by Celia Aaron
The screen on my phone flashed with a picture of Braden grabbing his dick. His doing, not mine. I’d never been so relieved to see that picture.
His call came in over the speakers.
“What up bitch?” His voice was loud and somehow he sounded more drunk than before.
“Nothing man, almost there. You guys close?”
“We’re walking down your hallway. You drive like a fucking old retired man in a golf cart. Remind me to pick you up some Depends there, Grandpa Moses.”
Kyrie didn’t even crack a smile.
“Whatever man. You have a key. Should be golden. Kasey is out with her girlfriend.”
“All right man. See you guys in a minute.”
I pulled into the parking garage of my high rise and wound around the concrete structure to my parking spot. I tried to get out in time to open the door for Kyrie, but she was already shutting her door when I got around the truck.
“Sorry, I was gonna try and help you down.”
“I managed. But thanks.” She looked up and held eye contact.
“I’m sorry.” Why did I keep apologizing? “I’m trying. Sorry if I’m awkward, I-I’ll shut up now, damn.” Apologize some more Easton, you bumbling fuck.
She let out a giggle that subsided into a smile. A smile I wanted to hold onto for a long time because I wasn’t sure if another would come. “It’s not you, Easton. It’s me. Just ignore me, seriously. You’ll be better off.”
Wow, I got the whole “it’s not you, it’s me” speech before I’d even taken her on a real date. Fuck it, she smiled at me. It was a win as far as I was concerned. “No worries. I just don’t want you to be upset with me.” You pussy, Easton.
We walked over and hopped in the elevator, headed to my floor. I tried not to crowd her but I could see her reflection in the stainless steel elevator doors, barely. Even with the limited view she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Curvy and sexy—stick figure models never did it for me. I noticed her nipples jutting against the fabric of her dress.
I wondered if it was cold in the elevator, but it was impossible to tell. My collar was sticking to my neck and my palms were clammy. Ding. Thank god.
We stepped out into the hall and strode toward my condo. When we got to the door I pushed it open. “Hey dick weed, we’re here.” Silence. “What the hell? Where are they?” I looked back to Kyrie. “Make yourself at home.” I motioned to the couches in my living room. “You want a drink?”
“I’m fine.” Kyrie walked through the entryway, her head turning back and forth to examine my apartment.
She was probably just taking in her surroundings, but her recent attitude made it seem like she was judging every little piece of decor.
The place was pretty basic and I liked it that way. Neutral paint, black leather furniture set, cherry hardwoods, flat screen TV on one wall with some basic surround sound speakers.
She walked over and plopped down on the couch, folding her arms. It pressed up her cleavage and I wanted to dive on top of her. I pushed that urge deep down inside because it would most certainly end with her spraying my eyes with keychain mace.
I strode down the hall and turned the corner to the master bedroom. The door was closed and I heard light moans. Braden, you motherfucker. Shit was about to get awkward. Kyrie obviously did not want to be alone with me, but Nikki was otherwise occupied.
I turned back around the corner and our eyes locked. “Pretty sure they are fucking in my bedroom.”
Kyrie rolled her eyes and sighed. “I’m going to kill her.”
It sounded like it might be a legitimate threat. I mean, I didn’t know her that well. Judging by recent events, I did not envy Nik at all. I hoped Braden was fucking her like a champ, because it might be her last lay.
“I’m sorry. I can tell this isn’t how you wanted tonight to go.” I ran my hand through my hair and sighed.
She buried her face in her palms.
“You look beautiful though. I should have told you that earlier.”
Her face perked up and I caught her gaze but then she dropped her face in her hands once more. “Ugh. I’m sorry, Easton. Really, none of this is your fault. I’m kind of—a mess right now.”
I walked over to her. “Is it okay to sit here?” I nodded to the cushion next to hers but held up my hands as a sign of diplomacy. She had me thrown completely off my game.
Her head shook in her hands and I wasn’t sure if it was a yes or no. I sat down anyway and she inched away from me.
“Is everything okay?”
