"Like you care if I—"
"Guys, guys, please! No fights tonight." Sandra stood between Adrian and me, breaking our exchange of glares.
"Yes, please!" Elliot begged.
"Fine!" we both said under our breath.
We entered the movie theater eventually. Julia and Sean sat beside each other, Emma sat next to Julia, Adrian sat next to her, and that left me next to Adrian. Sandra was sitting next to me at first, but her small size didn't allow her to see the screen clearly due to a tall guy in front of her, so she switched seats with Elliot.
I spent ninety-nine percent of the movie either with my eyes closed tightly or looking at everything except the screen. Even so, the screams and disgusting sounds of knives cutting skin, which were coming from the speakers, were enough to give me ridiculous chills that caused my blood to run cold.
I badly wanted to hold Adrian’s hand—just to feel a little bit safer and let this fear inside me cool down a bit—but I knew better than to do that. I didn't want his snarls or even curses … not tonight.
Emma, however, was clenching his arm like her life depended on it. Adrian, on the other hand, was concentrating on the movie and didn't seem to be paying attention to her; if he was, he didn't show it.
Sean and Julia, of course, were making out like there was no tomorrow. I would've been grossed out by it since they were pretty much sucking faces with lots of tongue involved, but their love was something very pure and soft, and it made me happy for some reason—even if the acts between them were anything but pure or soft.
I sighed at the thought, but was met with more screams and gushes which returned me to panic mode again.
Don't look. Don't look. Don't look.
"Ouch! Aw! God! Damn it!"
Don't look. It'll go away. Don't look. It'll go away.
"Aw, fuck!"
Just don't look. It'll end soon.
"Oh! Shit, Lily! Loosen your grip on my arm a bit. Your nails are about to break the skin," Elliot winced.
"Sorry!"
Later that night, I spent hours tossing and turning on my bed, unable to sleep. I was afraid to even blink, let alone close my eyes to fall asleep. I was so scared, so panicked.
After many arguments with myself, I snuck into my parents' room and crawled into bed between them. It was enough for me to rest my small body without them noticing me. I just wanted to sleep.
Since I was the luckiest girl in the whole world and all, moments later, my Dad started to snore like a broken old truck. Christ! I didn't know how my Mom slept beside him at all!
Oh, yeah… ear plugs. Or she would be on her sleeping pills anyway.
I had no other option but to go to his room. And so that's what I did. I tried the knob and was relieved to find the door unlocked. Entering the room, I saw him lying on his side with his back facing me, wearing only a pair of black boxers.
I tiptoed the whole way to his bed, hoping that he was already in a deep sleep and wouldn't notice me, but again, since I was so damn lucky that night, I heard his breathing change once I touched the bed.
"What do you want?" he asked without looking at me.
"Adrian, please. I'm so scared. I can't sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I see nothing but Freddy coming to kill me! Please let me sleep in here. Please?" I begged with everything I had.
He didn't reply.
"Adrian, I'm begging you. Just tonight, and I swear I'll leave at sunrise. Please."
"It's not a good idea!"
"Please. Please. Please!"
He sighed, and I knew I had won.
I took that as an okay and just didn't talk. I rested my body beside him on his bed, but he still wouldn't face me. I wanted to hold him so much—more than I'd ever wanted anything else at that moment—but I wouldn't push my luck any further.
While I was waiting for sleepiness to overcome me, I kept on staring at the tattoo that covered the biggest part of the skin between his shoulders along with most of his upper back.
I raised a hesitant hand to touch and slowly trace it, ever so tenderly, with my pointer finger. I knew better than to do that, but it was calling to me. I wanted to trace the elegant letters, which formed the shape of a word that I could never understand, with my finger.
"What are you doing?"
"What does it mean?" I asked, ignoring his question.
"It means, 'Mind your own fucking business, and keep your fucking hand to yourself, '" He shifted away from me, shrugging my hand off with his shoulder.
It wasn't something that surprised me. Maybe a few months ago, it would have, but now I was used to that cruelty from him. I sighed and dropped my hand to rest beside me on the bed, my thoughts going here and there. After a while, I thought Adrian was back to sleep, so I raised my hand to touch his back again.
This time, however, I traced the scar on his lower back. It was on the right side of his back. It was a lean line more like a bow, and the end of it almost touched the waistband of his boxers. I wondered if the pinkish color of it matched my own scar; after all, we both got them at the same time.
My mind drifted back to the memory of the day when we got those scars. With a lot of twins, one baby would be weaker than the other, and I got that part. I was born with bad kidneys. They were lazy at first—not doing their jobs right. For twelve long years, I lived with them, but I was okay … in most ways. Maybe I was a little weak, but it wasn't really bad.
Then, suddenly, my body wouldn't accept anything as a treatment, and my kidneys stopped working at all.
Long story short, I was put on the waiting list for a transplant, waiting for someone to die and give me his or her kidneys or even just one kidney. My parents had a hard time waiting for me to reach the top of the list; my dad could do nothing about it even with all of his influence and everything. It took too long, and I was losing hope, but I was okay with that, too. I only hated that I was going to cause them all pain if they lost me.
