Matt plucked the Frisbee from my brother's hand, kicked off his flip-flops, and jogged across the lawn. Jay looked forever grateful for the absence of introductions.

The table was set and dad was grilling and Chrissy was dancing scandalously on the lawn. Mom went in and out, lighting citronella candles. I leaned against the deck railing and watched Matt and my brother throw the Frisbee.

It seriously wasn't right, especially when Matt decided to follow Jay's lead and shuck off his t-shirt. Holy Adonis in motion. He moved with effortless grace, his long limbs flexing as he tore after the Frisbee, and every time he leapt to catch it I would swear his shorts slipped lower on his hips. Was he doing this on purpose?

I couldn't wring a glance out of him—even when I tried. I tossed my hair and cocked out my hip. I leaned forward, making my cleavage swell. I tried a little wave. Nothing.

The boy was as bad as Daisy, speeding single-mindedly after the Frisbee.

Hmph. Two could play at this game.

I went inside and changed into a pair of tiny torn up jean shorts and a blue bikini top.

Back outside, I leaned into the rail again and pretended to be enjoying the sun.

Nothing.

Matt laughed as Jay and Daisy collided.

What the hell! Show the man a Frisbee and I no longer exist?

Chrissy tugged on my arm.

"Dance lesson time," she said. "Don't fight it, Hannah. I told you this was coming, and the time is now."

I resisted for a moment. I was so not about to make a fool out of myself in front of Matt. But who said I'd make a fool out of myself?

"Yeah." I smiled hesitantly. "Okay, let's do it. Teach me how to twerk."

Chrissy squeed and pulled me onto the grass by her CD player. Hip-hop throbbed out of the speakers. First she demonstrated, her hands on her knees and her booty popping to the rhythm, then she arranged my arms and legs and started coaching me through the motions. It was surprisingly easy. Once I got the basics down, she showed me how to throw in body rolls and make my ass jiggle like Jell-O. I could feel my jean shorts riding up.

"This feels amazing!" I shouted way louder than necessary.

I glanced over my shoulder just in time to see Matt gaping at me. The Frisbee sailed past his head, narrowly missing it.

Success.

My parents aren't priers, thank god, so no one pestered Matt about his work or life as we ate. My twerking lesson also had more than the desired effect. I caught Matt watching me every time I looked at him. He slid his bare foot over mine. Fuck, I'd done this to myself.

When mom and Chrissy started to clear the table, Jay darted back inside. Dad went to fiddle with the grill and avoid cleanup.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Matt was gazing at my little blue bikini top.

"Why don't you show me around?" he said quietly.

Another thing I was learning about Matt: this guarded, dark look in his eyes meant only one thing. I was about to get fucked.

I took him on a tour of the house. I lingered upstairs, around people, and Matt followed me patiently. In fact, he seemed unusually interested in everything. He smiled at a picture of five-year-old me with curling pigtails.

"The little bird," he said, touching the frame.

We were in the living room. I shoved my hands into my back pockets.

"Yup. And that's really about it. Home sweet home."

Matt smirked at me.

"Show me your room," he said. He closed the distance between us and seized my breast. I gasped. My hand flew to my mouth. In the next room, I could hear mom humming as she loaded the dishwasher. "Or I'll do this right here."

Matt wasn't bluffing. He slid the little triangle of fabric off my breast and started to rub his thumb over my nipple. I staggered back.

"Okay, okay!" I whispered. I adjusted my bikini top. "God, down boy."

Matt laughed and I fake glared.

Bossing me around in my own house! He had no limits, a fact I should have known by then. I also should have known better than to tease him with the dance, but maybe I did. Maybe knowing better was exactly why I did it.

I wanted him in my house.

I wanted him in my room, wanting me.

I wanted him everywhere, more and more.

CHAPTER 15

Matt

HANNAH'S ASS TWITCHED as she led me down to the basement.

I felt my pulse accelerating. Too bad we needed to be quiet. After her show outside, I wanted to tie her up and give her the spanking of her life.

Jay was in the main area of the basement, installed in front of a computer. There were two other computers, three gaming consoles, controllers, remotes, two old TV sets, and wires everywhere, not to mention empty soda cans and bags of chips.

How depressing.

Jay was smashing keys and leaning toward the screen, shouting into a headset like the one Hannah had. He didn't even look up as Hannah led me to her room.

"Some view in there," I said as she closed and locked her door.


I wanted to look around, but I couldn't tear my eyes off of Hannah. The little bikini top she wore barely covered her breasts and her jean shorts were like denim panties. I pulled her to me. Hannah threw her arms around my shoulders and began to kiss my neck.

"Hannah, never deny me," I whispered. My hands traveled over her, squeezing and pulling. "Never deny me your beautiful body."

"Never," she promised.

"Seeing you in this..." I slowly untied her bikini and let the long strings dangle down her back. Seeing her in this had nearly given me a heart attack. I let the bikini fall. I undid her shorts and pushed them down her legs.

"I wanted your attention," Hannah whispered.

On my knees before her, I bit her sex through the fabric of a pale purple thong. I squeezed her ass. Hannah covered her mouth with both hands.

