My Best Friend's Brother

What happens when you have a steamy one night stand with your best friend's brother —yeah, the one you hate— and he returns for more?

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

Joan Madison has always despised Aaron Thompson, her best friend's arrogant, insufferable brother. The feeling was mutual—until it wasn't.

A vacation meant for relaxation with her friend Rhoda takes a different turn when Joan finds herself tangled in a steamy, reckless encounter with the one man she swore she’d never want.

What should’ve been a fleeting mistake becomes something far more dangerous as Aaron refuses to let her go—and his hunger for her only deepens.

Jo’s trapped between desire and defiance, but one thing is clear: this game they’ve started could burn them both.

Wrong Time, Wrong Place

~Joan~

“This place is... wow,” I muttered as we entered the house, it had floor to ceiling windows, a fireplace and....well, it was perfect.

But something felt slightly off.

“So... how did you know about this place?” I asked Rhoda, who sat on the couch while I walked towards the window and stared down at the view of Spain.

“Well, this is one of Aaron's properties,” she chuckled. I nodded, then paused.

My stomach dropped. What?

“He doesn’t know we're here. I have the spare keys to the building. I mean, why ask when I can just walk in?” Rhoda said, glancing at me with a small smile on her face.

“This is Aaron's house?” I asked slowly. She turned around fully, raising a brow at me.

“Yeah, it’s his.” Her voice was quiet. "What is it?"

I pinched the bridge of my nose, disbelief washing over me. The fuck?

“I can't believe you brought me to Aaron's house of all places,” I muttered. For God's sake, she knows what her brother was like and still she went ahead and brought me to his house?

Rhoda sat up straighter, her smile falling. “Exactly why I said he has no idea we’re here. Jo, your feud with my brother is seriously getting ridiculous.”

“Oh, really? You think this is ridiculous?” I snapped, crossing my arms. “Have you forgotten the time we both landed in jail and he bailed you out, leaving me there to rot?”

Rhoda opened her mouth to speak, but I cut her off. “Or the time we crashed his party, and guess who got blamed for that? Me! He called me a bad influence, told me to stop dragging you into ‘bad things.’ He acts like I’m the villain in your life.” I gritted my teeth.

“Jo...” Rhoda trailed off.

“And now you bring me to his house? You really think I won’t get blamed for this too?” I asked. If I had known, I wouldn't have followed her.

Okay maybe, I still would have. I mean who would turn down a trip to Spain? But we would have booked a hotel room.

Not here. Not this.

Rhoda stood up and turned around the couch, walking towards me.

I’m wrong and I'm really sorry. I didn’t think. I just wanted us to enjoy our girls' trip, and this house is... well, it’s perfect.” She gestured around the house, but I barely glanced at it. “I should have talked to you about it. You’re right.”

I let out a sigh.

"What next?" I asked and her shoulders sagged.

"Well, we could still stay here. He doesn’t know we're here. So...." she wringled her fingers together.

"We could still leave if you want," she added.

"If he doesn't know we're here we could stay," I muttered. Well, he wouldn't just pop up in Spain now, would he?

Rhoda grinned, and I could see the relief on her face.

“We're not gonna stay inside all day now or are we?" She asked, a glint in her eyes. I pursed my lips.

“Please tell me we’re going to see Barcelona,” She added as she grabbed my hand, and she nodded a little too fast.

“Of course! We would," I muttered as we dragged our luggage to the room were we would be staying.

Despite all that Rhoda had said, I still felt slightly uncomfortable. Knowing the house belonged to Aaron just didn't sit right with me.

And hell, I knew something was bound to go wrong. Wherever the man was concerned, something always went wrong.

After freshening up, we decided to explore the neighborhood. At least, we should familiarize ourselves with the vicinity since we'd be staying for a month.

“Tomorrow, we'll go see the Tower, yeah?,” Rhoda asked as we walked back after wandering through a few blocks.

I gave a small nod.

