Then Summer Came Page 8

  "Glad to see her, too." Beck cut me off and pulled me into him tighter. I just looked up at him confused. Emily clapped out her excitement and danced away goofily. Beck looked back down at me, and I squirmed out of his grip.

  "Why'd you let her think you were Derek?" I demanded. He looked at his empty arms like I'd offended him and then crossed them over his chest.

  “Why’d you let her think I was Derek at the club?” he countered.

  I slugged his shoulder when he tried changing the subject. "Answer me!”

  "Well I couldn't do this if she thought I was me." He swiped me back into his chest and started to dance with me. I pushed him but he locked his hands around me.

  "You're a douche," I growled.

  "You didn't answer me," he leaned in and whispered in my ear.

  "What?"

  "Are you sure you aren't attracted to me?"

  "I'm positive!" I slipped out of his grasp and walked a crooked path to the nearest punch bowl. I dipped a cup into the mystery liquid and downed it. I grabbed a handful of olives, and I saw Beck come up beside me, out of the corner of my eye.

  I turned to insult him before he started in again, but he was lip locked with a black-headed harlot in a slutty police getup. She had her leg hiked up around his, and she was kissing him violently. I saw her tongue as it slid in and out of his mouth. She seemed far more into their embrace than he was; his hands just kind of hung at his sides.

  "Excuse me," I said before I’d even realized it. I pushed her as hard as I could, and she stumbled back and cursed me. "That's my fiancé!" I shouted back, pointing an unsteady finger in her makeup plastered face. She mumbled something and slinked off, snapping a short whip in her hand.

  When I looked to Beck, his shit-eating grin was wide and prominent, and I rolled my eyes at him.

  "Oh, so now I'm Derek?" he snipped. He came closer to me, plucked an olive from my fist, and tossed it into his mouth.

  "No! I was helping you. You looked miserable!"

  "You think horny girls that enjoy role play make me miserable?" he said, grinning wider.

  "Well, I think they should!" I snapped back.

  "And why's that?"

  I turned around, deciding to just ignore him. I was too drunk for all that.

  "Tell you what," he whispered in my ear from behind me, as Poison’s “Every Rose Has Its Thorn” came on the stereo. "You dance with me," he reached over my shoulder and plucked another olive from my hand and pressed it to my lips, and I let it fall into my mouth, “and then you can decide if you're attracted to me."

  I looked at him from over my shoulder, his face just an inch from mine. "You are so arrogant. You know that?"

  He didn't answer me. Instead, he spun me around and caught me before I toppled over. I laughed out loud at him as he began to sing and dance comically, and I jumped in with him, singing loudly…and badly, I might add. I hadn't had that much fun in weeks.

  We danced shamelessly until the song ended. We cracked up at how ridiculous the other looked and then headed for another drink. After a few shots he begged me to dance again, and this time Emily joined us. The three of us danced a mash-up of our best seventies and eighties moves, as the alcohols and liquors roared through our bodies. Beck spun me into his arms and then out again, and Emily shimmied provocatively against my chest, lip syncing.

  She broke off when the song faded to AWOLNATION’s “Sail”, and I felt a body press into my back. “Dance with me,” Beck whispered. His arm snaked around my stomach, and I stiffened. The song sent a sharp urge to dance through me, and the beat was perfect for the way he was pressed into me. I wanted to move away from him…that was what I should’ve been doing, right? But instead, I relaxed back into him. He felt so good. His body moving against mine made me forget everything. I gripped the waist of his jeans, mashing us closer together as the music coursed through us. The heat of his breath on my neck was disastrous on my insides.

  A chill shot through me when his soft fingers slid under my shirt and across my skin. I dug my fingers into his wrist and relaxed my head back onto his shoulder. I needed to be touched, wanted. I reached back and slid my fingers into his hair. His neck was clammy under my fingers, and his damp hair was cold to the touch. I pulled at his neck and he buried his nose into mine as he grinded against me, his hand pulling back across my stomach. I gasped as his fingers dug across my skin, down to the inside of my thigh. I turned my face into his, and his lips were there almost immediately, and his tongue followed, wasting no time.

