The Boys Next Door Ch. 01

*****

At eight-thirty that evening, the last guest left the house next door, staggering down the front walk and shouting some joke over his shoulder. Diana had been pacing her own empty house for the past half-hour, listening to soothing music that was doing nothing to calm her down, and arguing with herself about whether to take Brendan's invitation. He'd just asked her over because he felt sorry for her. He'd probably forgotten all about it. And—

Fuck it. She twisted the radio dial to the rock station, cranked up the volume, and swung open the door to her parents' liquor cabinet for a shot of liquid courage. Rum? Gin? Frangelico? She had no idea which one to choose. She'd never tried more than a sip of wine. But time was ticking, so she did her best to toss back a shot of vodka, spent most of the next minute bent over coughing, then went upstairs to put on her swimsuit, a sundress over it, and just enough makeup to look like she'd tried a little but not a lot.

As Diana walked up the path to the house next door, tingling warmth spread through her arms and legs. She was starting to feel more relaxed. The door opened, and she caught the cleft in Brendan's chin, relieved that the right twin had answered the door. Then she sucked in her breath as he bent to kiss her cheek. He was still just wearing his swim trunks, and she realized too late that she was staring at his rippling muscles.

"You came." He smiled at her, walking her into the kitchen with a hand on her back. Her heartbeat accelerated. Oh yes, she had, just a few hours ago. Suddenly she wondered if Brendan could smell her pussy on her fingers, and instead of being terrified, her stomach curled with arousal. A little part of her hoped he could. He was standing much closer than he needed to. "I was about to go over there and get you myself. Beer?"

Party leftovers littered the long kitchen. Diana blinked at the bags of chips spilling out, the bottles everywhere, the open jars of salsa, the melting ice. "I— sure. I've never tried it."

He opened a bottle from the cooler, handed it to her with a smile, and guided her to the backyard. There was no way he could know what his hand at the small of her back was doing to her. She tried to breathe normally as his thumb stroked her through her light dress, right above the waistband of her swimsuit bottoms. At least that stupid shot of vodka was helping. Her legs weren't shaking now, even though her crotch was already damp again.

"Make yourself comfortable," he said softly. Was that a joke? She couldn't be farther from comfortable right now. "Feel free to swim. I'm going to do some cleanup, but I'll be down soon."

What? Diana stared at his back as he walked away, outlined against the setting sun. This was what she'd been afraid of. Maybe she hadn't passed the fun test. Should she have kissed Brendan when he met her at the door? She had no idea what the hell to do. At least he'd stranded her in an empty backyard, with only the chirping crickets and the darkening sky for company, instead of in the middle of a big party. Sighing, she sipped the bitter bubbly drink in her hand, just to have something to do. But as the bottle got lighter in her hand, she began to relax again, leaning back in the chaise longue.

Years had passed since she'd set foot in this backyard, but she still knew it so well. There was the long pool in the middle where she'd tried to hold her own in water fights with the twins, the crisscrossing lights strung up over the patio that had held birthday parties, the darkness at the back of the yard where clumps of trees made tall shapes against the deepening night sky, and, buried in those trees, the treehouse the twins' dad had built for them ten years ago. She remembered the "no girls allowed" sign Ian had posted on the treehouse, and the way Brendan had tried to convince him to take it down.

It felt good to be back. Safe, really. Comforting. Relaxing. It was probably better that Brendan had left her alone. And the pool looked so inviting.

She stood up, set the empty beer bottle on the patio table, laid her glasses down next to it, and pulled her dress over her head. More warmth spread through her body, curling out from her stomach in the most relaxing way. Kicking off her flip flops, she strolled to the edge of the pool and jumped in, not with a sleek dive, but a kid's belly flop. Ooohh — that stung. In a good way. The pool was pleasantly warm, still holding the heat from the day, and she swam a slow lap, enjoying the way the water caressed her body and flowed over her curves, washing away the stress of finals and all of senior year. Her head felt so buzzy and relaxed now. Brendan had been right — she should celebrate after four years of hard work, or at least take it easy for a little while. Her whole body was tingling. Her limbs felt a little heavier, but she could still move easily through the water. On the second lap, she rolled onto her back and floated. The sun had set completely now, leaving the sky dark and salted with stars, with the only light in the yard coming from the lanterns over the patio.

