Page 6 of The Boys Next Door

Brendan gave her a final pat and unwound his arms from her back. She stood rooted to the spot as he left the room. A minute later, the sound of the front door opening and closing sent a sigh of relief through her.

This hadn’t meant anything to him, she told herself, as she tugged down her damp bikini bottoms. It felt all too good to peel off her top and let her breasts surge free. Her nipples were deep red, puckered with excitement, just begging to be pinched and caressed.

She shook her head quickly. Brendan had been tipsy and horny, and probably would have gone for anything woman-shaped. She just happened to be available. Or he’d felt sorry for her and had given her a pity kiss. Or…or…

Two seconds later she lay flat on her back in bed, moaning, rubbing her swollen clit and teasing her birthday dildo in and out of the juicy entrance to her pussy.

“Brendan,” she moaned. “Oh god, fuck me, Brendan.”

She might stutter with boys in person, but in her fantasies she was wanton, confident, all woman and all about sex. As her aroused pussy clasped the thick dildo, she imagined Brendan on top of her, smiling like they shared a special secret, working his cock carefully into her most private place.

And — oh God, Ian was there too, watching exactly the way he’d looked her over in the grocery store, his eyes exploring every detail of her writhing naked curves beneath his brother’s muscular body as he smirked at her. And stroked his hard cock. And—

She groaned out loud as her tingling pussy clamped down on the rigid spear buried in her depths, her frantic circles on her clit peaking in a long spasm that left her gasping as she came again and again.

*

At eight-thirty that evening, the last guest left the house next door, staggering down the front walk and shouting some joke over his shoulder. Diana had been pacing her own empty house for the past half-hour, listening to soothing music that was doing nothing to calm her down, and arguing with herself about whether to take Brendan’s invitation. He’d just asked her over because he felt sorry for her. He’d probably forgotten all about it. And—

Fuck it. She twisted the radio dial to the rock station, cranked up the volume, and swung open the door to her parents’ liquor cabinet for a shot of liquid courage. Rum? Gin? Frangelico? She had no idea which one to choose. She’d never tried more than a sip of wine. But time was ticking, so she did her best to toss back a shot of vodka, spent most of the next minute bent over coughing, then went upstairs to put on her swimsuit, a sundress over it, and just enough makeup to look like she’d tried a little but not a lot.

As Diana walked up the path to the house next door, tingling warmth spread through her arms and legs. She was starting to feel more relaxed. The door opened, and she caught the cleft in Brendan’s chin, relieved that the right twin had answered the door. Then she sucked in her breath as he bent to kiss her cheek. He was still just wearing his swim trunks, and she realized too late that she was staring at his rippling muscles.

“You came.” He smiled at her, walking her into the kitchen with a hand on her back. Her heartbeat accelerated. Oh yes, she had, just a few hours ago. Suddenly she wondered if Brendan could smell her pussy on her fingers, and instead of being terrified, her stomach curled with arousal. A little part of her hoped he could. He was standing much closer than he needed to. “I was about to go over there and get you myself. Beer?”

Party leftovers littered the long kitchen. Diana blinked at the bags of chips spilling out, the bottles everywhere, the open jars of salsa, the melting ice. “I— sure. I’ve never tried it.”

He opened a bottle from the cooler, handed it to her with a smile, and guided her through the house to the backyard.

There was no way he could know what his hand at the small of her back was doing to her. She tried to breathe normally as his thumb stroked her through her light dress, right above the waistband of her swimsuit bottoms.

At least that stupid shot of vodka was helping. Her legs weren’t shaking now, even though her crotch was already damp again.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he said softly. Was that a joke? She couldn’t be farther from comfortable right now. “Feel free to swim. I’m going to do some cleanup, but I’ll be down soon.”

What? Diana stared at his back as he walked away, outlined against the setting sun. This was what she’d been afraid of. Maybe she hadn’t passed the fun test. Should she have kissed Brendan when he met her at the door? She had no idea what the hell to do. At least he’d stranded her in an empty backyard, with only the chirping crickets and the darkening sky for company, instead of the middle of a big party.

Sighing, she sipped the bitter bubbly drink in her hand, just to have something to do. But as the bottle got lighter in her hand, she began to relax again, leaning back in the chaise longue.

Years had passed since she’d set foot in this backyard, but she still knew it so well. There was the long pool in the middle where she’d tried to hold her own in water fights with the twins, the lights strung up over the patio that had held birthday parties, the darkness at the back of the yard where clumps of trees made tall shapes against the deepening night sky, and, buried in those trees, the treehouse the twins’ dad had built for them ten years ago. She remembered the “no girls allowed” sign Ian had posted on the treehouse, and the way Brendan had tried to convince him to take it down.

It felt good to be back. Safe, really. Comforting. Relaxing. It was probably better that Brendan had left her alone. And the pool looked so inviting.

She stood up, set the empty beer bottle on the patio table, laid her glasses down next to it, and pulled her dress over her head.

More warmth spread through her body, curling out from her stomach in the most relaxing way. Kicking off her flip flops, she strolled to the edge of the pool and jumped in, not with a sleek dive, but a kid’s belly flop.

Ooohh — that stung. In a good way. The pool was pleasantly warm, still holding the heat from the day, and she swam a slow lap, enjoying the way the water caressed her body and flowed over her curves, washing away the stress of finals and all of senior year.

Her head felt so buzzy and relaxed now. Brendan had been right — she should celebrate after four years of hard work, or at least take it easy for a little while. Her whole body was tingling. Her limbs felt a little heavier, but she could still move easily through the water.

On the second lap, she rolled onto her back and floated. The sun had set completely now, leaving the sky dark and salted with stars, the only light in the yard coming from the lanterns over the patio.

Suddenly, whining chords split the quiet air. A cymbal crash made her splutter and kick. Water streamed into her eyes as someone cranked up the growling music even louder and jumped into the pool with an enormous splash.

A sleek body, outlined in the darkness, sent water arcing up, moving swiftly past her with powerful strokes.

“Brendan…?” she asked.