Doubled Read online

  Chapter Two

  She tried to tell by feeling out their expressions at first. Sebastian tended to smile more, so that would have been one clue. However both of them kept their faces pretty straight, which left her with absolutely nothing.

  He’d been right to test her like this. They both felt exactly the same—smooth skinned, good, strong bones beneath. Those soft mouths beneath the press of her suddenly nervous fingers.

  She’d never touched them like this before, after all. It felt too intimate, too real, and with every second that passed the urge to tell them she wanted to stop grew stronger. They seemed to be barely breathing, as though the whole game was really about her uncovering something deadly and dangerous, and she didn’t like that. Not at all.

  She didn’t like them suddenly stepping away from her either. For one horrible moment she found herself just reaching out into thin air, pawing through it like a kid playing a game of blind man’s bluff. And then one of them caught her hand and drew her back in, only to reveal something worse.

  He’d taken his shirt off. Whoever it was had absolutely, one hundred percent taken his shirt off. She couldn’t even deny it, because he had hold of her hand and he’d put it right on his bare shoulder—all big and thick with bone and muscle.

  She could almost hear what he was saying, without any words—Can you tell now? Can you tell who I am now?

  How weird that she still couldn’t. She could have seen the difference between them even if they’d both been wrapped in burkhas with only their eyes showing, but nakedness revealed absolutely nothing. It just felt smooth and terrifying and it gave her flashbacks to them both, by the pool. In matching Speedos, dripping wet, asking her if it was cool for them to stop by later. Had she liked the race, and could they stop by later to talk about the work they’d just done in Professor Patterson’s class?

  It had been one of the first times they’d talked, one of the first building blocks of their friendship, and there hadn’t been a single moment when she’d looked at their half-naked bodies and thought about them sexually. Of course she’d occasionally thought about them since, in a halfhearted wouldn’t it be nice if they accidentally rammed into one of my boobs sort of way, but nothing with this intensity.

  She wasn’t sure what had changed. Was it the blindfold? The feel of one of them, all heavy and firm and then the slight roughness of the hair on his chest? Or was it just the idea that she was touching her buddies Seb and Tobe, really touching without any good or sane idea why?

  She heard whispering and turned her face toward it, but it was no good. Massive, swirling, weird thoughts had taken over her brain, and she could no longer use said organ for anything like discerning who was who. She couldn’t even make out what they were whispering about, because something was buzzing between her ears and her face felt hot and God, God.

  In a panic, she squeezed someone’s arm. Said Sebastian, even though most of her wasn’t at all certain. Sebastian would have probably been the one to drag her to him, and that was the twin on her right—the one she’s just identified.

  But she had the sinking feeling that…

  “Victory is ours. Try again, Bobbi,” one of them said, though infuriatingly she still couldn’t tell who it was. The minute she’d squeezed an arm the owner had stepped away, and now they were somewhere toward the dining table, mocking her.

  She reached out one flaying hand for the guy she’d just grabbed, pointing and trying to laugh back that there were only two options. So the one on the right, well—it had to be Tobias. The other guy—the one who’d probably just spoken—that was Sebastian.

  “Which one of us is Sebastian, again? We can’t tell unless you get a hold and say a name.”

  Definitely Sebastian, though she couldn’t get close enough to tag him. She could hear them shifting around—of course she could, they weighed the same as your average Volkswagen—but they were quick. They were quick and annoying and fuck, fuck.

  “Come on, guys, this isn’t funny now.”

  “It was funny when you were winning.”

  She dropped her hands down by her sides.

  “Sebastian,” she said, but he just laughed. And for one horrible moment she honestly wondered if she’d gotten them all wrong. Maybe everything they’d shared together had just been building toward this—some nightmarish fraternity prank. Blurry phone footage of her stumbling around, trying to paw their half-naked bodies.

  And yes, she knew how ridiculous that idea was. She really did. But knowing how ridiculous something was didn’t stop a little burr of pain catching in her throat.