Rhoda sighed and tipped her head back, feeling the cool evening breeze wash over her face, she closed her eyes, a small smile playing on her face.

“It’s nice to breathe fresh air outside of New York,” she sighed. I glanced over at her and followed her lead, raising my head and staring at the dark sky.

Rhoda suddenly opened her eyes, and stared at me. I could see the mischievous glint in them.

“The first one back to the house gets a paid manicure at the fanciest salon in the city!” she said, and before I could process what she said, she darted off.

A laugh escaped me as I ran after her. But oh boy, the girl was goddamn fast.

Who knows? Maybe I would enjoy this trip after all.

We stumbled into the compound and Rhoda pushed the door open stepping in.

I followed after her but she stopped abruptly that I crashed into her back.

"What's it?" I whispered as the color drained from her face.

She remained silent and I peeked at the inside from over her shoulder.

And there he was, in the living room, swirling a glass of something dark. Whiskey maybe.

His eyes were cold and his expression closed off as he finished the last of his drink, slamming the glass on the table.

I was surprised it didn't shatter. Rhoda shuddered lightly while a small frown crept up my face.

Aaron.

The devil had arrived.

Caught In The Middle

~Joan~

Everywhere was silent. No one said a word, we just stared at each other. For a minute, or two?

But that did nothing to ease the hard expression on Aaron's face. His eyes just darted between us.

How is he here? How did he even know we were here? Rhoda had insisted he didn’t have a clue—she hadn’t even told him.

“Rhoda...” His voice was low, cold, just as it had always been. He wasn't one to talk much, but once he did, it carried a certain confidence. “Care to explain what you're doing in 'my' house, without my permission?”

Rhoda was silent. If I didn’t know her so well, I might’ve believed the man across from us wasn’t her brother. Seven years wasn’t much of a gap, but Aaron made it seem like a big deal.

He made everything seem like a big deal.

His gaze moved to me, and I mentally braced myself for what I knew was coming next.

“And you,” he muttered, his tone grew a little bit colder. I could practically sense his annoyance. “Still following my sister around, I see.”

“Okay. Before you get this all wrong, I had no idea this was your house,” I said quietly, elbowing Rhoda.

This was not the time for her to stay fucking silent.

“No idea?” He interrupted, standing up. And oh boy, the man was on the taller side.

His height could be imposing at times too.

"You want me to believe this wasn't your idea?" He asked and I pressed my lips together.

There we go.

I drew in a deep breath, ignoring the annoyance already building inside of me.

“Like I said, I had no idea this house belonged to you until we were here," I muttered.

And Rhoda still remained silent.

"And whose idea was it?" He asked, his eyes not leaving me.

"Maybe if you weren't such a controlling bastard, your sister would have told you we were going to use your house,” I bit out.

Okay. If Rhoda wasn't going to speak, I wasn’t going to keep silent and take the blame on something I knew nothing about.

Rhoda’s eyes darted from me to her brother. She dreaded him.

Aaron took a step toward me, his eyes grew darker. Rhoda raised her hand, stepping in front of me.

“Aaron, stop—please,” she said quietly. “She's right. This was my idea. Don’t take it out on her.”

She took a step closer to him, while I took one step backwards.

“You’ve always been trouble, Joan. From the very first moment I saw you, I knew you'd be trouble,” his voice had a chill to it.

I clenched my fists, resisting the urge to go all out on him. I was in his house afterall.

“You know what?” I said after a while, taking a step forward and meeting his glare head-on.

“Fuck. You.” I raised my middle finger, thrusting it in his face before storming off toward the room where we’d kept our bags.

There was no way I was letting Aaron ruin the one vacation I’d had in a year. I was going to enjoy my trip—without his godforsaken, insufferably handsome face hovering around.

I yanked my clothes out of the closet, shoving them into my bag in quick movements.

I didn’t care that it was late, I would find a hotel, spend the night somewhere else, anywhere but here.

