Page 5

Much better, sweetheart. I do have a lot going for me. And I am the fucking star, thanks for noticing. I slide my hand over her stomach, causing her to flinch from my tickling fingers. I remember to soften my touch, even though my urge is to bend her over and fuck her from behind. I can be soft. Sometimes finesse is exactly what girls need, and I know Maison isn’t nearly as aggressive as I am.

“He’s just misunderstood,” I tell her and lean in closer. “He doesn’t mean anything by it.”

She opens her mouth to say more, and I use the opportunity to kiss her plump lips. I slide my tongue right into her mouth. “Enough about him, baby. I’m all you need right now.”

She smiles and leans into the kiss. Fuck, she tastes good—she smells good, too. A fresh-from-the-shower smell, like fucking flowers. Too bad for Maison. He’s going to have to fuck her for the first time, smelling like me. I plan on tasting every part of her body before I’m done with her.

I kiss her for a few minutes as she moans and relaxes into the sheets. Her little tongue slips in my mouth, and I grab a handful of her tits and really get a feel for them. I move my lips down her neck and chest and take one of them in my mouth. I’m about to clamp down but stop myself and slide my tongue down her stomach instead toward that glistening pussy waiting for me.

“Maison,” she moans into my ear, pressing her body into mine as our kiss deepens, “you feel so good, keep going, don’t stop.”

Fuck—it should be my name she’s calling out. I’m unsure how I feel about the fact it’s not, but I don’t have too much time to care. She pulls me in harder, and my hands pull down the blanket as I find my way between her legs. She is so horny and ready—Maison, you Casanova.

He’s skilled at charming girls, and he barely even gets to know them. When he flashes them a smile, they toss their panties, and he does very little to earn it. Olivia’s definitely not wearing anything under that blanket, like she’s begging to be fucked by both of us.

I shift and undo the button of my jeans and finally slide them off, appreciating the release of my erection no longer constricted against the fabric. She immediately reaches for my dick as it bulges out of my boxers. Maison already has a condom on the nightstand waiting, so hopefully, he brought two.

I pause for a moment, thinking about the repercussions if she ever were to find out. Would she even care? She’s begging me right now so this can’t possibly be non-consent, can it? She looked directly at me when she walked over to us. She can play games all she wants, but she knew exactly who I fucking was—twin thing or otherwise.

She watches me carefully, the flush of her cheeks, the flash of her eyes, the recognition in them.

This bitch came to this party for us—she came for me. They always chase me until they realize how complicated I am. But if she saw the game tonight, she knows exactly who I am, since I beat the shit out of her ex-boyfriend. If I really put up a fight and wanted her attention, I bet it would be my name moaning out of her mouth right now instead of my brother’s. There is no way she’d be saying no to me, but I need to be sure.

“Are you sure about this, baby?” I ask her. “It’s not too fast?” Seems like a sappy thing Maison would say.

She reaches for my boxers and yanks them down, then opens the blanket, letting me in. She gives me those bedroom eyes I saw her give Maison earlier.

“Yes, I’m sure,” she whispers. “Get that dick out, Maison, and fuck me.”

I slip the condom on and crawl on top of her sexy body. She spreads her legs for me, and I don’t overthink it. I slide my dick in her and fuck her hard and quick and say as little as I can while she moans Maison’s name the entire time. But fuck it, it gives me the release I needed and craved tonight, and I don’t have to deal with any bullshit after either.

It doesn’t take me too long to finish. I could have kept going for hours, but that would piss Maison off. When I’m done, we lay panting next to each other and I slam down my drink, which gives me a good excuse to leave as she tries to cuddle.

Sorry, sweetheart. You’re going to have to handle round two now.

I put my clothes back on and slip away, heading back downstairs, seeing Maison still in the kitchen chatting with Serena, hopefully pretending to be me. We make eye contact as I walk out the door, feeling a thousand times lighter than I felt walking in.

Thanks, Maison—that was exactly what I needed.

Chapter Two

She was supposed to be a one-night stand.

This chick lives thirty minutes away in a completely different county. She has her own school, her own people, her own town, but apparently, very few friends because she’s been at my house every day since we both fucked her two weeks earlier. Apparently, she and Maison really connected that night, and now she spends nearly every waking moment with him like they are a fucking couple. She just drives up every day in her shitty Honda Civic.

Typical Maison—acting as if what we did wasn’t utterly messed up and probably illegal, but Maison is smitten with Olivia and he and I haven’t talked about what happened or what he let me do. He hasn’t brought it up, and like fuck I will either.

When they are around, I usually hide downstairs in our gym and remember how I’m not even emotionally capable of being with a girl like her, or any girl. Because it’s not like Naomi hasn’t made it clear that she’d rather date me over Ezra. I could date her in a heartbeat if I wanted to. It’s a good excuse to train for the upcoming season and when I’m not training in the gym, I’m at the rink … practicing. Working out and slicing pucks helps me keep my head clear and my parents off my back for taking myself off medication. People who have this condition have nightmares … and I just don’t fucking sleep.

As soon as I turned eighteen last spring, I got off the meds because it’s my body and my choice, even if my parents hate me for it. What happened to me was eight years ago, and somehow, I have to figure out a way to get over it. I wasn’t unconscious for it like Maison was—I can’t just block it out like he can.

I’m sick of feeling sorry for myself. This is going to be my year, so I have to forget what I did with Olivia and keep myself focused. I barely fucked her the way I wanted, and she could have taken more of me. Forgetting how amazing her pussy felt is easier said than done. When I walk upstairs after my workout, she is roaming around like a lost puppy dog in the kitchen looking for my twin—who’s not even here. He went to the lake with Ezra, which means he’s there with Naomi and Serena, probably misbehaving as he usually does when he’s with them. Two weeks is usually his max with girlfriends, and Olivia’s about to hit her expiration date.

I slip past her as she sits on top of the granite kitchen island, combing her fingers through her hair, with her sexy legs crossed in front of her. “He’s not here,” I mumble as our eyes meet and I immediately look down at my phone, avoiding eye contact before she can give a response. I’m worried if she looks me in the eye, somehow, she will know what I did. That she’ll truly recognize me.

I feel her gaze on me as she hops off the island and shifts over to the fridge. “Is it okay if I get a drink while I wait for him?”

I keep my voice neutral even though my dick hardens at the sight of her leaning up with her back toward me, grabbing a glass. “Help yourself,” I tell her.