  “I tell you what, Bobs—we’ll throw you a lifeline. We’ll do one more thing, and see if it helps you separate us. How does that sound?”

  “Can I take the blindfold off?”

  Lord only knew why she was asking. Most of her just wanted to rip the blasted thing away and have done with it. If seventeen of the frat brothers they didn’t have were standing around watching, well, so be it. She’d have the memory of a lovely year with two guys who’d at least seemed protective and caring and good.

  “No, no, not yet,” one of them said, but this time she knew for sure it was Tobias. The tone of his voice was too gentle, too full of an imploring sort of persuasion. Sebastian would have just said don’t.

  Though he didn’t have to say a word for her to know it was him, when a sudden hand went around her wrist. It reminded her too much of the roof, when he’d held her so carefully like that—as though sensible of how long his fingers were and how huge his palm was, and how she might flit away if he didn’t touch her just right.

  It felt as if someone had struck a gong inside her. It felt as though her body was reverberating. He had just one fingertip over the inside of her wrist, over her pulse, and the very edge of his thumb on some tender part of the back of her hand, and it was… She didn’t know what it was.

  Though she knew it got worse when he put his other hand on her face.

  He did it in exactly the same way—soft, so soft. Just a hint of his fingertips against the curve of her jaw and then his thumb stroking over her cheek, while inside the gong struck harder and the sound sung through her veins, heady and too much. What in God’s name was he doing? Was she supposed to guess based on the way he touched someone?

  He had to know she couldn’t really judge something like that. She knew what Sebastian’s hand felt like, but she didn’t know anything about Tobias’. She had no basis for comparison, and even if she’d possessed one it wouldn’t have mattered.

  She couldn’t think clearly enough to employ it. One of them was touching her, and after a long, long torturous moment in which she couldn’t think or speak or do anything at all, she felt this same person lean down and press his mouth to hers.

  An entire ocean roared inside her head. She felt certain she’d had thoughts before it started swirling and crashing between her ears, but they were gone now, for sure. All those little reverberations became a thousand crackling points, and she thought of Tobias leaning on one of the library’s tables with a book in his hand, asking if she knew what it meant by I Sing The Body Electric.

  It meant this. Her body was singing electricity. She couldn’t reach up and hold him, or even reach up and push him away. He was kissing her, and it felt bizarre and soft and good all at the same time.

  He tasted like mint. Of course he did. Sebastian, she thought, because Sebastian would be the one to think of gum-chewing before he did something like this, and also because he was doing it all. Tobias, on the other hand, made a little discomfited sound when his brother leaned over and kissed her, as though it just wasn’t the done thing.

  He shouldn’t be doing it. He certainly shouldn’t have been pushing it further, past that almost innocent press against her lips. The latter could have been mistaken for just another level of this game, but the thing he was actually doing…she couldn’t mistake that for anything other than a kiss.

  A real one.

  He’d parted his lips, for G
od’s sake. He was moving his mouth against hers, as though she hadn’t frozen in position and could respond to whatever this was.

  The most hateful part of it was—she wanted to respond. Really wanted to. He was as good a kisser as that glimpse of him with Marnie Lewisham had suggested, all relaxed and easy about it, mouth as tender as some overripe fruit.

  And then he’d somehow coaxed her lips into parting—and maybe, yeah maybe, she was kissing him back a little. Maybe she liked it, even when she wanted to pretend she didn’t. But that definitely wasn’t his cue to give her just a terrifying hint of tongue. No way, no way, it wasn’t.

  Mainly because it was solidly, horribly arousing when he did it. He didn’t thrust into her mouth, all aggression. He didn’t even really just poke it in there and wait for a response. He licked at the edges of her upper lip as his mouth stroked away from hers, as though she tasted so good he simply had to just get a hint more.