Suddenly, whining chords split the quiet air. A cymbal crash made her splutter and kick. Water streamed into her eyes as someone cranked up the growling music even higher and jumped into the pool with an enormous splash. A sleek body, outlined in the darkness, sent water arcing up, moving swiftly past her with powerful strokes.

"Brendan...?" she asked.

"Ian," he said briefly over his shoulder, and sped towards the end of the pool.

Diana groaned. Why did Ian have to show up and ruin her relaxation? And where was Brendan? The kitchen had been messy, but not that messy. Maybe he was avoiding her, figuring he'd fulfilled his social charity work by planting a couple of pity smooches on her and inviting her over to swim. She tried to ignore Ian as he whooshed past her the other way — he'd always been a fast swimmer — but he was noisy in the water, and the pounding bass vibrated through the pool. As he streaked past her on one lap, then another, it became obvious: he was crowding her, forcing her to move closer and closer to the side of the pool until she barely had room to swim.

Prickling with irritation, she turned abruptly and cut across his path. A hand grabbed her ankle, and she gasped. She could have sworn Ian was on the other side of the pool.

"What are you doing?" she hissed when he surfaced, his fingers still wrapped around her ankle. It was completely disconcerting, even in the near-dark, to be looking into the same handsome face that had leaned in to kiss her a few hours ago — the same deep dimples, white teeth, and bright hazel eyes. This was definitely Ian, though. Freckle aside, Brendan's lips would never be twisted in that mocking half-grin, while she'd been seeing that superior smile on Ian's face for as long as she could remember. That is, until he stopped smiling at her at all. Water dripped off his face, and his brown hair was slicked back from swimming. With a jolt, she realized she was too annoyed to be paralyzed with shyness.

"This is my lane," he said smugly. As she kicked, he let go suddenly, only to grasp her waist. Diana couldn't help remembering the time Ian had dunked her at the twins' ninth birthday party — twice — and more irritation surged through her. Without thinking, she grabbed his broad shoulders so he couldn't push her under.

"You're crowding me. You did it on purpose." And he was crowding her now, closer even than Brendan had been in her bedroom. His breath was hot on her cheek.

"Nah. You're just blind without those stupid glasses on."

"I can see you just fine," she snapped. "And I wish I couldn't. You're polluting my view. And my eardrums."

"You're in my pool." She could barely see the smirk on his face, but she could definitely hear it in his voice over the waves of music reverberating through the backyard.

"Brendan invited me." And where the hell was he? "And now I'm drowning in obnoxious punk." Too pissed to be scared, she glared at him. "And so's the whole neighborhood. You're going to get a noise citation."

"Ooooh, a noise citation," he mimicked. "Worst thing that's ever happened to me. I'm so scared. But not as scared as you are, goody-two-shoes who's never broken a rule."

"How do you know?" she snapped. "You haven't talked to me in, oh, six or seven years."

"I don't have to. It's written all over your librarian-on-crack clothes, and your perfect fucking resume that my mom brings up all the time, and the way you walk around like a buttoned-up ice princess who's better than everyone else. And you haven't talked to me, either."

Diana could only stare at him. Her whole body was hot now. Why did he have to be squeezing her waist like his hands had every right to be there, and why wasn't she telling him to let go? His broad shoulders were smooth under her palms, and so muscular. "I don't think I'm better than everyone else." Her voice dropped. Ian was staring at her, his face much too close to hers. They'd kicked their way out to the middle of the pool, and she felt completely defenseless.

"Did you like it when my brother kissed you?" His voice was low now, too.

Heat rushed to her cheeks. "He told you?"

"We don't have any secrets from each other." Ian's mouth was so close to her ear now, his lips brushed her skin. "He told me it was your first kiss." He squeezed her waist. "And you're an innocent little girl who doesn't know what to do with boys." He pushed her wet hair off her face and gave it a tug. "And you were all alone in your house, too scared to come to our party."

"Those are my secrets," she whispered, the air knocked out of her. "Not Brendan's."

"Now they're mine too." He grinned at her.

Anger and embarrassment stung her throat. Only one way with Ian, she reminded herself: fight back, fight harder. She dug her fingers into his arms, gripping them as hard as she could. "Why are you such an asshole, Ian?" she snarled.

"Why are you such an uptight little priss?"

