“Do it,” I order her, my tone like gravel even to my own ears. Her tongue juts out, wetting her plump bottom lip at the same time her soft little hand wraps around my dick, and she strokes, working my length. I groan at how good she feels around me.
My chest tightens when she drops to her knees before me. With her gaze glued to mine, she takes me in her mouth, and my breath gets caught in my throat. Those plump bee-stung lips wrap around my head as she sucks me, her cheeks hollowing, her tongue licking the underside of my shaft, driving me fucking crazy. Pleasure courses down my spine at the feel of her warm, wet mouth fucking me. I bury one of my hands in her hair, gripping the strands for support as I guide her mouth on me, bobbing her head on my cock exactly how I want her. A curtain of hair falls into her face, shielding her expression from view, but her eyes. Fuck, those eyes. They’re screaming fuck me.
When my cock hits the back of her throat, I let out a groan of approval, and the muscles in my thighs bunch from the effort it’s taking not to drive into her mouth at full force. Suddenly feeling the need to release all of today’s mess, I grip her by the shoulders and lift her. She moans in protest when my cock falls free. I toss her onto the bed, a little more aggressively than I intended, but by the flare of arousal I see in her eyes, it’s obvious she likes it. She strips out of her clothes, and I flip her onto her stomach, shoving her down and lifting her ass. My hand cracks down on one of the round and curvy globes of her ass, and she groans into the sheets.
Her pussy is drenched, those perfect pink lips dripping with her arousal, begging me to fuck her. My girl didn’t even need foreplay; that’s how bad she wants it. Not wasting any more time, I dig my fingertips into her hips for support and slam into her from behind, balls deep. Gripping a fistful of that beautiful blond hair, I tug her head back, watching as her back arches beautifully. I pump inside her; my eyes riveted to my cock disappearing in and out of her, drenched in her juices. The sound of smacking flesh and her arousal echo around us, and I relish in it. In her.
Her walls start to tighten around my cock with each stroke, gripping onto me for dear life, and her moans grow louder, bouncing off the walls of the bedroom.
“That’s right, Dirty Girl. Come all over my cock. Just like that.” Her backside puckers with the force of her orgasm, and she lets out a scream of pleasure into the sheets. Lifting her hips higher, I change the angle and fuck her until I can’t keep going. That’s exactly where I stay the rest of the night, rooted deep inside her.
As we lie there, both finally able to catch our breath, I wait for her to fall asleep. I expect her to. Hell, after what happened today, I need her to fall asleep, so I can fucking think straight. But I’m not at all surprised when she snuggles into me, as if she’s looking for support. Her next words are a shock to my system.
“She talks to me.”
My brows tug down, and my heart lurches. I have an inkling of who she is. “Who does?”
There’s a long pause. So long, I don’t think she’s going to answer me, but she does.
“Madison.”
My mouth opens to say something, but nothing intelligible comes out. I don’t know how to respond to that. I don’t know how to feel about that.
“You think I’m crazy, don’t you?” she whispers, her voice tinged with sadness. I shake my head, blowing out a heavy sigh and pulling her closer.
“I don’t.”
“Sometimes it feels like it. She comes and goes as she pleases, but my mind always tries to rationalize it. She’s dead. How can she be in one place, standing at the foot of my bed, when I know she’s not really there?”
I press my lips together, deciding to delve deeper into whatever this connection is she has to her sister. “What does she…say to you?”
“Everything and nothing.”
“Is she here now?”
I feel her stiffen in my arms, and she jerks up, glaring down at me. “You’re making fun of me.”
I do my best to hide my smirk at the angry expression shrouding her face. “I’m not. I’m simply asking a question because I’m curious.”
“Well, no. She’s not,” she says dryly. I pull her back down onto my chest, and she surprisingly comes willingly, falling back into me like she didn’t just reveal a deep, dark secret.
“Sometimes, I think I still hear her because we were twins. I wonder if our bond was so strong that I can still hear her even in death? Then there are other times when I wonder if it’s all me, just in my head. I don’t want to believe I’m imagining it—imagining her.”
“Deep down, what does it feel like?”
She’s quiet. Too quiet. “It feels real.”
I hum, the sound vibrating in my chest, beneath her head, and she sighs. “You don’t believe me, do you?”
I pause, careful with how to respond. It’s not that I don’t believe her. I just don’t have any of the answers she’s searching for. “I believe that you believe it.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“Mackenzie, I don’t believe in stuff like that. I never have. That doesn’t mean I don’t believe you’re telling the truth. It doesn’t mean it isn’t really happening.”
She remains silent, as she mulls over my words. I mean them. I don’t think she’s crazy because she has conversations with her sister. I’ll never know the pain of losing a sibling, let alone the pain of losing a twin. I can’t fathom what she feels inside.
“If she were still alive, do you think we would’ve ever crossed paths with each other? I know you believe it was all planned from the start, but it wasn’t. The first night with you, in the restaurant, it was pure luck I ran into you. I hadn’t talked to my mom on the phone in years, and when she called me, I couldn’t think straight. I was headed to dinner with my friends that night, and then when I met you…everything changed.”
I’ve thought about this quite a bit. Always wondered how she planned our first meeting so seamlessly. How she knew to walk in there at that exact time. Hell, the dinner was spontaneous. After a business meeting that ran longer than expected, I wanted to eat by myself. What would’ve happened if that business meeting ended earlier, and I never had dinner there that night?
“I don’t know. We might’ve crossed paths eventually, but I’m sure things between us would’ve been a lot different. I didn’t know your sister well enough to imagine what her future would’ve been like had that night never happened. I had a few conversations with her over the years.” I swallow, not sure how she’ll react to this information. “And one on the night she died. Before I left.”
Mackenzie shifts in my arms. I expect her to push away and glare up at me, but she doesn’t do that. Instead, she rests her chin on my chest, all ears. I search her gaze for any lingering remnants of anger or betrayal, but there are none. She just wants to hear whatever it is I have to say. I get the feeling that, sometimes, Mackenzie just wants to talk about her sister because she misses her. Instead of missing her on her own and keeping her emotions locked inside, this gives her a chance to share it with me. And I can respect that.
Blowing out a sigh, I recount that night. “I noticed you that night. Didn’t put it together until much later.”