#in plain sight | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

javier-pena · 1 year ago

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in plain sight, chapter ii

Pairing: Tommy Miller x f!reader | Joel Miller x Tess Servopoulos

Word Count: 9.7k (idk what happened there)

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Tommy invites you over to dinner and you meet a man you thought you'd never see again.

Notes: I know that no one updates stories as slowly as I do, considering I posted the first chapter all the way back in February. But this fic is on my mind constantly, and the one thing I'm always thinking about is Tess. So I hope I did her justice in this chapter - at least Dani @alexturner thinks so 🤭 and no spoilers, but the next chapter is going to be wild, so stick around ...

[Chapter I] [Masterlist] [Chapter III]

***

“When will you be back?”

The question makes you roll your eyes. “I don’t know,” you answer with a sigh. “He’s making dinner … I don’t know what he has planned.”

Your sister glances at the tidy front lawn, the grass neatly cut and dark green in the evening light, and beyond it at the bungalow with its cream-colored façade and dark gray roof. Behind the windows, light is burning, but you don’t see any movement.

“If you’re going to be later than ten, don’t count on me to pick you up.”

“I’m sure Tommy will drive me,” you reassure her. Those logistics aren’t even on your mind – you’re not counting on going back home tonight.

“Well, have fun,” your sister says, the look on her face telling you she thinks you’ll have anything but.

“Thanks,” you reply, checking your makeup in the tiny mirror in the sun visor before climbing out of the car.

Your high heels clack loudly against the driveway as you make your way past Tommy’s red pickup and a black one that probably belongs to his brother up to the front door. You’re very aware of your sister’s gaze on you – at least she didn’t comment on your outfit this time, but you know she wanted to. The dress you’re wearing is longer than the one you had on the last time you met Tommy, but it’s still tight, even though the skirt is slightly flared. You went for an innocent, floral pattern, hoping it would keep your sister from commenting, and it did. Still, you were anxious the whole drive that she would turn the car around and make you get changed.

Before you ring Tommy’s doorbell, you turn around and wave at your sister, a broad smile on your face. The last thing you need is for her to see Tommy sticking his tongue down your throat because you wouldn’t hear the end of it. But she’s set on staying until you’re safely inside. With a small sigh, you ring the doorbell and await your fate.

“Wow,” is the first thing Tommy says when he opens the door. He’s wearing jeans and a checkered shirt, a big belt buckle with a snake on it, and he’s holding a dishtowel in one hand. As soon as he’s standing in front of you, nothing else matters. “You’re …,” you see him swallow hard. “You’re beautiful.”

“And you’re very –,” you start, but he interrupts you by grabbing your wrist and pulling you inside. As soon as the door closes behind you, he presses you up against it and claims your mouth like a starved man. You’re dimly aware of a car speeding off.

It’s so easy to get lost in him for a while. One of your hands finds his chest, the other the back of his head. This is such a new experience for you, that things between the two of you are never awkward. There is no, “Hi”, no, “How have you been?”, no hesitation as you’re trying to figure out if Tommy missed you as much as you missed him. Every single time you see him it feels like a lightning strike, and every single time he sees you he treats you like you’re the most important person in his life. It takes some getting used to that this summer fling feels like the most grown-up relationship you’ve ever had.

“I missed you too,” you tease once he lets go of you, and you watch a flush creep onto his cheeks.

Tommy takes your hand and leads you toward the kitchen. It’s only then that you notice the smell of a charcoal grill. “Do you want somethin’ to drink?” he asks you. “Beer? Wine? Water? Juice? I have some sodas too.”

You laugh. “I’ll have a beer,” you answer, then kiss his cheek. “Don’t be so nervous.”

“I’m not nervous,” he protests with a huff but hides his face behind the refrigerator door.

You walk to the kitchen window and glance outside at the tidy backyard framed by a low, brown picket fence. There’s an unlit firepit in one corner, a smoking charcoal grill in the other, and in the middle there’s a table, already set for four people. You thought you’d have Tommy all to yourself tonight.

“My brother Joel is havin’ dinner with us,” Tommy says, handing you an ice-cold beer bottle. “He’s bringin’ his girlfriend Tess along. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not,” you answer with a shake of your head, but the truth is you do. Well, some warning would have been nice, at least. Maybe you wouldn’t have worn a dress that displays quite so much of your back. Maybe you would have worn more sensible shoes. Maybe you would have told your sister to pick you up at ten. And maybe you wouldn’t have counted on a romantic dinner followed by mind-blowing sex.

“Joel’s older than you, right?” you ask, swallowing your disappointment.

“That’s right.” Tommy laughs. “Don’t call him older to his face though.” He lowers his voice. “I’m not older, I’m more mature.”

Just like that your disappointment vanishes into thin air. “It has to be quite a few years. I don’t remember him from high school.”

Tommy takes a swig from a half empty beer bottle on the counter. “That’s because he graduated before I started. He’s five years older.”

You nod, quickly doing the math in your head. He has to be almost thirty then. “And you work together?” you ask next, but the last two words get drowned out by the sound of an engine growling like a pack of wolves.

“That’s them!” Tommy quickly empties his beer bottle. “Let me check on dinner real quick.”

You stand there, watching him hurry off into the backyard. Should you follow? Should you pretend to be busy in the kitchen? Does he expect you to greet Joel and his girlfriend (Tina, was it?) on your own? In the end, you find yourself walking back toward the living room, straightening your dress, tightly clutching your beer bottle. Meeting Tommy’s big brother … it sounds so official, like you’re taking the next step in this relationship.

Outside the living room window, a motorbike has pulled up in the driveway. It’s big and black and chrome, long enough for two people to sit behind each other, loud enough to alert the whole neighborhood. A man and a woman sit astride it, he in front, she holding onto him. They’re both wearing dark leather jackets and dark helmets, and big heavy boots, and you never felt so overdressed and like a fish out of water. They’re going to take one look at you and think you’re a silly little girl.

