”
“Oh well,” she giggled. “We’ll hold off someday. Maybe when we're old.”
Ian's mouth stopped moving.
Jeez, where had that come from? Getting old together? First they had to make it through the summer. She hoped she hadn’t scared him.
His arms tightened around her in a rough squeeze. “I love you.”
“Always,” she whispered.
Downstairs, the front door opened and closed. A familiar deep voice came from the living room: Brendan, saying hi to his parents.
“Did you know Diana’s here?” Mrs. O’Brian exclaimed. “She's helping Ian study. They're up in his room. I'm sure she'd love to see you.”
“Might be a good idea to poke your head in,” Mr. O’Brian added. “Make sure Diana isn't buried in a pile of fake spiders. It's been a little too quiet.”
“Nah.” Brendan chuckled. “Di's keeping Ian in line. Count on it.”
“You're not going say to hi?” Mrs. O'Brian sounded surprised.
“’Course I am.” Footsteps sounded up the stairs. There was a light tap on the door.
“Don't come in,” Ian mumbled. “Massive amounts of studying going on.”
“I figured. “
“Hi, Brendan,” Diana called.
“Hey, Di. Is Ian being good for you?”
“As good as he’ll ever be. Which is to say, very, very, good.” Ian sighed and rested his head against her shoulder.
In the silence that followed, Diana wanted Brendan to come in. What for, she wasn’t sure. She and Ian had gotten about as private and intimate as two people could get, and Brendan had his own life.
“I’ll leave you to it.”
Footsteps sounded down the hall and ended with the soft click of Brendan’s door.
Chapter Seven
Back when they were kids, storming the neighborhood and pulling stunts, the twins had made their “agreements.” Diana knew the good twin-bad twin agreement was the biggest, but it was one of many. Someday, she might learn about them all. Probably most were forgettable, like who got the bigger cookie in kindergarten, who got the shower first in high school.
Now, she and Ian had their own agreement: taking turns planning dates. The destination was always a secret. No matter how awkward the other person felt, they had to give it a fair try. If and only if they couldn’t handle it, they’d speak up.
Over the next few weeks, through one of the hottest Junes on record, they trusted each other to provide a surprise. Once Diana made it clear she was open to Ian pulling her out of her comfort zone, again and again, he began to relax and let her do the same for him.
Taking turns with dates gave her a little thrill. She never knew how Ian would react to the places she took him, or what he’d do to surprise her.
He taught her to shoot pool; she took him to the independent movie theatre downtown. He took her hiking up to the lookout point. She took him to a sidewalk cafe to sip wine, purchased with the fake ID she’d wheedled him into helping her get.
In between, she met him at the gym, put in her time at the lab, scribbled poems in her new journal, and tried to make time for her friends so she wouldn’t be tempted to stay in a bubble that just held her and Ian.
So her excuses to her parents wouldn’t be total lies.
Late nights found them in the Jeep or her backyard, skin sweaty and slick, making noise in the car or silently cresting on the grass.
Mostly, it worked out fine. Better than fine. Outstanding, in fact. But she never saw Brendan except in the morning before work, and he and Ian didn’t seem to be spending much time together. As caught up as she was in Ian, it bothered her.
One morning, heavy and sticky with clusters of clouds overhead, Brendan gave her the usual big-brotherly hug in his driveway.
This time, she leaned into the hug, resting her head against his chest. Her arms didn’t want to leave his back. He gave her an extra squeeze.
When they both let go, she asked, “How are you?”
“I’m good.”
“Really, how are you?”
“I’m still good, cutie.” He flashed his dimples.
“What have you been up to?” she prodded. “How’s work? How’s your summer going?”
“Work’s going well. The summer’s great. Everything’s fine, Di.”
“The three of us should hang out,” she blurted. “You, me, and Ian. Like we used to.”
Brendan raised an eyebrow. He rested a hand on her shoulder. “And do what?”
“Anything. Go see a movie. Get something to eat. Play some pool. Did you know I have hidden pool talents? I can actually hit the ball with the cue.” She stretched up to whisper in his ear. “I have a fake ID now. My idea. Ian helped me get it.”
Brendan’s mischievous grin told her everything would be fine. The three of them might get into a scrape, but they’d handle it together instead of Ian taking the blame and Brendan shouldering the cleanup. The twins would have each others’ backs, but better — their bond stronger, not weaker, because of her.
God, she wanted that. She wanted it so badly, she could taste it.
“Ian’s taking care of you.” Brendan’s voice burst her bubble. “I’m glad.”