  She didn’t mind admitting that it turned her knees to soup. Hell, it turned her vagina to soup, despite all the issues said feeling threw up—like what might happen if she actually had to deal with the sexual interest she might have in one or both of them. Or the fact that a sentence like that one had to have the word both in it.

  Because that was the point, wasn’t it? If she thought about the whole thing beyond some vague joke about it maybe one day happening, then it…well…then it had to happen. In fact, it seemed to be happening right now. With one guy doing the kissing and the other guy kind of watching and oh, it was all just a little much.

  Hell—even Tobias seemed to think so. He’d started making these strange, almost protesting sorts of noises, which sounded almost exactly like the ones she wanted to be making. She really wanted to.

  Only her noises were coming out a lot more like the ones people made when they could feel their clit pulsing between their legs and their mouths seemed like one great big nerve ending. She could actually feel her upper lip humming, where he’d just…suggested the slide of his tongue over it. And when he went a bit further—when the kiss became a real, wet, open-mouthed affair—she could actually feel herself getting slippery. It was embarrassing.

  But also heavenly. They wouldn’t know, after all, would they? It was okay for her to kiss back a little, because it wasn’t as though they could tell she was turned-on. Nobody got turned-on because of a stupid kiss. People wouldn’t even think about something like that.

  “Her nipples are hard.”

  Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. You know you’re in trouble when even Tobias thinks it’s cool to point stuff like that out.

  “You turned-on, Bobs?” Sebastian asked, but he did so while kissing along the line of her jaw, which made it kind of hard to form a coherent answer. Plus, after a moment of her silence, he decided that the best course of action was to reach up and cup one of her breasts in his immense hand, as though the world had turned upside down and they all just did things like this now.

  “God, it is hard. Really hard. That feel good?”

  She tried to focus on what he was doing, and connect it with a sensation. Was it good? He had a thumb right on the tip of her nipple, and he was kind of rubbing over it until her lower body turned to butter, but she couldn’t assign a feeling to it.

  It was too rude. Too immediate. And in the background Tobias was telling Sebastian to not go too far, don’t do too much, which only added to the sense of disquiet.

  “You can tell us to stop any time, Bobbi,” he said, but then she could feel him close to her too. He almost had a hand on her back, somewhere lowdown and probably too close to her butt, and when Sebastian moaned that she felt so good Tobias stopped hesitating.

  He slid that hovering hand right over her ass, squeezing as he went.

  Of course it immediately made her lurch into Sebastian, at which point Tobias apologized profusely. That hand moved away real quick, leaving her oddly bereft and definitely frustrated—so much so that it didn’t seem like anything to reach back and grab at him.

  She caught something that felt like his shoulder, and then it was just a short trip to the nape of his neck and when she arched, she could just about reach something on him with her lips—the side of his face, maybe. Or the corner of his mouth. Or maybe just the whole of his mouth and oh Jesus, now she’d made out with both of them.

  “I told you she wanted us,” Sebastian said, but he didn’t sound triumphant or arrogant or like an asshole about it. He sounded breathless and faintly disbelieving, as though most of him knew it would come to this but some of him hadn’t. Not really.

  And now it was all getting out of control. She could actually feel Tobe’s erection, pressing into the curve of her ass. And when she pushed back against it, his hands came up and around her body to cup her breasts.

  More than that, really. He didn’t do it patiently, hesitantly, over the top of her t-shirt. He slid his hands right inside instead, and then there was just her bra between his palms and her outrageously stiff nipples.

  She couldn’t help moaning into his mouth. It was just a lot more forceful than she’d ever imagined Tobias being—though of course Sebastian didn’t take long to trump him. He just stepped right forward after a moment and started unbuttoning her jeans.

  Just like that. No going back now. Though where they were going forward to she couldn’t say.

  To naked land seemed like one option. It didn’t take Sebastian long to get her jeans undone, and then he simply tugged them down her legs as though yeah, we do this every day. Undressing you is perfectly natural, Bobbi. Here, let me press kisses to your bare thighs and ask my brother to take your top off.

