Twisted Summer

by Lucy V. Morgan

  I was sighing my pleasure now, rubbing Gabe’s head and pushing myself up to meet his tongue. His fingers teased and I mewed in frustration.

  “So tell me.” He mumbled into my skin and the hum of it was delectable. “What have you had…inside?”

  “Ah…her finger…her tongue…”

  “No toys?”

  “I…no…”

  “And now…” He eased his finger in and my muscles sucked him down. “Now my finger, too. Oh…you’re tight.” He kissed my clit, lathing the hood with his tongue-tip. “I changed my mind. I like the clichés. This is going to be beyond delicious.”

  The way he slid that thick finger in and out of me, twisting up to graze my swollen spot…God. “Is…is this what it will feel like?”

  He noticed the way I stiffened. “Don’t worry, okay? We’re good.” Another kiss, this one on the very inside of my goosepimpled thigh. “I kinda think you’ll like it.”

  I did like it. The way he talked dirty to me, grunted at the taste of me, how he was more calm and controlled than eager; if I could have puddled about his feet in adoration, I’d be half-seeped into the grass by now. And I cared about nothing else.

  For minutes, something grew deep inside me in jerky snaps, conducted by the rhythm of his tongue. It peaked beneath my clit over and over before he caught on to it and pulled…pulled…

  I had to bite back the words I normally moaned to Esmé at this point: please, baby. Love you, love you –

  Ohmygod.

  It was different. Longer, harder in his mouth. As I calmed, he lingered over the swell of me and licked all the way down to my inner thighs.

  Above, the branches of silver birch swayed like velvety eyelashes, and they span in the mess of oxygen I sucked from the air.

  “Danni?”

  Gabe crept over me, planting soft kisses along my cheeks.

  “Mmm…?” I wrapped my legs around him and stroked the backs of my calves along his buttocks. “Yeah?”

  “You okay?”

  “You could say that.” I cleared my throat. “What’s your professional opinion?”

  He laughed, and I smothered the sound with a kiss. He tasted like me but different. I’d never tasted a girl on a boy before.

  “Do you still want me here?” His cock nudged at my clit, then lower. It felt heavy and round.

  “Go slow.”

  “I will.” He stroked damp hair from my face. “Tell me if it hurts, okay?”

  I never fell out of the ‘born gay’ mold. I grew up thinking I’d have a Prince Charming and a horse and carriage, and I always imagined my first time would be with a boy. If the ones I liked hadn’t fucked around as much as they did, maybe it would have been, but then I met Esmé at hockey club and it was natural—obvious—to fall for her. She was my first love and first lover, even if she did get on my nerves lately. Even if I followed her lead in love rather than fell upon my own waves to surf.

  Right?

  Whether or not there would ever be a man…just stopped being a topic of consideration.

  Ha.

  Gabe pressed kisses along my temple as he entered me. I was surprised at how easy it felt at first. Then suddenly, he was huge and an ache permeated, my muscles trying to force him back out.

  “Relax.” He ducked to brush his lips against mine. “Do you want me to stop?”

  “It hurts,” I said feebly. He was heavy atop me and though the warmth of him was luxurious in rapidly cooling air, it was stifling too.

  “Just a little longer, baby. Just—” His hand trailed down to caress my bare hip. Gently, he manipulated me upward while he slid an embroidered cushion beneath my buttocks. “That’s it.”

  I pressed myself into the cushion and my moans into his shoulder, embarrassed of the little girl sounds. His hips met mine. The ache shot down as it followed the trespass of him and I was tautly, tightly full of his flesh, afraid to move. I doused his neck in the hot breath of relief. “Is…are you…?”

  “Yeah. Mmm.” He rocked very slowly. “Is that okay?”

  “I think so.” I shifted under him with an experimental roll of the hips. Everything below my clit throbbed dully, and above, as the bud was bumped back and forth…oh. Oh.

  “Look, Danni,” he murmured, tucking my chin against my chest. He rose and I saw…us. Together. “You feel amazing. Do you know that?”

  “It looks amazing.” He eased back inside me and there it was—eeesh—the sharp ache. “Gabe. I think I might actually be a lesbian.”