From the hallway, I heard Rhoda’s muffled yells—she’d finally shaken off the shock, but I didn’t care anymore.

“Aaron, don’t you dare! You can’t keep being a jackass to her every time she’s around!”

Her voice grew closer, footsteps approached as I zipped my bag shut, ready to leave.

The door swung open, and there they were—Aaron just standing there and Rhoda behind him, looking exasperated.

Their gazes flicked to my packed bag, Rhoda’s eyes turned glassy as she took a step forward.

“Jo...” she whispered, her voice breaking.

I looked at her, ignoring Aaron completely.

“Just so you know,” I said calmly, “your brother is an asshole. And yeah, I’ll text you my address in the morning.”

I stepped forward, waiting for them to move out of my way.

Aaron’s voice stopped me.

“You’re not leaving at this time of night,” he said, not a statement, but an order.

I stared at him, hoping the daggers in my eyes could pierce him to death.

It would hurt Rhoda... But it was worth the try.

“No,” I said annoyed. “You don’t get to dictate what I do.”

His jaw tightened, a flicker of something dark crossed his face.

“Try me, Joan. See if I won’t drag you back here myself. And trust me, it isn't something you'd enjoy,” he muttered, and somehow the threat sent warmth curling in my lower belly.

Damn him.

“You’re going to leave in the morning,” he continued. “I’m not letting you storm off in anger and end up getting murdered somewhere, not like it would affect me. And besides...” He glanced at Rhoda. “We still need to talk.”

With that, he turned and left the room. I blinked at Rhoda, stunned.

“Did he just threaten me?” I asked.

Rhoda stepped forward, throwing her arms around me.

“I’m sorry, Jo,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly. “I never meant for this to happen. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this.”

I sighed, wrapping my arms around her.

“It’s not entirely your fault,” I murmured.

As much as I hated her brother, I couldn’t deny that he was disgustingly handsome.

“Just stay for the night,” Rhoda pleaded. “Please.”

I sighed again.

“Fine. I’ll stay,” I muttered. I wasn’t staying because of Aaron’s thinly veiled warning or the strange warmth his threat had sparked in me.

I was staying because Rhoda asked me to.

Not because of Aaron. Definitely not because of him.

Before The Weekend

~Aaron~

I was an early riser... Or maybe that was the wrong word to use. I had insomnia, so sleeping was a problem.

Which explained why I was in the kitchen by 4 a.m., fully dressed in my usual outfit—a suit—brewing coffee. I walked into the sitting room, glancing at the windows. It was already dawn. The sky was glowing red, a warning of the day ahead.

Soon enough, the girls would be awake. Speaking of "girls"... I took a sip of my coffee before walking toward the window, staring down at the quiet city, save for a few cars and early risers moving like ghosts through the streets.

I’d had a business meeting in Barcelona, which explained why I was in Spain. I was supposed to be finishing up by the weekend and returning to New York on Monday. I should’ve been thinking about work, logistics, my schedule. But I wasn’t.

No, I was thinking about what I’d come back to—my house invaded by my sister and her best friend.

Rhoda always had a streak of stubbornness in her, but it never flared into anything unmanageable. Until she met Joan. I had to give Joan credit for pulling Rhoda out of her grief after our parents died. But Joan didn’t stop there. She had a way of encouraging the wild, reckless side of my sister, feeding it like gasoline to a flame.

And the fact that Joan hated me? Well, that was just a bonus. I overheard her once telling Rhoda that I always looked like I had a stick up my ass. She’d go out of her way to ignore me or start an argument—anything to get under my skin.

And damn if it didn’t work.

I didn’t even realize how long I’d been standing there, staring out at nothing, my coffee growing cold. A movement in the house snapped me back. My body tensed, instinctively alert.

The house was big enough for all of us to avoid each other, but I could sense her. Joan. I wasn’t even looking, but I could feel her presence, the heat of her gaze boring into my back.

