9
ELLIE
I wake to a message from Gabriella.
Gabriella – Did you do it yet? I want the deets.
Me – No. I got home before them last night and went straight to sleep.
Gabriella – Not good enough, sweetie!
Me – Gimme a break. I’ll do it.
If Gabriella knew how hard my pussy just clenched at the thought of fucking Micky, she wouldn’t doubt my intentions one bit.
But I guess she’s worried that a girl who needs a dare to act on her obvious physical urges is cowardly enough to pull out of a dare. It’s something I’ve never done. Ever.
Throughout classes and library study time, all I can think about is how Micky looked with a surprised expression on his face and his hand cupping his cock. He wasn’t embarrassed, that’s for sure. In fact, I’m sure he was pleased with the chance to reveal what he has to offer.
Show off.
Maybe he and Seb planned the whole thing. I wouldn’t put it past either of them.
Maybe they hoped that one look at the most exceptional cock in the northern hemisphere would be enough to tempt me over the line again.
Without the dare, all it would have done was driven me a little closer to sex-fueled fantasy insanity . The dare is the icing on the cake because now I know exactly what I’m going to get.
If he wants to go through with it, that is.
The later it gets in the afternoon, the more restless the butterflies in my belly become. Instead of finishing an assignment, I mentally calculate the pros and cons of approaching the dare. Do I just come out and tell him about Gabriella’s challenge and hope he’s happy to help me out? That feels lame. Do I act all seductive and hope he makes a move? Difficult to achieve with his brothers and our parents around. Do I message him and ask him to meet me somewhere? A hotel room, maybe? Logistically and financially risky if he doesn’t turn up. And a message will leave evidence for him to show his brothers or even other people. My last idea is to slip into his bed in the middle of the night and hope that my hands on his skin is enough to pique his interest.
By the time I’m done imagining each of the scenarios, my panties are damp, and my body is shivery with lust. I’m aching to come again, hungry for the way he made me feel in the closet. Part of that is because orgasms are awesome, but it’s also because when he succeeded in tipping me over the edge, he reassured me that I’m not actually frigid at all.
Having that fact underlined multiple times would be good. Spectacular, actually.
Gabriella messages me at four-thirty with a clock emoji. I respond with a gif of a puppy slowly shaking its head. She sends a laughing emoji back, and then I stick my phone in my bag, pack up my files and laptop and head out of the library.
Maybe she imagines me jumping him after a lecture and dragging him into a restroom. Not my style at all.
Outside, the sun is perfectly warm, settling a yellow glow over the paved quad and imposing buildings. I scan the crowds for anyone I know, but it’s mostly freshmen, as far as I can make out. I’m almost in my car when my phone rings. By the time I fumble for it, it’s close to clicking into voicemail, so I don’t look at the screen before I answer.
“Hello.”
“Ellie.” Mom’s voice is breathy and a little panicked.
“Yeah. I’m okay. Just couldn’t find my phone.”
“Oh, okay,” she says. “Listen. I’ve got a flat, and I can’t make it to drop the refreshments at the school downtown.”
“What school?” I say, confused.
“The one where the triplets are coaching. I was supposed to take the drinks and snacks.”
“That’s a shame.” I rest my bag on the floor, clutching the phone between my shoulder and neck as I search for my keys.
“I need you to go to the closest store, get the stuff, and drop it off. I’m going to send you all the details.”
“Mom,” I whine. “I’ve got too much to do.” Too much that doesn’t involve witnessing my stepbrothers doing altruistic things.
“It won’t take long,” she says. “It’s important. It wouldn’t hurt you to get more involved in some community outreach. The triplets have just as much work as you, and they have football training, too. They still have time to make the world a better place.”
There she goes, highlighting all the amazingness of her golden stepsons and bringing me down in the process. Ugh. The resentment I feel towards them bubbles up all over again. Sighing loudly, I know that saying no will only make her mad and even more disappointed in me if that’s even possible. “Send me a list,” I say.
“I’m on it.”
Before I get in the car, and without even saying goodbye, mom has hung up the phone.
Perfect.
I wait for the list to come through and pick a store I know will have everything. It’s going to cost a lot, and against all my bubbling angry feelings, I am kind of proud that my family is doing helpful stuff like this.
In the store, I fill a cart with drinks and snacks. It takes me a while to pack it into bags and set it into my trunk, and then I tap the address into my phone so that I can follow directions. The closer I get, the more my stomach feels fluttery. The neighborhood isn’t great, but my nervousness doesn’t come from concern for my safety. It’s the anticipation of seeing Micky and his brothers with the knowledge of what’s going to happen later.
The most brazen dare I’ve ever pulled off.
I drive slowly into the lot next to the field and scan for familiar faces. Colby is working with one group of kids, and Seb and Micky are running drills with another. I sound my horn and wave, catching Micky’s attention. His expression is surprised, and then he jogs in my direction as I exit the vehicle.
“What are you doing here?” he asks when he’s close.
“Bringing refreshments,” I say. “My mom has car trouble.”
When I open the trunk, Micky’s eyes go wide. “Wow. That’s some haul.”
He steps closer to look into the bags, and I get a lungful of the sexiest man smell ever. Oh god. Even sweaty, Micky is lickably gorgeous, and I feel like a sex-starved loon for wanting to get closer and breathe him in.