She exhaled, loud. “Yeah, it’s just—” She glanced up to me and then away again. “Everything is wrong. It’s—”
“You can talk to me. I’m sitting right here.”
“You don’t understand, Easton.”
“Well, can you look at me at least?”
“No, no, actually. I can’t.”
I chuckled a little. “Is there something on my face? Jesus. I’m not Quasimodo.”
She chortled. “No, you are hot—I mean, you look perfectly fine. And thank you for the compliment earlier.”
“No need for a thank you. Was just being honest. I hate that your night is ruined. Nobody that looks the way you do in that dress should be sad.” I leaned over and pushed a few fallen strands of hair behind her ear.
My fingers grazed her soft cheek. She turned to look at me and the side of her face landed in my palm. She nuzzled into it.
I ran my thumb back and forth on her skin and our eyes locked on one another. I could practically feel her hesitation in my fingertips, but her want as well. Don’t let her look away.
She started to retreat, and I ran my hand along her face and back into her hair, snaking my fingers through it. It was soft and long. I wanted to bury my face in it and see what it smelled like. She closed her eyes for a moment, before opening them again to meet mine.
“Easton, I can’t—”
Fuck it. I placed my other palm on her opposite cheek and leaned in, pressing my lips against hers. I wouldn’t let her slip back into a mood. She halted at first, and I pressed my lips harder into her.
I felt her hand graze up my back, all the way to my nape, and then she pulled me toward her.
Our lips parted, and our tongues began to slowly intertwine. She tasted like red wine and mint gum. Both of my hands were in her hair, and her nails scratched lightly against the back of my neck as she moaned into my mouth.
I moved to her neck, the sweet spot roughly halfway between her collar bone and ear, alternating between sucking and licking.
“Holy shit.” She gasped.
I tried to log her reaction to every tiny spot I kissed, every little thing I did. I wanted to know which buttons to push so that she couldn’t shut me out again. Hot and wanting was how I wanted her, always.
The verdict was definitely in that she loved my hands in her hair. Each time I gripped it harder she tensed and arched her back, her coos louder and more pronounced. My hard-on returned with a vengeance. I loved pulling hair. It was my thing.
I moved up to her ear and palmed her breast, rolling her nipple between my thumb and index finger, the same way I had in front of the restaurant. I leaned back for a quick second and her eyes were closed as she bit her bottom lip.
I looked down to my hand on one breast. The other was practically begging for attention. Before I could stop myself I dipped down and took her nipple in my mouth over the fabric of her dress. It pearled on my tongue and I sucked, hard.
Her back arched from the couch, smothering my face with her large, round breasts. It was better than closing out game seven of the World Series. I bit down on her nipple and she half moaned and half begged. “Do that again.”
I flicked my tongue across it, then worked a lazy circle around before biting down again as I squeezed the other tight in my fingers.
“God,” she said on a breathy exhale.
Heat coursed through my body and landed straight in my cock. I had to reach down and adju
st myself to prevent circulation issues. I released her from my mouth and looked up at her face. Her head was straining against the cushion and, without warning, I grabbed the edge of her plunging neckline and yanked the dress down, exposing the tight nipple I’d just had my mouth on.
“Jesus.” Her hands flew up to the cushion behind her head, nails digging into it as I leaned down and took her exposed breast into my mouth, giving it the same treatment as before. Naked tits were definitely better than dress-covered tits. I worked my tongue on her flesh and slid my hand up her inner thigh, expecting her to cut me off with a leg closing maneuver.
Instead she spread them the slightest bit, inviting me closer.
I’d forgotten she wasn’t wearing panties. How? I’m not sure. But when I got to the promised land, I was met with warm slick folds instead of the panty fabric I’d expected.
She was so wet my fingers slid straight into her. “Holy fuck.” I went with it and took my fingers to the hilt, since she was apparently warmed up enough for them. “God, you’re so tight and wet.” The words escaped my lips before I could filter them.
She moaned. “Because you won’t quit staring at me with that goddamn beautiful face, you prick.”
