by Alyne Robers
I pull the curtain closed as Kane settles in, facing me. He looks even larger crammed in this tiny tub. His long legs are cramped up as he puts his feet on either side of my hips. I pull my knees to my chest but we are still so close.
"Is this better?" he asks quietly.
"Slightly," I admit. I can feel and hear the thunder but I can't see the flashes of light. Surrounded by the tile and Kane, I feel protected.
"Why are you here?" I ask.
"I remember Brooklyn saying you didn't like storms. I wanted to check on you when the power went out."
"So you broke in?"
"You mad?"
"No." I am relieved to see him actually. "How do you know how to pick locks?"
"I'm a P.I. It comes in handy," he admit. "You want me to call Miles or Brooklyn?"
"No. I don't want to be a burden anymore. You can go if you want."
I swallow the lump in my throat. Without his body heat on mine and his large arms caging me in, I might freak out. I can't tell him that though.
"I don't want to go."
I give him a crooked smile as another crack of lightening comes. When I flinch, Kane grabs my legs and pulls me closer, between his legs. He wraps his arms around my shoulders. Our faces are only inches apart.
"This is so embarrassing," I mumble, looking down.
"Everyone is scared of something."
"What are you scared of?"
Kane takes his time thinking. I can't imagine him being scared of much. He always looks so confident and in charge.
"Clowns."
"Clowns?" I pause and look up at his face. I expected to see a smile or some hint of a joke. I only see honesty.
"Yeah. Clowns scare the shit out of me."
"But, they're just people. People who are supposed to make you laugh."
"They are creepy as fuck, London," he says, shaking my shoulders like he's trying to shake some sense into me. "With those creepy fake ass smiles painted on white faces. Don't even get me started on the hair."
I can't help it. I start laughing. Kane's lips are pursed as he watches me trying to stop the laughter that's bubbling out me.
"Not funny," he grumbles.
"I know," I say, composing myself. "It does make me feel a little better though. Keep distracting me."
Kane smiles and brushes some hair off my forehead. I stop laughing at the feel of his rough fingertips on my skin. I become aware of how close we are, intertwined together in my bathtub. I'm barely dressed and practically in his lap. His fingers slowly drift down the side of my face, tickling my jaw and wrap gently around my neck.
Kane notices it too. His eyes take in my bare legs that are wrapped around his. Our chests are almost touching and even in the little light from his flashlight on the floor, I can see my nipples through the thin shirt. More of my skin is touching him than not.
His hand moves down my bare shoulder, running a soft path down my arm. His touch is so light it's almost not even there. But I know it is. There is a path of heat following his fingers. He reaches my hand, running his fingers over my palm.
The blood rushing in my ears is drowning out the distant thunder. Our breathing is echoing in the small space and I'm not longer cold. There's a static buzz in the room, in this tub. I can feel it buzzing in my veins and in the air between us. We are curtained off from the world until a crash of lightening shatters the small bubble of calm. It rattles the walls and I feel it in the floor below me. The fear is irrational and I know this, but I still scream and cover my ears much like the little girl I was did so long ago.
"Hey. You're okay."
His voice is calm, cutting through my pounding heart and fading rumbles of the thunder. His arms wrap around me and I'm pulled into his chest.
"Shit. You're shaking, London."
My teeth are chattering and my whole body is practically convulsing. Kane rubs my back slowly while keeping me tight against him. Even terrified, I feel safe and protected. He doesn't let me go or make fun of me for breaking down like a child. He just whispers calming words into my hair and holds me.
My body starts to relax and soon my shaking stops. I should pull away. There is something very wrong with huddling in a bathtub with an attractive guy that has slept with your sister. Kane can only be trouble for me. He's the type of trouble Brooklyn likes. He is someone Brooklyn likes.
It's so wrong, but I cling to the feeling. I need it more than I need anyone's acceptance at this moment. The right thing to do would be to ask him to leave. I can't do that. Not when he is the only thing soothing my burning soul.