Closer, closer, until the room fell into that particular kind of silence that only she could create. I didn’t turn around.

She didn’t speak. She just moved past me, toward the fireplace, her movements slow and deliberate, like she had all the time in the world. I eventually turned and pinned her with a cool, assessing look.

Her ginger-red hair was piled into a messy bun on top of her head, strands escaping to frame her face. She closed her eyes, soaking in the warmth of the fire, her lashes dark against her pale skin. Those eyes, when they opened, were sharp and cunning—like a fox’s.

I moved to the island that separated the kitchen from the dining area, annoyed at myself for noticing things about her I had no business noticing. The quiet between us was thick, tense.

She stood, her movements unhurried, and walked toward me. Our eyes met—green on black—before she quickly glanced away. My gaze followed her, against my better judgment, lingering on the way her sleep shirt clung to her body, the curve of her legs in those damn shorts that barely reached mid-thigh.

She looked good in the morning, like she always did. Too good.

“If you’re done ogling me, move out of my way,” she said, her voice flat, eyes narrowed in a scowl.

I raised the mug to my mouth, taking a sip of bitter, cold coffee, eyes still on her. “This is my house,” I replied, matching her tone. “I can’t be in your way.”

Her scowl deepened, her eyes flashing with something sharper than anger. For anyone else, the look she gave me would have been enough to send them running. But not me.

She squared her shoulders, lifting her chin as if daring me to back down. I didn’t. She wasn’t tall enough to reach my height, not even on her best day, but she didn’t need height to hold her ground.

Fists clenched, lips flattened into a hard line, her whole body practically vibrating with the effort it took not to lash out. It didn’t take much to rile her up, especially if it was coming from me.

She let out a sharp huff, her gaze slicing away from mine as she moved around the island, heading for the kitchen. I didn’t turn to follow, but I knew exactly what she was doing.

Joan Madison wasn’t a morning person without her coffee. In that way, at least, we were alike.

My sister, Rhoda, appeared a moment later, her chestnut hair a wild mess, her eyes heavy with sleep.

I knew both girls slept in the same room and on the same bed. Leaving me wondering why Joan looked like that and Rhoda —like this.

She mumbled a groggy, “Morning,” as she brushed past me and stood next to Joan, who wordlessly handed her a mug.

Rhoda smiled, leaning into Joan’s shoulder as she took a sip. The sight nearly made me roll my eyes.

Rhoda turned to me, noticing that I hadn’t responded to her greeting. Her brow furrowed in confusion, and she just stared at me for a beat too long.

“We’re leaving today,” she said, her voice quiet but firm. My stomach twisted into a knot at her words. Joan didn’t even spare me a glance.

I checked my watch, taking a long stride toward the couch, my mind already racing. “Stay,” I said, my tone flat, almost indifferent.

Rhoda’s eyes widened in surprise, her sleepy expression disappearing as she processed what I’d said. “I’ll be leaving by the weekend,” I added, grabbing my suitcase.

I glanced at Joan, just long enough to catch her tense posture, before I turned back to Rhoda. She looked like she was caught between confusion and mild guilt, but Joan? Joan’s expression didn’t waver. If anything, she seemed more irritated.

Without another word, I headed for the door, suitcase in hand. I didn’t trust Joan. Not even a little bit. And I sure as hell wasn’t about to leave them here without keeping tabs on them.

I wasn’t that foolish.

What Would You Do?

~ Joan ~

I rolled my eyes as soon as he left, placing my mug on the counter. Rhoda huffed out a laugh, as she leaned on the island, a knowing smile tugging at her lips.

“He can be insufferable at times... But, he’s got a heart of gold,” Rhoda said, eyeing me from the corner of her eyes, as though daring me to disagree.

I said nothing. Because I wasn’t going to agree with her that Aaron had a heart of gold. Nope. I was convinced he doesn’t even have one to begin with. All I ever saw was his coldness, his need for control. How she could see past that, I didn’t know.