  His kiss was exactly like I remembered it, only I’d not know who I was kissing the first time. It had been the most intense kiss I’d experienced, but it felt all wrong when I saw it was Beck. This, though, this felt good.

  I could taste the salty hint of sweat that he'd worked up during our dancing. He kissed me over my shoulder, his hand exploring every part of me he could reach, both of us completely oblivious to the other hundred people jammed in the room with us.

  I turned around and gave his lips the attention they deserved.

  His kiss was hasty, but content. I could feel how perfectly his crew cut was edged at the nape of his neck, and it caused me to moan into his mouth.

  A hand snaked between us, and I looked to see a woman rubbing at his crotch. She was kneeling, pulling at the button on his jeans. I backed away to see what the hell she was doing, and he smacked her hand away, his eyes never leaving mine, and he yanked me back into him, his tongue finding my mouth, again, quickly.

  The drunken desire consumed me. I pushed him backwards, through the crown of sweaty, jolting bodies and toward the empty hallway. He gripped my thighs and lifted me into his arms. I wrapped around him as much as I could, flicking my tongue against his. His skin against mine was like nothing I’d ever felt before, but then again, maybe it was just the drinks.

  He backed into the wall and relaxed against it as our kiss grew hungrier, his hands fisted into my hair, his tongue coaxing mine. “Em’s room is right there,” I said in between kisses. His mouth stopped almost immediately. He looked dead into my eyes, as if he was taking in what I’d said and asking if I was sure. I answered his unasked question with my lips, pulling his mouth back to mine and allowing my tongue to taste every inch of it. I didn’t want to think about it, I just wanted him.

  He slammed the door shut behind us, and I heard the lock click. His fingers quickly found their way across my bare back and into my hair again. He laid me back, pressing me into the bed, his body pressing hard against mine. His hands on me made me feel more inebriated than all the liquor I’d consumed. I’d seen Beck with girls at clubs a few times, and they all seemed to get drunk off his touch, and I could see why. It had the same effect on me; it was intoxicating.

  I was most definitely attracted to him. He was my fiancé’s identical twin, how could I not be? I was a very sexual person, and I’d not even seen the likes of a man in a month, so I found it hard to control myself when I was entangled in him that way.

  Heat, desire, tingling need, and twenty kinds of liquor ripped through me as I lost myself in him. I could think of nothing but him and his touch and how much I wanted him, how much I wanted to be touched. Caressing, licking, biting, it was all taking control of me, only…in my head…it was Derek.

  He tore my skirt off, followed by my shirt, bra, and then panties. His lips never left my skin as he pulled off his jeans and briefs.

  I rolled him onto the bed and straddled him as the tingling inside me became hotter. His naked body was scorching against my thighs, and the sensation was unmatched. I trailed my lips down his stomach and he growled when I wrapped my mouth around him. He was slick and tasted so good, and my want for him prickled across my skin.

  My insides twisted viciously. I felt his hips thrust beneath me, pushing him harder into my throat, and I sucked harder, massaging my tongue across the tip of him.

  He sat up swiftly and pulled me into his lap, a serious look hot in his liquid-brown eyes, and I yelled out as he slid into m
e. I clutched his head to my chest, and he pulled me down onto him harder, and it took my breath. My head fell back and the room began to spin. I closed my eyes, and he moved faster beneath me. He groaned into my chest and a thrill shot through me when I felt his fingers dig into the skin of my lower back. I screamed and moaned, not caring at all if anyone heard us—though it was unlikely. I braced myself against his shoulders as I picked up the pace and we found the perfect rhythm. My name escaped his lips in a raspy gasp, and his teeth grazed the skin over my collarbone; it was wickedly tantalizing.

  I cried out as he took control of my hips, sliding me on and off of him faster and faster. I could feel everything inside of me tensing and swelling, and I was dying for it to let go. I needed him to make me come. I needed to feel that rushing release. Those five seconds of amazing, uncontrollable pleasure.

  His fingers scratched across my back and slid into my messy hair. He groaned into my neck as he pulsed inside of me. It built inside me until I couldn’t take it anymore. I fell apart, and he gripped my face to his so tightly I could feel his ragged breaths sucking through his teeth.

