Tell Me Pretty Lies

by Charleigh Rose

  “Really?” I roll my eyes at his selection.

  “I mean, unless you’re too much of a prude…”

  I shrug, trying my best to appear unfazed, hoping Thayer will be the one to shut it down. Holden chuckles, taking that as permission granted, then folds his hands behind his head, crosses his ankles, and focuses his attention on the scene playing out on the TV.

  “Promise you won’t tell Mom and Dad I snuck out?” the pretty, young brunette coos, pushing her lips into a pout as she opens her legs in invitation, her tiny dress bunched up high on her hips. Her “stepbrother” moves toward the bed, putting his hands on her spread knees.

  “That depends. Are you going to finally let me fuck this tight little pussy?”

  She plants a foot on his chest when he tries to move in. “One time,” she says firmly. “I’ll let you fuck me once, if you promise not to tell.”

  “Deal.”

  It’s cheesy. And so obviously scripted. But my pulse quickens, and the arousal I was feeling earlier returns with a vengeance. I feel my nipples tighten painfully underneath Thayer’s shirt, and my breath catches when the guy on the screen shoves his boxers down before he slides into her without preamble. They both groan as he moves inside her, and after only a few short seconds, he’s flipping her onto her stomach and pushing into her from behind. I bite down on my lip, squeezing my thighs together.

  Closing my eyes, I will myself to think about anything other than what’s on the screen, but all my stupid brain manages to do is picture Thayer inside me, his lips on my neck and his hands on my hips as I straddle him.

  “Turn it off,” Thayer’s angry voice breaks into my fantasy. My eyes snap open to find him watching me with his fists clenched at his side and a noticeable bulge in his jeans.

  My cheeks burn and I avert my gaze. Holden chuckles knowingly, exiting out of the app. Stephen King’s It—the new one—replaces the porno. Much better. My heartrate returns to normal after a few minutes, and my eyes start to grow heavy. I inch down enough to lay my head flat on the cushion, keeping my legs curled up tight, away from Thayer, but then I feel his hand on my ankle right before he pulls my legs to rest on top of his lap, one at a time. I’m even more surprised when he doesn’t release me. His right hand stays wrapped around my ankle.

  “Thanks,” I mutter, returning my attention to the movie, even though I can’t focus on anything other than the feeling of his warm fingers on my ankle. His thumb glides back and forth, but his eyes are locked on the TV, making me wonder if he’s even aware he’s doing it. When his fingertips ghost over my calves and up to the insides of my thighs and back down again under the blanket, I know it’s intentional. Goosebumps break out over my skin, but I don’t make a move to stop him.

  For what seems like forever, his fingers continue their path up and down my legs, inching a little higher with each pass, teasing. When he finally reaches the seam of my shorts, I’m practically shaking with need. My eyes shoot over to make sure Holden isn’t aware of what’s happening right next to him. I can’t see his face, but his hand hangs limply off the side of the sofa, telling me he’s passed out. Thayer’s thumb presses against my clit through the thin fabric of my shorts, and my eyes fall shut at the sensation. He only applies the faintest amount of pressure, rubbing slow circles, and I part my legs, encouraging him to give me more even though I shouldn’t let this happen. I should be stopping this.

  Thayer groans, then both of his hands are at my hips, pulling my shorts down. Panicked, I cover his hands with mine, stopping him. I look over at Holden once again, but he’s still in the same position, asleep and oblivious.

  “Remember when I said you’d pay for that little show later?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly. “It’s later.”

  I gnaw on my lip, nervous, but I slowly release my grip on his hands, unable to resist temptation. My heart slams against my ribs as Thayer slides my shorts down my legs, stuffing them in between the cushions. His warm palm skims up my left leg, pushing my knee up under the blanket, then he repeats the motion with the other one. Reaching over, he drags his thumb against my bottom lip. When my mouth parts, his middle finger dips past my lips.

  “Suck,” he instructs. I close my lips around his finger, sucking lightly as he slides it in and out. His eyes blaze as he watches my mouth, then he pulls it out, replacing it with a different finger. “Again.”