She’s mine. I grinned. She finally let her guard down and my dick was doing all the thinking for me now.
I moved back up to her ear and worked her clit as her hips started grinding on my fingers in time with her moans. I pushed two fingers back inside and gripped up to find her spot.
“Damn your fingers.” Her hips sped up.
“You want me to put this cock where my fingers are?” I gripped her wrist that was still up by her head, hard, and moved her hand down to my dick. She squeezed.
“You’re such a fucker.” She nodded faster than anyone I’d ever seen.
“I will be in a minute.” I pulled my fingers from her slick pussy and yanked her up by her wrists. We needed a bed for everything I intended to do to her. “Follow me.”
My fingers intertwined with hers as I pulled her toward Kasey’s room—a mortal sin, but fuck it, I didn’t give a shit at this point.
“Where are we going?”
“My sister’s room. She’s gone.”
“You sure?”
We were nearing the door.
I looked her up and down. She was hot, flushed, fucking gorgeous. “Umm, yeah, I am definitely fucking sure.”
And then I stopped. All my condoms were in my room where Braden was rough riding Nikki. Thankfully, I always kept spares in the guest bathroom in case buddies ever brought girls over.
“I have to run in the bathroom. Be on her bed naked when I get back.” My words were a low growl.
She dropped her gaze. Was I losing her? I pulled her to me and claimed her in another hot kiss, mastering her with my hands and tongue. She melted under my touch, her reticence falling away as she pulled me closer. When I released her, she was breathless again, her eyes hooded.
“On her bed. Now.” I sprinted across the hall to the bathroom door and started rifling through the drawer where I kept the condoms. I was so jittery I fumbled one of the damn wrappers around on the counter and kept pushing it across the surface, trying to get a grip on it.
A shriek froze me in my tracks. Not a sex shriek, either. Like a horror film shriek.
I ran back toward the door to Kasey’s room when I heard a female voice.
“Holy fucking tits. Come on in and join. This shit is like Christmas.” Kasey’s voice.
I ran through the open door as Kyrie turned to sprint from the room. We collided, and I knocked her to the ground.
“Oh my god, are you okay?” I leaned down and lifted her to her feet. She was covering her eyes and laughing hysterically. Not in a good way. It was like she was in shock. What the fuck?
I glanced up and there was Kasey, wrapped up in a sheet. A girl was tied to the bed, blindfolded, legs spread eagle.
“Hey big brother? She must be your hot date you wouldn’t shut up about.” Kasey motioned to Kyrie.
I stared lasers into Kasey’s skull. It only made her smile wider. “I thought you were going to be out?” My words came through my teeth.
“I decided to dine in for all three courses.” She smirked. “See what I did there?”
Kyrie laughed, one hand shielding her eyes.
“See, she thinks it’s funny. Just a misunderstanding is all.”
As long as Kyrie wasn’t screaming or running, I figured things were okay for the most part, the lesbian BDSM scene right in front of us notwithstanding. I surveyed the room for a second and decided to go with it. I chuckled.
“Well Kyrie, this is my sister Kasey. Kasey, Kyrie.”
Kyrie still shielded her eyes with one hand. “Hi. Should we like shake hands or something?”
“It seems like we should, doesn’t it?” Kasey nodded and moved from the bed, still wrapped in her sheet. The comforter followed her and slid to the floor.
“Oh, my.” Kyrie must have caught an eyeful because she gasped and brought her hand lower over her face.
I glanced to the bed and saw a vista of spread legs with a big bald pussy sitting front and center.
“Hello? Kasey? Who’s there?” The pussy girl was shaking her head back and forth, as if searching for our voices in the dark.
I did my best not to look again.
Kasey was in front of us and spun around abruptly toward the girl. “Shut up!”
Kyrie edged toward me as Kasey flipped back around.
“No, don’t worry.” Kasey smiled at Kyrie. “She asked for me to treat her like this. Like a BDSM thing or something? Ignore her. I’m Kasey, this idiot’s sister.” She held out her hand.