"You got it," I said.

I rose and brushed past her, glancing around her room. It looked much the same as it had during our video chat. Damn, the room was small, made smaller by Hannah's queen-size bed and piles of boxes. The only window was high and narrow.

She'd hung a paper lantern from the ceiling. The sight of it tugged at my heart.

Why wouldn't she let me buy her things? I could get her an apartment—a nest where I could visit and play with her. I could get her any clothes she wanted, any books, any furniture.

I closed my eyes and ran my fingers through my hair. This would all be right if I were single. Instead, it was all wrong, and I was dragging Hannah into the wrongness of it, making her a party to my cruelty.

"Matt?"

I turned, and I was back in the dream. The risk and the wrongness were worth it. Hannah stood before me in nothing but her thong, her heavy tits peaked with hard nipples. I sat on the edge of her bed and smiled at her.

"You wanted to dance for me? You wanted my attention? So dance. Let's see those moves again, Hannah."

My cock was already semi-hard. Giving Hannah orders turned me on. Fuck, being around Hannah turned me on. She was a regular exercise in self-control (or my lack thereof).

Hannah balked.

"Now?" she said.

"Mm, now." I stretched out on her bed, propping my head on her pillow. I undid my shorts and slid my hand into my boxers. "What you did outside. You wanted me to see. You wanted to make me stare. So make me stare, show me. All I could think about was this—us."

I could practically see Hannah kicking herself for teasing me with the dance. I knew she was congratulating herself, too. The girl was one sexy heap of contradictions. She took pleasure in pain. She was exultant in debasement.

Hannah moved to the center of the room and turned her back to me. She held her knees and stuck out her ass. My cock stirred under my hand. Nothing but her tiny thong concealed her sex from my view.

"You're making me ready," I whispered, careful to keep my voice low.

Hannah started dancing, making the cheeks of her ass pop and jiggle. She bent so low that I could see her breasts hanging down. I slid my cock out of my shorts.

"Mm, Hannah..."

She peeked back at me and her mouth fell open. I smirked. Damn, I loved when she had that reaction to my cock. I'd seen it first in the back of my Lexus—her eyes widening, her lips parted in shock. It would never get old.

"You're blushing," I informed her. "Don't stop."

Hannah bit her lip and looked away. She kept shaking her ass for me and I kept stroking my cock until I thought I would go mad with wanting to touch her.

"Lose the thong."

Obediently, Hannah wriggled out of her thong and went on dancing. Now I could see her plump pussy between her legs. I pulled out my phone and shot a quick video.

The videos, the pictures, the sketch. Would they be all I had one day? Fuck, I needed to stop worrying about this shit—at least for now.

Fuck now, worry later.

I slid off the bed and went to Hannah. I pushed her smooth body into the wall.

"You want it?" My cock touched her ass and she began to pant. The exertion of dancing heated her skin.

"Yes," she whispered.

"I'm going to finger your ass first, Hannah. Where's your lube?"

She gestured to a box. Near the top, I found a small black tube of water-based lubricant. I squirted it onto my hand and lubed up my pointer finger, which I slid along Hannah's crack and poised at her puckered entrance. I wasn't planning to try to get my dick in there. Hell, I hadn't been planning on putting my finger in there. Hannah made me crazy.

She pressed her hands to the wall and stuck out her ass. I felt a tremor pass through her and I smiled.

"Nervous?" I murmured. "This is your fault, Hannah. You just had to dance out there and make me look at your ass. Now I have to play with it. Did your other boyfriends like to play with your ass?"

"No," she whispered.

"Good. It's mine. You've got a nice round ass. Can you feel your little anus twitching? Trying to squeeze my finger out, trying to deny me."

I gazed down at my slick digit and the tight ring of muscle contracting against it. I hadn't even started to push. When I did, applying a slow pressure, Hannah jerked and tried to move away. I chuckled.

"Uncomfortable, right?"

"Nn... Matt."

"You're a good girl," I whispered. "Relax your ass darling. Or don't. Stay nice and tight and nervous. Either way, I'm doing this."

My finger popped in suddenly and Hannah yelped. I clamped a hand over her mouth. Through the door, I heard Jay yelling into his headset.

Hannah's body clenched at my knuckle. Holy hell, she was tight.

"You're alright baby." I spoke into her ear. Her nostrils flared and her dark eyes rolled toward me. "I know, I know, you want to see my finger in your ass, but you can't. It's only halfway in, Hannah. You like it? I know you want to moan and beg for my cock, but it seems like one of us has trouble being quiet." My soft laughter stirred her curls. "I'll have to keep your mouth covered. Do you feel your ass trying to get used to my finger?"

I wiggled my finger in Hannah's bottom. The muscles fluttered and tightened. Hannah grunted against my palm.

"That's nice baby, I like that noise. I like those embarrassing noises. You yowl like a cat when I fuck you hard, and you whine and beg like a dog. This might be my favorite, though. You're grunting like a pig. Does that mean you like this?"

I shoved my finger in another centimeter. Hannah shuddered.



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