Forbidden Love (3 page)

“I thought we’d go after lunch,” her dad said. “If the boys aren’t awake when we get home, I’m sure they’ll get up for a chance to go to Lambeau.”

“You’re probably right. I wonder if Dylan has any warm clothes with him?”

“Robbie can loan him a coat. I was thinking that if they wanted to wear their uniforms we could probably get seats down by the bench.”

“Ernest, really?” her mother looked appalled.

“What?”

“Using those boys for ticket upgrades?”

“No, it’s not like that. Amanda, help me out here.”

“He’s right. The NFL is big on veterans. It’s free advertising.”

“You’re both terrible, you know.” Her mother took a sip of her tea. “But I hope you have a good time, anyway.”

“I’m sure we will,” her dad said.

The waitress returned with a stack of appetizer plates and a steaming dish of bread and spinach dip. “The spinach-artichoke dip, folks.” She set it in the middle of the table and passed the plates. “Do you want to wait for the rest of your party before you order?”

“They won’t be joining us,” her father said. “We can order now.”

Amanda paged through the menu, pretending to look for something, but she settled on the same chicken tender salad she normally ordered.

Lunch went quickly with idle chatter about the Badgers and Packers and nothing that could get Robbie and Dylan into trouble.

T
HE drive to Green Bay was painless, and with the boys both wearing their uniforms, getting into the stadium was easier than ever. They weren’t able to upgrade seats, but no one complained when they received passes to go down to the sideline before the game.

Amanda stuck closer to her dad than to Robbie and Dylan, unsure what to make of their relationship.

“What’s wrong, hon?” her dad asked. “Go with the boys. Get an autograph.”

“Nah. I want them to enjoy it. This is about them, not me.”

“Are you sure? Robbie won’t mind.”

“Really, Dad. I’m good.”

She edged around him and went over by the kickers. They had their little hockey goal things setup and were taking turns pounding balls into them. Each kick shook the frame and lifted the goal off the ground a few inches.

“Hey, what’s your name?” one of the kickers called to her.

“Amanda.”

“You ever kick a football before?” He beckoned her over.

“No.”

“You want to try?”

“I don’t have the shoes for it.” His face fell, but tearing up her favorite flats wasn’t high on her list of priorities, and going barefoot in the Wisconsin cold was even lower. “Why don’t you show me how, though?”

He grinned. Jackson his jersey said. She felt bad for not knowing who he was. Must be a backup. He had a triangular holder and used it prop the ball up on the turf.

“You have to pace yourself back like this.” He took three steps backward. “And then over.” Two more sideways steps. “Then you go back along the same line and power through the ball.” He hammered it into the net.

“I don’t think I could do it. I’d pull something.”

Jackson grinned. “You sure? I don’t mind.”

“Hey, sis, come here!” Robbie called from farther down the sideline.

“I gotta run,” she said to Jackson. “Thanks for the lesson.”

“Yeah, sure, any time.”

She hustled away toward Robbie and Dylan. “Oh, shit,” she said to herself as she approached Robbie. He was standing there with Dylan, the Packers starting quarterback between them.

“Come get in the picture,” Dylan said.

She slid between Robbie and the quarterback, let them each slip an arm around her shoulder.

“Smile,” her dad said. He snapped a picture with his phone.

“You guys enjoy the game,” the quarterback said. He flashed a grin to her.

“Right on, dude. Give ‘em hell.” Robbie slapped him on the shoulder pads as he rejoined his teammates.

“The platoon is
not
going to believe that,” Robbie said.

“They’ll believe the picture, though,” Amanda said.

“Yup.” Dylan grinned, his face practically split in half.

Her dad pocketed his camera and pulled on his gloves. “Let’s go find our seats.”

They made their way up to the bowl of seats of that surrounded the field. The first quarter went quickly, but the cold started to take hold midway through. Away from the sideline heaters, the “Frozen Tundra” nickname had never felt so apt. Amanda pulled her coat tighter, wishing she’d let her mom come instead.

Next to her, Dylan’s teeth chattered. “You okay there?” her dad asked.

“Yeah. New Mexico doesn’t have weather like this. Neither does Kandahar.”