No! You straighten your back. This goes both ways. They probably want to make a good first impression just as much as you want to.

The woman takes off her helmet first and undoes her low ponytail that kept her long, auburn hair out of her face during the drive. She’s … you wouldn’t call her “pretty” but she’s stunning in a way that makes your mouth go dry. When she runs her fingers through her hair and laughs at something Joel says you wish you could just disappear. No matter what you do, you could never compete with someone like her. But when Joel takes off his helmet you know wishing you could disappear won’t be enough. You’ll have to find a way to actually do it. Because you know this man, there’s no doubt about that. You could never forget those eyes and the way his gaze pierced into yours while he was fucking a woman you couldn’t see. This is going to be the worst night of your life.

Joel unzips his jacket, exposing a tight, white shirt underneath it, while his girlfriend waves to a neighbor on the opposite side of the street. Then she holds out her hand for Joel to take and they walk toward the front door; she’s chatting away while he watches her, a neutral expression on his face.

It’s like that one time you were eight years old and your mom picked you up early from school because lunch had made you throw up. She was driving home along the freeway, switching radio stations and checking your temperature with the back of her hand pressed against your forehead. The car in front of you suddenly swerved to the left and into another car. It lifted into the air, spun around, and crashed down on its roof. Your mom screamed and veered off to the right, avoiding the wreck but almost landing in the guard rail.

The funny thing was you could see it all happening in slow motion, convinced that if you just focused enough, you could skip forward and backward in time, maybe even prevent the accident altogether. You weren’t scared, you didn’t cry; you thought your mom was overreacting when she stopped the car on the side of the freeway, her hands trembling uncontrollably. Later, you found out you were in shock, and later still you couldn’t stop crying until you threw up for the second time that day.

You’re convinced now that if you just focus enough, you could make those two people outside Tommy’s front door walk back to the motorbike and drive off. All you need to do is close your eyes and …

The front door opens and heavy footfalls make the ground beneath you shake. “Tommy?” a deep voice shouts and you flinch. “Tommy?” it repeats and then, in a softer tone, Joel says, “Oh, hey.”

You open your eyes. Joel has taken off his jacket and discarded it over the back of the couch. He has placed his helmet on the windowsill and is now looking at you with mild surprise on his face. “Hey,” he repeats, and you’re not sure whether it’s a greeting or a complaint. Then he closes the distance between you, easily wrangles the beer from your grip with a, “Thanks, sweetheart,” and then walks off into the kitchen.

He doesn’t remember. You’re not sure if you should feel relieved or disappointed.

“Hi, I’m Tess.” His girlfriend kisses you twice, once on each cheek. You heard about people greeting each other like that in Europe, but still your face heats up. “Don’t mind him, he’s annoyed because he just lost a bet.”

“What kind of bet?” you ask, the sound of your breathy voice foreign in your ears.

Tess takes off her jacket and places it on top of Joel’s before answering. “I bet him ten dollars you’d be pretty,” she says with a big smile. “He lost because he thinks no pretty girl in her right mind would go out with his brother.”

Then she takes your arm and leads you toward the backyard and the two men waiting for you.

*******

He doesn’t remember … but how could he not? How could last Friday not have meant anything to him? Shit! Does it mean something to you? It shouldn’t, should it? No, it definitely shouldn’t. But still, you wish he’d give you just one sign that he remembers.

Or maybe you’ve got it wrong. Maybe Joel isn’t the man from the other pick-up truck at all. Maybe Tommy has another brother, maybe he’s Joel’s identical twin. No, that’s ridiculous, this isn’t one of those soap operas your mom loves to watch. No one in real life has an evil twin.

“What are you smirkin’ at?” Tommy asks, handing you a bowl of potato salad.

Your cheeks heat up. “Nothing.”

Joel is the man from the other car, you’re certain about that. You keep coming back to how his eyes looked that night, how they look fixed on you now. It has to be him. Even though he’s relaxed and there’s an easy smile on his face, Joel looks at you as if he wants to see inside of you, right to your very core, and figure you out. And if he isn’t the man from the car, why would he be doing that?

And if he is, why did he brush you aside earlier?

You slump back in your chair. What were you expecting? Did you want him to say, “Oh, it’s you! Tess, it’s the girl who watched us fuck last week, do you remember?” Of course not. You want to forget the whole thing, pretend it never happened. It’s bad enough you let it happen in the first place, but it’s even worse now you know who that stranger is … he’s no stranger at all, he’s your boyfriend’s brother.

Boyfriend? Where did that come from?

“You okay?” Tommy squeezes your hand. “You barely touched your food.”

“I know what’s the matter,” Joel announces, and your entire body freezes up. You hear the blood rushing in your ears. “Now that she’s seen my bike, she’s realized she’s dating the wrong Miller brother.”

“Joel!” Tess protests, but laughs. Is she mocking you? She is, isn’t she?

Tommy rolls his eyes. “A man needs more than a bike to make him interestin’.”

“Like what?” Joel challenges. When Tommy opens his mouth, he quickly adds, “No, never mind, whatever it is you ain’t got it.”

Tommy lets go of your hand (you hadn’t even realized he was still holding it) and turns to Tess, who is sitting opposite you. She’s trying to hide a smirk, but she’s failing miserably. “Tess, please control my brother.”

“I’m sorry they’re like that,” Tess says, ignoring Tommy. “You’ll get used to it though.”

Joel turns to you. “Do you have siblings?”

You sit up so fast you bump your knee into the table and topple over your beer bottle. “Shit!” you swear. “Sorry. Let me –,” but Tess stands up.

“Don’t worry about it.” And she’s off to the kitchen.

You don’t want her to clean up your mess so you make to follow her, but Joel pins you in place with a glare. “Well? Do you?”

“Do I what?” you ask, watching Tess come back with a roll of paper towels.

