“Because bothering with you is—mostly—fun. In fact . . .” She slid off my lap and onto her knees in front of me. “I have an idea.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” She pushed my knees apart and ran her hands up my thighs. “Why don’t you let me bother your cock with my tongue and see how you feel after that?”

My jaw dropped, and my dick jumped. “Are you serious?”

“Don’t I look serious?” She gave me a stern librarian face as she unbuckled my belt, with pouty red lips and one eyebrow arched. That blond hair was tumbling all around her shoulders, and I imagined my hands in it while she had her fuck-hot mouth on me.

“You look fucking hot.”

“Good.” She unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans, then pulled her top over her head, revealing a black and pink bra with sexy criss-crossing straps that made me want to tie her up. “Just in case I get a little messy.”

I remembered watching her sucking the sauce off the bone the other night at dinner—and she’d been wearing a T-shirt at the time—and thought my dick was going to burst through the crotch of my pants at the thought of her sucking me off in that bra. “Go ahead. Get messy.”

She tugged at the sides of my jeans and I lifted my hips just enough for her to drag them down below my knees. My cock sprung out like it had been catapulted, and she laughed as she took it in her hands. “Are you excited?”

“Yes.”

She lowered her head between my legs, keeping her eyes on mine. “Have you thought about this before?”

“Yes.”

“How much?” She swirled her tongue over the tip, making my entire body hum.

“A lot.”

“Even back then?”

“Especially back then.”

She smiled with fire in her eyes and ran her tongue up one side of my cock, then the other. “I like that.”

“But I want it even more now.”

Those eyes found mine again and held them for a moment before she lowered her mouth onto me and slid her lips all the way down. I felt the tip of my cock hit the back of her throat, felt her hand begin to work along the shaft, felt her tongue against my crown, felt the muscles in her mouth suck and tease and torture me. She went slowly at first, like I was a meal she wanted to savor, and I watched as she licked and tasted and tantalized every inch of me. Unable to stop myself, I started to move, rocking my hips beneath her, holding her head where I wanted it, thrusting between her lips with deep, steady strokes.

The most amazing thing was how much she seemed to enjoy it. She moaned and sighed and gasped for air. She took me so deep, she couldn’t breathe. She went at me hard and fast. She got messy, and seriously didn’t give a fuck. All she wanted to do was give me pleasure. I felt like a god.

When I couldn’t hold back anymore and warned her I was going to come, I wouldn’t have blamed her if she didn’t want it in her mouth—but if anything, she just took me in deeper. My fingers tightened in her hair, my entire body stiffened, my rhythmic exhales became one long groan that tore from my throat as my cock surged and emptied into her throat.

When I relaxed my grip, she sat back on her heels, breathing hard. “Jesus,” she said, wiping her mouth with her forearm. “And I thought it was big before.”

Jumping to my feet, I yanked my pants up, grabbed her beneath the arms and set her on the couch. “Lie down,” I told her, except I didn’t even wait for her to lie down, I just pushed her back and went right to work taking off her jeans, her panties right along with them.

But I left that bra right where it was.

“Noah, you’re tired. You don’t have to—”

But my mouth was already on her pussy, and the rest of her ridiculous sentence was swallowed up by a moan.

“That’s better,” I told her. “No more talking.”

“I like talking.”

“Right now, all I want to do is make you come. And words aren’t going to do it.”

“Yours might.”

That made me smile. “Just let me fuck you with my tongue, Sawyer. We can talk later.”

I didn’t give her a chance to argue.

Later, we stretched out in my bed, skin to skin, our legs entwined.

“Do you feel better?” she asked, snuggling close to me the way she did at night.

“Yeah. I do.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so angry.”

“Well, you’re not around that much. And I don’t usually get so worked up. It’s only certain things that really get to me.”

“I know.” Her fingertips brushed back and forth across my chest. “I think the last time I saw you get that mad was when that asshole kid wouldn’t stop teasing Asher about wearing those headphones at the beach. You went ballistic on that jerk.”

I frowned. “Yeah, I got in a lot of trouble for that. My dad was pissed at me for losing my shit.”

“I didn’t blame you. I don’t think anybody did. That kid deserved it.”

“I’m better at controlling my emotions now. Usually.”

“But you’re not a robot, Noah. It’s okay to feel things. Even for a man.”

I was silent for a minute, then I told her something I’d never told anyone. “I feel guilty. About Asher.”

He hand stilled on my chest. “What?”

“I have all this guilt I carry around. I’ve always had it.”

“But why? You’re the best brother he could have.”

“Because we’re twins and I got everything so easy. It’s not fair. It’s never been fair. Do you know what caused his cerebral palsy? A lack of oxygen to the brain during birth. We were born five minutes apart. So why him and not me?”

“Oh, Noah. Don’t think that way.”

“I can’t help it. Every single day has been a struggle for him. Walking. Talking. Eating. Sleeping. Just being in public. And I never struggled with anything. Not school or friends or sports or girls. My only struggle was trying to protect him. It was my only way to . . . make it up to him somehow.”

She propped herself up, her hand splayed over my heart. “I get it. But you shouldn’t feel guilty. Asher was born different than you, and yes, he’s struggled because of it, but that isn’t your fault.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“And look how far he’s come! Doctors thought he wouldn’t even walk, right? And he’s got a job and friends and an awesome family. He was smiling so much the other day.”

“But what did I do to deserve to be born with a normal brain while his was damaged? Since I was a kid, I’ve been asking myself that question. The answer is nothing, Meg. Fucking nothing. And the older I get, the more I realize it’s true.”

“Hey.” Meg’s tone grew a little sharper. “You deserve everything you are and everything you have and everything you dream about.”

“I don’t, Meg. Why should I get to have experiences and opportunities that he never will?”

“What kind of experiences do you mean?”

Being a husband and father.

I thought it, but I couldn’t say it. It wasn’t even right that I was talking about this with her. She’d never be able to understand why I had to deny myself things I wanted deep down. Nobody could.