by Penny Wylder
“Tell me then, tell me what you care about.”
Her eyes meet mine. They move around my face as her fingers keep moving. She looks like she's about to tell me, and then she stops. “It doesn't really matter.” Shaking her head, she drops her eyes back to her lap.
“Yes it does,” I say, urging her to tell me everything that just went through her head. “I want to know.”
Dalia moves her eyes back to mine, her face flat. “You really want to know?” she asks, so I nod, urging her to keep going. “All right, it's going to sound corny, but, gestures matter. Kindness matters, intent. . .” Pausing, her voice lowers as she whispers under her breath. “Love—”
Dalia stops breathing, every muscle in her body goes stiff as her eyes snap to mine.
I keep my eyes on her, letting what she said sink in. Chuckling, I reach out my hand to touch her face.
She jerks away slightly, stunned and not expecting it. But then she relaxes as my thumb sweeps across her jaw, and my fingers trace the curve up to her ear. Dalia shivers, and that shiver zips through the pads of my fingers and down my arm, hitting my chest like a lightning bolt.
Pinching her chin between my thumb and forefinger, I pull her face in as I move in closer. Our lips touch, and she exhales. Her cool breath scales down my chin and across my cheeks.
I watch her, keeping my eyes open as she closes hers. Her movements are delicate, almost unnoticeable. But I see them.
I see her. I've always seen her. Even when she thought no one was looking, I always was.
Her lips part as my fingers move across her neck and dig into her hair. Coiling her thick locks around my hand, I tug her head back.
“You know you're lucky,” I say against her mouth as I kiss her back.
“Oh yeah,” she says with a small smile. “And why's that?”
“Because you're getting way better sex with me now, than you would have back when we were in school.”
Dalia giggles, nibbling on my bottom lip. “I think that's probably true. No one is good in bed when they're teenagers. But. . .” she says slowly, walking her fingers up the center of my shirt. Pinching the corner of my collar, she pulls on it. “You're a man now, so I shouldn't need to teach you anything.”
Arching one of my eyebrows, I pull away slightly. She laughs again, grabbing my shirt with two hands, and yanking me back in for another kiss.
I can't tell her no. I know I should. I know if my sister ever finds out about us, Dalia is screwed. Sandy will make her life a living fucking nightmare. If Dalia thinks high school was rough, she'll never be able to handle Sandy now.
Ruthless. Cutthroat. Sandy doesn't see people, she doesn't see feelings, she doesn't see the hurt she causes along the way. All Sandy sees are obstacles and dollar signs. You don't want to be that obstacle, because she'll tear you the fuck down, and not look back.
“Where'd you go?” she asks, leaning back, and looking up at me.
“What?” I ask. It takes a second for her question to register, but I answer her before she has to ask me again. “Oh, nowhere, I was just trying to figure out if my backseat is big enough for me to fuck you in.”
She looks behind us, then down at my lap. “I think we have plenty of room right here.”
“Right here?” Looking around the full parking lot, I shake my head. “I don't know if that's a good idea. What if someone sees us?”
Like my sister.
“You weren't worried about that while you were eating me out.” Her smile thickens as she climbs over the center console and onto my lap.I don't stop her. I don't want to stop her. I've wanted to fuck this girl since the first time I jerked off. She's been my wet dream.
And now that I've had her, all I want is more.
Spreading her legs around my hips, she starts to pull at my belt. “Fuck it,” I say, “If someone comes through, they can watch.”
The idea excites me. Someone watching us as we fuck, the danger of being caught, the voyeur in the shadows. It's a fucking turn on.
Slipping my hand between the seat and the door, I push the button, reclining back to give her more room.
I love this version of Dalia. This version is a risk taker and it's fucking hot as hell. My dick is stiff, painfully pushing against my zipper, waiting for her to free it. She fiddles with the belt for a second, then I feel the tension release as she unbuttons my pants.
“Someone's excited already,” she says, her voice sultry and smooth.