  His laugh was warm in my ear, like maple syrup over pancakes. Then he rolled his hips in that yummy way again.

  “I call bullshit on that one.”

  “I—”

  “Shh. Miss Warren. Be quiet and let me fuck you.”

  I did what he asked. I bit his throat as he gained pace from our lazy tempo, the ache falling away with each renewed thrust. Before I knew it, I was bucking up to envelope him before he filled me, and my soft curses were now whimpers of pleasure like the ones I made for Esmé. Even the insides of my thighs were wet.

  “See,” he panted, “I told you; don’t you like it?”

  “I think…think I’m going to…”

  He took my hair in fists and groaned into it, delighted that I was finally open enough for him to let go. And when he did…so did I.

  Somewhere in the middle of him pounding me into the grass, I came in great, heaving shudders that racked my entire body. The orgasm spewed from places untouched before his taking of me and sensations that were new, overpowering. Delicious. He tried to kiss me during the first spasm and I near enough bit his bottom lip off. When I slowed, he broke inside me.

  “Baby, I’m coming…”

  The words were rasped in my ear. I stroked my nails along his back, arched into him; I wasn’t sure what I was meant to do, but my limbs were soaked in the mellow relief of a thick climax and moving was a lot more effort than usual.

  Then we were still; a heap of mashed flesh beneath the shade of the birch tree, quivering and sweating in the swirl of warm and cool.

  Well, we truly sucked at resisting each other. Temptation: one. Gabe and Danni: a sticky, heaving nil.

  “Gabe,” I croaked. “I can’t breathe.”

  “Oh. Sorry, sorry…” He slid to one side.

  I followed, empty and desperate to press up against him.

  “Danni. Thank you.”

  I thumbed the red swell of my bite mark that surrounded his bottom lip, and he winced. “For the boner, or the GBH?”

  He chuckled into my mouth. “All of it, but especially that last part just now.”

  “I’m sorry I bit you. I just, I didn’t realize—”

  “It’s okay. It’ll go down.” He kissed me lazily, his palms molding my breasts. “It was worth every second.”

  “Huh.” I couldn’t help the grin that stretched my face. “Maybe I’m not a lesbian after all.”

  “There’s such thing as being bi, you know.”

  “No shit, Sherlock.”

  “Mind your mouth.”

  “Best mind yours. I’ve already done some damage.” I wound my arms around his shoulders. “I’ve never come like that before, you know.”

  “I’ve got plenty of new things to show you—surfing not included.”

  I hooked a leg over his and pressed myself on his thigh, riding him the same way I did Esmé. The aftershocks were saccharine and punctuated by sighs.

  “What are you doing, you little madam?”

  I smiled up at him through my messy hair. “Just…mmm. You have nice thighs.”

  “I gathered.” He laughed. “Stop it…you’ll get me hard again.”

  “That’s a bad thing?” I pouted.

  “You’ll be sore. Trust me.”

  “Oh, I see. When did you last get ploughed in the girl parts, exactly…?”

  “Well. This one time, at fern-poking camp—”

  “Stop trying to distract me from your very fine thighs.”

  “Did I…I m
ean, I was good, right?”

  I stared at him. “Did you not notice?”

  “Well…yeah, but you never quite know.”

  “You were amazing.” I plant a kiss on his upper lip. “It was like you knew exactly what I wanted. You never did that annoying teasing thing. Just made me do…stuff.”

  “Stuff.” He chuckled. “Well. I’m glad it was awesome. There’s nothing worse than lying there after sex and being all, ra ra, I am Lord of the Man-Or, and she’s all, yeah, you keep thinking that, you epic waste of cock.”

  I laughed so hard, he had to hold me still.

  He was right about being sore, too. It hit not long after we staggered back to the cabin, and as we curled up beneath the blanket in front of bad Saturday night television, my whole pelvis cramped. But now that I’d worn his skin, it seemed logical to stay wrapped in it, and we kissed and fumbled as we finished our battered picnic.

  He followed me into the bedroom and warmed the covers while I brushed my teeth. I went drowsy with his fingers teasing the dip of my spine and massaging my buttocks, erasing the tension caused by our enthusiastic fuck.

