Page 13 of The Boys Next Door

Oh Jesus. As she let herself give in, pleasure began to wash over her body in waves.

“Say you trust us,” Brendan whispered above her.

“I— oh God. I trust you,” she moaned. And right now, it was completely true. With each stroke of Brendan’s cock, each lick and suck and squeeze from Ian, she let go, allowing herself to trust.

“Oh—“ she gasped. “Oh God. Oh my God.”

She was coming again, her vision blurring as warm buzzing haze filled her head and a rush of pure pleasure bathed her body in heat.

Dimly, she felt her pussy clutching Brendan’s cock in deep, slow spasms that spread through her whole body, felt Ian sucking her earlobe and fondling her breasts, felt Brendan groan long and low and thrust smoothly into her steamy cunt again and again until he slowly withdrew.

Strong arms folded her close, then helped her down from the treehouse and carried her through the dark backyard as she rested her head against a warm male chest, barely able to keep her eyes open.

Chapter Two

Pale morning light streamed through half-closed blinds. Diana squinted at the wide windows, then buried her face in the soft down pillow under her cheek.

The sheets smelled fresh and clean, but unfamiliar. And ooohh — her whole body tingled, and she was sore between her legs in a new way that wasn’t necessarily bad, just tender. Smooth cotton rubbed against her skin — every inch of it. She was completely naked, curled up in bed, and she wasn’t alone.

Letting her eyes open just a little, she saw the slope of a broad, tanned male back, peacefully rising and falling just inches away from her.

What? Oh God. Last night—

She blinked hard a few times, but either Brendan or Ian still lay on his stomach next to her in bed, his head turned towards the wall, one solid arm flung over her waist. The space on her other side was empty.

This had to be a dream. She was dreaming. But her body began to remember last night: opening her legs first to Ian, then Brendan in the treehouse; collapsing into strong arms that carried her across the lawn; snuggling in bed with hard male bodies on either side; resting her head on a firm chest as warm flesh pressed against her curvy breasts and ass; letting someone’s muscled leg part hers.

Sweet Jesus. Where were her clothes? Could she sneak out and do a dash of shame back to her empty house while steering clear of the neighbors? Shifting, she tried to turn over without waking the slumbering twin.

“Mmmmph,” he mumbled into his pillow, pulling her closer.

Her skin buzzed from his warm touch. So much for that. And if she was being honest, she wasn’t actually ashamed. Shocked, disbelieving, but not ashamed.

Slowly, her eyes opened all the way, taking in the large windows, the double dresser topped with a beach painting, the mirrored closet doors, and the family photos on the wall.

She knew this room, though she hadn’t set foot in here since she was young enough to sneak in and jump on the king-size mattress with Brendan and Ian. She was in Mr. and Mrs. O’Brian’s bedroom, light, airy, and spacious, sprawled in the middle of the bed with only a sheet for cover and an unidentified twin fast asleep beside her.

No. Yes. She clenched her thighs together, trying not to squirm. This was real. She, Diana Cooper, certified shy girl who’d worked her ass off to get into Yale, who was two weeks away from her high school graduation, and who’d never had the nerve to live out any of her wild fantasies before yesterday, had gone around every base and then some with the boys next door.

A large framed picture of the twins, posing in caps and gowns at their own high school graduation two years ago, beamed down at her from the wall of photos. Basketball stars, brown-haired hazel-eyed gods, oozing masculine confidence and looking like they owned the world. They probably did. What she wouldn’t give for a little of that.

Rising on one elbow, she tried to look over her shoulder at a sound in the doorway. Then she sank back into the pillow, moaning at the sudden twinge in her head. The twin next to her stirred, his arm slipping from her waist as he turned over and settled back into sleep.

A shot of vodka, a bottle of beer — had she really drunk enough last night for a hangover? She wasn’t even sure what that would feel like. But the shot had been generous, she wasn’t a big girl, and let’s face it — other than a few sips of wine, last night had been the first time she’d touched alcohol.

“Drink these,” a low voice said in her ear. “Water first.”

Blindly, she wrapped her fingers around a cool glass, ice clinking against the sides, and took a long drink. Better. And she didn’t need to look to know which twin was taking care of her.

“Thanks, Brendan,” she murmured, gulping another cold swallow of liquid. The mattress sank as he climbed into bed.

“It’s Ian.”

Blinking, she forced herself up on her elbows again to focus on his features. The dark freckle under his left eye announced he was unmistakably Ian. Naked, stretched out next to her, his face close to hers.

“Um, okay. Thanks.” She tried not to show her surprise. “How’d you know that I—“

“Cause you’re a lightweight little girl who’s probably never had a drink before.” He gave her a devilish grin. “My brother told me he gave you a beer, but I think you had more than that.”

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