“Amanda, why don’t you and Dylan go get us some hot chocolate?” Her dad suggested. “Give him a few minutes to warm up.”

She shrugged. “You want to?”

“Okay.” He rubbed his gloved hands together.

She let him lead and make a path through the crowd, guiding him with instructions from behind. They stopped in the atrium at the end of a long line of people waiting to order food.

“Is this place always so crowded?” Dylan asked.

“Yeah. Season tickets have been sold out since 1960.”

“No shit?”

“Yup.”

“You come to many games?”

“Not really. We’ve made a few family trips over the years, and Dad and Robbie used to go to some when Robbie was in high school.”

“Must have been nice.” He sounded wistful.

“If you like cold. So you and Robbie are pretty good friends?”

“Sure, I guess. Good enough for him to invite me home for Thanksgiving.”

“Did you guys know each other before he got to Afghanistan?”

“No.” His eyebrows hunched together. “Why do you ask?”

“Just curious. You seemed like
really
good friends.”

His eyes flicked away, then back. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you slept in the same bed last night.”

“Soldiers get used to sleeping in tight quarters.”

“How long have you two been fucking?”

“What? What are you talking about?” His voice rose, betraying any hope he had of bullshitting her.

“This morning I heard the bed squeaking. I thought Alison had snuck in. Then I saw you two doing it.”

The blood drained from his face. “Stop. Don’t say anything else.”

“Well, I’m a bit surprised. Robbie wasn’t gay when he joined the Marines.”

“He’s not gay now. Not really.” He wiped his head, lowered his voice. “Look, you can’t tell anyone. It gets so lonely out there. There aren’t any women around, not unless you want to run the risk of getting stabbed or kidnapped or something.”

“So you just fuck each other? I thought you were in the Marines, not the Navy.”

“Would you stop. Please? We can both get kicked out if anyone finds out.”

They shuffled forward, halfway to the front of the line already. “So if you’re not gay, why are you fucking each other here? Alison wanted Robbie’s dick so bad last night that half of Waukega knew it. Shit, they’re going to think Robbie’s gay just for not sticking it in her to shut her up.”

“He probably would have. He was too drunk.”

“Well, what about you? I put the moves on you last night, and you hardly responded.”

“What’ll you have, folks?” the guy at the register asked.

She looked up, surprised they were already at the front. “Uh, four hot chocolates.”

“Twenty-eight dollars.”

“Damn, that’s expensive,” Dylan said as she paid.

“Typical stadium prices.” They both took a cup in each hand. “So, anyway.”

“I didn’t feel like it was right to mess around with a guy and his sister both.”

“Do you want me to hook you up with one of my friends? I’m sure I could find you one.”

“No, it’s not like that.”

“So you’re really gay, but Robbie’s not? Now I’m confused.”

“No. Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Have you ever been with a girl before?”

He stopped, almost making her run into him. After a second and no response, he started moving again.

“You
haven’t!
” She smiled. “Alright, well, if you decide you want to find out what it’s like, let me know, okay?”

He shook his head, but didn’t say anything.

“What took you guys so long?” Robbie asked when they returned.

She passed him the spare cup. “The lines were hellacious.”

He took a sip. “Man, that’s good, though. Worth it, I’d say.”

“Glad you like it.” Below them, the game was in progress. She sat and watched, waiting for Dylan to say anything, but he did his best to pretend she wasn’t even there.

Her dad made the next trip for nachos at half-time, and she left by herself midway through the third quarter to visit the ladies’ room. The rest of the evening plodded along, Dylan studiously ignoring her, and Robbie and her dad talking about games they’d seen in the past and who the Pack were likely to face in the playoffs.

When the game finally ended, she couldn’t wait to get in the Tahoe and finally be warm again. Robbie sat in the backseat beside her, graciously letting Dylan ride shotgun and have the extra leg room. She was asleep before they were even out of the parking lot.

A
MANDA padded down the stairs in her pajamas, careful not wake Dylan on the couch. She assumed he was on the couch, and hadn’t crept into Robbie’s bed again. As she turned the corner for the kitchen, she peered into the living room and saw him looking up at her.

“You getting a midnight snack?” he asked.

“Just something to drink. Care for anything?”