“Siblings,” Tommy says with a laugh. Then he turns to Joel. “Yes, she has an older sister. She’s even less of a people person than you.”

“Well, this one could do with a little loosening up herself.” Joel nods toward you.

Your stomach curls tight with annoyance, but before you can say anything, Tommy replies, “She’s pretty loose, thank you.”

Tess, mopping up your spilled beer, throws you a pitying glance. “Guys, stop embarrassing her.”

“They’re not,” you say quickly, but it gets swallowed by Tommy shouting, “I’m embarrassin’ her?”

Joel winks at you and you wish the ground beneath your chair would open up and swallow you whole. He has to remember, right? And he’s tormenting you to test you or to get you to crack. You just can’t figure out why.

You clear your throat. “I have two older sisters,” you say, and when Tommy raises his eyebrows in surprise, you quickly add, “One lives in Europe, and I never get to see her. My parents … they had a falling out, and she doesn’t talk to any of us.”

Tess squeezes your shoulder sympathetically before going back to the kitchen to discard the used paper towels. Tommy and Joel glance at each other, unsure of what to say. You didn’t mean to make them feel uncomfortable with your complicated family dynamics, but you do feel some subdued glee at their speechlessness.

When Tess comes back, none of you have said anything yet. “I think every good family should have drama,” she says, sitting down in Joel’s lap instead of her chair. “There’s no point in surrounding yourself with boring people.”

Joel tickles her and she squeals. “Says the only child whose parents would do anything for her.”

You look at Tommy, a question on your lips, one you haven’t asked yet because it didn’t seem important in the whirlwind of the last few weeks. But before you can ask it, Tess changes the subject.

“So, how’s college?”

This time, you manage not to jump out of your skin when being addressed. “How do you know I’m in college?”

“Because Tommy boy can’t shut up about you,” Joel answers, flicking a potato wedge at his brother.

“Hey!” Tommy protests loudly, but to you it sounds like he’s far away, maybe somewhere below water. You try to focus on something solid, like the plate in front of you, but everything is blurry. You’re feeling about a million feelings at once, and yet your inside is an empty void that is longing for something to fill it. Tommy has been talking about you to Joel and Tess. A lot, apparently. And yet here you are, your head spinning from the cocky way Joel teases his brother, the protective way he holds onto Tess, longing for his attention on you. This is wrong.

“It’s good,” you answer Tess’ question, taking a sip from a fresh bottle of beer that makes you cough.

“That’s it?” Tess asks. “What are you studying? Where do you live? Do you have a college boyfriend who dreams about you raising his babies?”

You laugh loudly and Tess beams. “I don’t know what Tommy told you about me, but one man is about as much as I can handle.” You smile at Tommy. “He’s all I need.” Tommy’s chest swells with pride. “But I live in a dorm, and I want to go on to law school.”

“Wow.” Tess sounds genuinely impressed, but there’s a strange glint in her eyes. “We have to watch what we say around you then.”

“As if the law has ever kept you from doing what you want,” Joel teases.

“Oh, shut up.” Tess laughs and kisses him, hard, a hand in his dark curls. Joel’s eyes flutter shut, and your stomach flutters in response.

Tommy clears his throat and you jump. “We have company.”

Tess bites Joel’s bottom lip and you think you hear him growl. “What are you, my mom?”

For some reason, Tommy’s comment rubbed you the wrong way. You’re not a child. You can handle two people kissing in front of you. “I’ve been to frat parties,” you laugh. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Tess lets go of Joel’s hair. “Really? What was it like? I always wanted to go to one.”

“They can be fun,” you answer cautiously, glancing at Tommy. “But they’re also … if you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all.”

“So they’re not like in the movies?” Tess presses. “You know, strippers and booze and then someone draws a gun?”

Joel turns to her, one eyebrow cocked. “What kind of movies are you watching?”

“Never you mind.” She pats his cheek.

“There are no strippers and no guns,” you answer seriously as if you’re used to answering questions like that. “But there’s a lot of alcohol. That’s why they’re all the same. People get drunk, punch each other, and then throw up.”

“Sounds like a typical Tuesday night for us, doesn’t it, Joel?” Tommy winks at his big brother.

“Can you take me to a frat party?” Tess asks suddenly. You’re not sure if she’s mocking you, but her face is serious.

“I …,” you start slowly, not sure what to say.

“Oh, come on.” Tess laughs. “You’ll be the most popular girl, bringing a cool older woman like me.”

Now that you know she’s mocking you, it’s easy for you to play along. “I don’t think those frat boys are into older women,” you say with an apologetic smile.

Tess’ mouth falls open. “You’re just gonna let her talk to me like that?” she asks, turning to Joel.

Joel shrugs, then looks directly at you. The hairs at the back of your neck stand up. “I like her. I think she’s funny.”

*******

“Sorry about my brother,” Tommy says, a crooked smile on his lips. “And Tess.”

It’s later. You’ve moved from the backyard into the living room. The heat of the June day still lingers in the slight headache you have, but it’s nice and cool inside. Still, your cheeks feel hot to the touch and you’re lightheaded, your heart hammering in your chest, even as your head is comfortably resting against Tommy’s shoulder. It’s the heat, you tell yourself. Nothing more. Certainly not Tommy’s brother who watched you come a week ago and doesn’t even remember it.

You laugh. “It’s alright. I like them.”

You do. It’s not important that your stomach curls tightly whenever Tess touches Joel. That’s an understandable, reasonable reaction, one no one could blame you for, one you can easily ignore. It’s not important. It doesn’t matter. What’s more important is the fact that you’ve survived the dinner without embarrassing yourself, that the panic you felt when recognizing Joel was completely unfounded. You did well, all things considered, and there is absolutely no reason why Tommy should ever find out about your little secret.

You lean in closer to him. “Do you think Tess likes me?” you ask.

He shifts against your cheek. “What makes you say that?”

“She was making fun of me, right? When she asked me to take her to a frat party?”

