LILY
We ran.
It was almost like flying, sprinting from house to house, cutting across the little lawns of the old neighborhood just off campus. I couldn't remember having this much fun, doing something this frivolous and silly. Not in a long, long time.
It really was like being a kid again.
"Trade you a Snickers for a Reese's?"
Brandon turned and ran backwards, laughing at me the whole time. "Fuck that. Reese's are king!"
We had no bags, nothing to keep candy in other than our greedy little fists. We ate as we went, trading off where we could, discarding whatever we didn't want by dumping it into the bags and plastic pumpkins of fellow trick-or-treater.
We rang doorbells. Knocked on doors. Sometimes, we just laughed and ran away, as fast as our pirate legs would take us. It kept our blood pumping, though. Kept us from getting cold, despite the weather.
"I need another hit," I told Brandon. "Quick!"
He pulled out the little silver flask he'd brought — some kind of spiced rum — and handed it over. It had been a welcome surprise, and the sweet burning liquid kept us warmed from the inside.
"You've been hogging it all, haven't you?"
"No way," he grinned. "Maybe you have?"
Already the flask felt significantly lighter. And if my lightheadedness was any indication, I was starting to feel the effects of it too.
We continued trick or treating, sometimes scaring people in their homes, sometimes falling over with the silliness of our whole endeavor. In the end we were slap-happy. Cooped up studying for too many hours, and now we were acting like a pair of jailbirds who'd finally been freed.
Eventually we drank the flask dry, and our stomachs were full of candy. Though our blood was still pumping our legs were slowing down. And the slower we moved, the colder things got.
"Let's head home," Brandon said, offering his hand. I slid mine into his big palm, and together we skipped happily back toward campus.
The big Victorian finally came into view like some beautiful, ancient trophy. Together we rushed up the lawn. Raced each other for the fireplace, jockeying for position before that big, warm, glowing hearth.
The door closed behind us, and we tumbled to the pillows of the living room floor. Brandon shoved the book away and swept me up his arms.
"You're amazing," he said, his expression going suddenly serious.
I felt his hands on me, holding me with such strength and youth and vigor. I was still still reeling. Still giddy. Even so, I understood the gravity of what was about to happen.
"Brandon, I—"
Our faces came together, our lips pressing hotly against one another in a single, effortless movement. There was no stopping it. Nothing to keep the forces of attraction from finally exerting themselves against us.
Oh God…
His mouth closed over mine, and suddenly I was breathing his breath. Whimpering into his mouth as he nibbled slowly and sensually at my bottom lip.
What are you doing?
My mind spun away. My heart, still racing from the thrill of our chase, continued along its crazy, pounding rhythm.
Instead of stopping our bodies writhed, churning together. The whole thing was hungry. Driven by insatiable levels of need and desire. Tempered by a whole month's worth of holding back, of trying to deny or suppress the feelings and emotions that had somehow always been there.
Brandon's hand went to my face, and his touch was astonishingly gentle. I inhaled his scent, all musk and masculinity. The fire crackled. The earth stood still. The whole world could've come crashing down around us, and I don't think either of us would've even flinched.
You have GOT to stop!
His tongue slipped past my lips, probing against mine. I returned the favor, kissing him back with with equal if not even more passion and longing. Everything about the beautiful football player was indescribably hot. I could feel his own heart beating against mine. Thumping along my skin as he crushed me against his powerful chest.
"I've wanted you," he murmured softly. My whole body jumped as one big hand settled over my ass. "Since the moment I saw you, I knew I had to have you…"
His palm slid downward, over the back of my stockinged thigh. It curved inward. Then upward towards the main part…
This more than kissing, my mind warned. This is something else…
His fingers slipped between my legs, where they found the sopping wet fabric of my tiny white thong. They pressed against it firmly, insistently, as if seeking permission. I was in a constant daze unknown of what was happening if it was real or was it still a dream. This line I should not cross but eventhough these thought always haunted me I didn't want it to stop.
Brandon didn't stop he continued to stroke the fabric of thong first it was 1 then his rhythm began to accelerate creating urgency of heat for me then he pressed another finger and other hand separated
my legs apart. First a little, and then he was making his face move down towards the space between my thighs —
"AHEM!"
The noise jolted us so hard we nearly shit ourselves! Brandon and I rolled over and bolted upright. But not before the complicated process of untangling ourselves from each other.
"And just what the hell do we have here?"
I didn't need to hear the voice to know who it was. Hunter stood over us, looking down with his arms crossed. Not far behind him stood Colin. Both their faces were painted with the same expression of anger and disappointment… even jealousy.
"Brandon," Hunter said gravely. His lips were tight. His mouth twisted in a grimace of what could be pain… or something far, far worse.
"Yeah?"
"Get up."