Adrian, on the other hand, was dying literally. He couldn't bear the thought of me leaving and never coming back. I tried soothing him, but I was helpless.
In the end, Adrian said that he would give me one of his kidneys.
I refused it. I rejected it. I turned down all of his attempts to convince me. My parents weren't saying anything about it. The lives of their children were on the line, and I think they just didn't know how to react.
It took just one declaration by Adrian that he would take his own life if I ever died for me to agree. My body accepted my twin's kidney easily. It worked inside me like it was mine, and I was feeling better than at any time before. The doctors said that it was because we shared the same blood type, genes, DNA, and we were even almost the same height and weight, back then.
I let out another sigh at the thought; he was now much, much bigger than I, taller, and all muscles and—man. I heard him taking a deep breath as my finger traced his scar one more time.
"Why do you hate me so much?" I asked in a whisper.
He didn't reply except with a soft sigh.
"I mean … thinking about what you once did before to risk your own life to save mine… Why all the bother? You could've just let me die." His body tensed a little at the sound of my words, yet he said nothing.
"Why do you hate me, Adrian?" I repeated.
He turned around and laid on his back. He stared at the ceiling for a moment before he looked at me.
"I don't hate you, Lily. Never have and never will.”
Well… B.S.
"You made it clear that you do a long time ago, Adrian."
He moved to lie on his side and face me. Right then, I felt his touch on my cheek, wiping away my tear.
"Lily," he whispered—the sweetest sadness filling his eyes, "I love you more than anything or anyone in the whole world. Please, don't ever doubt that."
"But—"
"I know. I know I've been a douche to you since … well, forever, but … there are things going on inside of me … changes … things tha—"
> "Tell me, Adrian."
"I can't … I can't tell you, Lily." He held my hand. "I have to suffer with this all alone. If I could ever tell anyone about it, you'd be the last person."
"Why? What does it have to do with me?"
"I can't explain… The only thing I can say is that … being close to you … makes it harder on me," he said.
More silent tears ran down my cheeks. He wiped them away again, closed his eyes tightly shut, took a deep breath, and then pressed his lips to my forehead. "I would never stop loving you, baby sis." He smiled with a hint of tears in his eyes. "No matter what."
I couldn't believe that Adrian was saying those words when I’d thought he hated me. Dad was right; Adrian was suffering through changes like he’d said … but I couldn't understand the part about it having anything to do with me being close to him.
I smiled sadly at his words. "And I you, Adrian."
"I know," he whispered back.
I wanted to hug him, to bury my head in his chest, and just lose myself in the safety and peace he always offered me, but I couldn't be that selfish person and ignore his feelings. He said he didn't want me that close, so I would keep my distance.
I felt his hand on the hollow between my breasts, touching it so tenderly. His fingertips lingered on my skin, sending chills all over my body—perfect, wonderful chills. Then, those chills rested all in my now-heated center.
I felt his lips on my neck—kissing me lightly, but hungrily—and it felt amazing. His breaths on my neck felt almost real. So real. Part of me thought for a second that I was still awake and this actually was happening to me in reality, but I shrugged it away.
Reality could never feel that good.
His hand rested on my side. He pulled me into him, and I felt his erection, which made me even wetter. He was hard for me.
I wanted to open my eyes and look at him, but I didn't want to end this dream just yet—not this time. This time was way better than any other dream I'd ever had before.
I felt his tongue on the skin behind my ear, and I moaned softly. He stopped, but I didn't want him to stop.
I was so afraid that this wonderful feeling would end, but moments later he went back to kissing my neck until he reached my collarbone.
So freaking good.
I moaned again when he held my breasts softly, squeezing them a little bit—ever so gently—but this time he didn't stop at the sound of my moan; he moaned back instead.
Even in my sleep, I was too dizzy to do anything when he turned me onto my back and pressed his body gently over mine. His hand touched the skin of my stomach from under my little tank top, and then I felt his lips touching where his hand had rested a second ago.
He spent his time there and drove me crazier with lust. This dream was so freaking better than any other dream I had ever had!
I gasped when he hooked his fingers in the waistband of my boy shorts. Excited at the thought of what he would do next, I raised my hips a little, helping him to take them off of me—and he did.
I even felt the air hitting my newly exposed skin. It felt so real, so real to the point that it felt surreal.
His hands wandered a little on my legs and thighs. Then, he ever so slowly separated them with his hands. I heard him gasping and moaning at the same time, though I didn't know how.
His lips lingered all over my inner thighs, and then his breaths were right on my womanhood.
Oh, God! So damn good! Oh, my God!
I let out soft moans over and over again with every kiss he left on my skin. Then, all of a sudden, he stopped.
God! No! Don't stop now! I want more! I screamed at him in my head, afraid to speak and end this outstandingly hot dream.
His lips stayed on my lower lips, but he wasn't moving them, he just left them there. His breaths alone, though not his soft lips, were driving me even crazier if that was possible.
I felt the tip of his tongue reaching out to enter my lips. Then, he separated my thighs a little more with his hands, which had never left them, and separated my folds with them in the process.
He moaned into my sex as he licked it like his life depended on it, and it was too much for me to keep holding in my moans.