Now it’s Tommy’s turn to laugh. “No, she was completely serious. Tess has a very … direct way that makes her sound like she’s not being serious. But believe me, you’d notice if she wouldn’t like you. She’s also very direct with that.”

“And Joel?” you ask carefully.

Tommy slings his arm around your shoulder and pulls you closer. “Joel is … he’s … he’s very protective of me. It’s annoying, believe me, but it always takes him a while to warm up when I bring someone home.”

Your heart stutters. “Protective? How?”

“He doesn’t want me to get hurt. As if I can’t take care of myself.”

“Has that happened before?” you ask carefully, but you might as well have asked the wall. Tommy doesn’t reply, he doesn’t even shake his head or shrug his shoulders. Maybe that’s a conversation for another time.

“I think I’m gonna get myself another beer,” Tommy finally says, and shifts to get up.

“No,” you protest. “Let me. I wanted to get one for myself anyway.”

You stand, and Tommy smirks up at you. “I could get used to that.”

“Well, don’t.” You give him a quick peck on the lips. “I’ll be right back.”

You make your way to the kitchen, taking pleasure in Tommy’s wistful sigh as you walk out of sight. He probably has been hurt in the past, you decide, but that doesn’t stop him from opening himself up to another person. Is that fun summer fling you wanted to have about to get much more serious than you had planned? At the threshold to the kitchen, you turn around to look back at Tommy lounging on the couch and return his soft smile. You’re not prepared for anything more serious between the two of you, but that doesn’t mean you can’t do your best to treat Tommy right.

The kitchen isn’t empty. Tess is standing by the sink, taking care of the dishes. Maybe you should feel bad for not having offered to help her, but it’s obvious your help isn’t wanted. Behind Tess there’s Joel, pressing his chest into her back, holding her tightly against his body. Tess makes a sound somewhere between a laugh and a moan when Joel nuzzles her neck and simultaneously moves an open palm downward against her stomach. You stop, your smile frozen on your lips, your hands cold and clammy, balled into fists against your sides. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before (and what is there to see, really?), but you should leave or make your presence known at the very least. You don’t.

Joel bites down onto Tess’ neck and she gasps. You almost do too, but the sound gets stuck in your throat. Joel’s other hand finds its way to Tess’ throat and he lightly closes his fingers around it, moving her head to the side so he has better access to her neck. Her neck disappears under his broad palm and big fingers and your chest tightens with adrenaline. You hadn’t noticed the size of his hands before but suddenly it’s all you can think about. That, and what it would feel like to have them around your neck, to feel the callouses on his fingers against your skin, to feel the heat radiating off of him.

With a low growl, Joel presses his crotch against Tess’ backside and she sighs. You feel both sounds all over your body; it’s as if Joel and Tess aren’t caressing each other but you. You wonder what it would feel like to … You take a step forward and bump your foot into a box that’s stowed against the wall. Its contents rattle insistently and Tess straightens her back, her head snapping in your direction.

You can’t read the look on her face but you know you’d feel embarrassed if someone caught you and Tommy in such an intimate situation.

“Joel,” she says. Is it a warning?

Maybe he doesn’t hear her, or maybe he doesn’t care, but he doesn’t stop. The hand that’s been resting against Tess’ stomach moves lower and lower, and you can’t really tell from where you’re standing but it looks like his fingers are disappearing inside her jeans. And she’s still looking at you, her green eyes sharp in the dim kitchen light. What should you do? Stay and watch? You almost laugh at the ridiculousness of that idea, pushing aside an ever-growing desire to do just that, but there’s also something else – an irritation bordering on jealousy that you have no right to be feeling. The smart thing to do here would be to avert your gaze, get the beers from the fridge, and leave.

But then two things happen at once and you can’t move a single muscle in your body.

The first one is that Joel’s fingers inside Tess’ pants must’ve reached their destination and she moans, her eyes still locked to yours. Then she nods at you and smiles and you think … you think she might be telling you to join them. That thought terrifies you. You won’t cheat on your boyfriend who’s waiting for you only a room away, but there is an insistent pressure between your legs that’s harder and harder to ignore.

The second thing that happens is that Joel whispers in Tess’ ear, loud enough for you to hear. “I know, baby. You’re doing so well. You’re drenched, do you know that?” The way he says drenched captures your attention much more than Tess’ presumed invitation ever could. He knows you’re there, he must know it, and yet he … A hungry, growling desire awakens in you and you realize that no matter how hard you try, you can’t play down the encounter in the parking lot; you can’t even walk away from this, even if it would be so easy.

“Joel …” Tess’ eyes flutter shut when he cups one of her breasts with his big hand.

You want to say his name too, want to make him look at you, but then Tess’ fingers go slack and she drops the cutlery she’s been holding into the sink. It hits the steel with loud clanks and shakes you out of your stupor. Hot shame rolls through your stomach and up into your throat, settling there in the form of a lump. You stumble toward the fridge on unsteady legs like a newborn fawn, ignoring Tess’ giggles and Joel’s breathless pants that could also be a chuckle. You grab two beer bottles and rush out of the kitchen without looking back.

The last thing you hear is Tess saying, “Shit, Joel. Do you think we scared her?” and Joel replying, “Who cares?”

*******

The joint between your lips helps you relax and you sink deeper into the couch, hoping it will swallow you up. Tommy takes it from you and takes a drag, sighing happily. It doesn’t matter, really, that Joel and Tess don’t like you, that they were trying to rile you up. Let them think you’re young and stupid and inexperienced. What does it matter to you? You giggle and pull Tommy, who was just trying to pass the joint to Joel, toward you. You take it back instead and inhale deeply.

“Careful, darlin’.” Tommy laughs. “Ain’t no need to impress me.”