“That's because of you.” Digging my fingers into her hips, I squeeze hard as I lift my hips up. “You make me fucking hard, you always have.”
Her skin flushes pink, and it's the sexiest shade of pink I've ever seen. Running my hands up her back, I grip her shoulder blades and pull her down for a kiss. Crashing my lips onto hers, she exhales, kissing me harder.
Dalia sucks my bottom lip into her mouth, and bites down. It hurts, there's a sting to the sharp edges of her teeth as they clamp down, but I fucking love it.
Groaning, I move my hands to her hair, wrapping it around my fingers. I won't let her go, I want her close. I want her closer than she already is. Holding her head, I pull at the roots, deepening our kiss.
My tongue sweeps across her mouth, tasting and licking, devouring her like she's my meal. If I don't eat I'll die, and no one wants that.
Her hand slips into my pants, wrapping around my length. I inhale a gritty breath as she squeezes, stroking up to the tip, and then driving her hand back down. Her thumb swirls across the head, and that little movement sends sparks shooting through my body.
“Fuck,” I say as I exhale, jerking my hips.
“You like that?” She bats her lashes, fanning her eyes like canopies. Sucking in her bottom lip, she holds it between her teeth and tilts her head.
That little movement is so damn sexy it makes my balls tighten and my dick throb. Growling, I glide my hands down her ribs with firm pressure. Dalia trembles and smirks, letting out a light giggle as if it tickles a little.
“I love that. I love the way your hand feels around my cock, the way you stroke me, you make me want to come already.” Pushing my cock into her hand as she glides down, Dalia moans.
Her hips are rocking, rolling in time with every stroke she gives my dick. She's moving faster, her eyes set on firmly mine, never looking away.
There could be an entire fucking audience watching us right now in this parking garage and I don't think either of us would know it. I can't take my eyes off her. She's all I see.
Pushing her panties out of the way with one finger, I softly touch her center. It's wet and silky, and so fucking hot.
Dalia moans louder, rocking her hips harder. Pressing her entrance, I slip my finger inside. In and out, in and out, I fuck her as she jerks my cock. I move faster, causing her body to slam down on my hand.
Her slick arousal wets my palm, and she slips around on my hand. If my finger wasn't inside her body, she'd probably slide right off my lap.
Raising up, she pulls my hand away and replaces it with my cock. Lowering herself down, her eyes roll back in her head as she arches her back. She sits still for a second, letting her eyes find mine again as her body adjusts to the thick wood inside her.
Licking my finger, I taste her, enjoying her flavor. “You taste so fucking good.”
Her eyes light up as she watches me, and I feel her pussy tighten around my cock. Lifting up on her knees, she drops down hard. My cock hits deep, drawing out a louder moan.
Over and over, I drive my hips up as she slams hers down. We're all moans and grunts, our skin slippery and our breathing heavy. Grabbing the back of her shoulders, I pull her down onto my chest.
I need her close. I want to feel her heartbeat as she comes. She's close, I know she's close. Her moans are getting louder, and she's starting to lose control. Her skin is warm, and her muscles are starting to quiver. The only sound around us is the sound of her soaked pussy slapping against my dick.
She starts to breathe heavier, and her n
ails scrape down the sides of my arms as her entire body melts into mine. Her face drives into the crook of my neck as she lets out a final moan.
That moan, that single noise she lets out is all I need to send me over the edge. My cock pulses, my balls tighten as my stomach clenches. Grabbing her thighs, I hold her body down as I push my hips as far up as I can.
My cock explodes, filling her pussy with hot cum. I can feel my dick as it jerks inside her body, twitching violently, creating a surge of heat that floods my system.
Dalia twists her face against my chest and uses her hand to wipe damp hair away from my face. “So, is lunch still on the table?” she asks with a smile.
“I don't know about you, but I just worked up an appetite.”
The restaurant isn't too far, and it only takes us a few minutes to get there. When we’re seated, she orders a light lunch, a salad and a bowl of soup. I, on the other hand, have the hunger of a starving lion. I order a burger and fries.
