Broken Glass (The Mirror Sisters 2) - Page 55

The moment he stepped up, I threw my arms around him. He felt awkward for a moment and then embraced me.

“This is terrible,” he said. “My mother can’t stop talking about it.”

I took a deep breath and pulled back, but I held on to his right hand. “Come in,” I said. “Just follow me up the stairs.”

Daddy didn’t step out of the kitchen. I hurried Ryan through the entryway to the stairs and practically dragged him up and into my room before anyone could appear. Then I closed the door.

He shrugged. “I was expecting to see police or the FBI or something.”

“They come and go. No one is anticipating a demand for ransom. This is something worse,” I said, and plopped onto my bed.

He stood gazing down at me. His awkward indecision about what to do amused me. I turned over and pushed myself up to my pillows.

“It’s all right,” I said, patting the bed. “Take off your shoes and just lie beside me.”

He glanced at the door, shrugged, and did as I had asked. “So no one’s called yet, huh?” he asked.

“Just the police from time to time. How did Rachel take your not going to the movies but coming here instead?”

“I didn’t tell her,” he said. “If I did, she would have wanted to come, too.”

“Very smart. There’s no room for her on my bed,” I added, and turned toward him.

His eyes widened as that sweet, flirtatious smile of his appeared. “Very funny.”

“It’s not meant to be funny,” I said, fixing my serious, intent sexual gaze on him. “I need to think of other things, or I’ll go mad. Even the psychiatric nurse said that to me. You can’t dwell on sadness and worry all day and night.”

“No, I guess not.”

“It doesn’t mean you don’t love someone who’s in trouble. It does them no good for you to get sick and weak, too.”

“Right,” he said.

“Can you take my mind off things?” I asked, running my left forefinger up from his chest to the tip of his chin.

He didn’t move until I brought my lips to his. Then he put his arm around me and kissed me harder and longer. I could hear his breathing quicken. Oh, how easy this is, I thought, and look at the excuse I have for whatever I do, no matter how I behave. I sat up and pulled my blouse over my head. Before he could react to that, I undid my bra and dropped it off the side of the bed. When I turned back to him, he was trembling with excitement.

“Boys like it fast, don’t they?” I whispered as I brought my lips to his cheek.

He looked at the closed door.

“I locked it when I closed it,” I said.

“Why me?” he asked.

“Why not you?”

He started to undress. I rushed to pull back the blanket. He slipped in beside me, naked. We kissed, and my body, which had been under such dull depression too long, was electrified. He kissed his way down my neck, to my shoulders, over my breasts, and to the small of m

y stomach. Then he reached over the side of the bed, fumbled with his pants for a moment, and came up with a contraceptive.

“You answered the question,” I said.

“What question?”

“Why you?” I said, and we began to make love.

I was more passionate and demanding than I had ever been with any boy. Every rush traveling up the insides of my thighs or down from my breasts in waves through my body was stronger than any I had ever felt. He was holding on to me as if I were a bull he was riding. I could see that the one fear in his eyes was that he would reach an orgasm before I was completely satisfied. He moaned almost with disappointment when it happened.

Tags: V.C. Andrews The Mirror Sisters Suspense
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