You ignore him and kiss him instead, letting him taste the sweet aroma of the weed on your lips. He returns your kiss but takes the joint from you and finally passes it on to Joel who’s sitting on a chaise longue, legs spread widely, Tess on his lap. You don’t know what happened between them after you left the kitchen, but the flush on Tess’ cheeks when they finally emerged left no room for imagination. You feel a stab of jealousy.

“First time?” Joel asks you with a smirk.

You shake your head. “I’m not as innocent as you think.”

Joel’s eyes glide over your body, from your relaxed eyelids down to your exposed thighs where your dress has ridden up your legs. “Who said anything about innocent?”

“I know you think I’m young and stupid.” Under different circumstances, the words might have sounded like you were hurt but the big smile you can’t seem to turn off softens the blow.

Joel laughs, and it sounds real. At least the flutter in your stomach is real. “I don’t,” he says. “But it’s funny you should think that.” He places his hand possessively on Tess’ knee and Tess leans into him. “I’m just making sure you’re alright. And that you’re not getting yourself into a situation you can’t handle.”

You wrinkle your nose. “I can handle more than you think.”

“Oh, I’d like to see that,” Joel teases.

Next to you, Tommy sighs. “Can you flirt with your own girlfriend, please?”

Your reaction to the weed dampens the feeling of shame that would have consumed you had you been sober. Joel tightens his hold on Tess and Tess closes her eyes, a happy smile on her lips. Is she saying, “He’s mine”? He is, that’s obvious. She doesn’t have to rub it in though. Wait. Why do you care? You’re with Tommy … you don’t care who Joel is fucking.

“If that’s flirting to you, I’m surprised you got her to agree to go out with you,” Joel retorts.

Her … why does your stomach flutter when he talks about you like you’re not in the room? You turn to Tommy, a seductive smile on your lips … or at least you hope it looks like that. “Tommy’s very good at flirting … he had me wrapped around his little finger in no time.”

Tommy kisses you and you close your eyes to focus on the glide of his lips against yours. He manages to sneak a hand between your shoulders and the backrest of the couch, and cups the back of your head, pressing you closer to him. You melt, forgetting why you felt so irritated and somewhat lost only a few seconds ago.

But then Joel’s voice bursts your warm and happy bubble. “That’s just because you’ve never dated a real man before.”

“Joel,” Tess warns, but you’re already confronting him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask, your chin raised in defiance.

Joel’s eyes flicker with triumph at how easy it is to get a rise out of you, and you wish you had ignored him. But it’s too late to go back to making out with Tommy and pretending you haven’t heard him.

“You’re what … 19? How many boyfriends have you had? And they were probably kids like you.”

Your face heats up with anger but before you can say, “Why is everyone so obsessed with my dating history?” Tommy snaps, “That’s enough, Joel.”

You watch as Joel’s shoulders tense and for a moment you expect him to ignore his brother but then he laughs. “I’m just messing with her.”

For some reason, you focus on Tess’ confused face – not Tommy sinking back against the cushions or Joel’s raised palms. She looks as lost as you feel.

“Wouldn’t hurt you to be nice for a change,” Tommy grumbles.

Tess leans forward and extends her hand holding the joint out to you. You take it from her with a grateful smile, your hands briefly touching over the coffee table. “Thanks,” you whisper.

“Tommy’s right,” Tess says and looks down at her boyfriend. “Relax, Joel.” And before Joel can protest, her hand is on his jaw and she kisses him. Just like before, his eyes flutter shut, and just as before, your stomach flutters in response. You ignore it, the irritation you feel now palpable in a pressure on your chest.

“He ain’t always like that.” Tommy’s voice is low as he plucks the joint straight out from between your lips. “He’s –”

“Hey!” you protest. “I wasn’t done with that yet.”

Tommy only smirks at you, takes a drag, then passes it on to Joel. “He’s quite nice once you get to know him.”

Joel snorts. “You make me sound like a dog.”

“Well, you’re behaving like one,” you snap.

Everyone turns to you and you clap a hand over your mouth in shock. You hadn’t meant to say that out loud, hadn’t even meant to think it. It must be the weed talking. Or the alcohol. But you haven’t had much of either.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, bracing yourself for the inevitable cruel response.

Joel only laughs, his chest vibrating, head thrown back. “Please, you have nothing to apologize for,” he snorts between two laughing fits. Tess smiles, whether at your discomfort or his amusement you can’t tell. Tommy puts one possessive arm around your shoulders. Joel manages to catch his breath eventually. “Where did you find her, Tommy?”

When Tommy doesn’t respond, you turn to him. His face has gone dark, and you feel like you’re missing something. “Joel, that’s enough,” he repeats and you don’t quite understand what’s going on.

Joel sighs. “Oh, come on, Tommy.” He drags on the joint with practice movement, then passes it on to Tess without looking at her.

After that, everyone is quiet. Is it your fault? Is Joel angrier at you than he lets on? But why is Tommy staring at his older brother like he’s planning on slashing the tires of Joel’s truck later? You don’t quite know how to save the evening but you have to try.

“We went to high school together actually,” you answer Joel’s question. You lean into Tommy. “I had the biggest crush on him but he never noticed me.”

Joel smirks mockingly, but it’s over in a flash. “He can’t keep his eyes off you now.”

A warm tingling sensation crawls down your spine. “Well, he ain’t half bad to look at himself.”

“He has your full attention then?” There’s something in the way he says it that makes your blood run cold. And for the first time since Joel walked in through the front door this evening you wonder if he might remember after all.

“I enjoy every minute I spend with him, if that’s what you mean,” you answer.

Before Joel can make things worse, Tess climbs off his lap and stands. “I’m going to the bathroom.” Then she looks at you. “Are you coming?” she says with such authority you don’t even have time to think about it before you find yourself following her down the hallway.

Tess pulls you into the bathroom and closes the door behind you. “Listen to me,” she starts. “I love Joel but he can be an asshole. Especially where Tommy is concerned. I don’t know if Tommy has told you this, but their parents died young and Joel feels responsible for him. He thinks no girl is good enough for Tommy. Ignore him. I can see the way Tommy looks at you. Everyone can.”

