MOAN FOR ME MOANA

MY LITTLE FLOWER IN MY BED

♡DYLAN♡

My room was exactly what Moana would've expected if she'd ever thought about it…which she probably hadn't.

Dark blue walls. A king-sized bed with black sheets. Basketball trophies lined up on shelves. A desk covered in textbooks I have never looked at. Everything neat and organized in a way that felt very me.

I kicked the door shut behind us and carried her to the bed, laying her down carefully on top of the covers.

She watched through half-closed eyes as I knelt down and reached for her feet.

My hands were warm as I unbuckled the first heel. I slid it off gently. Then the second one.

"That girl at the ice cream parlor," Moana said, her words slurred but clear enough. "Did you..."

My hands stilled on her ankle. I looked up at her.

"Why are you suddenly bringing that up?"

"Because I want to know." Moana pushed herself up slightly on her elbows, even though it made her head pound. "Did you f**k her? Really? You left me waiting... you purposely took me there to f**k her."

"Moana..."

She went quiet.

The second time I'd called her by her actual name instead of Queens. And I hated how much I liked the way it sounded on my lips.

I set her heels aside and stood up, running a hand through my hair.

"I didn't f**k her," I said bluntly.

"But I heard her moaning!" Moana's voice rose slightly, anger cutting through the drunk haze. "I heard everything through that door. You were..."

"I only used my fingers," I cut her off, my jaw tight. "Her cunt was too wide anyway." I rolled my eyes.

Moana blinked.

"I still don't like it," she said quietly. "You should touch only me."

"Shut up, Queens." My voice was rough. "You're drunk."

"I'm sober now."

"You're not."

I moved to my dresser, pulled out a t-shirt. Came back and held it out to her.

"Do you want to change clothes?" I asked.

Moana didn't take the shirt. She just looked up at me.

"Why have you been avoiding me?"

"I haven't been avoiding you..."

"Liar." Her eyes burned into mine. "You have, and I don't like it. It hurts... You make me feel..."

"Queens." My voice dropped, my control visibly fraying. "I'm trying not to kiss you right now. I'm holding myself back from fcking your tight little p***y and you're not making it easy with the clothes you wear every day..."

"Then kiss me."

I stared at her, Moana would never say that in her right mind. She's so fiercely stubborn.

"What?"

"Yes, dickhead." Moana sat up fully now, her head swimming but her focus sharp. "Kiss me. I hate that you kissed Bethany. I hate that you touch other girls. I hate..."

"You're my stepsister, Queens. If this goes wrong it will destroy everything"

"I don't care. They're not even married yet."

The words hung between us, heavy.

My jaw clenched. My hands flexed at my sides, I was physically restraining myself.

We stared at each other.

The air in the room went thick, suffocating with everything unsaid.

Then I moved.

I closed the distance between us in two steps, my hand coming down to cup her jaw. Moana's breath hitched. I felt her heart slam against her ribs.

I leaned in.

She leaned up.

Our faces were inches apart. I could feel her breath on my lips, warm and unsteady. I was battling with want and restraint.

Our lips were almost touching.

Almost…

Moana lurched forward and threw up.

All over my floor. Some of it splattered on my shoes, the bottom of my jeans.

"f**k!" I jumped back.

But Moana didn't hear me. The second the vomit left her body, the room spun violently and she collapsed backward onto the bed, completely unconscious.

I stood frozen, staring at her passed-out form, then down at the mess on my floor and my ruined jeans.

"Jesus Christ," I muttered.

I looked down at myself. My shoes were splattered. The bottom of my jeans were wet with vomit. There were even some on my shirt.

I looked at Moana. She was completely out, face turned to the side on my pillow, mouth slightly open, breathing deep and even.

"f**k," I cussed again.

I stepped carefully around the mess on the floor and headed to my bathroom. Stripped off my shoes first, then my jeans, then my shirt. Everything went into a pile in the corner. I'd deal with it later.

I washed my hands thoroughly, splashed water on my face, and grabbed a pair of gray sweatpants from my drawer. Pulled them on, then found a clean black t-shirt.

When I came back out, Moana still hadn't moved.

I looked at the mess on my floor and sighed. I grabbed paper towels from the bathroom, cleaning spray, and a trash bag.

I worked quickly and efficiently, wiping up everything, spraying down the floor until the smell started to fade. Threw all the dirty paper towels into the trash bag, tied it up, and set it outside my door to take downstairs later.

The whole time, my mind was racing.

She'd said kiss me, I should touch only me. She'd admitted she hated seeing me with other girls.

She had been hurting because of what happened with Becca, I didn't f**k the b***h.

I grabbed a clean washcloth from my bathroom, ran it under warm water, wrung it out, and came back to the bed.

I sat down carefully on the edge, trying not to jostle her.

Moana's makeup was smudged…mascara under her eyes, lipstick worn off unevenly. Her hair was a mess, half falling out of whatever style she'd had it in earlier.

I gently wiped her face with the warm cloth. Got rid of the mascara smudges, cleaned around her mouth. She didn't even stir. Just kept breathing slow and deep, completely dead to the world.

When I was done, I set the washcloth on my nightstand and just sat there looking at her.

She was in my bed.

Moana Queens was passed out drunk in my bed, wearing a tight black dress that had ridden up her thighs, and she'd just asked me to kiss her.

I ran a hand over my face.

This was so f****d.

I shouldn't want her this much. I shouldn't be sitting here staring at her like some creep. I shouldn't have almost kissed her knowing exactly how wrong it was.

But I'd been lying to myself for weeks now.

This wasn't just an attraction. It wasn't just the forbidden thrill of wanting something I couldn't have.

I was falling for her.

I had been falling since the very first time we crossed paths in school, since the first time she'd called me a dickhead with fire in her eyes, since every argument, every loaded glance, every time she pretended she didn't feel the same pull I did.

I stood up and looked at my floor…. The perfectly reasonable option of sleeping literally anywhere else.

Then I looked at Moana.

Fuck it.

I walked around to the other side of the bed, pulled back the covers, and slid in beside her. Pulled the blanket up over both of us.

Moana shifted slightly in her sleep but didn't wake.

I lay on my side facing her. My hand found her waist naturally, settled there like it belonged. I pulled her a little closer, and she came easily, her body curling into mine even in sleep.

Her back pressed against my chest. Her head tucked under my chin. My arm wrapped around her waist, holding her secure.

This was dangerous. This was crossing about fifteen different lines.

But I didn't move.

I lay there in the dark, feeling her breath, feeling her warmth against me, and let myself have this one thing I shouldn't want.

Eventually, my eyes grew heavy. And I fell asleep with my little flower in my arms.