Thirteen
"What's your poison?"
It was cooler in the apartment. Cool enough that Erin could feel her nipples tightening up and rubbing uncomfortably against the fabric of her bikini with every little movement, until it hurt. She wanted to change into something else, or at least put on a robe or a jacket. But she didn't.
This was all about a show for Hutchinson, and if she was going to give him a show then she was going to go as far as she could.
"Whatever you've got is fine."
She pulled down a half-drank bottle of Irish Whiskey and poured two fingers for each of them, then carried both glasses in along with the bottle and set them down in front of him.
"Did you want to get something to eat? I could fix something, or we could get Chinese delivered, or—"
He drank the whiskey as if he wasn't particularly listening, and she wasn't sure that she cared if he was or wasn't. It wasn't important that he respected her, only that he believed that she was who she said she was. If he believed it enough to open up and expose himself.
"Whatever you want, babe. I'm not too worried about it."
"Pizza, then."
He smiled. "You read my mind."
She made the call, stepping into the other room. She wasn't going to leave him enough that he could get into any trouble with her stuff, but she couldn't let him think that she didn't trust him, either. That would have ruined the show. The illusion that she was some vapid sexpot who wouldn't even think about him having murdered her little sister.
An hour's difference didn't make a lot in terms of human growth. A one-hour old wasn't so different from someone just born, and a twenty-one-and-thirty-minutes woman was even less different than thirty-minutes-short-of-twenty-one. But officially the days were different, so officially Becca was the baby.
And man, for years that had been her way, too. Erin couldn't stand it, until she was older and could look at it with hindsight. Besides that, Becca had sure grown up a hell of a lot by the time she went off with Dad. Neither of them had any illusions about what that was. He was trouble, and she was going to walk into it with him, because he needed her to.
Now Erin wanted that childish girl back, but she was gone, like it or not. Because of the man in the other room. She bit her lip hard to keep her face straight, to keep herself under control. A girl picked up on the other line.
A large pizza, pepperoni with extra cheese. Nothing to drink. Bread sticks? Sure. They had thirty minutes, but Erin usually expected them a little early. So call it twenty-five. She was right down the street from the place, after all, so even in bad traffic, it wasn't long between out of the oven and at her door.
"I hope you don't mind pepperoni."
The guy rolled his eyes and a smile spread across his face. "Oh no—not pepperoni. What ever will I do?"
"I don't know. I guess you're just going to have to eat… me!" Erin shot her eyes open wide in mock-surprise at her own joke. He snorted out a laugh.
"I could do that, if you like."
"So, Craig. You got any family?"
He sat back and took the whiskey she poured him another two fingers of. Perhaps a little bit more. She was feeling generous.
"Not any more—well. No, I have an aunt, and I think I have a cousin, somewhere out in Florida. I've met the aunt… maybe once, at my mother's funeral, but I don't remember what she looks like. Heard she has a kid, but I've never met him." She filed that away for further investigation. "You?"
"Mom died a few years back. Dad went back to Minnesota, and my sister went with him."
Craig's face twisted up. "Yeah, about that. I need to come clean about something."
"What's that?"
He raised his eyebrows and then they lowered and got tight. "I was talking with your sister. Started a year ago, maybe? Last I heard from her was a week ago, when she was getting on a plane. Heading here."
"Is that right? I hadn't heard anything from her."
"Well, she said she wasn't real close to her sister or anything. She sure didn't mention you two were twins."
"I'm the prettier twin, anyone in our high school would have told you that."
"Oh yeah?"
No, they wouldn't. She was the bitchier twin, and Becca was the nice one, but neither one of them was pretty. But that didn't matter.
"You want to find out?" He leaned in to her, suddenly very intrigued. "Come here, tiger."
She let her legs fall open a little bit, and even though she was still wearing her bikini, the message was clear. He crossed the distance between them in the blink of an eye, his sharp teeth pressed into the soft, sensitive flesh of her throat. Tasting. Scraping his teeth across. Erin let out a soft moan, one she didn't have to fake for his benefit.
His hands wasted no time in untying the top of her bikini. It came off easier than it had gone on, and her tits were out and accessible within seconds. He took one already-hard nipple between his fingers and pinched. The pain and pleasure shot through her, mixed up and sending all the wrong signals.
The way that her brain started to buzz, though, maybe they were the right ones after all. She could taste the whiskey on his tongue as he pulled her in for a kiss. His knee planted between her thighs, tantalizingly close to her core. She pushed herself down against his knee, rubbing gently where she could still feel the tingle of pleasure remembered from the back of that motorcycle.
"What about my sister," she breathed out, her voice husky and ragged.
"What about her? Is she here? Does she want to join in?" His voice was teasing and cruel. He moved his knee a little bit, grinding it into her mound and sending another heady shot of pleasure through her.
"Shut up and fuck me."
He pulled his knee away, and Erin's body rebelled at the loss of sensation. How dare she want him like this, she thought. It wasn't god-damned fair. She lifted her hips to help him get her bottoms off, even as he stood before her fully clothed.
Then he dipped down to a knee and pressed his head between her thighs, and she didn't mind so much any more. His tongue explored her folds, tracing strange, pleasurable lines across her that she wasn't going to be able to forget for a hell of a lot longer than she wanted.
Her hands scrabbled for something—anything—to grip, finally finding his thick hair. She took two fistfuls and tried to stop the world from spinning around her by pulling his face in deeper. He took the hint and pressed his tongue into her, the feeling of it wiggling and probing sending strange but unbelievable sensations through her entire body. Even her fingertips seemed to buzz with pleasure.
He didn't ask her about Condoms, and he didn't say please. She heard his belt coming undone, heard his pants unzip, and then he pulled away from her, in spite of her hands in her hair, and pushed inside.
She was tight, even after Roy had fucked her so well. The feeling of Craig's cock inside her almost hurt, hitting a spot just a little bit too deep inside. He took a hard grip on her hips and used her. She couldn't think of it any other way. She felt like a fuck toy that he was pulling on and off his cock, like she was just some sort of masturbation aid. God damn it all, it felt good.
She couldn't stop her voice escaping with every thrust in, the pain only matched by the pleasure, each sending her spiraling higher and higher until she couldn't think or see or feel anything but the delicious friction between them. A pinch of her nipple sent another shock through her, enough to bunch up her entire body and explode.
He kept fucking her through her orgasm, kept moving hard, pushing himself in deeper and deeper with every thrust until he poured his cum into Erin's waiting womb. She let her head drop back just in time to hear the doorbell ring.
Oh, right, she thought dimly, unable to move from the overwhelming pleasure. The pizza.