“You’re staying, right?” she asked, and I glanced at her as I rinsed the mug, the water slipping through my fingers as I tried to focus on something other than Aaron.

She shifted on her feet uncomfortably, sensing the weight of my silence, as I stared at her from under my lashes.

“I mean, he’ll be gone by the weekend... that’s just two days away,” she added, a little too quickly. “We could have the whole building to ourselves,” she gushed, her eyes silently imploring me to stay.

I swallowed nothing, dabbing my hands on a towel as I considered her offer. As much as I wanted to leave to avoid Aaron's suffocating presence, the idea of just Rhoda and me, with no one else, was tempting.

“Rhoda, I...”

“Please...” Rhoda pleaded, clasping both of her hands together and giving me her best puppy eyes. A tiny smile broke out on my face as hope lit up her eyes.

“I’ll be staying...” I said, watching her light up with relief. Her smile was so genuine it sent a pang through my heart. “Just because the asshole is leaving,” I added, and she nodded furiously, as if agreeing would make sure nothing could spoil our plans.

She tugged on my hair lightly before scurrying off to the room, muttering a few words as she left. I shook my head, picking up her mug and rinsing it off. As much as I adored her, Rhoda could be impulsive, living in her own world where everything works out. I, on the other hand, was always bracing for impact.

Rhoda was like family to me, and even though Aaron seemed bent on driving a wedge between us, we’d always been the kind of duo that bounced back, stronger than before. That’s why I’d stay. For her. Not for him.

Oh yeah, I’m staying. As much as the house was beautiful, its owner was still a dickhead.

---

We’d explored the city of Madrid, and just like in the papers, it was beautiful. But there was something about being there in person, with the energy of the city pulsing through the air, that took my breath away.

The clock tower was awe-inspiring, towering above us, and it explained why the citizens of Spain always flocked around it. There was a certain magic to this place that made me forget, even if just for a moment, about everything waiting back at the house.

By the time we’d finished going around, seeing the Plaza Mayor, the royal palace, the El Retiro Park... it was already getting dark.

“It’s 5 p.m.,” Rhoda muttered, glancing at her phone. I stood, staring at the park, my body sweaty and tingling with exhaustion, but the excitement still strummed in my veins.

“We should head back,” I said, wiping my brow, but when I glanced at her, Rhoda was smiling mischievously.

“What is it?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at her. There was something off about that grin.

She looked down at her phone again, her excitement bubbling over, far beyond the thrill of sightseeing.

“Lucas is around. He asked me to meet him,” she said with a little laugh, like it was the most casual thing in the world.

I stared at her like she’d suddenly lost her mind. “You’re kidding, right?”

I knew Rhoda had an ulterior motive when she picked Spain for our vacation. She’d been chatting with this stranger for the last two months, and I had a sinking feeling this trip had less to do with seeing Madrid and more to do with finally meeting him.

“It’s dangerous,” I said, my voice firmer now. Her smile faltered.

“He isn’t, Jo. He’s actually really friendly,” she muttered, but I rolled my eyes. It was always the friendly ones that turned out to be a psychopath.

“I’m coming with you then,” I said, digging into my bag and coming up with a pepper spray and a taser.

A few passersby gave us weird looks, but I didn’t care. Better safe than sorry.

“Jo, this isn’t New York. This is Spain, one of the safest places in the world,” she pointed out, eyeing the items in my hand. “You can’t come with me. It’s our first time meeting, and I want to make a good impression,” she insisted.

“Good impression that could lead to death? Hell no,” I snapped, shivers running down my spine as memories I’d pushed to the back of my mind tried to resurface.

“Jo...”

“I don’t want to seem like a third wheel between you and Lucas, but you barely know the man,” I said, trying to get her to see my point.

“Fine.” She huffed, and I sighed in relief—until she snatched the pepper spray from my hand. “But I’m still going prepared,” she smirked, stuffing the can into her handbag.

