Chapter 11
Aidan
“Hey, Dad.”
“Hi, Aidan.” My dad’s where I usually find him at night, in his chair, on his laptop. “Did you eat?”
“Yeah, I’m good. I had pizza with the guys.”
“Great.” He turns back to his work and I head to my room. It’s been a typically long day. Work, classes, practice with the band — Josh and Nick were both late today — and now studying.
Thanks to my session with Amber this morning, it’s also been a frustrating day. She’s been all I could think about.
In the afternoon, as I rushed across campus, a head of long, golden-brown hair caught my eye and I turned to stare, but then I realized it wasn’t her. Why has she taken over my thoughts so completely? That never happens. Maybe it’s because I haven’t slept with her yet.
I get settled at my desk, unpack my stuff and am about to open my laptop, but instead I toy restlessly with my phone. Should I? Yeah, why not.
I find her name and only hesitate for a second before composing a message.
Hey, it’s Aidan. What are you doing?
It doesn’t take long for her reply.
Studying. How about you?
Same. Or I will be, in a few minutes.
Well, what are you doing right now?
I picture the blush that’s about to rise under her pale, freckled cheeks, and wish I was with her right now to see it.
Thinking about us in that study room. And getting hard.
Chapter 12
Amber
I grip my phone so tightly that my hand cramps. Player, player, player! My head is trying to scream its warning, but the rest of me is not listening.
If it were any other guy telling me about the state of his cock via text message, I’d be labeling him a creeper and blocking him, but, dammit, Aidan flips my switch like I’m a fucking chandelier.
How am I supposed to reply? I can’t just go along with everything he does, but I’m pressing my thighs together, encouraging the tingling, throbbing sensation that started as soon as his text showed up.
Finally, I reply. Yeah? Oh, that was really brilliant, Amber. Way to charm him.
He answers,Yeah. Are you getting hot?
My mind says, Fuck, fuck, fuck. See what you’ve gotten yourself into? You are out of your league and over your head.
I answer, No, not me. I’m a good girl. I add an emoji with an innocent, toothy grin.
Aidan replies, I can’t stop thinking about you.
I can’t stop thinking about him either, but there’s no way I’m going to say that. I’d just be getting myself in deeper.
He’s already distracted me all day today, and I need to stay focused. I need to study, and I need to be able to focus on chemistry when I’m with him, instead of getting drawn in by his dark eyes. Hell, I can’t even see him right now and he seems to be working some kind of magic on me.
I say: We’ll see each other soon.
It’s almost a full minute before he replies.
Will you think about me tonight and touch yourself?
Oh god. His typed words send a little shock right through me, straight to my clit. I squirm on the bed, glad Megan is out for the evening. Then I decide to just throw my reservations out the window.
Okay.
Chapter 13
Aidan
I was already hard as a rock. Amber’s reply just about kills me.
I meant to tease her with my dirty messages, but it’s me being tormented. With the thought of her touching herself, I have to push back in my chair and adjust my cock before I can answer her.
I’m alone in my room and I wish you were here.
Her response is nearly instant.
I wish I was too.
Before I can second-guess the impulse, I dial her number. She answers right away. “Hey.” Her voice sounds breathy, a little nervous, and I stifle a groan, rubbing my hand over the bulge in my jeans.
“I’m picturing you lying on my bed,” I say, and the catch in her breath shoots straight to my already-painful cock. “You’re curled on your side, looking shy, watching me through your lashes, with your hair spread out across my pillow.”
She doesn’t say anything, but she’s right there with me — her breath is fast and shallow in my ear. “I unzip my pants,” I say, matching my actions to my words, “because I’ve got a hard-on the size of the Empire State Building from looking at you.”
I push off my jeans, releasing my straining erection. In my mind, her eyes widen at the sight. “I move closer to the bed,” I say, “and you roll onto your back. You’re watching me. When you spread your legs, I see the damp spot on your panties.”
“Oh, god,” Amber moans.
“Are you alone right now?” I ask.
“Yes.” Her voice is soft.
“I want you to touch yourself.” I pause, and when she doesn’t respond, I continue. “Reach inside your clothes and touch yourself for me.” I hear the faint sound of a zipper beyond her ragged breath in my ear, and I almost explode.
“Are you doing it?”
“Yes.”
“Are you wet?” I ask.
“Aidan —”
“Find your clit. Rub your finger on your clit. That’s what I’d like to be doing to you right now.”
“Oh god — oh!” At first she sounds hesitant, then as she cries out, I know she’s found her sweet spot. I pull on my cock and hope I can last long enough to talk her through this.
“I wish that was my finger on your clit, circling, rubbing, pressing…” Amber’s breathing grows more shallow. “That’s it, keep rubbing. It feels so good.” I have to let go of my cock or I’ll never make it.
“Dip your finger in your wetness, then come back to your clit. Find the rhythm that feels the best.” I pause, listen to her breathing, hear her excitement growing. “I want you to make yourself come.”
I grab hold of myself again and stroke. Fuck, I might have to write a song about this.
“Imagine it’s me touching you, Amber.” She’s practically panting in my ear. “Come for me, baby,” I tell her. “Come for me.”