"I'm not," she gritted between her teeth.

"Prove it."

Oh God. What was happening? She'd leaned forward — she, not Ian. As soon as her lips touched his, he pulled her closer with a low growl. Shocked, she opened her mouth to his tongue as he kissed her roughly. Her head spun. She would have gasped for breath, but Ian's tongue, hot and determined, didn't leave her any room to gasp.

Why was he doing this? Why was she doing this? And why was hot desire arrowing through her body along with fury? Confused, panting, and painfully aroused, she raked her nails down his back and bit his lower lip, hard.

"Fuck, yes," he muttered. Diana's head swam as he sucked on her neck. "I knew you had it in you."

Keeping one powerful arm around her waist, he cut through the water with the other, swimming swiftly to the far end of the pool. Diana could only hang on to his shoulders as he maneuvered her backward.

Shrouded in darkness at the back of the pool, Ian's head blocked out the pinpoints of light on the patio. Diana couldn't see his features or his expression; she could only feel the power in his body as he grabbed the rim of the pool with his right hand and engulfed her lips again. His muscled bulk pressed her firmly back against the side of the pool; her arms clung to his neck. What was going on between their mouths could only be described as making out. And — oh Jesus, his left hand was roaming all over her body, squeezing and pinching her flesh in a way that should leave her feeling completely violated but just left fire wherever he touched.

She pulled back from his thrusting tongue, gasping for breath. He didn't make it easy for her, keeping her lower lip between his teeth for a long second before he let go.

"Stop it," she hissed. "Stop making fun of me. I know you don't really want me." Her cheeks were crimson, and thank God it was too dark for Ian to see them. Her stomach turned somersaults, and her pussy ached with arousal. He was too close and it was too dark and she was too excited and angry to even think about the crushing shyness getting in the way.

In response, Ian grabbed her hand and pressed it over the hard bulge bursting through his swim trunks. Stunned and more than a little curious, Diana instinctively squeezed before she pulled her hand away. "Right," he grunted. "I don't want you. Keep thinking that."

"You're just playing with me." This couldn't be real. Her buzzing head, her heavy warm body, Ian's hand and mouth everywhere again as the water lapped around them.

"Maybe I'm just pissed Brendan got here first," Ian rasped in her ear. "Did you think about that? And either he's been lying to me, or you've been lying to him. You know what to do with a boy."

"Fuck you," she gasped. Was this conversation even happening? Was any of this happening?

"Ask nicely." In the dim light, Diana could just barely see his cocky grin. His mouth swallowed hers again, and God help her, she was actually moaning into his mouth and sucking his lower lip. His roaming hand brushed against her heavy breast, then cupped it. She cried out into his mouth. "Goddamn, your tits are incredible," he muttered. His big fingers felt much too good, kneading her voluptuous flesh, and — yes — she was pushing her hard pearl of a nipple into his palm, rubbing against his touch as they kissed.

Suddenly he pulled back, his eyes flicking upward. Diana twisted, following his gaze. Brendan stood above them by the edge of the pool, smiling happily.

"So she said yes?" he asked.

And right in front of her eyes, he skimmed his swim trunks over his hips and stepped out of them. Diana goggled. That couldn't be his thick cock, engorged and pointing toward her and barely silhouetted in the dim light. But it was, and he was lowering himself noiselessly into the pool on her right side while Ian fondled her breast from the left.

"Said yes to what?" Diana demanded. "What are you talking about? I haven't said yes to anything — oh God," she broke off with a moan. Ian was pinching her puckered nipple, rolling it between his fingers. He chuckled softly, but she could feel his pulse going faster against her arm twined around his neck, and his cock jerked against her thigh.

"Let us take care of you, Diana," Brendan whispered. He was right up against her now, cupping her chin like he was about to kiss her again. Something brushed against her leg underwater — his bare cock? "You need experience. You need to get over your shyness. We can help you." And he was smiling at her like he was suggesting something perfectly reasonable.

"We?" She stammered. "Us?"

"Me and Ian." His voice was as patient as it had been when they were kids and he was explaining the rules of a game.

"At the same time? Are you crazy?" Her head was heavy or light, she couldn't tell which. Ian was running a finger inside the top of her swimsuit bottoms, inches above her pussy, pulsing with need. "Both of you—"

"Both, or neither."