  “You’re a little bit lost, aren’t you, Danni?” He sighed into my neck.

  I melted back against him, his body forming mine. “I’m glad you found me.”

  There was a pause as he twisted in caught sheets. Then his breath settled on my ear, his voice a lush edge of a whisper.

  “Me too, baby. Me too.”

  Chapter Four

  Morning broke into the bedroom like an unwelcome visitor, lingering behind the curtains as its golden fingers groped for the lock. Gabe’s stubbled chin prickled against my shoulder, and his palm spanned the flat of my belly in an uncharacteristic act of possession.

  “What time is it?” I mumbled.

  He didn’t answer; just kissed my throat and pushed his hard-on between my buttocks.

  “Gabe? You awake…?”

  “Mmph.”

  The time on my phone was seven-forty a.m.. It was still early. I went to close my eyes and then the twinge in my girl-parts reminded me…

  Oh God.

  I fucked my not-uncle.

  The naked not-uncle who was currently pressing his hard-on into me and we both smelled like turf and sweat and…sex.

  Gabe was snoring lightly again, and I teased his hands off before I crept through to the shower. I needed heat and steam to clear my head, had to wash off what happened yesterday before the memory took root and started fucking with my brain. In the little cubicle, I turned the temperature up despite the morning sun and pressed my forehead against the cool tiles.

  I’d cheated on Esmé. I’d slept with a member of my family. Self-loathing hissed in my ear like the static on a broken iPod; was this some sort of absent-daddy issue? Did I have to be a cliché as well as a perv and a coward?

  Mum was due to pick me up in just over twenty-four hours, which was a very long time in Danni World to resist Gabe’s advances. That was the worst part of all, if I’m honest—that I still didn’t want to resist him. The thought of him sleepy and aroused in bed made me want to creep back in, still damp and warm, and wake him up foxy bitch style. His caramel bed-head made it ten times as tempting to knot my fingers against his scalp for kiss after sucking kiss, and his shoulders were made for clinging to, surely.

  But it was just sex. He’d said so himself; he could never be the love of my life. When I left tomorrow, Esmé didn’t have to know a thing.

  Not that isolation made the truth any less of a knife wound. Not that spending the next few hours with a very naked Gabe would balm it, either. I’d feel guilty— guiltier—if I let this carry on.

  What was I going to do, jeopardize my relationship with Esmé even more for the sake of a few more lays? Even if I never had to see Gabe again, that was a scummy idea.

  I had to hold out. Had to.

  Gabe was already in the kitchen as I walked through in my towel, and I could smell fat heating in all its salty glory.

  “Morning, gorgeous.” He grinned at me. “Bacon sandwich sound okay?”

  “Please.” I dived back into the bedroom before he could walk over, and patted myself down. Took my time combing my hair out and slipped into a strapless blue sundress. Brushed my teeth. When I finally emerged, the sandwich waited on the coffee table amid the shells, and Gabe was wiping the crumbs from his mouth.

  He stood to catch me around the waist and bit along my earlobe. “I like the dress. It’s cute.”

  “Thanks.” I pushed his hands away, stiffening. God…I didn’t want him to stop. This sucked big ones. “Gabe…”

  He stepped away from me. “I thought you might be a little prickly this morning.”

  “I’m not prickly,” I grumbled, sitting down. “I’ve just…I’ve been thinking.”

  “Sounds dangerous.” He sank down and picked up his coffee.

  “I don’t want to do wrong by Esmé.” I grabbed my plate and pushed my knuckles into the soft white bread. “It’s bad enough already.”

  “I see.”

  “Yesterday was, well, amazing…but today, can we just be normal? Please?”

  He folded thick forearms against another surfy T-shirt. “I can’t really complain, can I?”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’m sorry, Danni. I shouldn’t have come on to you the way I did.” He chewed his lip awkwardly. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  I nudged his bare calf with mine. “Makes two of us, then.”

  “No. This is on me.” He stared at his hands. “I shouldn’t have taken advantage.”

  “Don’t be stupid. Like you said—just sex, right?” Like adults.