“This is nice.” Dalia goes to take a mouthful of soup, blowing on it first before sipping it gently off the spoon. “Thank you for this.”
“It's my pleasure, it really is.”
She's all laughs and smiles. Tipping her head back, her laugh sends my heart into my throat. It hits me, and in that moment I can't deny the feelings I have for her. The feelings that have always been there, but I never let come to life.
Dalia Greene's come back to me, and I won't let her go this time.
“Can I ask you something?” She pushes her empty bowl of soup away, wiping her mouth with her napkin.
“Of course,” I say openly and willingly. “You can ask me anything you want.”
Her eyes dance across mine. She's thinking, I can see it on her face. I'm just not sure what she's thinking about.
“All right,” she says, reaching for her glass of wine, and taking a big sip. She shifts in her chair, pushing herself in closer to the table. “Do you remember back in high school when we had that job fair?”
“Yeah, I remember the job fair.”
She eyes me, tapping the rim of her glass as she tilts her head. “Did you fuck with my portfolio? And be honest with me, I really need to know the truth.”
“Dalia that was so long ago, I—”
“I need to know, Lyle. Please, just tell me.” Her voice pleads, her eyes begging.
I just don't know what she's expecting me to say. The answer is no. I've never done anything to hurt her. Why would I?
“No, I didn't.” There's no joking in my tone or in the look on my face. I want her to know I would never have done that.. “I don't know how that stuff got in the trash, Dalia, I swear. I really did just find it there.”
Her eyes move rapidly trying to read my face, the bright green globes dark and wary. “You know what I think,” she says, folding her hands on the table, and resting her face on the back of her knuckles. “I think your sister did it. I think she purposely messed with my stuff just to screw me over, and you helped her cover it up.”
“Look, I didn't cover up anything. And, yes, I know my sister wasn't the nicest person back in school, and even now, she has some quirks that come off as bitchy, but my sister isn't a complete asshole. I don't think she had the opportunity to even do that. I mean, how would she? There were teachers and students everywhere. Don't you think someone would have seen her?”
“I don't know.” Her lips thin as she runs the pad of her finger in circles around the rim of her wineglass, her eyes squinting with thought. “I do know that someone messed with me that day, and the only person who had the chance, or the drive, was your sister.”
Holding up a single hand, I smile coyly. “Look, you don't know my sister like I do. She's got a hard shell, but she's really not a bad person. I think she gets a bad rap, and the stories about her have followed her for years. You'd be a little bit standoffish too if everyone blamed you for all the bad shit that happened in their lives.”
“Yeah, maybe. But I also know I've never done anything to purposely ruin someone else's life, and your sister got a kick out of fucking with mine.”
“We were kids back then. Sandy's not like that anymore, Dalia.” My voice is getting firmer, harsher, and really defensive. She's not perfect, but she's my sister, it's in my nature to protect her no matter what. Even if that means defending her when I know I might be wrong.
But I don't see her the same as other people do, and maybe that's because I'm too close to her.
“Lyle, you of all people should know who she truly is. You're going to tell me you can't see the ugly inside her? Come on, don't be naive.”
“I'm not naive, Dalia. Maybe you were just too weak in school to handle her personality. It's not her fault you couldn't stand up for yourself. It's easier to blame the bully than it is to accept any responsibility for it, isn't it?”
Gritting her teeth, her nostrils flare. “Are you really going to sit there and act like she's a fucking angel? Are you blaming me for what she did? Are you kidding me?”
“What do you want me to say, Dalia? Do you want me to sit here and rag on my sister? You want me to tell you what you want to hear just to make you feel better?” Holding out my arms, my brows jump to my hairline. “Because I won't do that. Look, why are we even talking about this? Why are you still thinking about something that happened so many years ago? It doesn't matter anymore.”
Scoffing, Dalia crumbles her napkin into a ball and throws onto the table. “You know what, forget I asked.” Standing up, she grabs her wineglass, and downs the rest of it.
She starts to turn and walk away, so I call out, “Where are you going?”