  I do as he says. Once he’s satisfied, his hand moves under the blanket, finding the heat between my legs. His two middle fingers flatten against me, rubbing up and down before he curls them to push inside me.

  “Fuck, that’s tight,” Thayer murmurs.

  His words spur me on, but I cast a nervous glance toward Holden’s sleeping form once more.

  “Relax. He can’t see anything.”

  His words do little to calm me. The blanket covers what we’re doing, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have ears. Luckily, the movie is loud, because I’m way too turned on to stop whatever it is that we’re doing. Holden could wake up at any moment, but I think the added element of fear somehow adds to the intensity.

  “Show me those perfect little tits,” he says, curling his fingers, hitting a spot inside me I didn’t know existed. I tense up, arching off the couch with a moan.

  “Shayne,” he all but growls. “Lift your shirt.”

  I pull the hem of my shirt up, keeping my arms pressed to my sides to push my chest together for his benefit.

  “Fuck, that’s good.” Thayer’s eyes darken as he lifts the side of the blanket up and dips his head to see underneath, watching his fingers pump into me. He licks his lips and then he’s disappearing beneath the blanket. Before I know what’s happening, I feel his hot, wet tongue dart out to taste me. I gasp, my hips jerking off the couch. Thayer’s free hand snakes up my stomach and covers my mouth as his tongue continues its ministrations.

  I let my thighs fall open, drunk off the feeling. He fucks me with his fingers as he sucks and licks, and it isn’t long before I’m trembling beneath him. I can hear how wet I am with each pump of his hand, and when I start to clench around his fingers, he picks up the pace while simultaneously sucking my clit into his mouth.

  I cry out, unable to hold back, and Thayer presses his palm harder against my mouth. I bite down on it, chest heaving, as he brings me back down to Earth with soft strokes with the flat of his tongue.

  Holy shit.

  My hair clings to my damp forehead, my ears still buzzing. That was hands-down, the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had. I’m still catching my breath when Thayer’s head appears from under the blanket before he crawls on top of me, kissing me hard. I moan into his mouth when his jeans press into my still sensitive center, unable to keep from rubbing against him. Rough hands grip my thighs and then he’s lifting me from the couch.

  “What are you doing?” I whisper-yell, my arms wrapping around his neck out of reflex as he walks away, his hands moving to knead my ass. Holden could wake up. Christian could still be awake, for all I know. Yet Thayer’s carrying me through his house half-naked.

  “We’re not done yet.”

  Thayer

  I don’t know what the fuck I’m thinking. Shayne has a way of getting inside my head and making me want things I know I can’t have. Things I don’t deserve. The more time I spend with her, the more conflicted I feel. My misery doesn’t just want company. It wants Shayne. And for some fucked-up reason, she wants me, too.

  She thinks I don’t care about her. She thinks I like to fuck with her body, her mind, and her emotions for the fun of it. What she doesn’t know is I’m fighting myself every goddamn day. Guilt for wanting her like I do. Guilt for stringing her along. Guilt for finding some sliver of fucking happiness in her when Danny is rotting six feet under. I’m drawn to her for the same reason I hate her.

  She makes me feel.

  I could’ve killed Holden when he streamed that fucking porn. I let it play out, just to see Shayne’s reaction, expecting her to protest. Instead, I watched h
er while she watched them fuck on screen, her lips parting slightly, a flush crawling up her neck. She liked it. Maybe even wished it was her. Her breathing changed, coming out in shallow, little pants, and the lust in her eyes mirrored my own. To say it backfired would be putting it mildly. I was hard as fuck, needing to touch her. To taste her. To be so far inside her that we both forgot about our families, our tragedies, our fucked-up lives, and everything that’s keeping us apart.

  Since the day she wandered into the barn, there was something between us. We were all close—Holden, Grey, Danny, Shayne, and me. But Shayne was mine. And as I carry her tight little body down the hall to my bedroom, I know she still is.

  Walking into my room, I kick the door shut behind me, then prowl over to my bed, dropping Shayne onto my sheets. She lands with a squeal, her light blonde hair a stark contrast against my black sheets. She frowns, sitting up and pulling my T-shirt down to cover herself.