“I want to play pool with you, Brendan. I bet you’re really good.” She leaned on the handlebars of her bike and looked up at him, trying to be persuasive.
“When you look at me like that—” He chuckled and touched her waist. “Maybe someday, cutie.”
“But I want to see you, and I want you guys to see each other.”
Now she was feeling really young, practically pleading. Pleeeeease, Brendan? Say yes. The cutie wasn’t helping matters.
Hazel eyes moved over her face, the basketball hoop nailed above the garage, the Jeep parked in the driveway, and the patch of green lawn leading to the landscaped backyard.
“What are you doing July fourth?” he asked.
“I don’t have plans yet.”
“Mom and Dad have their annual barbecue.”
Diana wondered where this was going. “I know. The barbecue I’ve avoided since the shitty year away.”
“You mean, when you moved away in middle school?” Dark lashes blinked at her. “That was a shitty year?”
Right. She hadn’t told Brendan anything about that year — only Ian. All Brendan knew was that she’d had some bad experiences. And that she didn’t trust guys as a result.
“It was rough. That’s why I came back so shy and scared. People were mean at my new school, and they picked on me because I, you know…blossomed early.”
The words came out so easily, they shocked her. She’d built brick walls around that year, but telling Ian had loosened all the mortar.
“I’m sorry, Di,” Brendan said gently.
“Thanks. You’re the second person I’ve told. It’s a lot better now. You’re part of the reason why.”
He kissed her cheek. It was a light kiss, but his hand on the back of her head, the whiff of cologne, and the brush of his lips on her skin made goosebumps rise.
“Glad I can be the reason something’s better.”
“Of course you are,” Diana protested. “So many things are better because of you.”
Brendan shrugged.
Did he really think they weren't? Of course, she’d been upset with him not so long ago. She'd resented the blame Ian had taken for Brendan, the talking Brendan had done for Ian.
Me and Brendan, we’re done with agreements.
“You were talking about July fourth,” she said quickly.
“Come over.” He smiled at her. “The three of us can hang out, like we used to.”
At the O’Brians’ annual barbecue. She’d gone every year as a kid. She’d scarfed down too many hot dogs, Brendan had taught her to play ping-pong, and Ian had reliably stolen her dessert, year after year. And once her family moved away, then moved back, she’d stubbornly buried herself in her bedroom with a pile of books while grill smoke curled above the O’Brians’ backyard and her parents pleaded with her to come say hello, just hello, to the twins and their parents.
“Hasn’t it been forever since you and Ian went to your own family’s barbecue?” she asked. “Even when I didn’t go, my parents gave me the rundown.”
Brendan patted her shoulder.
“Yeah, me and Ian usually do our own thing on the Fourth, together. But this year, he’s going to want to be with you. And let me guess, you’re not going to tell your parents and go off alone with him all day. So the three of us can hang out, just like we used to. Swim in the pool, have a low-key good time. Then you guys can watch the fireworks in the evening, or—” Diana raised an eyebrow at him, and he laughed, holding up his hands. “—or whatever you want.”
Low-key. She and Brendan obviously had different ideas of the concept. The O’Brians’ barbecues tended to be crowded and noisy. Sure, they weren’t as intimidating as a pool party with thirty drunk college students, but the backyard would be packed with everyone in the neighborhood.
Maybe that’s what Brendan wanted — a busy get-together, during the daytime, with lots of people around to take the pressure off.
But what pressure was there? Why should there be pressure at all?
“Okay. Just like we used to. You’ll help me with my Ping-Pong game, and I’ll give Ian hell when he tries to steal my dessert. You’ll tell him we're doing this?”
“Why don’t you.” Brendan’s dimples showed, but there was a shadow in his eyes. It bothered her.
“Of course I will.”
“Have a great day, cutie. Be good.” He tousled her hair and walked to the Jeep.
Diana waited, her hands resting on the handlebars, until Brendan settled in and closed the door. Then she sped off, pedaling fast, to make up for lost time.
*
The storm moved in that evening. Clouds had darkened the sky all day, but the first crack of thunder didn’t come until after the sun set.
Diana was lying with Ian in the Jeep at the lookout point, trading soft conversation as her sweaty skin rested on his. His arm was slung around her waist. She was teasing him about his outie belly button, while admitting she’d always had a thing for it, when lightning split the sky.
A boom followed, then pelting rain.
Ian kissed her temple. “Looks like no one’s camping out in your backyard tonight.” A few drops of rain blew through the cracked-open windows.
“I guess not.” Disappointed, she stretched, enjoying the slide of skin on skin, then bolted upright. “Oh, shit. My record player. It’s out in the backyard.”
