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Tilly
“Again, Tilly.” Frannie follows those words with a clap of her hands in front of the camera. “You’ve been living in dreamland since you left San Francisco. Is it because of Boyd?”
“Boyd?” I lean closer to my phone, so my sister can see the roll of my eyes. “Why would you bring him up?”
“I know he sent you flowers.”
“You know?” I sit up straighter on my bed. “How do you know?”
“He called me to ask what color roses are your favorite,” she says proudly.
I have no choice but to wipe that smug look off of her face. “My favorite roses are white.”
Just like the ones Sebastian bought.
Did he know? Could he have known they were my favorite?
I make a mental note to ask Maya if he asked her.
“No. Our favorite roses are pink,” she says matter-of-factly.
I bow my head. I know why she thinks that. Our parents used to send us a dozen roses to share on our birthdays when we were teenagers. They were always pink, Frannie’s favorite.
I mentioned to my dad once that I thought white roses were the most beautiful. I was fourteen, and on our fifteenth birthday, another dozen roses were delivered to Frannie and me.
They were pink, all twelve of them.
“I like white roses.” I sigh.
Her brows pinch together. “You do? Really?”
She’s surprised. Frannie has always felt that we are identical in every way. It’s one of the main reasons she took my break-up with Boyd just as hard as I did. She always believed that I’d marry Grant’s best friend and we’d live in houses next door to each other, having children who would be not only cousins but best friends.
“You shouldn’t have encouraged Boyd to send me the flowers.” I rub my forehead. “I’m not interested in him, Fran.”
“I saw the way you two were looking at each other when you were here.” She bats her eyelashes. “If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.”
What I feel for Sebastian. That’s love.
I clear my throat. “I’m never getting back together with him.”
“You say that now, Tilly, but...”
I raise my hand to stop her. “Fran. No. It won’t happen. Boyd and I will never happen.”
She closes her eyes, resting the palms of her hands against them. “I always thought you’d marry him and he’d bring you home.”
“Frannie?” I say her name tentatively. “Look at me.”
She drops her hands and attempts a weak smile.
“I am home.” I push my hair back over my shoulder. “This is my home. I belong here now. I’m building my life here.”
“I miss you.” She pinches the bridge of her nose.
“I’m a video call away. You can come visit me anytime you want. I’ll come back to see you when I get more time off.” I smile softly. “But I need to live here.”
She nods softly. “I know you’re not coming back. I know your life is there now.”
I look into her eyes; the eyes that have mirrored mine my entire life. “It doesn’t matter where I live, Fran. We’ll always be sisters.”
“Twins,” she corrects me. “Our bond is special.”
I watch her closely. Her gaze darts to something to her left before she cracks a wide smile. “Do you need to go make a baby, Fran?”
“How did you know? Grant just walked into our bedroom and he doesn’t have a shirt on.” A blush creeps over her cheeks.
I smile, wondering if that’s what I looked like the first night I saw Sebastian.
“Get the job done.” I lean closer to my phone. “I love you.”
She presses her lips to the screen of her tablet in a kiss. “I love you too. Find all your happiness there, Tilly. I want that for you.”
I want that for me too.
***
“I’m here to see the most beautiful woman in the world.” His lips graze over the nape of my neck.
I stretch but don’t open my eyes. I can’t out of fear that I’m dreaming.
I fought to stay awake until one a.m. hoping that Sebastian would come home. When he didn’t, I stripped to my panties, crawled between the sheets of my bed and fell fast asleep.
His strong arms circle me to pull me back and into his bare chest. I can tell that he’s nude. His erection is resting against me.
“Unless you’re the hottest man on the planet, I’m asleep.”
He chuckles and the deep rumble courses through me. “Only you can decide if that’s who I am.”
“I say it’s you and only you,” I whisper.
“That makes me the luckiest man who ever walked the face of this earth.” He inches even closer.
I take his hand from where it’s pressed on my stomach and glide it lower.
“You want to come,” he rasps.
I whimper when I feel his fingers brush the lace of my panties. “I want to feel.”
He pulls me close, holding my body against his. “You make me feel things I’ve never felt before.”
“What things?” I suck in a deep breath.
“Things like this.” He pushes my panties aside to rest the length of his cock between the cheeks of my ass.
I moan. “No condom.”
“I know,” he hisses. “I won’t.”
“What other things?” I manage to ask as his finger finds my clit.
His breath runs hot over my neck. “All of this and more.”
“More?” I can barely form the word. I’m edging toward an orgasm already. It’s all the pent up need I’ve felt since the last time his hands were on me.
“You know.” He glides his finger down. “Move your leg.”
His tone is rough, needy. It’s filled with raw desire.
I rest my leg over his. My panties are askew, half exposing my pussy. His heavy cock is pinned between us; rigid and thick.
“That’s it.” He slides a long finger inside of me. “You’re going to fuck my fingers. You’re going to use me.”
“Oh God,” I pant, pure need taking over.
I reach down to grab hold of his wrist as I grind myself against his hand while he mouths silent words into the heated skin of my shoulder.
I ride his hand shamelessly, moaning with each thrust, groaning when he slides another finger inside of me, and then another.
“I’m going to come,” I whisper in a trembling voice as the orgasm bears down on me.
His lips move from my shoulder. “You’re mine. Only mine.”
The words push me to the edge. I clench around his fingers as I climax with a loud cry.
He groans, his body shakes and I feel the warmth of his release as it hits my skin.
“Jesus, Matilda.” His breath is ragged. “That was incredible.”
It was. It was intense and emotional, raw and powerful.
“Sleep,” he whispers as he pulls me close again. “Sleep in my arms and dream about me.”
“I always dream about you.”
“Never stop.” There’s a tremor in his voice. “And I’ll never stop dreaming about you.”