  “What?” I ask, my patience wearing thin. My cock is about to burst through my zipper.

  Her little nose scrunches up, eyeing my sheets with disdain. She has a possessive streak. And it only gets me harder.

  “No one’s been in here for a long time,” I say, crawling over her, my palms braced on either side of her head.

  “That’s a lie.”

  Oh, right. The chick from the night Holden decided to go rogue. I don’t even know her name. All I know is that while I was minding my own fucking business, she snuck into my room. When I told her to get the fuck out, she dropped to her knees, her fingers undoing the button of my jeans in record time. For a brief moment, I considered letting her suck me off. I figured she might be a nice distraction from the little devil underneath me. But she felt all wrong. Her tits were too big. Her hair the wrong color. In short, she wasn’t Shayne. And as it turns out, my dick didn’t want anything to do with her. No sooner had I zipped up my pants and told her to leave than I heard the commotion out in the hall.

  “She tried it. I wasn’t interested.”

  Shayne narrows her eyes at me, searching for signs of deception. She won’t find any. “If I let you touch me again, are you going to turn cold and leave me right after?”

  “Probably,” I answer truthfully. Disappointment and maybe even hurt flash in her eyes and I feel a stab of regret for putting it there. “Unless…”

  “Unless what?” she asks, her eyes locked onto my chest, avoiding my gaze. Her little fingers toy with the strings of my hoodie as she waits for my response.

  “Unless you want to stay.”

  What the fuck am I saying?

  Hopeful blue eyes meet mine, and it’s that look right there that tells me what I already know. I shouldn’t have said that. It’s only going to make things more difficult when this thing, whatever it is, inevitably blows up in both our faces. Even if she didn’t know about Grey, her brother is still responsible for the death of mine. That’s something you don’t move on from.

  “In here?” she asks, her tone slightly defensive. Guarded. She doesn’t trust me. I don’t trust her. And until that changes, the walls we’ve stacked up high over the past year will stay firmly in place.

  I nod silently, dipping my head to kiss her collarbone. She arches her neck in invitation, turning her head to the side. She smells so fucking good, a combination of my shampoo and something uniquely Shayne. I slip my hand between her thighs, feeling her pussy still slick with the evidence of her orgasm. I tease her clit with the tip of my finger, working her up all over again.

  “Are you going to sleep in my bed, Shayne?” I ask before catching her earlobe between my teeth, tugging. “Because I think it’s time that I get something out of this.” I throw her earlier words back at her.

  Shayne shivers beneath me as she rocks into my hand, but she doesn’t give me the words I want to hear.

  “Yes or no?” I ask, slipping a finger inside her. Her hands come up to grip my biceps and squeeze.

  “Yes,” she breathes. “But we’re going to talk first.”

  I groan, knowing that was coming, but my finger doesn’t stop pumping. “You can talk. I’ll do this.”

  “You fixed my tires,” she says, trying to keep her voice normal.

  “You helped Holden,” I say by way of explanation.

  “You slept with Taylor,” she accuses, the hurt in her voice evident.

  I pause my movements, looking down into her pools of blue. I pull my fingers from her, my hand curling around her hip. “I never fucked her. As soon as I saw your face, I made her leave.”

  Her eyes widen in surprise, and the relief I see in them does something to me. I knew she thought I fucked Taylor, and I let her think that. I wanted her to. But now…now I feel like a dick.

  “My turn. Aiden wants you.”

  “I don’t want him.”

  “I don’t want anyone else touching you.”

  “Same goes for you.”

  “Deal.”

  “Thayer?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Touch me.”

  “Gladly.” Pulling back, I tear off my jacket before returning to my position with my arms caging her in beneath me, palms flat on my mattress.

  Shayne looks up at me, wide-eyed and innocent. “I want to touch you this time.”

  Her words go straight to my cock. “Then do it,” I say, my voice strangled.

  Her eyes flit down between us as tentative fingers reach out to unbutton my jeans. She tugs on the zipper, eyes widening as if she’s opening a present on Christmas morning, and then she’s pushing my jeans down.