“No. You’re not doing this. We’ll go back home and replan—”

But she was already leaning in to press a kiss on my cheek. “Unfortunately, Jo, you don’t get to decide for me,” she muttered before sauntering off. Mumbling a 'see you at home'... And then, she was gone.

I didn’t follow after her. I just stood there, watching her disappear into the crowd, and realized she was right. I couldn’t decide for her. She was a grown-ass woman. Even if I had my fears and concerns, that was my burden to carry, not hers.

Still, the nagging sense of dread followed me all the way to the subway, the weight in my stomach growing heavier with every step. I boarded the bus that would take me back to Aaron’s house. I’d input the address into my GPS so I wouldn’t get lost, but now I kind of wished I had.

The compound was eerily quiet when I arrived, and I regretted not sticking with Rhoda. Being alone, especially here, suddenly didn’t seem like such a great idea.

I pushed the door open and entered. My breath caught in my throat. Aaron was home, leaning on the kitchen island with a glass of something dark in his hand.

His eyes, as black as the night outside, washed over me before moving behind me, searching for Rhoda.

I ignored the flutter in my chest, that stupid, traitorous pulse that sped up every time he looked at me, and headed toward my room.

“Where’s she?” His voice cut through the silence, sharp and cold, the words like a blade skimming the surface.

I could have pretended not to hear him, just walked into the room and closed the door behind me. But she was his sister. If anything happened to her, he needed to know.

“She went to meet the man she’s been chatting with for two months,” I said as dryly as I could, not even bothering to look at him.

His eyes flicked to me, darkening.

“What do you mean by that?” There was a new edge to his voice now, one that made my skin prickle.

I rolled my eyes, tired of this. “Exactly what you heard.”

“She went to meet a stranger, and you couldn’t stop her or go with her?” His voice grew hard, his anger rippling just beneath the surface, and I could feel it creeping into me, waking the anger in my blood.

I straightened up, turning to face him with a dry, defiant look.

“Rhoda is a grown woman. She decided to meet with someone she’s known for two months. Who am I to stop her?” I challenged.

He dropped his glass on the counter and straightened to his full height, stepping forward. The space between us wasn’t much, and I knew he could cross it in two strides if he wanted to.

“She isn’t a fucking grown woman who can just wander around a city she barely knows at night,” he growled, his voice low, vibrating with controlled fury.

I tilted my head to the side, a cold smile tugging at the corner of my lips.

“If you’re so worried about her, why don’t you call her?” I said lightly, acting as though the tension buzzing between us didn’t set every nerve in my body on fire.

Before I could process what was happening, he was on me, shoving me against the window, my back slamming into the glass as his hand wrapped around my throat—not hard enough to hurt, but enough to send a message.

His nose flared, the anger radiating off him in waves. And yet, beneath that, something else simmered, something darker, more dangerous. My pulse raced in my neck, and I knew he could feel it.

“I should’ve gotten rid of you when I had the chance,” he said, his voice thick and dripping with venom. His chest pressed into mine, his hips close enough that I could feel the heat of his body. “Maybe then, you wouldn’t have influenced her so badly.”

“Let go of me, Mr. Thompson,” I said, my voice cool. Not betraying the storm raging inside of me.

He smirked, it was sharper, dangerous. His grip around my neck tightened, before he suddenly released me and spun me around. I gasped as I my body hit the cold glass again, this time it was face first. My palms flattened against the window.

Aaron's chest pressed against my back, his body heat seeping into me. His hands slid down my arm, then my waist. I could feel his rough fingers against my hip. He was close, too close and worse... I wanted more.

“What would you do,” he whispered “If I took you right here, right now, against this window? Make you beg me to let you come?”

My stomach tightened. Fear, anger and desire coursing through me. I should push him away, should tell him to get off me, but I didn't. I instead arched into him.

