Page 77 of The Boys Next Door

“Wait,” she panted before she dove in for another kiss. “We have to—“

Oh God, Ian was sucking hard on her lower lip, hard enough to make her cry out, not letting her finish. She dug her fingers into his shoulders, so overwhelmed she squeezed harder and harder, tasting him, raking her fingers through his hair like she’d wanted to all week, trying to wrap herself around him.

“We have to talk,” she gasped out, even as she ran her tongue over his neck and impatient fingers yanked at the red bows of her bikini top, giving up on the tight knots to fondle her breasts roughly. “You wanted to talk. So talk.” She couldn’t help panting, as Ian’s finger on her spine made her shudder and she grabbed his hand, “This time it was your idea, right? Not Brendan’s?”

Ian’s chest rose and fell through a few deep breaths. Then he dropped his hands and inclined his head toward the bed. Diana let him guide her to the low mattress, wrapping the towel tightly around her curves. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she clenched her thighs together. Keeping space between their wet bodies — a bare inch — was the hardest thing she’d ever done.

Ian leaned back and rubbed his forehead. His eyes never left her face. The deep flush on his cheeks and chest made Diana’s fingers itch to stroke him everywhere and never stop. She sat on both her hands. Her towel threatened to fall open, any minute.

“Brendan always knew,” Ian said abruptly. “He knew I had a crush on you, from the time we were kids. But I’d never admit it to him, and the times he said something, I said you were an obnoxious little priss and no way.”

Diana’s mouth fell open. For a minute, she couldn’t speak. “You teased me constantly.”

“And you gave it back so well.” A grin flashed across Ian’s face. “Sowell.”

She blinked, stunned. Slowly, she pulled her hands out from underneath her. Her gaze moved to the trophies on the dresser, the open window with a view of her bedroom shaded by the huge tree, the photo of the curvaceous pinup girl near the bed, and back to Ian. He was stretched out on the bed, but tension lifted his shoulders, like he was holding his breath.

“Why?” she asked finally. “Why would you never admit it?”

“You’re so smart, Diana.” His voice dropped. “It’s kinda scary.”

“I’m not…” She broke off. “I’m not. There’s a lot that I don’t know.”

Ian’s lips twitched. “Don’t say that. I’m not even kidding.”

“You could have any girl—“

“Except you.” Hazel eyes held hers. “You just stopped talking to me. You stopped looking at me. You acted like you were too good—“

“I was shy.” She cut in, frustrated. “I was nervous. That year we moved away — I came back terrified.” Her voice dropped. She made herself hold Ian’s gaze. “I was so scared of everybody. I thought if I talked to you, you’d just laugh at me, or — make fun of these.” She gestured to her full breasts, spilling over the yellow bikini top. Her towel had fallen down to the mattress, somewhere in the conversation, and she hadn’t even noticed.

Ian blinked a few times. His hand closed over hers to give it a quick, firm squeeze. “Diana, what happened?” His tone was softer. “You wouldn’t tell Brendan. People tell Brendan all kinds of crazy shit. And you barely told me.”

She breathed in and out a few times. “People called me a slut,” she murmured finally.

“What? Why?” Hazel eyes peered at her, stunned. “Back then? You were just little baby Diana.”

“Well, you thought so.”

A sly grin flickered across Ian’s face. “Maybe not. But I never—“ He shook his head. “Jesus,” he muttered. “You poor kid.”His hand shifted so he could rub her wrist with his thumb. “What about now?” She could barely hear him, but his eyes didn’t leave hers. “Do you like it when I call you that?”

“Little baby Diana? Hell, no.” She tried to laugh.

“You know what I’m saying.” He didn’t smile back.

“Yes.” Sudden warmth flushed all her curves. She leaned over him to whisper. “I like it when you call me a slut, Ian. It’s not exactly the same, in case you didn’t know.”

His face stayed serious. “What happened?” he asked again.

“Things.” She took another deep breath. “Stupid things. A guy— grabbed me the first day, and there were rumors, and mean boys and mean girls, and it felt like it would never end. I was alone and I came home not trusting anyone. I didn’t even know who I was by the end of the year,” she said softly, “because everyone thought I was someone else.” Ian watched her, listening silently. “I was so scared of making the rumors true, without even meaning to. But, Ian—“ She stroked his hand. His large palm felt so good against hers.“It doesn’t matter so much now. Maybe sometime, I’ll tell you the whole story. But it doesn’t belong here. It doesn’t hurt anymore. And anyway,” she added quickly, “youignoredme. I stopped talking to Brendan too. And basically anyone male. You wouldn’t even say hello.”

Ian just shook his head. He kept her fingers in his. Warmth pulsed over her whole body from his touch.

“I really missed you when you came back,” he said quietly. “Wish I’d known what happened. I figured you’d come back too stuck-up to hang out with us.”

“Missed you too,” she murmured. “I didn’t know how to talk to you.”

Ian squeezed her hand. “That day Brendan came back from your house and told me he kissed you, and it was your first kiss— He tried to make me feel better about it. Even though we hadn’t talked about you in awhile. He said it just happened, and he wanted to help you out, and then you asked for more, and you were all grown up and gorgeous and he’d asked you to come over later so I could, uh, see you too.” A little smile twitched his lips. “I told him to have fun, because—“ he broke off, red creeping up his neck.

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