  Silence.

  Right…?

  “I’ve got to drive out to the farm shop,” he said eventually. “Fancy joining me?”

  I nodded through a mouthful of very good bacon. The floorboards creaked as he stood.

  “Let me grab a shower, and we’ll get going.”

  Half an hour later, I was strapped into the passenger seat of Gabe’s mucky Range Rover while Radio Five commentators chatted in the background. As soon as I got some signal, I loaded Facebook on my phone and flicked straight to Esmé’s page.

  Missing my pixie girl read her status. My stomach flipped—not in the good way. I’ll call u in 20 xxx I typed beneath it, praying there’d still be signal at the farm shop.

  Gabe was evidently friendly with the young girl on the till desk, and I left him chatting rubbish with her while I sidled off to make the call. Esmé answered in gasping breaths.

  “Hold on, chick. I’m out running. Let me get to the end of the road.”

  I listened to her breath slow—not an unfamiliar sound, heh—and counted the thumps as she pounded the pavement.

  “So,” she said, “how’s it going?”

  “It’s not too bad,” I lied. “Did you see Dexter’s Noose last night?”

  “I took Carla. Not like that, before you say anything. Just needed someone to go with.”

  Carla was in her Biology class and was the designated sixth form lesbian. She was on to me and Esmé before anybody else.

  “I forgive you,” I said dryly. “Were they good? Tell me they were crap to make me feel better.”

  “What? Sacrilege! You know I can’t say that about Mattman and his merry band of rock gods.”

  “Bitch.” I giggled. “Miss me then?”

  Her voice dropped to a coy whisper. “You know I do. Tomorrow night, my parents are out until nine.”

  “Oh. Mmm.” I bit my lip. “Listen, baby, I have to go. We’re out at some farm shop in the middle of God-knows and I need to locate some choc before I combust. I’ll text you when I’m on the way home, okay?”

  “Okay.” She sighed. “You better. Love you, pixie.”

  “Love you too.” The words were all dry and I coughed when I hung up.

  Back in the shop, Gabe had already loaded the basket with bread, cheese and apples. I nudged the four-pack of pear cider with an arch
ed eyebrow.

  “You’re not getting me all drunk and relaxed again.”

  He grinned. “It’s for me. You don’t have to drink it unless you want to.”

  There’s a lot I don’t have to do unless I bloody want to, but that’s not the problem!

  “Can we get dark chocolate?” I said.

  “In need of a fix?”

  “Something like that.”

  “It’s by the till.” He nodded back toward the freckled girl he’d been chatting with. “Knock yourself out.”

  They had a surprisingly good selection: Divine Fair Trade, Green and Black’s. Some local stuff dappled with walnuts and dried cranberries which looked especially yummy.

  I held the bar up at the check-out girl. “Excuse me. D’you know if this is organic?”

  She squinted at it. “Not that one, I think. The Green and Black’s is, though.” She smiled shyly, nudging the bar in my hands. “I didn’t know Gabe had a girlfriend.”

  “Oh.” I froze. What had he told her? Was she just assuming? Crap. “We’re, um…”

  “Have you chosen?” Gabe came up behind me in the nick of time. “Get a couple if you like.”

  “One’s fine.” I tossed a bar of butterscotch into the basket and ducked my gaze away from the girl’s. I don’t know what was worse—that I wanted to say he was my boyfriend, or that she seemed to think he was when he was my not-uncle. Shit.

  Then Gabe stroked the small of my back absent-mindedly as he paid, and I didn’t push him off. I just went slowly beetroot as my thoughts drifted away from my girlfriend, away from the law…and to the boy parts that had driven me to distraction just twelve hours earlier.

  I drummed my fingers on the dashboard of the car. “Gabe?”

  “Hmm?” He put his sunglasses back on and started the ignition.

  “Did you tell the shopkeeper I was your girlfriend?”

  A beat. He swallowed. “I said you were with me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She asked if you were with me, and I said yes. I wasn’t sure what she meant, but then…I wasn’t sure what I meant, either.” He cleared his throat. “Let’s hope you never go in with your mother, eh?”