My hips raised a little to meet his tongue on my sex, and I opened my eyes while gasping and moaning like there was no tomorrow. I cursed myself mentally for opening my eyes and ending this.
But…
The dream.
Didn't.
Stop!
Uh… Why can I still feel it even with my eyes wide open? Where am I? Oh, yeah… Adrian's roo—
What the heck?
I raised my head to look at what was happening to me … only to find my brother's head buried between my thighs!
"Adrian! Oh my God!" I gushed.
Like always, I woke up to the sound of my annoying damn alert, Beeb Beeb, Beeb Beeb, Beeb fucking Beeb! I tried changing the stupid tune more than once but every time I did, it would go back to this shitty tune – I didn't know why – that always woke me up with a bad mood.
Like I needed the extra annoying shit!
I got out of my bed with a groan and headed to the bathroom. It was locked, which meant my sister was in there.
"Lily! I need the fucking bathroom," I called.
"No, you don't. I just got in the tub!"
"Tub?! Are you fucking kidding me? It's six in the morning!"
"So?"
"I have to fucking pee!"
"Piss off, Adrian!"
Minx!
I couldn't wait any longer, so I decided to just go to the guest bathroom downstairs. I would deal with her later.
I finished my business and left the bathroom after drying my hands with a small towel, hoping that Lily would be done soon so I could take my shower.
"Adrian!" I didn't know that my mother would be awake at this time, but of course … she was. I knew immediately what was going to happen and why she stopped me with a gasp.
Aaaaaand, I'm in deep shit!
I froze in my place, my back facing her, giving her a clearer view of what she had stopped me for.
Fuck! I should've worn a shirt!
"Yes?" I replied, still not facing her.
Maybe she just woke up and she'll think it's a dream? Maybe she won't see it?
Yeah, sure… It's not like it's covering a quarter of your back or anything.
Damn it!
"Look at me!" she ordered.
I hesitantly turned to face her, not making eye contact with her. Chin down, I burned holes in my Mom's new carpet with my eyes.
"Do you want to tell me what that is on your back?"
Right into the subject!
"It's… uh… It's a ta-tattoo."
"Really? A tattoo? I thought it was only a fly!" She folded her arms in front of her chest.
Mom plus sarcasm … so not good.
"I know it's a frigging tattoo, Adrian!" she yelled. I didn't say anything; opening my mouth would only bury me in deeper shit.
She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. "Please tell me it's just a henna tattoo!"
What? She really thought I'd do that shit? "Uh… It's a h-henna tattoo."
"You're lying.”
“Yes.”
"Temporary?" she asked, the hope in her voice not going unnoticed.
I shook my head. "It's ink."
"Holy shit!"
Oh. My. God! My mother just cursed! My. Mom. Cursed!
That never happened, and I mean never. Lily or I would be grounded for two hundred and fifty years if we ever said that, or even something similar. "Oh, my God!" She brought her hand to her mouth to cover a sob. "Dave!" she called. Fuck! Add more to the fun. "Dave, get in here, please."
"Hey, what is it?" my messy-haired father asked, rubbing his eyes with his palms.
"Ask your son!"
"Adrian, what is it?"
I didn't reply.
"Ask him to turn around!"
For fuck sake, just tell him already
!
"Turn around? Why?"
"Adrian? Show your father how grown up you are. Turn around."
I wanted to flip her off but I knew it wouldn't be a very good idea if I did so, given that I was already in big trouble. So, I did as I was told.
"Holy shit!"
Yeah, I heard that before.
"What the hell, Adrian?! What the hell is this?"
What is it with me having to say it? Are they really that stupid?!
"It's a tattoo, Dad. And no, it's not henna, it's black ink that will last forever unless I remove the skin off my back for some reason, okay?!"
"You're in big trouble already, mister. Don't make it worse on yourself by giving us attitude," Mom warned.
Whatever! Are you done questioning me?
My dad came closer and examined it, probably looking for an infection or some medical shit. "And what language is this?"
"Arabic."
"What does it say?"
"I don't know …" I lied.
"Adrian?!" he warned.
"It means … courage, "I lied again.
"Really? How can you tell? Do you speak Arabic? It could be 'Soup' for all you know!"
"I know what is it because I Googled it, Dad!" I really did.
"And of course the idiot who did it doesn't know that you're underage!"
I didn't reply.
"Means one thing: you have a fake ID!"
I heard my mom gasping.
How does he know that? I looked at him wordlessly, then lowered my gaze to the floor again.
"I was in high school once, you know?" he answered my unvoiced question.
"You do realize that you're grounded, right?" Mom said.
Of course. It's what you do for fun! "Yes."
"Go get dressed, Adrian, and I'll wait for you in my office. I'll have to take a sample of your blood to see if you caught anything. And you'll hand me that ID," my dad said in his too-calm voice.
God! I hate to make him upset!
I nodded and looked at my mom, waiting for her to say it.
"You're grounded for three months, Adrian!"
"What?!" I shouted.
"No car, no cell phone, and no going out after school, just your football practice and the games, nothing more."
Illicit Desires (Illicit #1) Page 4