“Call your parents.” Ian reached lazily for her purse. “Ask them to bring it in.”
Dialing her home number post-sex with Ian, naked in his arms, was beyond awkward. But she really was worried about her record player.
“Diana, where are you?” her mother demanded when she picked up.
“Why do you ask?” she parried.
“Honey, you know Dad and I trust you, but that’s not the answer I want to hear.”
A hand played over the full curve of her breast, tickling underneath, and she slapped it away.
“I’m with Marissa, Mom. Everything’s fine. Can you bring in my record player before it gets ruined? It’s in the backyard. My sleeping bag, too.”
“Stuart!” her mom called. “Can you bring in Diana’s record player? No, I don’t know why she insists on having it outside either. Or why she sleeps outside when she has a perfectly good bed. Don’t forget her sleeping bag. Teenagers.” Her voice came back on the line. “Make sure you get a ride home, honey. Walking or biking in this storm, or even taking the bus, is not a good idea.”
“Thanks,” Diana said drily. Ian was running his fingers over her stomach, just shy of tickling. She sucked in her breath. “You’re going to keep up these reminders when I go to Yale, right? I might not survive the first week.”
“You’re our only daughter,” her mother sighed. “We worry. It’s different with boys.”
“Right. When boys bike in a storm, they don’t get wet.”
“Please just be careful.”
“I will, Mom.”
“Dad and I are going to bed. Don’t stay out too late.”
“I won’t, Mom.”
She hung up. Ian smirked at her.
“Watch out, little girl.” He pinched her nipple. “Can’t get wet or you’ll get in trouble. I better take you home.”
“You’re disgusting,” she wheezed through her laughter. She dried off with Ian’s towel, then sorted through the pile of clothes on the floor of the Jeep to find her dress and underwear. “When did your parents stop worrying about you and Brendan?”
“Brendan?” Ian shrugged, pulling on his boxers. “When he was five. Me, never.”
“But they don’t keep tabs on you.”
“Yeah, they gave up awhile ago. I wore them out.” He flashed a jaunty grin. “It’ll all change when you get to college. Your parents will ask for updates, but you’ll be able to do whatever you want.”
Whatever you want. Brendan had said the same thing, back when they were all in high school. She’d wanted a lot then, and she hadn’t known if she would get any of it.
Now she had so much. But college seemed far-off and unknowable, and she didn’t know what she’d want when she got there.
She caught Ian’s shoulder and kissed him before he got in the driver’s seat. She didn’t want to think about being apart from him.
By the time Ian dropped her off, the rain was falling in sheets. Lightning forked the sky in bright bursts, and thunder came close on its heels. Diana dashed into her house and up the stairs.
It felt strange to be getting ready for bed in her room, after sleeping outside for the past month. She left the window open for some fresh air, though rain threatened to spatter her desk and the huge tree outside tossed in the wind. The
screen was back on her window. Once she’d dragged the sleeping bag out to her backyard, there wasn't any reason for a twin to climb into her bedroom in the dark of night.
Stripping off her damp clothes, she wriggled into a short white slip that did double duty as a nightgown. Then she rustled through her underwear drawer for a light blue thong. She paused, the scraps of lace dangling from her hand.
Ian had fingered her in the Jeep before plunging in, giving her the kind of quick, explosive orgasm that left her wanting more. Usually, when he fucked her after making her come like that, his deep strokes, her own thrusts, and their hard kisses were enough to satisfy her.
But her pussy ached now, needing attention. The storm was making her restless.
She tucked the thong back in her drawer, turned out the lights, and sprawled on the bed. One hand went between her legs to cup her mound; the other slipped into her nightgown to pinch her nipple.
God, her pussy was so wet and hot, so eager for touch, her nipple so puckered and sensitive. Her clit needed to be circled while she thought about Ian taking her. She felt his hard weight on top of her, the first delicious shock of his cock opening her up.
But she couldn’t get off. No matter how much she stroked and teased her clit, caressed her breasts, slid her fingers inside her own tightness, no matter how much the cracks of thunder reverberated through her body, she hovered on the edge.
Ian was with her, breathing hard, whispering dirty words, heavy and hot…then he’d disappear. They were together in the summertime, blissful, seeing each other every day…then she was catapulted forward two months to college, away from him.
And dammit, Brendan was flickering in and out of her vision, lying next to her as she rubbed her clit, resting an encouraging hand on her thigh. She just wanted a word of reassurance from him, a soft whisper telling her everything was okay so she could come now. But every time she asked for it, he vanished.
The Girl in Between Page 10