Kendall Vs. Twins

I'll let him know when he's less pissed about last night. But if the girl he's all hankering after has the same sexy curves and sassy mouth as the one I just met, sign me up as a believer in a monk's life. Because she's enough to make any man go celibate for the rest of his life just for one sensational night licking, caressing, ramming every last inch of her.

A girl like that though, you don't just wanna slam into and give her the best fucking night of her life. One she won't ever forget. One that will last longer than the week she won't walk straight. A girl like that you want to take into your arms and hold her there while you kiss her forehead, her nose, her lips. Only when she's relaxed into your hold do you work down her neck and across her chest to take each tight bud into your mouth.

I'm not becoming some sentimental dick. I'll leave all that romance shit to Hunter. It's just that this girl, I know exactly what I want to do to her and I've got the weekend to make that happen. And I'm pretty sure that this is a woman I'll be glad not to share with my brother.

5

Kendall

Perfect body? That's something I've never thought of as having. I can't stop smiling inside that he said that, even if he is a cocky ass.

When we're finally allowed to go for the lunch break, I don't see Rhino anywhere. I mean, not that I'm looking for him or anything like that. I'm really curious though about what he's doing here. Clearly known by our trainer, perhaps he owns the company that runs the sky-diving weekends. But I do know he doesn't ruin his body with eating any more than stolen half donuts, what with it being completely on display in that skin tight suit.

My cheeks are suddenly hot with the memory of his hot breath on my ear, his solid chest lightly grazing my back. And then that filthy grin as he walked away, the perfect ass cheeks, high and round flexing the stretchy material of his suit. When he turned to throw me one last glance, I couldn't help but flick down and connect with the bulge at his thighs. It was beyond large. Even massive wouldn't do it justice. No doubt in a suit like that, he was wearing some kind of sports jock and probably a bunch of porn star padding to build his already robust ego.

I hate men like that. So cocksure and full of themselves and strutting around like peacocks. Although if he does own this place, he's entitled to I guess. It doesn't mean I'm going to get all giddy gaga over him. Because he's absolutely not my type at all.

“Hey, Movie Star,” Sarge's brusque voice at my side jolts me out of my dream world. “You up for the challenge this afternoon?”

“Yes of course,” I insist. “I'm not good with heights to be honest but -”

“No excuses. You'll never make the Force if you allow your night sweats to get in the way.”

I open my mouth to tell him I have no intention of 'making the Force' but clearly this dude is operating under some delusion of the past where he's back in his glory days.

“May the Force be with you,” I mutter, under my breath.

Beside me, there's a sudden rash of ooohs and ahhhs. I'm sitting on the edge of the 'weekend' girly group because it was the only choice between that or at a picnic table totally alone. The couples are hanging out one-on-one, like their bonding depends on no one else breaking the spell. Not that I want to be a third wheel for a lovey pair that are busy making memories.

I don't need another reminder that I'm seriously uncoupled. I get enough of that from my friends. It seems like as we rush headlong toward thirty like bullet trains on a suicide mission. Everyone I know is magically meeting the love of their life. Carla, Kim, Alicia. Three of my besties have settled into forever in the last little wh

ile. And me – well I'm not sulking, but sometimes it seems like the well has run completely dry.

“Ohmigod, that'll be us tomorrow,” one of the girls beside me squeals.

I tip my head up to the clouds, following the set of upturned heads. Although there isn't a single one and the sky is an impossible shade of clear bright blue. And ruining the pristine beauty is a blaze of red smoke trailing downward like a plane is plummeting out of the sky. A plunging object emerges out of the smoke fog, and it isn't a plane, its a circle. A circle of people coming closer to earth.

They form a tight ring, heading straight at each other, until they reach out and grab hands. Then they pull on their connection and create a perfect circle, all except one that appears higher up in the sky as the smoke clears away. A red dot on the blue background, it suddenly points downward and dives like a bomb released from its housing.

There's a gasp at every table, we're all stretching straight up to the sky to watch the figure plummet, arms pointed above his head as he dives for the joined circle. I'm so spellbound I forget to hunt my phone out of my purse to catch this for Insta. He reaches the group and a hold breaks in the circle. The union is broken until the figure flies in, catches the loose hands and pulls it back in. The red circle is blurred as it hurtles through the air and we all sit faces agog and breath held locked in our chests.

Nothing can save them now, they're so close to the ground. My heart is beating a hole through my chest so fitfully, it's painful. And then, at the last moment we all thought had flown past, a slew of red parachutes unfurl against the sky.

Twenty minutes later, he's here. They all are, a coven of red devils swarming between us, grabbing drinks and food. They're lit up with adrenaline, chattering too fast. They settle at their own table. Only one woman in the swarm of guys.

He's among them but he stands out like a sore thumb and I know for sure he was the dive bomber. My certainty is confirmed when Sarge slaps him across the back in congratulation. When Rhino's eyes snatch mine up, I try to look away but he holds me transfixed. That same filthy smile is all over his features, now with an even more arrogant slant.

He's not traditionally handsome, with the cut jaw and wide cheekbones of the best looking guys in the city. But Rhino has a presence that's more powerful than GQ good looks. I can't stop looking at him. I can't stop imagining the things I know he's capable of doing to my body.

I can clearly picture those lithe hips inserting themselves between my thighs to pull my shirt up over my tits and then lick at the hard nipples. Nipping and sucking until I clap my hands around his head to haul him toward me with breathless hunger.

I know he'd flip me over, to bend me across the picnic table, no reticence allowed as he yanks my jeans and panties down in one go before burying that huge pole into me. The ecstasy of stretching and pushing at every inch of my inner walls until I feel I'm going to come apart with the force of him.

It would be so delicious to be filled by that wild man. He's got 'untamed' and 'don't-even-try' written on every cell but still, that somehow makes him all the more enticing. Heat pours out of him even from across the grassy area we're lunching at. So intense my body feels like its in flames.

The skydive team are set apart, laughing and shouting with high energy from flying through the air untrammeled. Their vitality blunts the rest of us so we look dull and rigid in comparison. My eyes are dragged across to them against my will. And every time my heart lifts like a coiled spring when I see Rhino's eyes are fixed on me, even as he talks over the others, clearly the leader of the group.

Except for when the guy two down from him is speaking. He's also wearing the red jumpsuit they all have on. And his biceps are more rounded, swelling against the fabric. And I notice that he also is looking right at me with an intense gaze.