I knew the feeling.
Love could be lost. You could grieve it, heal from it, and move on.
I’d never be able to do that with Reese.
“I know what you mean. That’s all that matters.” I brought one of his hands to my mouth and kissed his fingertips.
He shuddered and buried his face in my neck, and then he pulled out a little and pushed in again. The pain flared up intensely, but so did the thought reminding me that it was my twin brother who was fucking me.
“I’m not gonna last,” he repeated, voice strained. “I’m sorry.”
I shook my head and pushed back against him, no matter how much it hurt, because his pleasure meant more. “Let go. I want you to come in me, baby brother.”
“Jesus.” He groaned loudly, fucking me harder, triggered by the words.
He took me instinctively, with one painful grip on my hip and his other hand clawing at my chest. And I absorbed the pain; I fucking reveled in it, all while thinking…my twin brother is coming in me, my twin brother is fucking me, my twin brother is shooting his come in my ass. If the fire hadn’t burned so hot, I would’ve gotten hard again.
“Fuck,” I breathed, feeling his cock throb inside me.
“Oh my God…” He panted against my neck. “I’m fuckin’ shaking.”
I could feel that. And it suddenly felt like we were in the wrong place. I wanted us in bed, under the covers, where I could get my arms around him.
While we were at it, I wanted us to be at home—in Virginia Beach.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said quietly.
He nodded and kissed my shoulder.* * *“I just feel so damn relieved,” he whispered.
I hummed and grazed my fingers up and down his arm. “Me too.”
This was probably my new favorite way to fall asleep, with his head on my chest and our fingers wandering. He was brushing his own fingers along my happy trail.
That relief kept flowing through us.
We were finally on the same page, and if we had our way, we’d never leave it.
I shouldn’t have been surprised to learn that we’d developed these newer feelings at the same time. We’d shared the same confusion, similar dreams, forbidden fantasies, guilt, anger, and insecurities.
Reese had insisted on making me something to eat as soon as we got back to Pop’s house, and once my brother had taken his spot at the stove to prepare bacon and eggs, his mouth had been running. He’d confessed his worries about letting our family down, about going back and forth with anger and guilt regarding his feelings, about what I’d think, about the future, about dating, about everything.
The only decision we’d made together while we’d eaten was the one that mattered. From now on, it was us. We’d face life together, side by side, no matter what it might look like. We didn’t wanna be separated. We didn’t wanna care about what others thought—not that we’d advertise what we did behind closed doors, but that was the deal. Even with dating in the future. We’d handle that as a unit when we were ready. Like a couple, even. Except, neither of us liked that term. With the way we felt, it was more like two halves coming together to make a whole.
I yawned and placed my other arm under my head.
I’d never felt this peaceful before. Ever. Even if my ass felt raw.
Reese stretched out and groaned, and he tilted his head up.
I dipped down and captured his lips with mine.
“I still wanna put it into words,” he murmured.
“We’ll just have our own meaning.” I pecked him softly a couple more times before tucking him tightly in my arms. Covers drawn up. “I love you means…just more.” I racked my brain for the right comparison. “You’re my oxygen.”
He sighed contentedly and gave me a squeeze. “Ditto.” He dropped a kiss to my chest. “I think I’m gonna have to learn how to play the guitar or something, ’cause there needs to be a cheesy song in the world about you being the air that I breathe.”
I rumbled a laugh and hugged him to me. “As fitting as those words are, I’ll pay you not to sing about it.”
He chuckled. “Hater. I bet I’d be great at writing love songs.”
Oh boy.
His hand came up, barely visible in the dark, and he started ticking things off on his fingers. “Just think about all the romantic shit I would say. Like, your ass is so fuckin’ tight. I can’t wait for you to come in me tonight—hey, that rhymed! I see the Grand Ole Opry in my future.”
“For fuck’s sake,” I laughed. “Get some sleep. You’re delusional.”
A yawn cut his amusement short. “Fine. More of my excellent song writing tomorrow.”
“Uh-huh. Can’t wait.” I kissed the top of his head. “Night, brother.”