You’re stunned into silence by Tess’ words, but the longer you wait to say something, the denser the tension between you grows. “We’re just having fun,” is what finally comes out of your mouth.

“And Tommy knows that?” Tess presses.

“We haven’t talked about it yet.” Or have you? You don’t remember everything you said to him in the heat of the moment. “But I’m going back to college in the fall.”

“No one is trying to keep you here,” Tess assures you. “And if Tommy is just after a summer romance, then that’s none of Joel’s business. Just be honest with him. And don’t hurt him.”

“I wasn’t planning to.” Then why does guilt gnaw at your conscience?

Tess smiles at you softly, unaware of the churning in your stomach. “I know you weren’t. Just don’t dump Tommy because his big brother was weird to you.” She grabs one of your hands and squeezes it. Then she opens the door and winks at you. “But I know you’re too smart for that anyway.”

You have a few seconds, no more, to try and make sense of it all. You fail. Your feelings are all over the place and you wish you could sit down somewhere quiet for a few hours and sort through them. Why does it feel like everyone expects certain things from you and you can’t seem to keep them in their place because you have no idea what you want yourself? When did this summer fling get so serious?

Before you can find an answer for just one of these questions, Tommy is calling for you, and you make your way back to the living room, your heart hammering in your chest.

*******

You wake up with a start. At first, you think you’re back in your college dorm, but your surroundings don’t make sense. The dresser is standing against the wrong wall, the window isn’t where it’s supposed to be, the bed is so big … and you’re not sleeping in it alone. You’re at Tommy’s place! The world rights itself as you regain your sense of direction. It’s so dark in Tommy’s bedroom that you can barely make out the shapes of the objects around you. It must still be the middle of the night or very early in the morning, but you can’t be certain.

Your head hurts, your mouth is sticky with thirst, and you have no memory of how you ended up in Tommy’s bed. You remember that dinner, you remember Tess asking you to be careful not to hurt Tommy, you remember Tommy’s hand under the hem of your dress, his hand climbing higher and higher, the way Joel looked at you … You inhale sharply, and Tommy stirs but doesn’t wake up.

You need to get some water. Once you’re not thirsty anymore, it’ll be easier to make sense of it all. Carefully, you climb out of the bed, your eyes glued to Tommy’s naked chest to make sure you don’t wake him. The last thing you need is some deep talk at 2 AM that has you making promises you can’t keep just because the late hour makes you feel closer to Tommy than ever before. Tommy sleeps on though, even when you open the bedroom door with a creak that makes you jump.

Outside, the dark hallway reminds you of how unfamiliar you are with Tommy’s house. Yes, this isn’t your first time sleeping here, but the last time you weren’t trying to find the kitchen in the middle of the night, sneaking around the house like a burglar. Maybe Tommy’s bathroom is the safer option if you don’t want to wake everyone. You remember it being on the right of Tommy’s bedroom.

You haven’t taken more than three steps before you hear it – the creaking of a bedframe. At first you think Tommy has woken up but he doesn’t call out for you. And then you realize the creaking is coming from the other bedroom – Joel’s bedroom.

No! It’s no business of yours to find out what’s going on behind that door, no business at all. You’re going to get some water and then you’re going back to bed. For once you’re going to follow your sensible brain and not …

There is a soft moan your body immediately responds to by setting butterflies loose in your stomach. The voice that says, “No,” is fighting, but it’s growing weaker. Your hand on the bathroom doorknob feels sweaty but you make no motion to turn it, listening into the quietness of the house. For a short while, everything remains quiet and you think maybe all you heard was someone moving in their sleep. You feel a hot wave of embarrassment when you realize you’re disappointed – what is wrong with you? You should feel relieved instead.

It’s the drugs and the alcohol that make you feel and think and act like this. Once you’ve sobered up, everything else will be fine. One hand pressed against the bathroom door to prevent any creaking when you open it, you finally turn the knob, suddenly missing the warmth and comfort of Tommy’s bed. Just a quick glass of water and then you’ll be back with him, falling asleep in an instant.

It’s not the creaking or the moaning that makes you halt in the doorframe, but it’s the deep rumble of Joel’s voice this time. You can’t make out the words, but they still make you freeze, dry up your throat and set your heart pounding. There is no way you will be able to ignore that, not with your mind still clouded and your body humming with a desire impossible to control.

The bathroom door quivers when you let go of the knob but doesn’t fall shut. Nothing seems to be moving in the house except you, as you carefully tiptoe to Joel’s bedroom door. You don’t know what it looks like, that room behind it. Tommy didn’t include it in the house tour and you’re not one to snoop. You giggle at how wrong you were about yourself, but there’s no merriment in it, just a dry realization. There is only so much you can blame on drugs and alcohol.

“You like that, don’t you?”

Joel’s voice hits you in the pit of your stomach like a bullet. Before you know what you’re doing, your ear is pressed against the thin plywood, eager to hear more.

Tess’ answer is an appreciative moan that rushes down your back in a pleasant shiver. The bedframe creaks again before she sighs, “Oh, Joel! Fuck!” and then gasps as if coming up for air.

You almost gasp too, but the sound gets stuck in your throat when you hear Joel chuckle. “You’re making this too easy for me.”

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” Tess begs, and in her eagerness makes it all sound like one long word.

What comes next is a series of wet sounds mixed in with Tess’ moans and pants. It’s only when Joel moans too, and it’s a muffled sound that you realize what it is they’re doing. You press and open palm against the door to steady yourself while your other hand hangs down at your side, your fingers flexing eagerly. Your core feels like it’s on fire and when Tess sighs, “Yes, yes,” and Joel growls like he’s too far gone for human sounds, you whimper desperately. But you won’t touch yourself, no matter what, you won’t …

“No, no, no, Joel, don’t stop,” Tess suddenly groans and Joel replies, “I don’t want you to come yet. You taste like heaven.”