I'm sick of being lonely and trying to be strong. If Kane can chase the demons away for this moment, I can't turn him away. It's selfish and probably deceitful, but that little girl inside doesn't care. She just wants to be held and know that someone is coming to save her in the storm.
So I don't pull away and neither does Kane. His fingers drift through my hair and down my back until I melt into him. I don't even feel it when I start to drift off. I don't feel it when he lifts me and carries me to my bedroom or pulls the covers over me.
SIXTEEN
Brooklyn
The music vibrates through my body. I walk the floor, taking in the customers. Heads turn to follow the click of my heels, and my confidence grows. A group of young business men sit near the stage. Already buzzed and getting loud, they will pay out well.
"New York," Tanya shouts from behind the bar. "Your VIP is back. His table is yours."
I glance over my shoulder and find Kane at the table he always takes when he comes in. I haven't danced for him since that night in his apartment. Almost like he doesn't need to come here once he had me. There's nothing to tease anymore.
I get his usual and approach his table and he takes me in. I feel his gaze over my body. I am used to men looking at me all night but somehow Kane makes me feel his stare. Like if he is looking at me, then I have captured the most important attention. He's not here for a dance or a drink like the other men. He is here for me.
I slide his drink in front of him and he grabs my hand, putting a twenty in it. I let him drag me to his lap, and I straddle his legs.
"I thought you didn't want to pay to touch me?" I say in his ear.
"I just wanted some of your time."
I roll my hips, lightly grinding against him. It's just a tease but a reminder of how he makes me feel. Whenever I see or think of Kane, I think mind-blowing sex and passion. Under my skirt, his jeans rub against my inner thighs. I can feel myself getting wet already and I wonder if he can tell. Kane groans when I rub his growing cock through his jeans, the sound vibrating and tortured.
"Just time? You can have some of my time when I get off tonight," I whisper in his ear, licking the shell of it.
I'm not even sure I want to wait that long, but what I want I can't have here. When his fingers slip under my skirt and rub the outside of my thong, I know I'm close to losing control. The song ends and I jump off Kane like he was on fire.
"You're trouble," I tell him.
"You like trouble."
I start to leave, seeing the group of business men watching me. One of them waves me over. I need to be careful when Kane is here. Now those men probably think they can also shove their hands up my skirt.
"Another?" Kane asks, holding another twenty between his fingers.
"I don't think I should. You make it hard to control myself."
He raises an eyebrow in challenge. "I don't see the problem."
I bite my lip and slowly walk away, wishing like hell I didn't need to. If I don't take the table of drunk and impatient men, another girl will. I can tell as I approach them they will be easy money. Most of theirs ties are either off or hanging lose around their necks. They are all pretty young and good looking. Expensive watches and cuff links are always a good sign.
"Sorry for the wait, gentlemen. What are you guys drinking?" I say when I approach. I lean over and give them a view of my impressive cleavage thanks to my corset. I'm e
asily forgiven.
I head up to the bar and get drinks and a pitcher of beer for the six guys. I throw some extra sway in my step on the way back, knowing they are watching me. They seem to be celebrating something, so they are loose with their cash.
These are the nights that I love to work. Packed with men ready to throw their hard-earned money at a pretty ass. The time flies by when I have options and can bounce between customers. I don't even notice the pain in my feet or the exhaustion. I get drunk on the power and excitement.
"How about a dance, baby?" one of them asks. He's good-looking with blond hair and blue eyes. Total opposite of my type. The type London would like.
"I would love to."
I sit on the table and slide over so I'm directly in front of him. He has a clear view between my spread legs and he takes full advantage of it. I lean back, letting my long hair touch the sticky table. I will regret that tomorrow when I go to wash it, but the guys love it. It makes my stomach look flat and breast look even perkier.
When blondie goes to touch my thigh, I smack his hand away and shake my head.
"No touching."