  I made my orgasm known and he loved every second of it. He seemed to be getting off on every sound I made. I screamed at the pleasure that had overwhelmed me, and his fingers dug viciously into me as he came. The feeling of his release filled me up, making me dizzy, and I blacked out.

  Chapter Ten

  I stirred my fork around in my bowl of pineapple chunks. I stood in the doorway of Emily’s kitchen, looking out over the remains of last night’s debauchery: the sea of red, plastic cups and the few, dead-looking people that hadn’t gotten a cab ride home, scattered across the floor and Em’s couch.

  I finished my breakfast, borrowed an outfit from Em, grabbed my bag, and headed for the door. I’d decided to go into work. I was an avid water drinker and rarely woke up with a hangover, so there was no reason to miss work.

  I rushed into the office. Everyone had their designs ready for me to view as soon as I walked in, and they all bum rushed me. I drew my head back from the papers that were being anxiously flung in my face, avoiding everyone I passed and walked quickly into my office. I may not have been plagued by a hangover, but I didn’t feel very good and I just wanted to sit down.

  I wondered what Beck would do when he woke up in Em’s bed. Yeah…I’d just left him in her bed. I might’ve used work to avoid talking to him, but I didn’t know what to do. I woke up next to him and despite my drunken stupor, I remembered the entire night. Was it choppy? Yes, but I definitely remembered.

  I was ashamed to say that what mostly swarmed in my head was the way I felt when I opened my eyes and saw him sprawled out next to me.

  His arm was between us, folded next to my face, and I took the chance to read the sketchy lyrics of his tattoo. He didn’t really offer up any details when I asked about them last time. I squinted the words into focus, but the most I could make out was “you’ve shattered me”, “salvage a dysphoric soul”, and “remedied my restless nostalgia.” I wondered what the piece said as a whole. The words were daunting, and knowing he’d written them made me very curious about him. He didn’t seem like a man who’d been shattered.

  My focus slipped from his tattoo-covered arm to his somber, sleeping face. He was turned in to me, his lips so close to mine. It was almost too much to feel his quiet breaths on my cheek.

  My hand was thrown across his hard stomach, and I couldn’t help but mash my fingertips into his warm, pliable skin. It had been so long since I’d been able to wake up next to Derek, but seeing his body next to me, naked and warmed by the sliver of sunlight that shined in through the window, it reminded me of what it used to feel like when I woke up in his arms every morning. I knew it wasn’t really Derek, but I didn’t care…it was enough.

  Would Beck remember? Would he call me to talk about it? Or would it be like all of his randoms, and he’d just disregard it completely, like he didn’t realize it’d even happened? It was most likely going to be the latter; apparently, he was notorious for one-and-dones.

  I couldn't decide if I felt guilty or not. I'd begged Derek to spend time with me for weeks but he wouldn't. He’d also left our date early and canceled on me more than a dozen times and stood me up! Hell he couldn’t even find time to marry me. I did feel guilty, but I tried to block it out. Beck was always around, and it was comforting. I liked seeing his shoes by the door and his towel hanging in the bathroom. I liked to see his keys on the table when I came in, like Derek’s used to be. I liked that Derek’s apartment hadn’t felt empty and lonely in weeks. If I were to tell the truth, I enjoyed seeing Beck around the apartment because it reminded me of how it used to be with Derek. It didn’t justify what we’d done, but I pretended it did.

  I shivered at how upset Derek would be if he found out. But I wouldn’t let him find out. It wouldn’t happen again. It was a drunken mistake. I was upset with him, and I messed up. There was no need in hurting him. In all honesty, I just missed him so much and having Beck around, looking and feeling so much like Derek, was hard to ignore.

  “Gina!” I slammed my hand down on the intercom button on my desk. “Bring me the designs, please.” I thought maybe some work would clear my mind.

  

  "Last night was so fun!” Emily was bouncing in her seat, going on about my risqué display with “Derek”.

  “I guess he missed you more than you thought. He came in that place after you, girl!”

  “Yeah, he still has a lot of concerns at work, though…”

  “The only thing he seemed to be concerned about was you!” she raised her eyebrows suggestively. “I half wished I was you last night!”

