Chuckling, I turn around, about to open the door and head back, when a small body bumps into mine. I look down and see Daria.
Her eyes widen, and her mouth falls open.
“What’s your ass doing on this side of the house?” I demand, continuing my perfect strike of stupidity/creep behavior for the evening. She lives here. I’m the one who was supposed to stay away tonight. But Daria is always a tad disoriented when we see each other, something that brings my ego and cock much delight.
“We keep the ice here, and some loser punched a wall trying to win a bet.” She rolls her eyes in full-blown cheerleader mode.
I grab her by the collar of her dress and pull her into the pool house, shutting the door behind us.
“I…” she begins, and I bite her lower lip like a savage. Hard and out of nowhere.
“Shhh,” I snarl. “We’ve got company, my hideous little monster.”
Still engulfed in complete darkness, I turn her body around and rest my chin on top of her head, pointing at the glass wall of the bedroom. We can only see their silhouettes, but their positions are clear. There’s a guy bracing his arm against the wall, thrusting himself into the mouth of a chick beneath him. He is fucking her mouth ruthlessly, one hand bracketing her head. A whimper escapes Daria’s throat, and my cock jerks in my jeans. It’s been too long since I’ve been inside her.
“Ever went down on anyone?” I lean down, my lips feathering over her shoulder blade. I grab her by the waist and pull her back into my body, my hard cock pressing against her back through our clothes. Damn height difference. I don’t know why I ask this. Getting an honest truth I’m not fond of might send me on a rampage. A criminal record is the last thing my ass needs, but if I find out Principal Prichard has been getting blowies from Daria, I just might slice him up into tiny pieces and fry him up for breakfast.
Hey, athletes can never get enough lean protein.
She inhales sharply but doesn’t answer.
My fingers travel along her inner thigh from behind, my teeth grazing her ear as I travel upward, toward her panties, then tug them aside.
“Answer me.”
She gasps when I pinch her clit, so I do it again. I’m so hard I’m about to burst all over her dress, something I’m sure my preppy princess wouldn’t appreciate. Her head rolls back on my shoulder when I start fucking her with my index and middle finger, swirling her clit with my thumb. My other hand is working her nipple through her dress.
“All my firsts,” she chokes out brokenly. “You stole all of them.”
“That’s my girl. Look at them,” I hiss, my voice so husky and gruff, I barely recognize it. “Take notes, Skull Eyes. This’ll be us tomorrow.”
She refocuses on the couple in front of us going at it. His thrusts become jerkier and faster, and he groans. Daria cups my dick from behind and squeezes, and I close my eyes.
Don’t come. Don’t come. Don’t come.
Outside, people breeze through the pool house. They’re talking and laughing and yelling and living their mediocre, average existence. The place is clearing out, but there are still some assholes milling around, refusing to leave. Including the couple in front of us, who are not about to appreciate the audience when they’re done milking an orgasm from this guy’s dick.
“Coming,” the dude jeers, his voice laced with venomous boredom.
I can practically envision Daria’s eyes widen when she hears his familiar tenor and have to work her extra fast to keep her in the pre-orgasm zone.
It’s Vaughn.
“Not on my face this time,” the girl purrs, giggling with her mouth full of him.
Daria groans. “Esme.”
I quickly move my spare hand from her chest to cover her mouth in case she’s in the mood for a confrontation.
Personally, I don’t give two shits about who they are. I just know they made my balls tighten, and now I need an outlet. Vaughn pulls out of Esme’s mouth and tugs her hair, tilting her head up and coming all over her neck and tits through her dress. I swear at this moment I nearly shove my whole fist into Daria, and she comes so hard, she yells my name, biting my palm where there’s still a cut from my blood oath with Via.
Count on Daria to kill any good intention I have with my flakey, fake sister.
Esme snaps her head toward us while Vaughn is still pumping his jizz lazily into the crack between her tits, and without thinking, I grab Daria’s hand and sneak her out before they can see our faces. My hand is dripping blood between us on her manicured lawn.
“Crap.” She runs across her backyard with me. Her heels are digging into the moist earth, slowing her down, and I tug on her hand, not in the mood for ASH assholes to see the Las Juntas rat crashing their precious party.
“What if they saw us?” she wheezes.
“They’re the ones caught with his dick in Esme’s mouth. Let them figure it out.” I round her house and bend her under the kitchen window that’s facing a wrought-iron gate and high bushes. No one can see us here.
“Where have you been tonight?” The accusation in her voice is harsh. I was visiting Adriana and Harper, but it’s Daria’s birthday party, and I’m not about to shit all over her night. I pull her between my thighs, cupping her ass.
“Missed me?” I use my thumb to wipe my blood along her lower lip. She licks it without hesitation, her eyes on me.
“Answer my question, Penn.”
“I got you a birthday present.”
“A blood oath with your sister?” Her gaze drops to my hand.
A perceptive little thing, she is. I don’t think people give Daria the credit she deserves. She could’ve found Bin Laden in a week had she been given enough Red Bull and good internet service. I’m still not sure how I feel about Via. I don’t buy her good girl charade, and the more time that passes, the more I realize maybe I loved her just because someone had to. Because our mother didn’t. When Via was being her real self, I could at least relate to her anger. I felt it, too. This Brady Bunch version, though? Straight up made of cardboard and fake glitter.
“Turn around.” I change the subject.
“That seems to be your favorite position of me.” Daria sighs, still spinning in place. She is wrong. I can look at her face all fucking day. I wish it were a legit job so I could make money doing it. I would put in all the extra hours and become a billionaire within a year.
(The math doesn’t add up, by the way, so don’t try to do it.)
I collect her blond locks and let them fall on her right shoulder, then kiss her nape. I produce the sea glass necklace from my pocket and put it on her.
She gasps when the orange sea glass hits her delicate rib cage, and her chest caves.
Daria twists back to me with tears in her eyes. I can’t bear her vulnerability because it seems real, and I can’t think of her as real. Even if she is genuine, this can never work out. Even if I don’t give a damn about what Jaime and Mel think, Daria does although she would die denying it. And her parents will never be okay with us being together. Not to mention the hell Via is going to give me. But before all of this can even materialize, there is also the Adriana and Principal Prichard mess to sort out, and nothing promises me that Daria won’t get cold feet about telling her precious rich friends she’s dating the token charity case.