  “Oh God, she’s even softer than I imagined.”

  “Jesus, Bobbi, you’ve got tits and ass for days.”

  “Days, man—hey, take her bra off.”

  “Is that okay, Bobs? Can I take your bra off?”

  She didn’t know why Tobias was asking. They’d already stripped her of almost everything and she hadn’t made a peep. Making a peep was apparently a very difficult thing to do, when some great big handsome man had his face almost between your thighs and his hands on your ass, squeezing and groping and pulling your forward until fuck, fuck he definitely had his face between her thighs.

  She felt him mouth at her pussy through the terribly thin and absolutely soaked material of her panties, while behind her Tobias fumbled with her bra and cursed, repeatedly.

  It was obvious why though, of course. He even told her why, in a voice that sounded too up and down.

  “Fuck, Seb, what are you doing? Look—don’t go down on her yet, just wait—wait a second.”

  She wondered what on earth it looked like, to see someone with your face pressing hot, wet kisses between a woman’s legs. Though judging by the sudden very insistent press of his hard cock against her ass, it didn’t look bad, exactly.

  “Can’t help it. Jesus, she’s soooo wet,” he said and oh that went through her, sharply. There was something intoxicating about the way they talked here, now. Something different from the usual back and forth, as though sex gave it an extra frisson, a little hint of dirtiness to them finishing each other’s sentences and almost talking around her.

  “Yeah? Has she soaked through the material?”

  “God yeah, totally. Her clit feels huge.”

  Oh Lord—he could tell something like that? He could tell it through her panties? She felt her face flame a brilliant, burning red, just thinking about him pushing his face and his mouth and his tongue against the taut cloth, feeling that swollen little bead through them as though it now occupied an area roughly the size of France.

  “Can we take you to the bedroom, Bobs?” Tobias asked, but really she had no idea why. Did he actually think she was going to say no now? Her legs were barely holding her up. In fact, she suspected it was his hands on her tits that were actually doing the lion’s share of the work.

  “Uhyeeuh,” she managed to get out, and then Tobias just scooped her up, just like that, no effort at all involv
ed.

  She realized with a little jolt that she’d never actually been picked up by a man before. Not even Greg, the six-foot wrestling team coach, had managed this achievement, though it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out how he was doing it so easily.

  She could feel the thick, heavy press of his biceps against her right arm. His chest was a slab of iron pushing up to almost every part of her, and when he laid her on the bed, it felt more like being tossed violently through the air.

  She could smell him immediately on the bed sheets—sweet and sharp and sort of airy. It made her more aware of just how blind she was, how much they could do without her seeing or knowing, but she didn’t feel the urge to take the scarf off. Not in the slightest.

  If anything, there was a strange safety around being sightless. She didn’t have to see them and deal with the fact that this was Sebastian and Tobias, her best friends. She didn’t have to think about what her body looked like to either of them, all round and unwieldy and totally not in shape the way they were. She could simply listen to their words instead, their good, good totally filthy words, all of them running one after the other until she thought she might go mad with desire.

  “Fuck, I’m so hard.”

  “Don’t, just—lemme get her panties off.”

  It was Sebastian, she thought, who’d said the latter. It didn’t seem like him, somehow, but the idea persisted. Sebastian was the one between her legs—kneeling on the floor just off the end of the bed, she suspected—and Tobias was the one up by her head. Really close to her head. So close she felt sure he was going to ask her to suck him off at any second.

  But he didn’t. Instead, she felt his hand suddenly in her hair and his mouth on hers, while Sebastian slowly, slowly, slowly tugged her panties down her legs.

  This time, she felt exposed. Really exposed and open and somehow unable to do anything about it—such as squeezing her thighs together or squirming away. And it got worse when he murmured how hot it was that she kept everything down there so smooth, as though he’d expected a giant avalanche of hair instead of the little waxed landing strip she preferred.