Maybe a stronger woman would be able to walk away from this. Maybe a stronger woman wouldn’t press her fingers against her clothed clit and swallow a dry sob of relief. Maybe a stronger woman would feel guilt and shame. But you’re not that woman. And you have never felt this alive.

Tess whimpers and groans and the bedframe creaks and creaks. Joel is eerily quiet now except for the occasional sigh. And you don’t dare to move; only when you hear his voice do you press your fingers tighter against your clit. It makes you feel closer to him.

Tess’ moans are slowly but surely reaching another crescendo, the bedframe seems to be fighting for its life, and you exhale shakily when –

“Do you like what you hear?”

You twist around so fast your elbow bumps into Joel’s door, but they don’t hear the noise or they don’t care, because the sounds don’t die down.

“Tommy,” you whisper, your face burning with the shame and guilt you were supposed to feel earlier.

He’s leaning against the doorframe of his own bedroom door, arms crossed in front of his chest, hair rumpled from sleeping. He doesn’t look angry or disappointed or disgusted. Instead, there’s a cocksure grin on his face that you can’t read properly in the darkness of the hallway.

“Again, darlin’, do you like what you hear?” he repeats.

Your throat is completely dry and you don’t dare to move, afraid your legs might give way if you do. Tess’ moans fill the silence between Tommy and you; they heat up your cheeks and make it impossible for you to form a single, coherent thought. A single, coherent thought that would get you out of this situation unscathed that is.

“Yes,” you answer breathlessly, as if you just climbed innumerable flights of stairs. Your heart beats as if you did, too.

The cocksure grin on Tommy’s face doesn’t flicker. “Thought so,” he says with a superior tone, as if he just proved a point. “Knew you weren’t as innocent as all that.”

You wish he would keep his voice down. “But it’s not what you think it is.”

“It’s exactly what I think it is.” He takes a few steps toward you until you feel trapped between his body in front of you and the lewd sounds behind you. “I’m sure they’d let you watch if you asked.”

That same terror you felt in the kitchen earlier grabs a hold of you again. “I don’t –” you start but Tommy interrupts you.

“You’re allowed to want that,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, breath hot. “Doesn’t mean I’m willing to share you.” His hand closes tightly around your wrist and when he pulls you toward his own bedroom with sure steps, you stumble after him. The moans have stopped and, with a slight irritation, you realize you miss them. When you pause to close the door behind you, Tommy takes your other hand in his and shakes his head. “Leave it.” Those two words send a bolt of excitement through you, the irritation forgotten.

Tommy pushes you onto the bed, not forcefully but not gently either, and you lie there, propped up on your elbows, watching him. His naked chest is heaving, and even though his words were nothing but steady, a storm is brewing inside of him. A shiver runs down your spine as he pushes back his hair with both hands, his eyes flickering lower to where you let your knees fall open for him.

“You’re so fuckin’ hot,” he sighs, falling onto his knees at the foot of the bed.

You’ve been called other things before, more eloquent things, but never before have you actually believed those words. With Tommy it’s different. With Tommy, you feel like he means what he says and isn’t just using lines on you that he picked up from a bad porn movie. You take off your underwear without him having to ask.

His left hand lands on top of your right thigh, his skin warm against yours, the callouses on his thumb brushing against one of the most sensitive spots of your body. You flex your fingers, fighting hard to keep your hips steady. With his right thumb, Tommy brushes all the way from your opening through your drenched folds up to your clit in a slow pace, as if he’s cataloguing every inch along the way. Self-consciously, you trap a desperate groan in your chest by biting down hard on your bottom lip.

Tommy laughs incredulously. “You’re drenched, you know that?”

It’s not the first time tonight you hear those words, the memory making your hips twitch against Tommy’s grip. You nod.

“Should I be jealous?” he asks and you sit up so fast something in your neck cracks.

“No!” you blurt.

Tommy chuckles. “I’m just teasin’ you. Nothin’ wrong with a bit of healthy competition.”

Maybe your attraction to Joel isn’t all that bad, you think, lying back down, eyes firmly fixed on the dark ceiling. Maybe it’s something Tommy wants to encourage even.

Tommy’s thumb is circling your clit now, and you feel yourself clenching around nothing. With a soft moan, you try to relax against the mattress but can’t stop yourself from listening for sounds from the other bedroom.

“Relax, darlin’.” Tommy presses a soft kiss against the side of your knee, then rests his cheek against it. “Let me hear how much you’re enjoyin’ yourself.” Then he adds, under his breath, “Let them hear.”

When he pushes a finger into you, you groan loudly, but immediately bite down on your wrist to stifle that sound.

“Come now, none of that,” Tommy says. “Don’t you want to get back at them?”

There is something in the way he says it that makes you pause. For a few moments, you allow yourself to imagine Tess, lying in Joel’s arms, giggling at something funny he just said, the sounds dying in her throat when she hears you groan. Maybe she would tell Joel to be quiet, startled by your gall, maybe Joel would pretend not to care but secretly commit every single one of your sighs to memory, no matter how little. Maybe he’d even be impressed with you, telling Tess, “Sounds like Tommy finally has a fun girlfriend”.

What you want him to be, though, is jealous.

Tommy adds a second finger and this time you don’t try to stifle the sound that escapes you. You shift, so Tommy can reach deeper, transfixed by the wet sounds of his fingers moving between your legs. You meet Tommy’s thrusts with small rolls of your hips, eager for friction, panting under your breath. Your forehead feels clammy with sweat, the air in the room is stifling, but you don’t care about any of that when Tommy licks from where his fingers are buried inside of you up to your clit, the sensation of his mustache brushing against your most sensitive spots overwhelming.

