Page 5 of The Boys Next Door

“Fine,” she croaked.

“Can I come in?”

“Uh—“ She blinked as the door opened. Brendan’s broad grin turned her prickling skin into liquid heat. Too startled to look away, she stared into his hazel eyes.

“You look great. Let’s go.”

“I— I can’t.” She shook her head.

“What do you mean?” He crossed to her and put a hand on her bare shoulder. Oh God, why did he have to do that? His palm was so warm, his hand big and masculine. She could smell his male scent, cologne or deodorant or something else, salty and fresh. He didn’t even seem to notice that he was touching her, but she could barely breathe. “You’re all ready. You don’t have anything elseimportantto do.” He cocked his head teasingly toward the pile of books and papers on her desk next to her laptop. “Come have fun.”

“You don’t understand.” And she hated the way her voice dropped to a whisper. Dammit, when would she get past this insane shyness? When would she just be able to express herself like a normal person, as easy and comfortable as Brendan was right now? “I don’t do parties. I don’t hang out with people I don’t know.”

Brendan looked surprised, but he didn’t take his hand off her shoulder. “You need to get past that. You’re going to college soon. Everyone you meet will be a person you don’t know, and the parties—“

“I’m scared.”

Jesus, had she really just admitted that? And was Brendan moving closer and putting his arm around her? He couldn’t be. Yes, he was. He was standing right next to her, right up close, with his arm around her shoulders. And all she could think was that she was in her swimsuit, with her skin more exposed than covered, and he was almost naked too, and tall and muscular and very male, and she was hot and cold—

“What are you scared of?” he murmured.

“People,” she muttered. “Guys especially.”

“Tell me,” he said softly. “Why guys?”

Oh. My. God. He was rubbing her back, gently, and she felt like her body was on fire. Her crotch, especially. Her pussy was going to explode.

“I— had some bad experiences awhile back. I’ve never told anyone. Nothing really bad,” she said quickly, “but enough to…scare me. I don’t trust guys. And I don’t know what to do with them.” She looked up from the floor. Brendan’s head was cocked toward her, listening. His hand still stroked her back. “I’ve never...I’ve never kissed anyone. I’ve never even let a guy touch me the way you are, since—“ she broke off.

She’d said way too much. Any minute now, Brendan would flee her house, repelled by her complete uncoolness. He definitely wouldn’t be leaning toward her the way he was right now, turning his head and lifting her chin with his fingers as he—

His lips met hers in a light kiss. She stared at him, shocked, as he pulled back. Smiling hazel eyes met hers.

“Now you have,” he said softly. “Not so bad, right?”

It was a second before she found her voice. “That was a peck,” she said hoarsely. “That wasn’t a real kiss.”

Brendan’s eyebrows shot up. Before she could backtrack, he cupped her neck, twining his fingers in her hair, and pulled her close.

No. Yes. He was kissing her, his lips soft and alive, the beer on his breath sexier than she could have expected, and — oh God, that really was his tongue snaking into her mouth, hot and wet, touching her tongue, even licking it.

Her nipples were achingly hard, her whole body quivering. Her hands were pressed against Brendan’s chest — yes, his bare chest, feeling thick hair and hot skin. Her bikini bottoms were completely soaked with excitement.

His other hand still toyed with her back, sending shivers down her spine and straight to her pussy. And her mouth was opening eagerly to his as he sucked on her lower lip. All too soon, he let go.

“Come over,” he said softly. “We’ll take care of you.”

We?Meaning who, exactly? Him and Ian? He had to be crazy. Ian certainly wouldn’t take care of her. And even though Brendan had his arms around her right now, caressing the back of her head in a way that made her want to scream from the fever pitch of excitement building inside, this couldn’t possibly mean anything to him that came close to what it meant for her.

He’d kissed a lot of girls, she was sure of it. Screwed a lot of girls, most likely. And if she went next door, he’d probably introduce her to everyone, dutifully, then forget about her.

“Not this time.” Her voice was soft. “I really can’t. But thanks.”

“Then come over after everyone’s left. When it’s just me and Ian. You can handle that, right?” He smiled encouragingly, as if he didn’t even notice that her thighs were shaking as he massaged her back.

Maybe you,she wanted to say,but not Ian. He’s an asshole who won’t give me the time of day.What came out, weakly, was, “I don’t think Ian likes me very much.”

“Sure he does. Come over around eight. We’ll go swimming.”