The Space Between Things Ch. 02

"Fuck you Troy," she yelled, angrier at herself than him.

"Let's," Troy said, fitting his other knee between her legs, spreading them wider.

Allysia struggled for a moment, but he was not budging. On her knees now, she still tried to pull away but his arms were held her firm. Finally she rose up so that her back was to his chests. Her breathing was loud and frantic. As always when they were close like this she was aware of his size and solidness. Every part of Troy was defined strength and warmth. She placed her hands on top of his, thinking he would slacken his grip if she showed some sign of submission. She was not prepared for the way her body betrayed her. When Troy slid his hand up her torso and palmed her breast, she emitted a small sound that could not be mistaken for anything else but arousal. His hand kneaded her breast. While tweaking her nipple's hard pebble between thumb and forefinger, his other hand slid down to the meeting of her thighs. Her small hands rode atop his the whole time. He loved the way the soft, silky curls of her mound felt against the palm of his hand. He liked his pussy neat but not bare. She knew this and always kept it perfect for him. But damn, he had to work so hard for it. He gave her everything she wanted, often times without even being asked for it. All he wanted was this. All he wanted was her. It was always her. She drove him crazy and he wanted her so bad. His finger found her slit and expertly began to work his magic on her hungry clit. It had grown solid just waiting for his touch. He did not even have to dip his finger into her; her pussy was so soaked her clit was already drenched. She arched her back and moaned. It had been much too long. He worked two of his fingers in her and slid them upward, slightly hooking them so that the meaty flesh at the tips of his fingers hit that spot. Her body reacted immediately and Troy knew that there would be no more resistance. Her pussy clamored at his hand. It always amazed him how tight she was. He had been there for TJ's delivery but her pussy tightened around his finger like a virgin's.

She moaned.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" he said roughly.

"Oh Troy yes," she whimpered in surrender, turning her head so that her lips could find his. Loving the feel of his fingers working her pussy, she ground her ass into him. She raised her hands to let her fingers trail through his hair, in surrender. Troy avoided her lips, letting them fall along his jaw and neck. Now the bitch was hungry for him. She was going to have to pay for the tongue biting shit. He was just not sure how yet.

"Ask me," he demanded. "Beg!"

"Troy please," she said breathless, "fuck me."

"Bend over," he commanded and she lowered herself so that she rested on her palms. "Lower," he told her. She moved to her elbows, forcing her ass higher.

With his legs he spread hers even wider. Placing his large hands on her ass, he spread her cheeks. He played with her slapping his big dick on her ass. The view was like heaven to him.

"Please Troy," she begged.

With that, he jammed himself into her and pistoned in and out of her with an animalistic force, driving her face into the bed. With his size he had always tried to be so careful with her and he knew he was probably hurting her, but he did not care. For once he was being SELFISH and claiming what he felt was his due. There was no mercy in how he took her. She was so wet and felt so unbelievably good. Her pussy was so hot and desperately gripping his dick. He knew her body better than she knew herself. He could tell she was about to come. He could feel it building within her. She whimpered and called out his name. Although he loved the way his dick looked slamming into her dripping pussy, the slap of flesh slamming into flesh, he had a point to make. Damn it. It was no fair that her pussy felt better than it ever had. Or, it had been so long since he had any, he had just forgotten what it felt like. Anger overtook him once more. This was not going to be about her. This fuck was about him for a change. Selfish!

Troy pulled out. Let her come by her own damn self.

"Troy," she cried out, turning her head to try and see what was happening.

He fisted his own penis, squeezing it as he ran his hand up and down. Growling at that familiar feeling, he shot out his creamy white liquid across her back. It shot so far up that some managed to hit the edge of the tattered t-shirt pulled up her back. Troy shook himself off, then climbed off the bed and grabbed his pillow off the floor.

"Now that I jacked myself off," he said sarcastically, "I can go sleep my ass on the couch." He slammed the door behind him.

Allysia could not believe this. He just left her! Not like this!

"You're just like your fucking brother," she screamed.

Troy stopped cold in his footsteps. It took every ounce of control in his body not to march back in that room and drag her ass out of that bed and out the front door. The anger she induced in him was mind-boggling. The difference between him and Ian was that he had bothered to marry her ass. For the very first time he was beginning to doubt the soundness of that decision. The only thing that bitch ever gave him was his son. If it was not for that...