  I shook my head.

  “You didn’t have to hole up in my bedroom all night, though! I’m pretty sure I slept on top of a pile of people. I wasn’t even sure where I was when I woke up.”

  “Sorry…” I really didn’t want to think about the mistake we’d made. I just wanted to forget it ever happened.

  “Anyway, I—”

  “I will say,” she interrupted, “I moseyed into my room, when I got up, and I’m jealous of what you get to wake up to.”

  I scoffed. “I couldn’t tell you the last time I woke up next to him.”

  She eyed me strangely. “Well, last night…”

  “I mean, other than last night,” I corrected myself nonchalantly.

  “Well, either way, that man is a work of art!”

  “Yeah, so—”

  “Why are you being so modest?” She tossed her straw wrapper at me, playfully. “You love our raunchy girl talk!”

  “Well…he’s my fiancé…ya know?”

  “Okay…” she cut her eyes at me and mumbled, “Prude much?”

  It really didn’t bother me. She was right; we’d always talked about Derek and the guys she slept with, too. It just wasn’t Derek, and I really wanted to stop talking about it. I wanted to tell her. I didn’t like to keep anything from her. I really wanted to tell her, but…I just didn’t.

  “Well, anyway…how’s the whole Beck thing working out?”

  “Good,” I said vaguely. Somehow, I’d coaxed her into dropping the conversation about Beck, who she still thought was Derek, and now she’d begun actually talking about Beck. It was maddening.

  “Is it weird? You know, the whole twin thing?”

  “No,” I lied. “It’s fine.”

  “Just fine?” She didn’t look convinced. “Are you guys friends? Do you like him? Is he a flirt?”

  “No, he’s fine…”

  Her stare was probing, and she blinked blankly at me.

  “What’s new about school?” I chipperly changed the subject.

  “Well…nothing now. We’re about to go on break.”

  “That’s awesome. You’ll be glad to get a break, hu?”

  “Oh, so glad. I can go back to my normal routine: guys, guys, and lots more guys.” She bounced happily, which meant I’d successfully changed the subject.

&
nbsp; 

  It had bothered me all day. I just needed to talk to Beck. He needed to know that it was a mistake and it couldn’t happen again. I’d worked and hung out with Emily until I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed to face him. I hoped he’d be downstairs at the apartment.

  I opened Derek’s front door, and I heard loud yelling as I went in.

  “Bam!” Beck was standing over a cute, tomboyish brunette, his finger in her face. “No more shit talkin’, Cam! Your team is bogus!” The girl cackled and threw her hand up in his face, rolling her eyes.

  I closed the door and Beck looked over at me when he heard it. His face grew serious as his eyes scanned me. “Hey,” he said with a half-smile.

  “Hey.” I looked back at the sofa, noticing the two guys sitting on each side of the girl with the “bogus team.” I recognized Mik, who was to her left, but didn’t know the other guy.

  “Lissa, this is Mik, who you’ve already met, and this is Cameron, and Clayton.” He pointed at them from left to right. “Guys, this is Lissa. She lives here, too.”

  “It’s Cam. Just Cam.” The cute brunette stood and held out her hand. Her voice was sort of deep and she looked like a tomboy, with ragged jeans, a flannel button up, and sneakers. Her brown hair was flat and washed out and curled around her round face like a hug.

  I walked towards her, tucking my folders of designs under my arm to shake her hand.

  The blonde, Clayton, stood and swatted her hand and cupped mine between his. “You are absolutely stunning,” he said, sounding bewildered. His eyes were a shocking shade of blue, and he was attractive and knew it. “Just stunning,” he repeated, stroking the top of my hand.

  “Careful, that one’s a womanizer,” Mik warned, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “And he’s full of bad pick-up lines and what he calls ‘charisma’.” He laughed at his own joke, and Cam laughed in agreement. I reached out to hug Mik and he wrapped me up, gently patting my back, while Clayton held tight to my free hand.

  “Stop admiring!” Beck slugged Clayton’s shoulder and he dropped my hand to clutch his wound. “That’s my brother’s fiancé.”