  I help her out, standing to get rid of them before I’m back between her warm thighs. “Lift your shirt.” I want to see all of her. Shayne does one better, pulling it up and over her head before tossing it onto the floor. Her tits are flawless. Two perfect handfuls, slightly fuller on the bottom, and tiny pink nipples decorated with those piercings. I still can’t believe she followed through with it, but I’m glad she did, because it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

  Her fingers are warm when they dip inside my boxers, and my abs tighten when they wrap around me.

  “Oh, fuck.” I reach down to pull my shirt up so I can see everything happening between us. “Take me out.”

  One hand tugs my boxers down while the other stays wrapped around me, then she looks up at me, as if waiting for further instruction. It didn’t dawn on me until this very second that she might not have much experience. She lived with us from the time she was fourteen until she turned seventeen, and most of that last year was spent with me. I just assumed that when she went away, she’d find some new guy to give all her firsts to.

  “Have you done this before?”

  “Of course,” she says with a defensive edge to her tone, like the question embarrasses her, but I don’t care either way.

  “Squeeze harder.”

  She tightens her grip around me, and I groan, closing my eyes. Slowly, she starts to work my length, moving her fist up and down, and it feels so fucking good. After a few strokes, she releases me, but then I look up to see her bringing her hand to her mouth. Her tongue slips past her lips to lick her palm, and then she’s wrapping it around me again.

  Damn, that was hot. I don’t know if it was the move itself or the fact that it’s Shayne. My bet is on the latter, because everything she does turns me on. Her eyes are glued to where she fists me as she starts to move faster, making my hips jerk. My arms are starting to strain from holding myself up, but Shayne has her hand on my dick for the first time, and I’m not doing anything to fuck this up.

  I dip my head to nip at the swell of her tits before I bring my lips up to ghost across her nipples. My lip rings bump into her piercing and she moans, so I do it again. I don’t know how tender they are, but she doesn’t stop me, so I continue, dragging my lips over the hardened tip over and over before switching to the other side. Her breathing grows ragged, and the more worked up I get her, the faster her hand moves.

  Shayne moans, arching her chest off
the mattress, and I pull back, sitting on my heels between her bent knees.

  “Rub your clit.”

  Hesitant, lust-filled eyes meet mine, and she wets her lips in a nervous gesture, bringing her knees back together. I shove my shirt up, pinning it between my chin and my chest before I wrap my fist around my cock. Shayne’s lips part as she watches me. I use my free hand to grip her knee, slowly opening her legs. She lets her thighs fall apart, and then two fingers snake in between her legs, rubbing her little clit.

  She’s perfect down there, too. Completely smooth and bare. And I know firsthand that she tastes as good as she looks.

  I start to fuck myself with my fist as I watch her rub tiny circles, watching in fascination as her pussy grows slick. Her left hand kneads her tit, and the sight of her touching herself like this is almost enough to make me come. Just when I think it can’t possibly get any better, her hand darts out to grip my cock, pulling me to her warm, wet pussy. I fall forward, my left fist pressed into the mattress above her shoulder.

  “Fuck, Shayne,” I groan, dropping my hand to let her take control.

  She presses my tip against her clit, getting herself off while her hand works my shaft. She slides me through her wetness, her hips bucking against me. It’d be so easy to slip inside her right now. I’m about to blow, and I can tell she is, too, so I push two fingers into her without warning at the same time I flick my tongue against her nipple.

  Shayne moans loud as fuck as her body tenses up, and then she’s spasming around my fingers over and over. Her hand keeps moving, milking my orgasm from me.

  “Goddamn,” I grind out, watching the way my cum coats her clit. Shayne’s body goes limp, her hand loosening as she slowly glides my tip through our combined mess. Not wanting to take any chances, I roll off her, pulling my boxers back into place, and pluck her discarded shirt off the floor. I bring it between her legs to clean her up and she flinches, still sensitive. Her cheeks are pink, and her eyes are glazed over, a satisfied look in them. She blinks slowly, and I realize how tired she must be.