“Tell me more,” he urged, a challenge in his eyes.
I held his stare, diving in as I leaned against the wall, eyeing him. “I’d suck him off in the morning,” I told him, keeping my voice low and steady, “taking him down my throat and getting him so hard, so I could ride his dick before school.”
“Yeah?” Michael egged me on, a fire starting to burn in his eyes as he lifted the glass again. “Keep going.”
I leaned my head back again, opening my mouth for the sip.
Swallowing it, I continued, softening my voice, “He’d make me come so good,” I cooed. “His hands were all over my body, squeezing my tits as he bent me over the couch while your mother was in the next room.” I hooded my eyes, seeing his gaze drop to my mouth as I licked my lips. “He had to put his hand over my mouth when I came, because it was so fucking hot I couldn’t stop screaming.”
“Mmm…” He responded, tipping up the glass again to feed me more and then setting it down.
“And his dick is built for my ass,” I went on, curling the corner of my lips and playing with him. “When he slides it in, he owns me.”
“Is that right?” Michael asked lightly, thinning his eyelids and wrapping one arm around my waist, holding my face with the other. “Tell me more.” His breath fell across my lips. “I want to know everything my brother doesn’t do to you, you little liar.”
My chest shook with having him so close. I could almost taste his mouth. I parted my lips, feeling him hover, feeling him about to take his bite, and I fucking craved it.
Michael.
“After he comes,” he whispered, “and after he leaves you, leaves you wanting more and wanting everything you know only I can give you”—he snatched up my bottom lip between his teeth and let go—“is it my cock you think of when you slide those fingers in your *?”
I groaned, a rush of warmth hitting between my thighs, and my clit throbbed so hard, I had to be wet.
“Sometimes,” I admitted in a whisper, forcing myself to hold his eyes.
He cocked his head. “Sometimes?”
I nodded.
His glare hardened, and I knew he felt challenged.
My heart raced, beating faster and faster, and I didn’t know if my gamble was a huge mistake.
I only ever thought of him. Every fantasy, every orgasm…
Every time I was alone and touched myself, I only ever pictured him, his gorgeous eyes and body pinning me to a bed.
Or to a couch, a table, or the floor. It was always Michael.
But he had gotten my attention for far too long, and it was time for him to get jerked around. He wanted to play? I could play.
“Why did you lie to Jake?” he asked, suddenly changing the subject. “You watched the games in high school. You were at every one of my games.”
I tensed. “You knew that?”
I couldn’t believe he knew I attended every game. Even when he was in high school and I was still in junior high, I tagged along with Mrs. Crist, never missing a game until he went off to college.
“Why did you lie?”
I opened my mouth, searching for words. “I didn’t,” I finally forced out. “I said I never watched the games, and that was true. I just…” I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked back up at him, dropping my voice to a whisper. “I just watched you.”
He held my eyes, his expression hardening. His breathing sped up, and his rich scent flooded my head as I closed my eyes.
“Rika,” he whispered, sounding desperate as he grazed my bottom lip with the tip of his tongue.
Tingles spread over my face, and I felt higher than I ever had.
“When you think about me…‘sometimes,’” he added with amusement in his tone—he knew I was lying—“show me what you do to yourself.”
I blinked my eyes open, looking at the heat in his eyes. My nervous heart pounded harder, but I fought to restrain my excitement, too.
I’d never done that in front of anyone, and I hesitated, worrying about all the other women he’d had. How experienced they were, and if he’d snicker and laugh at what I had…
And then I heard Michael in my head from what seemed like ages ago, in a dark room, the first time he got close…
Own it. Don’t apologize for who you are. Own it. You can’t win if you don’t show up, right?
I held his eyes, intense and not blinking, as I slid my hand down into my bikini, and between my thighs.
Michael ran a hand over the left side of my neck, and I faltered, not used to having anyone touch me there.
But he didn’t seem to notice anything. He continued, threading it under my hair, holding me as his eyes dropped and he watched me move my fingers inside my black swimsuit.
His chest rose and fell quicker, and his hard gaze stayed trained on my hand as I circled my clit with two fingers.
My * started throbbing harder, and I whimpered, my insides flooding with heat as he watched me play.
“Take them off,” he breathed out, eyes never leaving my hand.
I shook my head.
“Do it.” He shook me, and I gasped.