Morning light streamed through half-closed curtains. Ada squinted at the wide windows, then buried her face in the soft down pillow under her cheek. The sheets smelled fresh and clean, but unfamiliar. And ooohh — her whole body tingled, and she was sore between her legs in a new way that wasn’t necessarily bad, just tender. Smooth cotton rubbed against her skin — every inch of it. She was completely naked, curled up in bed, and she wasn’t alone.
Letting her eyes open just a little, she saw the slope of a broad, male back, peacefully rising and falling just inches away from her. What? Oh, God. Last night—
She blinked hard a few times, but either Wale or Tunde still lay on his stomach next to her in bed, his head turned towards the wall, one solid arm flung over her waist. The space on her other side was empty.
This had to be a dream. She was dreaming. But her body began to remember last night: opening her legs first to Tunde, then Wale in their room; collapsing into strong arms that carried her across the yard; snuggling in bed with hard male bodies on either side, resting her head on a firm chest as warm flesh pressed against her curves, letting someone’s muscled leg part hers.
Sweet Jesus. Where were her clothes? Could she sneak out and do a run of shame back to her empty house while steering clear of the neighbors? Shifting, she tried to turn over without waking the sleeping twin.
“Mmmmph,” he mumbled into his pillow, pulling her closer. Her skin buzzed from his warm touch. So much for that. And if she was being honest, she wasn’t actually ashamed. Shocked, disbelieving, but not ashamed. Slowly, her eyes opened all the way, taking in the large windows, the wardrobe topped with a beach painting, the restroom doors, and the family photos on the wall.
She knew this room, though she hadn’t set foot in here since she was young enough to sneak in and jump on the king-size mattress with Wale and Tunde. She was in Mr. and Mrs. Olanikan’s bedroom, light, airy, and spacious, sprawled in the middle of the bed with only a sheet covering her and an unidentified twin fast asleep next to her, his arm firmly wrapped over her hip.
No. Yes. She clenched her thighs together, trying not to squirm. This was real. She, Ada, certified shy girl who had worked her ass off to get into the university, who was two weeks away from her secondary school graduation, who had gone eighteen years without kissing a boy, and who had never had the nerve to live out any of her wild fantasies before yesterday afternoon, had gone around every base and then some with the boys next door.
A large framed picture of the twins, posing in caps and gowns at their own secondary school graduation two years ago, beamed down at her from the wall of photos. Athlete, good looking brown-eyed gods, oozing masculine confidence and looking like they owned the world. They probably did. What she wouldn’t give for a little of that.
Rising on one elbow, she tried to look over her shoulder at a sound in the doorway. Then she sank back into the pillow, moaning. The twin next to her stirred, his arm slipping from her waist as he turned over and settled back into sleep. A bottle of Hennessy, a bottle of beer — had she really drunk enough last night for a hangover? She wasn’t even sure what that would feel like.
But the bottle had been generous, she wasn’t a big girl, and let’s face it — other than a few sips of wine, last night had been the first time she touched alcohol.
“Drink these,” a low voice said in her ear. “Water first.”
Blindly, she wrapped her fingers around a cool glass, ice clinking against the sides, and took a long drink. Better. And she didn’t need to look to know which twin was taking care of her.
“Thanks, Wale,” she murmured, gulping another cold swallow of liquid. The mattress sank softly as he climbed into bed.
Blinking, she forced herself up on her elbows again to focus on his face. Yep, the dark birthmark under his left eye announced he was unmistakably Tunde. Naked, stretched out next to her, his face close to hers.
“Um, okay. Thanks.” She tried not to show her surprise. “How did you know that I—”
“Cause you’re a small girl who’s probably never had a strong drink before.” He gave her a devilish grin. “My brother told me he gave you a beer, but I think you had more than that.”
She rubbed her aching forehead, squinting. “Last night—”
“Happened. I took your virginity in the room after you begged me to do it. And my brother fucked you right afterward.”
“I didn’t beg,” she mumbled.
Tunde leaned in, but to her surprise, he didn’t touch her. His breath tickled her ear. “Please, Tunde,” he whispered teasingly. “Fuck me, Tunde. Not so shy anymore, are you?”
Her everything went hot. Her crotch throbbed unmistakably. “We were all kind of drunk last night.”