****************

Regan woke up only partially remembering what Audra had said when she came into her room earlier that morning. Regan had been so tired and the bed so comfortable; she slept like a rock. No dreams or nightmares descended upon her. It was the best sleep she had in a long time. Now, her lovely room was flooded with sunlight. In the daylight it was even more surreal. 'All mine', she thought looking around. In the back of her mind she knew that it was most likely a temporary thing, especially after last night. That pretty little smiling Audra could be a seriously big bitch. Regan had not even seen it coming. There was undoubtedly more of where that came from. So Regan made a mental note to brace herself and not be fooled by the smiles, no matter how sincere they looked.

Meanwhile, Regan planned on enjoying as much of the whole set-up as long as she possibly could. Stretching her legs and arms out as far as they could go, she still did not touch the edges of the bed. She had never experienced that before. She repeated the words out loud this time, "all mine".

Then she remembered. Audra had said that she was sorry about last night. She said that she had to go into work, apologizing since it was Regan's first day in North Carolina. She was sorry that Regan would have to spend the entire day alone, but she promised she would make it up to her. "This is your home," she had said, "help yourself to anything and everything."

Regan flung her herself around and placed her feet on the floor. She had never seen a hardwood floor so shiny and flawless. There were no gaps or crud between the boards. She wiggled her toes and wondered what she would do by herself in this big, fancy house. Audra told her that she would be working until about three or four and they would grab some dinner later. Regan had the whole house to herself until then.

She had to get in that shower one more time. Double shower heads! It felt amazing. Wiping the steam away from the bathroom mirror, Regan's mind wandered back to her so-called father. The little boy had said that she had his grandfather's eyes. She tried to see him in her face. The pictures of him on the Internet were all pretty much the same--sad, empty, watery grey eyes. No, there was no trace of him in her face. If it was not for the color of her eyes there would be no proof that she was his child at all.

She slipped back on the thin white tank top she had slept in and into her favorite pair of hole-y, faded jeans. She decided to skip the bra, since no one was home but her anyway. Her breasts were firm and she could go without a bra sometimes, but she never dared step out of the house without one. She only did it when she knew she would be alone. She wore her black and white chucks. Regan figured she would change clothes later that day in anticipation of Audra's return.

It took a while for her to find what she had done with her I-Pod. She had been so scared that she would lose it or even worse, someone would steal it. She had buried it in her red case. She breathed a sigh of relief when she found it, immediately sliding it into her back pocket and placing the ear buds in her ear. Now she was comfortable. It did not matter where she was, as long as she had her music, her chucks and her favorite jeans. She could block out the world and get her groove on.

She started singing to a Beyonce Knowles' song. But singing really was not her forte, dancing was. Immediately her body started to move. Dancing was a natural thing for her, like breathing. She had a body that was made for it, curved in all the right places, plush and firm. "If you like it, than you should'a put a ring on it," she sang, all the while shaking her hips with cutting precision, mimicking the performer's movements from the popular dance video. She had every step down perfectly. Regan danced out of her room, down the stairs and into the great room. She loved the fast pace of this song. There was no time to stop and think, just move. And this room was truly great. It was all space and light. With one wall completely made of glass, it seemed like nothing was between her and the sky or the tops of the trees. She could fall in love with this room, from the huge fireplace to the gorgeous dark wood piano. In the front window with the sun shining down on her brown skin, she let her hips move in time to the music. She surrendered herself to the bass beat and with all the space the room offered, it was better than being on stage. Her round sweet ass shook to the music with the quickness of a belly dancer's and then she would slow it down and roll her toned torso, letting every muscle stretch to the rhythm. No one could shake their ass like Regan could once the music caught her, and she was caught. She eased around the furniture as if they were props in her own show, extensions of her graceful movements.

She was sliding off the back of a couch when something caught her eye and she froze.

"DAAAMN?!"