Still, you’re not all there. Your ears keep straining to hear sounds from the room across the hall, any sounds. You’d be happy with a door creaking in its hinges. At the same time, you’re reluctant to give voice to the pleasure you’re feeling, no matter what Tommy told you, no matter how much you want to be that girlfriend. What if Tess isn’t impressed? What if Joel isn’t jealous? What if they’re over there, laughing at you? What if –

“Darlin’,” Tommy mumbles from between your legs, “you’re thinkin’ so loud I can barely focus.”

“Sorry.” You shift with a sigh, forcing your thoughts to focus on Tommy’s fingers in a way that usually makes you turn into an incoherent mess. Tommy kisses your thigh, the prickle of his mustache making you squirm. “Don’t you ever apologize to me. Just tell me what you need.”

To your annoyance, his kindness makes your eyes sting with tears. “I don’t know,” you whimper.

“Close your eyes,” Tommy orders.

You do as you’re told. The loss of one sense makes your others heighten immediately, especially your hearing. To both your relief and disappointment, you don’t hear any sounds from Joel’s room.

“Stop thinking.” Tommy chuckles. “Tell me how this feels.”

He changes the angle his fingers push into you, stretching you with each slow thrust. It feels amazing. You tell him so.

“Shhhh,” Tommy makes. “Don’t use your words. Tell me with your body.”

“I don’t –,” you start, but he interrupts you.

“Yes, you know how. Just give it a try.”

It’s only then that you realize how desperate you are for him to hold you in place and make you take whatever he gives you. That thought alone is enough to make you shiver.

“Good,” Tommy encourages you. “Now –”

It’s your turn to interrupt him. “Hold me down,” you say so fast it makes it sound like just one word.

Tommy obliges you immediately, pushing you down, palm planted firmly on your hip. You groan in response, your worries from earlier only a dim memory at the back of your mind.

“You like that, huh?” He gives you three vicious thrusts before slowing down again, leaving you gasping for breath.

You sigh in confirmation, but your voice breaks in the middle of the sound, making it come out like a sob. Your hips twitch against Tommy’s hold, eager to meet his thrusts halfway.

“Stop moving.” Tommy squeezes you hard. “You’ll take what I give you.”

Your responding moan is loud enough to make Tommy lose his rhythm, but not loud enough to satisfy him.

“We could do a bit better, don’t you think?”

You shake your head. “I don’t know.” You feel the pressure of a mounting orgasm brushing against the base of your spine. Your heart is beating so loudly, all the way up into your throat, that you couldn’t hear any sounds from the other bedroom even if you tried.

Suddenly, Tommy’s fingers are gone, and so is the hand on your hip. You sob with longing. “Tommy …”

“I’m here,” he mumbles, climbing onto the bed. “Just give me a sec.”

You watch as he rolls a condom onto his completely hard cock, and swallow hard. For some reason, the evidence of how much he’s enjoying this leaves you speechless. Still kneeling, he pulls you toward him and right onto his lap. He’s so much bigger than two of his fingers, but in your heightened state of arousal him pushing you down onto his cock barely scratches a superficial itch.

“It’s your turn now.” Tommy’s smile rekindles the prickling at the base of your spine.

You roll your hips tentatively and immediately feel the pressure mount. Tommy’s eyes flutter shut and he groans, a sound you can feel deep within your core.

“Fuck.” The word slips out from between your lips before you can stop it. And Tommy’s eyes fly open.

“What was that?” he growls.

Now it’s your turn to ask, “You like that?”

Tommy wraps his hand around your throat, framing your jaw with his thumb and forefinger. You roll your hips faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the bedroom. You don’t need him to reply; you know the answer already.

Tommy brushes his thumb along your bottom lip and then pushes it into your mouth, pressing it down against your tongue. Eagerly, you close your lips and suck on it, watching as Tommy’s eyes widen in surprise. The air between you is so heavy you can feel it weigh you down and you lose your rhythm, your hips stuttering.

With a jerk, Tommy pulls his thumb out of your mouth. “Look at you.” He tightens his hold on your throat, making you gasp for air, before pushing his index and middle finger back into your mouth. When you taste yourself on his skin, you moan, a sound that turns into a gag when he brushes his fingers against the back of your throat. “Joel is wrong. There’s nothin’ innocent about you.”

The mention of his brother catches you by surprise, as does that moan that rises out of your chest when you imagine Joel looking at you with condescension in his eyes. Luckily, Tommy flicks your clit with his thumb at the same time, giving you an excuse for the lewd sound you’re making.

Tommy eagerly licks his lips. “Louder,” he demands. “I don’t care that they’re in the other room.”

You wrap your hand around Tommy’s arm to steady yourself, your body screaming for release. All you manage is a soft moan, muffled by the fingers pressing down on your tongue.

“You can do better than that.” The note of condescension in his voice makes you clench around his cock. “Let them hear how well I’m fucking you.”

With a sob, your head falls forward, your forehead connecting to Tommy’s almost painfully. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth while rolling your clit under his thumb at the same time, and you lose yourself in whines and groans and pleas that don’t make any sense. You can’t even tell if you’re being loud enough for Tommy, if they hear you across the hall, but just the thought that they might, so daunting a short while ago, finally pushes you over the edge. All you know with absolute certainty is that you scream Tommy’s name when you come, loud enough to wake the whole neighborhood, and that he fucks you through it relentlessly, lowering you down with one smooth motion until your back is pressed into the mattress and he pounds into you with desperate thrusts.

“Tommy,” you groan, holding onto his hips. It’s too much; you want him to stop but you can’t form a single, coherent thought. “Tommy, I don’t …” You feel raw, coming down from the high of your orgasm, but he isn’t done with you yet.

“You’re mine,” he growls into your ear. “Say it.”

Despite your guardedness when it comes to this relationship between Tommy and you, and despite your refusal to apply a label to it, you catch yourself replying, “I’m yours, Tommy. Just yours.”

With that, he empties himself into the condom, twitching inside of you. He kisses you, you kiss him back, your muscles relaxing around him. And from somewhere in the house you think you hear bright laughter.

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