His friends laugh but go quiet when I start to untie the corset. I let it drop to the table and the cool air makes my exposed nipples hard. This is the rush I come here for. Six men are leaning toward me, hanging on my every move. I lie on the table, pushing my boobs together and rubbing them.
Blondie almost looks uncomfortable. I watch his throat move as he swallows hard, looking up at my almost naked body from between my knees. His reaction is intoxicating. I want more of it. I roll to my stomach and bring myself up on my knees, giving him a view of my ass. The other guys stick bills in my thong as I crawl around the table.
I tease each one of them. Unbuttoning one of their collared shirts. I take off someone's tie and slip the jacket off another. The money is sticking to my knees when I finally crawl off and into blondie's lap. He's hard in his pants as I grind against him. When the song ends, I slowly climb off him. He seems pleased. I take my time redressing and gathering my tips.
"Thank you gentleman," I say before I leave them.
Kane's table is empty as I pass. I wonder briefly when he walked out.
"Your boyfriend looked pissed before he left," Tanya says when I get behind the bar.
"I don't do boyfriends."
"Well you do serve drinks and dance so at least do that," she snaps, shoving a glass in my hand.
"He really looked pissed?" I ask.
"You were practically naked in that kid's lap," she challenges. "Get to work."
I try to be flirty and sexy as I serve my customers but I can't stop thinking about Kane. I'm not upset that he left, but I worry about the reason. I thought we had an understanding. Is Kane starting to get possessive? I can't have that, especially at my place of work. I need to dance for more than just the money.
"New York," one of the new security guys calls me. "VIP."
I sigh but head back. This would be the perfect distraction. This is one of the reasons I don't get involved with anyone. I don't have the emotional capacity to care about feelings. I want the fun without heart.
I enter the VIP room and climb onto the small center stage. A body is hidden in the shadows and my body buzzes with awareness and excitement. I would recognize Kane's wide shoulders and confident stance from anywhere.
"Couldn't get enough of me?" I ask as music starts to fill the small booth.
"I'm starting to wonder if that is even possible."
His words warm me in the chilly room. It drives the way I move my hips and spin around the pole. I love the way he looks at me, like he's restraining himself from taking me. His hands clench into fists as he leans back to watch me. His eyes on me get me hotter than his touch.
I work the pole with determination and lose myself to Kane and the music. In here, it's only his eyes on me and that's enough for me.
"I thought you left," I tell him as I work the pole.
"I was going to."
"Why?"
Kane leans forward and I start to unlace the corset.
"I left because I wanted to hurt that pretty boy."
"Why?"
"Come over here, Brooklyn."
I step down from my platform, taking off my corset as I approach him. Kane's eyes darken as he watches me. I feel more alive in this tiny, dark room with him than I do anywhere else in the light.
I live for the physical reactions, not the emotional. I want the wetness between my legs and hard nipples, not butterflies. I want Kane to show me how hard I make him. Orgasms and lust. Loss of control with the need to be together without the talking or feelings. No love or affection.
"I didn't like his hands on you," Kane growls as I climb onto his lap. He roughly pulls me against his body, pushing me down on his lap, showing me how hard he is.
"You don't get to be jealous."
"Why the fuck not?"
The anger in his voice give me pause. It's just long enough for Kane to rise and toss me down on the couch. He climbs over me, pinning my hands above my head. His head lowers and I feel his hot breath on my neck.
"He doesn't know what you need," he says.
"I'm starting to you think you don't either. This isn't a relationship."
Kane laughs. It's deep and dark. His lips touch my neck and I squirm under his body. Half of me wants to push him off and remind him he doesn't have a claim to me. The other half, the lower half, wants him to push my panties to the side and fuck me right here. I'm hot and angry. It could be the new "hangry".
"He doesn't know that you don't need sex. You need to be fucked," he whispers before taking a hard nipple in his mouth. I cry out at the sensation. With my hands pinned, I can't grab and pull his hair like I want to.