Taking her ear buds out and laying her I-pod in a chair, she stared out the patio doors in awe. The great room led out into a patio area that was almost like an extension of the room itself. And right smack dab in the middle of that extension was a pool of cool blue water calling out to her. How in heaven's name had she not seen the pool? She smiled devilishly and began to slip off her sneakers. She had learned how to swim at a Salvation Army's summer camp program for underprivileged children, but there were never enough opportunities to use the skill. She immediately wanted to feel the water on her skin, her bare skin. Even with the ear buds removed, the music still played on in her head. Her dance transformed into a tempting strip tease as she peeled the jeans down her firm thighs, swinging her tight ass from side to side. The tank, she slipped over her head and flung it high into the air, her round breasts adjusting with each movement. By the time she made it to the glass sliding doors she was stepping out of her panties. From there she ran and tucked her legs in her arms as she hit the cold water. It felt so good flowing against her nakedness. She felt free in the water. It was a rare experience for her. She swam the length of the pool and then back. She was a smooth swimmer, barely making a slit through the water. Now she knew why people skinny-dipped. It was amazing. On her back, she drifted, letting the sun warm her skin. Her perky tits pointed to the sky.

There was a diving board and she wanted to see if she remembered how to dive. She dipped under water coming up by the steps. Stepping up, out of the pool, she wiped the water from her eyes. Then she froze.

She saw his white on white Nikes first, and then she heard his voice.

"Hello."

The low, silky voice slipped into the air seemingly from out of nowhere. She was alone and then suddenly she was no longer. She wiped at her eyes in disbelief and he was sill there. The shock of it caused her heart to pause and she jerked upright in surprise, bringing her to full height with only one hand covering her throat and the other paused in the air. Everything else was bare and her perfection exposed. She could not move.

"I'm Ian."

His startling blue eyes roamed her body lazily and a half smile gently curved his generous lips.

Regan wiped more water from her eyes as it ran down her face from her thick mass of drooping curls. This time she used both her hands. She could practically feel his eyes meeting the surface of her wet skin like a soft caress, winding over her rounded hips, across her narrow waist to the darkened tips of her rising breasts. Her nipples hardened. She was paralyzed under his gaze. She simply stared, stunned, like a deer in the bright lights of an oncoming truck.

"You must be Regan."

Ian's smile spread wider, deepening the dimples beneath his cheeks. His piercing blue eyes neither wavered nor apologized as they focused on the silvery grey of Regan's. Sapphire and stone met for the first time.

"I've bought you some lunch" he said, as an afterthought, his eyes never leaving hers.

Regan's eyes remained wide in shock and wonder. Her heart raced and she found herself breathless.

This is Ian, echoed in her mind. He was blond and blue eyed and...absolutely gorgeous.

"I tell you what," he smirked, trying not to laugh. "I'll set it up in the kitchen and meet you there, once you've had a chance to put your clothes back on." One eyebrow rose up, questioning. "Or, not?"

Regan just continued to stare.

"Okay," he laughed, coming to his own conclusion. His laugh was as sexy as his voice.

Taking in her naked body one last time, Ian dipped his head, as if to politely say goodbye, gracefully turned and made his way back through the house. Regan watched him disappear.

"What the fuck," she mumbled to herself, finally coming to.

Quickly retracing her steps, she gathered up her things. There were no words to explain what was coursing through her. She was excited, nervous and ashamed. And the way he had looked at her... Those eyes! By the time she slid back into her jeans and top she had managed to finally to control her breathing. She had lost her balance a couple of times racing to put her clothes on, and stumbled. She could not find her panties at all. Surely he had heard her as she made her way through the great room, which only added to the unbearable level of embarrassment that flooded her system and heated her face. She knew that the golden brown of her face had mutated into a flaming sienna. Or, at least it felt like it. Of all the traits she may have inherited from her Caucasian father, why did blushing have to be one of them.

At first when Ian arrived, he heard nothing. He stepped into the kitchen and placed his bags on the island whistling to himself. He knew that the girl was there, somewhere in the house. Most likely he thought that she was still in her room. He went through the kitchen, and was about to mount the stairs leading to the upper level when he thought he heard something. He had just come back around the entry way when he saw her. She was dancing.

Suddenly she had just stopped and took out her ear plugs. Ian immediately assumed that she had seen him. He stepped forward, but her eyes were focused outside, past the sliding glass doors. Then she started singing the song again.