“I'm leaving.”
“Dalia, come on, come sit and finish lunch.”
“Yeah, I lost my appetite. Don't worry about driving me back, I'll grab a taxi.”
Slouching in my chair, I chug the rest of my drink and watch her leave.
Go after her! The voice in my head screams. I want to listen to it, it sounds like the right thing to do,
but I don't move. I just sit in my chair, watching her disappear out the front door and onto the sidewalk. She throws her arm up, waves down a cab, and climbs inside.
You're a fucking idiot, Lyle!
What the hell were you thinking?
Resting my elbows on the table, I rub my face. I feel like a fool.
Deep down I know who my sister is. I know how she treats others. But as her brother, I have the instinct to protect her no matter what.
I'm going to have to figure out a way to balance the girl I'm falling for, and the girl I shared a life with.
Loyalty or love. . .
How the hell do I choose?
7
Lyle
Senior Prom
“Can't you just talk to her for me?” I ask Kira as she stands at her locker. Leaning against one of the locker doors, I hold my books at my waist, trying to give her my best puppy dog eyes. “You're her best friend, she'll listen to you. There's got to be something you can do, some way for you to get through to her. It would mean so much if you would just help me out here.”
Poking her head out from behind her locker door, she stuffs a couple books into her bag, and then slings the bag over her shoulder, almost hitting me in the face with it. Ducking back quickly, I feel the wind off the bag as it whips by my face.
Kira doesn't even acknowledge the fact she almost knocked me out, but I see a slight smirk as she moves stuff around on the shelf in her locker. I think she was trying to hit me.
Don't say anything, Lyle, just let it go. You need her help.
“So? Do you think you can help me out?” Brushing the hair out of my eyes, I keep my voice level. I don't care that she just tried to smack me with her bag, I need a favor, and I'm willing to give her whatever she wants to make it happen. “You know I there are no boundaries. Ask and you shall receive, simple as that.”
“You're really trying to bribe me? Do you honestly think you have something I want?” Holding the thin metal edge of
the door, she keeps her eyes forward, jumping them around from shelf to shelf. “Are you kidding me? Did your bitch of a sister put you up to this? Because I know you're smarter than this, Vox.”
“What? No. Sandy doesn't have anything to do with this.”
Kira pauses for a second, staring off into space. “Well, the answer is simple. No.”
“No?” It's hard for me to acknowledge her rejection. So hard I don't even hear it at first.
“Let me make it easier for you to understand if that word it too big for you. Not a chance. I can't help you and I won't help you. There, understand that?” She glances over at me quickly, our eyes meet, and I can see she's pissed at me too. The hint of attitude in her voice is a nice addition that also gives away her true feelings.
What the hell did I do wrong?
What did I ever do to her?
I should expect this. It shouldn't be a surprise to me that she's angry. She and Dalia are best friends. That's how this all works. Everyone sticks with their group, with the people they fit in with.
Dalia and I aren't meant to fit, which is probably why this is all so damn messy. We're like water and oil, coming from different worlds that don't usually mingle. Well, not here at least, not when everything you represent gives you some sort of status.
High school isn't for the weak. Anyone will tell you that. High school is where the weak and the strong divide, where the weak fall, and the strong conquer.
I want to conquer Dalia. I want to climb her like a fucking mountain and claim her as mine.
“Why not? Come on, I'm not asking for much, just tell her I want to talk, that's it. There's something I need to ask her, and it's kind of important.” I keep my voice lighthearted, trying to sound like it's no big deal. But it is a big deal.
Prom is coming up, and there's only one girl I want to take. Except she isn't giving me the time of day. If she sees me in the hall, she turns and goes the other way. If I see her in class, she ignores me completely.
Kira closes the door with a hard thud, and gives me an annoyed glare. “It's too late, Lyle, you fucked up. I'm not going to help my best friend get screwed over for a second time. I let your shithead of a sister by once, and it cost Dalia everything. I won't do that again so you can fuck her over too.”