“Yeah, it’s big,” I say, my mind all foggy from his pheromones and the lingering memory of his cock. Big? What am I even saying? Sweat prickles under my arms as I blush hotter than the sun.
“Yeah,” Micky agrees, sounding confused. When I risk glancing in his direction, one of his dark brows is quirked, and the corners of his mouth are pulled upward.
Shit.
He’s laughing at me.
“So, do you want to take this stuff or not?”
“I do. Can you help me carry it, or shall I call Colby?”
“I can help.”
We each grab two bags and carry them over to a bench at the edge of the field. Colby and Sebastian look up and follow our progress. Micky walks ahead, and I keep my eyes focused on his ass because it’s so goddamned perfect it’s mesmerizing. That ass could crack walnuts. As the powerhouse behind his perfect dick, it could split me in two.
I shake my head, trying to jolt some sense back into my addled brain. Seriously, Ellie, what the fuck? The dare is ringing in my ears, and I only have a few hours before my lack of dare fulfillment feels uncomfortable.
“Just put them here,” he says, dropping his bags onto the bench and unloading the contents. The juice boxes are all wrapped in plastic, and Micky splits them.
“Shall I help you with that?” I ask.
He pauses what he’s doing and fixes me with that surprised look again. “Sure. That would be great.”
Behind us, Colby is yelling instructions. I hear Seb’s laughter and turn to see the kids all doubled over at something he’s said. With the sun shining down on us, there is something so unbelievably wholesome about this arrangement.
“Have you guys been doing this for long?” I ask Micky.
“A few weeks,” he says. “It was only supposed to be a short-term thing, but we’re going to carry on. The kids are awesome, and they’re making great progress.”
“That’s good,” I say.
“Yeah. It feels good to give something back.”
“I can see that.”
We continue unpacking as silence settles between us. There are so many things I want to ask Micky. Even though we live in the same house, there seems to be so much that I don’t know about him and his brothers. It feels weird that I’ve built up this image of them as selfish douchebags, when in reality, they seem different.
I swallow involuntarily at the realization that I’m the selfish one.
What the hell do I do to benefit the community? How am I making anyone’s life any better?
Ugh.
I already have my mom making me feel like a disappointment. I don’t need to be doing it to myself.
“You know, we need someone to organize the refreshments every week,” Micky says softly. “Dad has agreed to pay for it. Some kind of tax write-off. But we don’t get time to pick the stuff up before we come…there just isn’t enough room between classes and the start of the sessions.”
“Instead of mom, you mean?”
“Yeah, but obviously only if you have time.”
He eyes me cautiously, his long lashes casting shadows over his chiseled cheekbones. My gaze drifts to his mouth—his perfect, orgasmic mouth—and my lips tingle to kiss him. Would his mouth move over mine the same way as Seb’s did? Will he be as bossy as Colby when we’re alone?
“I guess I could,” I say, still not able to fully focus on what I’m saying.
“That would be awesome.” The smile Micky gives me is broad and genuine, his perfectly straight white teeth a bolt of pure joy in my otherwise stress-filled day.
The sound of the kid’s laughter and chatter builds, and when I turn, I find Colby and Seb leading their groups toward us. They’re all sweaty and ruddy-cheeked and smiling like they’ve been having the best time. I grab a few drinks and hand them out. There are oat bars and fruit too, and the kids take everything gratefully, settling onto the grass to enjoy a break from training.
Colby and Seb wait until everyone else has been served before accepting a drink and a snack themselves. “I didn’t expect to see you here,” Colby says, nodding slowly as though my presence is something that requires a change of his opinion of me.
“I asked Ellie if she’d help every week, and she said yes.”
“That’s great,” Seb says, taking a massive bite from an oversized red apple.
“Yeah, awesome.” Coming from Colby, it comes with an undercurrent of suspicion.
It’s a suspicion that I understand. We’ve never been friendly, not even when we were younger. I’ve always held them firmly at arm’s length, so why are things changing now?
I once heard someone say that people are like onions. You peel off one layer and find so many other layers beneath. It’s like my experience in the closet peeled off their outer shell, and now suddenly, all their other layers are visible.
I turn my attention back to them, trying to hold up the old lens against each triplet. Self-righteous Colby. Foolish Seb. Suck-up Micky. But the lens doesn’t work because it’s been cracked with new knowledge.
Is it better that I’ve begun to see them as better people?
Does it make going through with the dare tonight easier or harder?
I chew the inside of my cheek, sneaking a look at Micky, and decide that it’s a bit of both. Easier because I can relate to him more, but harder because relating means being closer to him, and getting closer means having feelings.
Feelings don’t have a place between us.
Feelings are messy and hurt-filled and best avoided at all times.
“So, are you going to hang around and watch?” Seb asks with a wink.
“No,” I reply quickly, even though I’d enjoy seeing the kids have fun. I don’t want their good Samaritan ways to seep through the cracks in my exterior any more than they have. “I’d better go.”
“Shame,” Seb says, and I don’t miss the warning look that Colby spears in his direction.
“See you at home,” Micky says as I turn to make my escape.
I don’t stop, but I call over my shoulder. “Yeah, see you there.”
I’ll see him at home for a dare and nothing more. I’ll go through with this because that’s what I do and because I want his body and all the skills I know he can use to make me feel good.
But when it’s done, I need to do whatever I can to fix that old lens. I need to find the strength to hold them at arm’s length again.
I can’t let them get under my skin.
Not now. Not ever.