What she started doing next made Ian's mouth salivate and his dick jerk. She began taking off her clothes. But it was no simple disrobement. The girl was still moving those hips. She slipped out of her jeans, stepped to the side and kicked them up onto a side table without missing a beat. Then she removed her t-shirt and panties. Fuck. His feet were planted in place. He could not have moved even if he wanted too. The show she was putting on was just too good to miss. The dark nipples of her breasts were swaying and bouncing to her movements. They were hypnotizing. Then she just disappeared out of his sight.

Ian moved swiftly. When he made it to the patio doors, she was already completely naked and in the pool.

He stepped out onto the patio, figuring that this was as good of time as any to let his presence be known.

Ian shook his head smiling and made his way to the kitchen, remembering the food he had bought.

For a while Regan just stood in the great room debating on whether she should join him or not. She realized that going would be better than having him look for her. And she was somehow sure; he would come looking for her.

Ian had set the table in the kitchen for two and had arranged a rather large selection of Chinese take out between the two place settings. He was bent over with his face in the fridge, but he must have heard her come in because without looking up he immediately asked her what she wanted to drink.

"It doesn't matter," she told him, her voice uncharacteristically timid.

He pulled out two sodas and held it up for her inspection. Damn, she thought, he was tall. She should have expected that because his brother was so tall. But Ian was not quite as tall as Troy.

"Will this do or are you more of an organic juice kinda'girl."

Her t-shirt was thin and slightly damp, clinging to her. She had nothing to dry off with and had simply slipped back into her clothes. She knew without looking that her nipples were hard and two little raisins peeking out under her thin top. Her eyes immediately fell to where his eyes stopped. Yep, they were peeking at him.

"No, that's fine," she managed, wrapping her arms across her chest.

Ian really smiled and she felt the full force of it shine on her. It almost made her drop her arms and arc her back toward him. The effect was dazzling, drawing Regan's attention from herself.

"Um," she said, clearing her throat and her mind as she took the seat across from him. "You weren't supposed to be here. I didn't think anyone was going to be around. I mean...I just..."

His face was suddenly serious, creasing his brow, and those bright blue eyes focused solemnly on hers. "I am sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you." Then he flashed another brilliant smile, showing even white teeth that almost glowed against the healthy, summer tan of his skin. "On a pretty day like this, and no one at home, I would have done the same exact thing. As a matter of fact I have. The whole family has at some point. Except," he pondered for a moment, "maybe your father."

He turned his attention back to the food and began to emptying large amounts onto his plate.

Regan wondered what she must look like to him--a wet dog, possibly. No, she looked like a hooker on a bad day. Her hair was going to be a frizzed mess when it dried. She could only imagine how ragged it looked right now. Why had she not picked herself out a decent shirt or at least worn a bra? She did not have a lot of clothes but there were things that were more appropriate. Why had she all of a sudden decided to prance like an exotic dancer and strip naked in a stranger's house? This was not the first impression she wanted him to have of her. She was suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to have him like her. It was the same desire that overcame her when she first met with hopeful foster parents but more intense. She had wanted them to want to keep her.

She figured that Ian must create that response in many women. What female would not want him to want her? He was far beyond just being handsome. Ian McCrenna was beautiful in a very obvious masculine way. There was a perfection to his face that was mesmerizing. There was no doubt that he was Troy's little brother. But, Ian's face was slimmer, more defined. The lack of flesh in his face made him the more handsome of the two. In contrast to the hard defined line of his jaw and the straight line of his nose was the seductive fullness of his lips and the smiling warmth he mos startling blue eyes she had ever seen. That alone would be enough to make any woman drop down to her knees, but it hardly covered it. High cheekbones were surprisingly balanced by deep dimples that almost touched the rise of his cheeks. She noticed how his dimples never quite totally disappeared even when he was not smiling. They were distinctively his; Troy had none. The brothers did, however, share thick blond hair that tended to curl on Ian's untamed head and grazed the upper part of his ears. Troy's hair was reduced to professionally-manicured waves. Where his brother had been thick-necked, broad and obviously muscular, Ian was lean and long. It was obvious that he was as athletic as his brother by the way his fitted tee clung in all the right places and his jeans fit.