Harmony raises an eyebrow but complies. I back up until I get to the bed—this pathetic twin I spent so many nights alone in—and drag her on top of me. With the pillows stacked, I get into a semi-reclined position while she straddles me. Her hair falls loose around both our faces and I suck on her bottom lip, which still tastes like citrus.
She whimpers but her mouth curves up at the same time and her other response is to grind on my cock through both our underwear (hers still covers the part I want to dive into while mine gets tight behind my undone zipper).
Giving herself a little space, Harmony slips her hand under my waistband and curls her fingers around me.
I close my eyes and make an incoherent sound.
“You’re so hard,” she breathes as she teases the head with her thumb.
In a choked voice I reply: “That’s … all you, babe.”
She strokes me up and down for a minute and I can’t take it anymore. I have to get inside her.
I reach between us and brush my fingers over the fabric at her center, which is damp and warm. Then, like I’ve been planning, I push the fabric to the side and stroke her.
Her breathing speeds up and she leans into my touch.
When I groan at how wet she is, she tells me, “That’s allyou, babe.”
Sassy as ever.
“Ride me?” I say.
Together, we get her onto me and I ease in. She lets herself sink down, tilting her head back at the sensation.
All her weight and pressure promising to wring me out? I’m really starting to wonder what the hell I did to deserve this kind of special treatment.
I make more incoherent sounds.
We thrust desperately at first, but the bed starts to creak so we slow down. I pull halfway out, then push back in gradually, taking the time to pay attention to how she feels at every point.
Her panties still on her feels illegal, just as I suspected (hoped) it would, and I twist my fingers into the elastic to keep her tight against me while we fuck.
Then, because she did something similar once before, I take her hand and put it at the base of my cock—at the edge of where we meet—so she can feel what her body does to mine.
With that, she rides me to bliss.
The sight of her teeth sinking into her lip at the end does me in. I can’t contain myself anymore. I’m gone.
We both quietly wince, panting and grasping at each other.
Luckily there is still a tissue box in the room.
Dealing with the aftermath is tricky, but I peer into the hallway to make sure it’s all clear, then Harmony darts across to the bathroom with her thighs closed while also carrying her jeans. I sit awkwardly at my desk chair until she’s done, then we switch.
We go downstairs like nothing happened, but my brother gives me the side-eye and I have to literally bite my tongue to keep from grinning.
After a half hour or so of conversation and pleasantries—during which Rachel apologizes for her defensive behavior earlier—my family sends us off with two gallons of juice and a mesh bag full of misfit oranges.
On the way home, I take Harmony to the diner. A few customers—who are used to seeing me but not her—get excited, but after a quick selfie, they don’t bother us. We ordermilkshakes, and when I’m done with mine, I get a text from my mom.
MOM:Harmony is a keeper. Thanks for sharing her with us. Love you ♥?
Start Me Up and Watch Me Go
HARMONY
Onmyphone’sdigitalmap, Griffin’s avatar moves closer to mine, scooting onward in the tiniest of increments. When I tap on it, it tells me he’s five minutes away. He shared his location once, so I shared mine back, and now we just track each other like psychos because every minute apart is like trying to breathe through a narrow straw under water. Today, it’s even worse because we’ve been so busy we haven’t seen each other in almost a week (which is practically a year in just-started-dating time).