"He doesn't know you need to be taken hard and rough. You need a big dick inside you so you feel it still the next day. You need to know how badly you are wanted and that words mean nothing to you. You need to feel it."
I shiver as he whispers the truth on my body. I'm ready to beg Kane to prove his point. I want him to fight for me and prove he knows what I need. Right now what I need is him. His lips hover over mine and I tilt my face to his. Kane has been everywhere on my body but never tasted my lips. A loud banging on the door breaks us apart.
"Time is up," a loud voice booms.
Kane releases his hold on me and I escape from beneath him. I quickly dress, knowing the bouncer will come in soon if I take too long.
"Don't go back out there tonight," Kane says quietly.
I turn to look back at him. Kane's face is unreadable, but I see the tension in every muscle of his body. I feel it in the air, wrapping around me and chilling my body that was just on fire only moments ago.
It's moments like this that I live to avoid. The inevitable disappointment he will feel when I walk out of this room and return to flirting and taking my clothes off for strangers. The guilt I will feel for making him feel unwanted. The sinking feeling in my knotted stomach with the knowledge that Kane is getting too close.
"Don't ask me that, Kane."
"I already did, Brooklyn"
I shake my head and turn my back to him so he can't see how much I hate saying my next words.
"I'm not your girlfriend. You don't get to tell me what to do."
The room is silent and I feel the faint vibration from the outside. Life goes on as these wall start to close in on me. I feel smothered and trapped.
"We're done."
"That's it then? It's over because I got pissy about some dude feeling you up right in front of me?"
"We're done, Kane. It was fun while it lasted."
With the fog in my head now clear, I leave the room without a word. This was supposed to be easy.
"Do you push everyone away?" Kane calls after me.
"Yes. I do."
I do it because he could be getting close enough to hurt me.
SEVENTEEN
London
For me, the hardest part of
being a twin is always being compared. It puts pressure on me to stand out. To be different and be my own person. Brooklyn and I take that to the extreme. Trying to stand out from the other forces our personalities.
We weren't one of those sets of twins with adorable matching stuff. I wondered, if our mom had lived, if we would have had identical pink cribs and matching baby blankets. We didn't get twin teddy bears or dolls growing up. We got one bear. One used doll with knotted hair. One crib. I'm surprised we never smothered each other.
There were few times in my life I felt jealous of Brooklyn. Mostly because one of us never had anything the other didn't. As long as we had each other, we didn't want for much else.
One of these rare moments was when I watched Miles kiss her last summer. I felt like he liked her more than me. He liked her enough to kiss her, knowing she never let herself fall in love. It made me feel less. That hurt, coming from someone I cared about so much.
Another time was when one of our friends in the eighth grade asked Brooklyn to enter the talent show with her. Granted, I wasn't a good dancer and would never be able to do it in front of the whole school, but I felt the envy. I wanted to be able to dance and be fearless like my sister.
Now, that sickening feeling weighs on me. Since moving here, our differences have become obvious. When we no longer need to cling to each other just to make it through the day, we are able to be ourselves. It's exactly what I wanted. I just never expected to feel so small and insignificant in Brooklyn's light.
In the bathroom, her makeup covers the counter. I look plain in the mirror while Brooklyn looks sexy and fierce when she gets herself ready. I prefer to hide behind the lens and watch beauty while she becomes it and lives without hiding.
I read about epic love and watch it from the outside. Always chasing but never catching. I don't even know what I would do if I did catch it. My photography allows me to watch and see love without all the ugliness and pain but also without all the joy and warmth. That used to be enough. Brooklyn teases it, pushes it away, and runs from it.
Brooklyn has the attention of Kane. She got to feel what it was like to have his hands on her because he wanted to feel her, not comfort her. It was Brooklyn whom he wanted so badly he fucked her hard enough that they broke furniture. I hate more than anything that I am jealous of that.