Only a few seconds later, I’m rewarded with the sound of her orgasm, and it’s the fucking sexiest thing I’ve ever heard on the other end of a phone.
“Aidan—” she calls out, and I don’t know how I manage not to come too. Frustration, I guess. She sounds hot as hell, and it’s killing me that I’m not with her, that I can’t see the look on her face like I did earlier today.
I stay quiet for a while and savor the sound of her, the little cries, almost like a whimper as she rides out the rest of her climax.
“How was that?” I ask, though I can tell how it was from what I heard.
“Aidan…” Her breathing has mostly gone back to normal, and she sounds tentative, embarrassed maybe?
“Amber, that was amazing. Next time it’ll be my hands on you. I gotta go now. You sleep well.”
“You too,” she says, sounding slightly dazed.
“I’ll see you Wednesday.”
“Right. Wednesday.” There’s a pause and then she says, “Good night.”
There’s no way in hell it’s gonna be a good night without her here.
Chapter 14
Amber
There’s no point in trying to study now. It would be a waste of time to try to concentrate on anything.
I get ready for bed and climb under the covers way early, though I’m not sure I’ll be able to fall asleep either. Did I just have phone sex? Did Aidan really give me two orgasms today, without me even taking my clothes off? It all seems so out of my experience that I can’t believe it happened.
I tentatively run my hand between my legs again. Yes, that definitely happened. I’m still swollen and sensitive. God, I can’t believe how I respond to him. Even just his voice over the phone.
I’ve given myself pleasure before, but my orgasms can be elusive, requiring a lot of work and not usually being very strong. All it too
k were a few words from Aidan, in his oh-so-sexy deep voice, to make me come. I’m blushing again just at the thought of it.
I slip my hand under my panties to my bare skin and dip two fingers into the wetness that remains. What would it be like for Aidan’s fingers to touch me here?
Is he touching himself now, stroking his hard cock while he thinks of me? Maybe he was already doing that while we were on the phone.
Megan’s probably right; I bet Aidan could show me amazing pleasure. I’d like to do the same for him, but even if I decided to make him my first, could I please him? I’m sure he’s used to more experienced girls. What if I let him down? And what if one time together is all he wants? Could I be okay with that?
I adjust my underwear and roll onto my side. My body is relaxed and content but my mind is swirling in confusion.
Chapter 15
Amber
I manage to get my head back in the game the next day, pushing thoughts of Aidan aside so I can focus on my classes and studying, but the hours seem to pass slowly.
I’m impatient to see him again, but I still have no idea how things will go, or even how I want them to go.
We’ll be alone at his house studying tomorrow, an idea that seems far more dangerous now than when we made the plans.
I need to pass chemistry, and I believe that Aidan understands and respects how important that is to me, but that doesn’t mean he won’t call “time out” and make good on his promise from last night. And when have I been able to resist him? He got me off over the phone, for god’s sake. Every time I see him or even hear his voice, I seem to forget all my common-sense, good-girl precautions.
A new message from him pops up at lunch on Tuesday and I shield my phone from the friends I’m sitting with, expecting to see something private and naughty, along the lines of our last conversation, but instead he writes: Hey, what’s up? How’s your day going?
I’m surprised to experience the tiniest twinge of disappointment at this normal message. My hormones were on alert as soon as his name appeared.
But maybe it’s for the best. I don’t think I could handle sexting with Aidan in public. And I do feel a warm glow to know he’s thinking of me and checking in. It’s almost like I’m his girlfriend, and it feels good even though I know it’s only an illusion. He probably keeps in touch with a lot of women, or at least his latest conquests.
I say: I’m good. How’s your day?
Good. Did you sleep well?
I slept very well, and I blush a little at the memory of why.
Yeah. You?
Could’ve been better.
Frustrating … homework? I can’t believe I’m being so brazen.
Very frustrating.
I try not to squirm in front of my friends. I’ll see you tomorrow?
Yeah, he says. So I can help you with your … frustrations.
And there I go — blushing again.
See you then.
*
Wednesday afternoon, I meet Aidan at BFOC. When I arrive, he’s already there, leaning against a pillar in a casual pose that does funny things to my stomach.
It’s still hard for me to merge the two sides of him — sexy rocker and serious academic. I like them both — a lot — though the rocker side unnerves me a little.
Today he’s wearing tight jeans and a black t-shirt, looking a little like both the singer and the student. The shirt stretches tightly across his chest and hangs smoothly over his flat abs.
His hair is disheveled in a way that makes me want to smooth it, then mess it up again.
When he sees me, he smiles and I try to hold back from smiling too much in return. I don’t want to look overeager, though I actually want to run to him.
“Hey, how’re you?” Aidan’s eyes travel over my body as I approach but his expression is friendly, without the wicked gleam I’ve almost come to expect.
“Good,” I say in what I hope is a casual voice. “Been waiting long?”
“Nope. Want a coffee before we head over? We only have the basics at my house.”
“Sure.”
We head inside and order espresso drinks at the counter. Aidan smoothly insists on paying, though I protest, “It should be my treat. You’re the one helping me.”