“I'd like to see you try, Mr. Thompson,”

Crossing The Line

~Joan~

Everything happened too fast. One minute, my gown brushed against my thighs modestly, and in the next?

It was bunched around my waist, leaving me exposed.

The sound of something being torn filled the air and I knew that was my panties.

A shiver ran down my spine as the cool air hit my bare skin, and despite myself, a twisted smile crept onto my lips.

I can’t believe we’re doing this. His dick pressed against the crack of my ass, and I arched into him, as warmth rushed to every part of my body

“This is what you want, right?” he whispered, his voice rough and breath hot against my ear.

A knot twisted tight in my stomach as I shook my head.

“Don’t bring your mouth near me,” I bit out, keeping my voice steady, almost detached.

I couldn’t let him see how this affected me.

I felt him smirk against my neck as he pulled back.

“Oh, Joan.” His voice was almost mocking.

“I have no intention of touching you with my lips.” His fingers found their way inside me, and a moan slipped out before I could bite down hard enough to hold it back.

“Yeah. Moan for me, like the little slut you are,” he growled, and something inside me tightened, the fire burning hotter.

“So wet for me,” he muttered through gritted teeth, his fingers moving rhythmically. “How long have you wanted this? Wanted to get me out of your system just like I do?” His voice was taunting, and I gritted my teeth.

“Just shut up and fuck me,” I spat, trying to erase the smug satisfaction in his tone.

I heard the sound of a zipper, the crinkle of foil, and then—before I could fully process it—he was inside me, filling me in a way that left me breathless.

Oh, he carries a condom around? That was.... well, I'd think about it later.

His hands stayed planted on the wall beside me, caging me in without a single touch.

His chest didn’t even graze my back, but he was inside me, dragging me into something dark and dangerous.

His thrusts were hard and fast, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming back in.

I shuddered when he found that sweet, perfect spot that sent pleasure rocketing through me.

I was on the edge, so close, when suddenly—he pulled out.

He fucking pulled out.

I glared at him from over my shoulder, furious, as he rubbed my clit in lazy circles with his finger, but it was not enough to push me over.

“Already coming apart, huh?” he sneered. I huffed.

“Pretty pathetic for a guy who doesn't last,” I snapped, trying to hit a nerve.

His laugh was low, unbothered. “I know exactly what you’re trying to do, Joan. It’s not going to work.”

He slid back inside me, keeping just enough distance to deny me the release I craved, hitting every part of me except the one that would send me over the edge.

My nails scraped the window, frustration building, pressure coiling inside me.

“Say it. Beg me to let you come,” he rasped, his voice a growl, and the sound of our skin meeting filled the room, the scent of us thick in the air.

I knew Rhoda could walk in at any moment, and somehow, the thought only made me grow wetter.

“Say it,” he repeated, his hand wrapping around my throat. It was the first time he’d truly touched me, and my pulse jumped beneath his fingers.

He hit that spot again, teasing me, once, twice, enough to drive me to the brink, then pulling back.

My lips parted. Screw this.

“Pl… please,” I murmured, holding myself up even as my legs threatened to give way.

My control was slipping, and I hated it—hated him for pushing me here.

Then he drove into that spot again. Once, twice and I shattered, my walls clenching around him as I let go, letting the orgasm tear through me.

I closed my eyes as light burst behind them, every nerve alight. It had been so long—too long.

He didn’t slow, his movements becoming frantic as he chased his own release.

I felt him swell inside me, his groan rough in my ear, and then he let go, his grip on my throat loosening as he came.

Reality crept back in slowly.

I watched him as he removed the condom, tying it off with an unreadable expression in the reflection of the window.

I tugged my dress down, already feeling his absence between my legs.

What have I done?

We didn’t look at each other as I picked up the torn scrap of my panties from the floor.

I walked towards the room I shared with Rhoda, opened the door with trembling fingers, and slipped inside.

The door clicked shut behind me and I leaned against it, closing my eyes.

I'd just fucked my best friend's brother.