“Mm-hm.” More heat from his naked body, so close to hers, drove her temperature even higher. Unthinking, she kicked back the covers. Eyes traveled over her full creamy breasts, exposed above the sheet that just covered her from the waist down. “And now we’re not.”
She should leave right now, Ada thought, but boy, did she have the mother of all headaches, and jumping out of bed to walk naked past Tunde’s gaze wasn’t her idea of a graceful goodbye. She took a long drink of water, hoping to clear her head.
“Regrets?” Tunde’s face was serious now. His voice was softer than she would have expected. And she knew suddenly that if she was having this conversation with Wale, breathing easily on her other side, he would tell her the night had been amazing, she had been amazing, and that would be that. She felt grateful to Tunde, possibly for the first time ever, for wanting an answer.
“You can’t tell anyone,” she murmured.
“Our little secret.” He didn’t crack a smile.
“Then no. No regrets.” Still in shock, she sipped the rest of the water. “Where’s my swimwear? And my clothes? And — my shoes?”
Now came the smirk. “I don’t know.”
“Wale brought them in last night.”
“And my glasses?”
“I smashed them,” he said contentedly. Ada raised an eyebrow at him.
“Fine. I don’t actually need them. I just like the way they look.”
Not really, but Tunde looked so horrified that Ada started to laugh. He shook his head. “Now this.” Taking the empty water glass from her, he held out the other cup. Ada eyed the cloudy liquid suspiciously. Steeling herself, she took a big gulp of the unidentified drink and almost choked.
“This is disgusting,” she coughed. “What is this, egg yolk and hot sauce?”
“Drink it all down, baby.”
“I don’t believe this really helps a hangover. I think you just threw together something gross so you can laugh at me while I drink it.”
Tunde raised an eyebrow at her. Why did he have to be so hot? In the early morning light, she was all too aware that they were both naked, that Tunde had kicked the top sheet off his long body, and that she could really see all of him for the first time. His gaze on her breasts sent tinglings to her head, but it was a little late to feel shy now.
When he chuckled softly, she realized she was shamelessly checking him out: the angled shoulders, the swells of his biceps, the firm pecs with their tiny hard nipples, the dusting of hair on his chest that trailed down his rippling abs to — oh, God. She didn’t have the guts to look directly at his cock, but there was no question: it was large, hard, and pointing right at her.
“If Wale made it, you better believe him.”
“He doesn’t have your track record,” Ada mumbled, deciding whether to finish the drink. One gulp had woken her up, better than any alarm clock. Finally, she made herself reach over Tunde to put it on the bedside table. Her breasts brushed against his firm body, sending a shiver through her.
“No.” Tunde’s face was blank now. “He doesn’t.”
Ada studied him. Suddenly, she understood. “When you’ve gotten in trouble — like back then in secondary school when you pulled that prank that got you suspended, Wale was involved too, wasn’t he? And you took the fall.” Tunde just stared at her, so she pushed on. “I bet you always do. And you guys have an agreement about it. You’re the bad twin. He’s the good twin. That’s what everyone sees.”
“Mmmmpphhh,” came a soft grunt from behind her. The mattress creaked. Ada, startled, tried to grab the sheet as it slipped away. No use. Wale was turning over in his sleep, pulling all the blankets with him and tucking them under his body. She felt very naked now, but Tunde’s expression dared her not to grab the sheet back from Wale. His eyes flicked down to her body, drinking in her bare curves, then back to her face. Her skin began to prickle.
“It’s always worked for us,” he said finally.
Did she want to know? She didn’t want to know. Instead, she touched her fingertip lightly to the dark spot under his eye. He blinked at her. Going on instinct, she moved in to kiss him. She couldn’t say why — she just needed to, and as Tunde’s eyes widened, clearly surprised, he slowly brought a hand up to cup the back of her head and another hand on the curve of her bare ass, pulling her closer.
Then she saw the spiders.
“Tunde…?” Five of them, just waiting on the sheet by her naked arm and breast. And she’d been about to roll over onto them. She was not going to shriek. She was a big girl who didn’t freak out over bugs. “There are spiders in the bed—”
When she met his eyes, that wide-eyed look of innocent concern, she knew the truth.
“You immature fool,” she hissed, grabbing the plastic spiders and throwing them in his face. Tunde rocked with silent laughter, mashing his head against the pillow. Behind her, Wale shifted in his sleep, and she started when his hard body nudged hers.
“I can’t believe you still have these.”
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