Kyrie went to take it.
“Wait. Wait. That’s my bad.” Kasey adjusted the sheet and freed up her other hand. “Didn’t want to tuna palm your ass. There we go, this one’s fresh and clean.” Kasey and Kyrie shook hands.
The girl in bed started to struggle against her restraints. Kyrie and I both made the mistake of looking and then covering our faces.
“Quit moving, you little whore, before I fuck your ass up and make you fix me a sammich!” Kasey looked at me and grinned.
“Dude, what the hell?” I motioned to the girl in the bed without looking at the scenery. “Stop being a bitch.”
“Oh, she loves it. Don’t you?” she called over her shoulder.
“Yes, master.” The girl stopped struggling.
Kasey grinned. “See? She watched Fifty Shades of Something or Other. Wanted to try out the Dom/sub something. I thought it sounded idiotic at first, but then she said I could talk mean to her, boss her around, and fuck her up if she misbehaved. Natch, I obliged.”
“I don’t think that’s exactly how BDSM works.” Kyrie smiled, hand still over her eyes.
Interesting. Maybe she was kinkier than I thought, reading sex books and whatnot.
I glared at Kasey. “Did you not fucking hear us come in the house? Braden is pounding Nikki out in my bedroom right now.”
“Oh, I had ear buds in. Didn’t hear anything. My bad.” Kasey belted out her cackle-type laugh, the same one she used when she was up to something evil.
I stared at her. “You had ear buds in while you were going down on her?” I glanced to Kyrie who was now fifty shades of red and pink in the face, giggling at our conversation. Well, most likely at Kasey.
“Yeah, I don’t need that bitch telling me what to do and where she wants it. I’m a fucking artist down there, Easton. People need to respect my creativity, and I need a rhythm when I’m attending a clam bake.”
Kyrie began to choke on a laugh that was much larger than she could handle.
“Jesus Christ.” As much as I hated saying the words, I knew they were for the best. I turned to Kyrie. “I should go ahead and take you home.”
Kyrie nodded, still unable to speak.
“It was nice to meet you, Kyrie. Come back, okay? This shit ain’t normal. I mean don’t get me wrong, we’re fucked up,
but not like, well, this.” Kasey held her arm out to the still full on pussy display as if she were introducing someone on a stage. “This here is a pay per view event type sitch. You lucked out.”
“It-it was nice to meet you too.”
“Well, sis. So this was nice. But we’re gonna—”
“Yep.” Kasey winked at me as Kyrie and I backed out of the door. She shut it behind us and we both let out sighs of relief.
We could hear Kasey on the other side of the door. “You Subby McSubberson, running your tits off when I got company! I ought to lash your pussy Indiana Jones style!”
“Oh. My. God.” Kyrie drew a lock of hair between her teeth and bit down. A cute little tell.
“I know.” I scrubbed a hand over my face. “I think I may be scarred. I mean, just—” I couldn’t think of anything better to say.
She stopped the hot hair biting and smoothed her dress. “Yeah, I should really get going.”
Fuck me. She was starting to avoid my eyes again. I’m going to kill Kasey.
“Let me grab my keys.”
“No—” She looked me up and down and turned away. “I really should take a cab.”
“Not gonna happen. I’m getting my—”
She grabbed my arm, and then squeezed and held on longer than I think she wanted to. “No. I need to go alone.”
“Why? What the fuck?” Heat rushed into my face.
Her gaze turned to the floor. “Because.” She exhaled a huge breath. “If you take me home, you’ll stay the night.”
KYRIE
NIKKI SNORED NEXT to me in my bed. The sun had long since been up, and I’d been staring at the ceiling thinking about Easton.
Last night was a mess. I turned over and peered out my window at the clear patch of blue sky. The blue reminded me of Easton’s eyes, though they were much darker and had a mischievous sparkle to them. I batted the thought away and tried to force my thoughts into Teen Sparkle territory. Maybe if I concentrated on the drivel article I was writing about the latest teeny bopper sensation, I could forget Easton.