Page 21 of The Boys Next Door

“The twins are great hosts,” Diana said, smiling back. Someone’s knee pressed hers under the table. Her pussy still tingled from Brendan’s touch. Her heart rate had rocketed through the roof, but she couldn’t resist. “You’ve raised them well. They really know how to make someone feel at home.”

And even if she didn’t dare actually meet the eyes of those hosts right now, a little curl of excitement wound out from her stomach along with the nervousness. She was starting to see why Ian liked walking the line of getting in trouble. It was a rush, to get away with something.

“Glad to hear it. Especially about this guy.” Mr. O’Brian clapped Ian on the back. “Be a good influence, okay, Diana? He’s been scraping by at college, but we have a feeling he’s partying a lot. Half the time, we expect a call in the middle of the night saying he’s been arrested.”

She did manage a look at Ian then. She’d expected a shrug or that cocky smirk, but instead he scowled and turned away. His ears looked a little red.

“Please come over again soon, Diana,” Mrs. O’Brian said, as Brendan walked her to the door. “We hope to see you often.”

She could only nod. As soon as she walked through her own front door, told her parents hello, and pleaded off going shopping to spend some quality time alone withHamletin her bedroom, she ran straight upstairs and locked her door.

Stripping off her sundress and swimsuit, she jumped into bed, sliding one hand into her dripping valley and the other to her heavy breasts, burying her moans in her pillow and massaging herself to a deep, slow orgasm as she remembered everything that had happened with the boys next door.

Chapter 3

Blue ink looped across the paper in front of Diana. Her own pen was writing, and she was the one making it move. But she couldn’t say what words she’d scrawled in her notebook, or what her AP World History class was so busy discussing right now. She’d just made some brilliant comment, and she couldn’t even remember what it was.

What day was today, anyway? Wednesday. Three more days of classes before her last-ever round of high school finals, eight days until graduation and freedom, and four days since she’d given her virginity on a silver platter to the boys next door.

No one had noticed anything different on Monday. Well, except her friend Janelle’s comment that Diana looked a lot more smiley than usual, and maybe she was in looooove.

Diana had shrugged off the laughter and questions with a “I just got reallyintoHamletthis weekend.”

“It’s okay,” Marissa had broken in. “We all know your safety school was a convent.”

What her friends didn’t know was why, when they’d traded notes ages ago about their dream dates, she’d scribbled a few lame lines about a bookstore, a walk, and a peck on the cheek. She couldn’t handle the confession that her dream date started with sex, ended with sex, and had more sex in the middle.

She didn’t expect anything more to happen between her and the twins. She couldn’t. She might be inexperienced, but no way was she naive enough to consider that crazy, hot, and totally unexpected weekend to be anything more than a hookup. With breakfast. The two of them had decided to help her out for old times’ sake, and that was all.

She did have to admit that, back at school, she’d felt less shy about meeting boys’ eyes, even having short conversations. It couldn’t hurt that none of the guys at school were really in the twins’ league, or that since the weekend, she’d been more ragingly horny than ever before, too distracted to worry about being awkward.

Diana shook her head, flipping to a fresh page in her notebook and listening to the argument about some year BCE with half an ear. Brendan had at least been polite enough to call on Monday evening. Of course she’d been doing dishes in the kitchen after dinner, and of course he’d called the landline and gotten her mother.

“Brendan!” Her mother had sounded surprised, but pleased. When Diana had come home from the O’Brians’ house the day before, her parents had commented on how nice it was to rekindle old friendships. “I’m so glad you called. I wanted to thank you for looking out for Diana this weekend.” A pause. “Yes, I know she’s all grown up, but parents do worry about their only daughter when they’re away.”

Diana almost choked, covering up her laughter with a fit of coughing when her mother glanced at her.

“Yes, of course, Ian too,” her mother said grudgingly in response to something on Brendan’s side. “I’m sure you were both very hospitable.”

And the conversation just went on from there. Diana did her best to linger over loading the dishwasher and wiping down the counters while she eavesdropped, wondering why the hell Brendan was chatting up her mother. From her mom’s half of the conversation, which involved three-quarters of the talking, it sounded like she was catching up on Brendan’s entire life story from his past two years at UConn, and he was asking all about her yoga classes and her knitting club. Diana could only marvel.

“Oh, you want to talk to Diana?” her mother asked. Like it was an afterthought. “She’s right here.” Beaming, her mother held out the phone. “He’ssucha nice boy,” she stage-whispered to Diana. “If he and Ian weren’t twins, I’d wonder if they were even related.”

Diana took the phone like it was a hot ember, wondering if she could casually bring it into her bedroom — or if that would raise her mom’s suspicions — or if Brendan would unleash a stream of dirty talk about her sweet pussy and get off on knowing she was trying to keep it together in front of her mother…

She needn’t have worried. The entire conversation was disappointingly wholesome. Brendan asked about her finals and said he hoped she had time to relax. She managed a question or two about the internship he was starting in a couple of weeks, some financial job somewhere that meant wearing a tie. He mentioned casually that Ian would be working at the gym nearby, which would involve not getting up early. Diana made a noncommittal response.

Should she give Brendan her cell number? Play it cool? Which was more of a turn-on, Brendan in a tie or Ian in a tank top? Was this going anywhere at all outside her head?

While she debated, her dress starting to feel uncomfortably hot, Brendan asked, “Do you want to talk to Ian too? He’s right here.”

“Um,” she said. Her throat was dry now. Her mother was busy sorting through library books on the dining room table, humming. She heard Brendan’s muffled voice on the other end, impossible to understand, and some brief response from Ian.

“Another time.” Brendan was back on the phone. “Talk to you later, Di. Sweet dreams tonight.”

And that had been it. Diana tuned in briefly to Ms. Fielding’s imploring voice, begging everyone to organize their thoughts before they wrote their essays for their final, then tuned out again.

Obviously, Brendan had called because that was the nice thing to do after you talked a girl into a threesome with you and your twin brother, and he was a nice guy. At least, most of the time. And if Ian didn’t have the decency to get on the phone, two days after he’d taken her virginity — well, that was about what she’d expect from Ian.

---