“Sure.” The blankets rustled, then he followed her into the kitchen. He had his PT shorts on again, and a tight gray t-shirt that had “Marines” in faded lettering across the front.

“You not have anything warmer than that?”

“I’m good. The blankets keep me plenty warm.”

“I’m sure Dad or Robbie would loan you some pajama pants if you wanted them.”

“Really, I’m good. In the field I sleep nude most of the time.”

“That must be convenient.” She took a glass from the cupboard beside the sink. “You know, if anyone else crawls into your bunk.”

He sighed. “It’s not like that, you realize that, right?”

“Fit, horny dudes, all alone in the middle of nowhere? I bet you guys burn through condoms by the case.” She filled her glass from the tap on the fridge.

“So about what you said earlier.”

“The drink?”

“When we were in line.”

Her pulse quickened. “About you and a girl?”

“About me and you.”

She took another sip of her water, used the time to look him over. The bulge in the front of his shorts ruined any chance of subtlety he hoped to have. “Alright. Your place or mine?”

He looked at her, confused.

“I’m kidding. Let’s arrange the couch to cover our tracks.” It only took a minute to stuff a couple throw pillows under his blanket to give the couch a pretense of being occupied. It wasn’t good enough to hold up under the least bit of scrutiny, but anyone passed by in the dark, it would be better than nothing.

Dylan followed her into her bedroom and let her close the door. “Do you have any condoms? I don’t—”

She cut him off with a kiss. He returned it this time, eager and willing. His hands slipped behind her, one holding her back, the other cupping her ass. She ground herself against him, rubbing up and down his erection, crushing it against her pussy. Dylan pulled away briefly, took a breath, came back for more.

Their tongues collided, wrestled. She tried to suck the air from his lungs, making him jerk away, laughing as he gasped for air.

“Come to bed,” she said, taking his hand and guiding him. He sat and waited while she dug a condom from the nightstand and tore it open. “Lose the shorts.”

He peeled out of his PT shorts, revealing a good seven inches of rock hard Marine dick. His hair was trimmed neatly. It made her grin. A man that took care of himself was a man that knew how to please a girl. Or a boy. Whatever.

He let her put the condom on his prick, then slipped her pajama pants over her hips. She wriggled out of her panties and pulled off her t-shirt.

“Just a second,” she said, reaching for the nightstand.

“What?”

“We need a little lube.” She squirted some onto her fingers and rubbed it into her folds. The rest went on the condom. “Now lean back.”

She crouched above him, took him in one hand, guided him toward her. The condom pressed against her, pulling briefly, then he slipped inside. She hissed out a sigh of pleasure as he filled her. It had been too long. Slowly, she worked her hips up and down his shaft.

“Do you like that?”

“It’s different,” he said.

“Different?”

“I’ve only been with guys. It’s not as tight.”

She squeezed herself around him. His eyes went wide. “Take off my bra,” she whispered.

He fumbled at the clasp, but finally got it off. She leaned over him, giving him a close-up view of her chest. His hands moved to her breasts, cupping and caressing, then teasing her nipples.

“I bet none of your guys had a rack like this,” she said.

“No.”

“Do you like them?”

“They’re amazing.” He leaned up, stopped a few inches away. “Can I lick them?”

“Of course!”

His tongue traced slow circles. He teased around her nipples, then sucked at the hard nub. Just a hint of teeth rubbed her, making her skin prickle.

His hands found her ass, pulled her down into his thrusts. They moved slowly for a while, then built into a frenzy of panting and thrusting and squeezing and licking.

She bore her mouth down onto his, smothering him with kisses. He clawed at her ass, demanding more, faster, harder, deeper. Their bodies slapped together.

Dylan tore his head away and groaned. His cock flexed inside her. He shuddered, panting.

“Oh, Robbie,” he groaned as he came.

When he finished convulsing, he lay still, spent.

Amanda stopped, shocked. After a few seconds she lowered herself down completely and lay against him, feeling his heart pounding with her chest, unsure what to make of him saying her brother’s name. “I take it you liked it?”

“Uh huh.”

“Good.” She kissed his chin, feeling the stubble with her lips, then lifted herself away. “You should probably get back downstairs before anyone realizes you’re up here.”