But he’s not having it. “It’s my pleasure,” he says, sounding all suave. I have the private thought that last time we met, it was my pleasure.
Is Aidan trying to hint that he should be the one receiving pleasure today? He’s usually not that subtle, though, and his tone and expression seem innocent and friendly.
We take the drinks to go and head across campus toward his house. I can’t help but notice that nearly every girl we pass turns her head to look at Aidan, some of them only briefly, others not so much.
I feel a little glow of happiness that I’m the one with him, and again enjoy the fantasy of what it would be like to be his girlfriend, but I quickly shake the thought from my head.
“I didn’t have a chance to ask you the other day. Is chemistry your major?”
“No, industrial design. I like to build things. I like to work with my hands.”
I look for Aidan’s wolfish expression — I already have some idea of just how well he works with his hands — but again see no sign of it. It throws me off balance, the way he seems to switch the player vibe off at will. Maybe this will purely be a study session. That’s what I wanted, right?
“So what are your career plans? What about Throwback?”
“Yeah, I don’t know. Some of the other guys have big dreams for it, but I’m not sure I want that. It’s not a stable plan for the future.”
Stable? He sounds like me all of a sudden. “You’re probably right. But you guys are really good. You seem to love it.”
“It’s fun on stage, but it’s some of the offstage stuff that I’m not crazy about. “
I wonder what he’s referring to — troubles with other band members, practices, surely not the groupies? — but before I can ask, he continues.
“I plan to have my own business. Then I can be in charge. What about you? Biochemist? Chemical engineer? Nuclear scientist?”
“You must be extremely confident in your tutoring abilities.”
Aidan gives me a full smile that warms me from head to toe. “Sure, I think I can have you inventing new compounds in a week or two.”
We keep walking, the grass soft under our feet. “So what else are you taking besides chemistry?”
“I’m a double major — finance and marketing,” I explain, “so I’ve got intro to accounting, macroeconomics, oral communications, and sociology. I want to get my general studies out of the way as fast as I can.”
“I did the same,” Aidan says. “Some of those GE classes were really good, but I was ready to get on to what I came for.”
It’s a mild day, the sunlight just enough to make me comfortably warm, with a slight breeze to take the edge off. “I’m a little surprised you’re not a music major,” I say.
Aidan lifts one shoulder in a half-shrug. “Like I said, I love singing, writing songs, jamming with the guys … but being in a band is more than that. You spend a lot of time dealing with other people’s expectations.”
I can’t help but think of groupies again, but Aidan’s not sounding at all like a player today. Have I sold him short with the sexy manwhore label? Scratch that; the sexy part definitely applies. But he does seem to have a serious side I hadn’t given him credit for.
We’re most of the way across campus now, and he’s been getting nonstop attention from every girl we pass. Maybe a lot of them recognize him from Throwback, but I have no doubt that he draws attention for his looks alone. More than a few of them send me less-than-friendly glances, too.
Before we’re off campus, a very bouncy blonde suddenly blocks Aidan’s path. “Hey, Aidan,” she trills, looking at him like he’s a hot fudge sundae and she’s about to dig in.
“Hey,” he says. “How are you?”
“I’m great!
I saw your show last week. You were so good.” She sticks out her sizeable chest and plays with her hair while pretending she can’t even see me.
“That’s great. Thanks,” Aidan says, giving her a friendly smile.
“I’ll be at your show this weekend. Maybe I’ll see you after?”
“Sounds good. Maybe I’ll see you there.” Aidan gives her a wave and we start walking again.
I can’t help but wonder if he’s been with her. Maybe he picked her up at one of his shows like he did me.
He doesn’t mention the girl or say anything about all the attention he receives. He’s probably so used it that he doesn’t even consider the impact it might have on me.
Only one block later, before I can even get the blonde girl out of my head, a beautiful dark-haired girl, who looks a million times cooler than I have ever felt in my life, approaches us from the opposite direction. She slows her pace as she gets closer and focuses intently on Aidan, pulling her attention away only briefly to give me an assessing look.
I’m in jeans and a t-shirt, while she looks like she stepped out of a fashion magazine with just the right clothes and perfectly styled hair. I feel like I literally shrink in her presence.
When we reach her, she greets Aidan with a hug before shooting another glance in my direction. “Who’s this?” she asks him.
“This is Amber. Amber, Sasha.” Aidan’s tone is friendly and neutral, and gives me no clue about who Sasha is to him.
Sasha’s hand has found its way to Aidan’s arm. She gives me the briefest of nods before turning all of her attention on him. “Do you know when we’re supposed to get our cap-and-gown shipments in? My parents want me to have a senior portrait taken.”
“I’m sure they’ll be here the day after we’re supposed to walk,” Aidan says.
She laughs and play-punches him in the arm. “No, really.”
“I think they said next week. Or maybe it was later this week. Hang on.” Aidan pulls out his phone, both of them acting like I’m not even there, and looks it up. “Yeah, they’ll be here by Friday.”
Beast Brothers 2: An MFM Twin Ménage Romance Page 16