"I don't—"

"You can trust us, sweetness." Brendan nuzzled her neck. She tried to get her breath under control, but it wasn't happening. Trust them? Definitely not Ian, and she wasn't so sure about Brendan, either. "We've known each other forever. We'll make you feel so good." His voice was coaxing. Diana shuddered, water lapping her body, as Ian caressed her belly, driving the heat between her legs higher and higher.

"We used to know each other. We're different now."

"Yes and no." Leaning forward, he gave her a soft, sticky kiss. "What do you think?"

Diana turned to Ian, not trusting herself to answer. He hadn't said a word this whole time. "Say something," she said softly.

Ian's hand slid into her wet hair, wrapping it around his fingers and pulling her head back. "I want to fuck you," he murmured into her exposed ear. Shock and arousal arrowed through her body at the way he punched the work fuck. "I want to fuck you hard. I want to penetrate your tight little virgin pussy and fuck you again and again. Fast. Deep. Over and over while you plead for more."

She thought she would pass out, and Brendan was murmuring "Easy, Ian. She's never done this before," as he slipped a soothing arm around her to rub her shoulders. But she had. In her fantasies, she'd talked dirty, ridden guys on desks at school, taken one cock after another. Her whole body was shaking with lust now, her neck was being sucked and she didn't even know who was doing it, Ian's fingers were undoing the lacing on the side of her bikini bottoms, and totally of its own accord, one of her hands let go of his neck and moved through the cool water to wrap around — Jesus — a hot naked cock, hard and pulsing but unbelievably soft on the surface.

"Mmmm, yeahhhhh," Brendan groaned by her ear. He groaned, she thought, shocked. She'd made a guy groan! "That's so good, Di."

Oh God. She was dizzy, her breasts begged to be squeezed again, her pussy needed to be filled. Two gorgeous guys she'd known since she was a kid were promising her things she'd only imagined. There had to be some catch, but fuck it, who cared.

"Yes," she panted. "Yes, yes, I want to."

Water rushed against her bare pussy, lapping her sensitive lips, as her unlaced bikini bottoms were pulled from between her legs. Light touches on the tops of her breasts made her shiver, goose bumping in the night air: Brendan was unlacing her top. She gasped as a large hand cupped her pussy, giving her mound a quick squeeze, and saw that half-grin on Ian's face.

She glanced up, blinking, as the sound of wet bathing suit slapped the concrete behind her, and noticed the twins looking not at her, but at each other. "Where we said?" Brendan asked, his eyes on his brother.

"Yep."

Ian's gaze flicked over Diana's full, exposed breasts as Brendan peeled away her top and dropped it poolside. Her mouth dropped open. How much had they planned this? What the hell was going on? Honestly, they were all a little drunk, and— But Brendan was already heaving himself out of the pool, reaching down a hand to her, Ian following and pulling off his swim trunks.

Hands grasped hers, guiding her in the near darkness to the trees in the back of the yard. Someone was running their hand over her ass. God, she could barely see, and she was completely naked, trying not to stumble, clinging to their hands, dripping wet in every sense of the word, hot and cold all at once— They stopped short.

"Time to climb," someone said in her ear.

As her eyes adjusted to the faint light, she saw where they were. In front of her, a muscular male body swung its way up wooden bars nailed into a wide tree trunk. The treehouse.

"Help her, Ian," said a voice from the top.

Help from Ian was the last thing she needed, and he was already fondling her heavy breast again and thumbing the tight bud that cried out for attention. The other hand lightly smacked her ass. "Up you go, little girl," he whispered. "I'll be under you if you can't handle it."

Little girl? Diana bristled. Ian had teased her by calling her a baby when they were kids, and she'd hated it.

"You're the one who can't handle me," she snapped, and swung herself up the tree trunk, digging into the wood with her bare toes. The effort made her sweat. She wasn't a skinny little kid any more, climbing trees like a monkey, but no way was she relying on Ian for help. She'd expected him to laugh at her retort — obviously it was ridiculous — but she only heard his breathing below her. The knowledge that he could reach up, any second, and palm her ass or her bare pussy sent butterflies through her stomach.

Brendan's strong hands took hers, pulling her up and into the blackness of the treehouse, easing her back onto a soft pile of — blankets? Shock washed over her body. They really had planned this!