On My Brother's Bed
"You walked into my room, Astrid. No bra. No panties. What did you expect me to do? Pray?"
"I expect you to look away."
"Look away?" he chuckled in a low, dangerous tone as he trod toward me. "Baby, I've looked away for damn five years."
~
When Astrid returns home for summer, she's expecting chill nights and zero drama.
Except her brother's best friend–Rhett Rivers–is crashing at their house. And he has grown into every bit of the trouble she shouldn't want.
One time at a party leads them to an unforgettable one nightstand
What if Astrid Cole realizes she'd not just had sex with her brother's best friend but also let him touch her in some kind of way she never felt?
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Chapter 5
Chapter 5
Astrid's POV
I straightened up and almost dropped my phone when I saw Rhett standing in my room.
Thank goodness he hadn't seen what I was staring at.
But then he asked, "Have you been staring at my picture?"
I froze.
My lips parted and I blinked, completely thrown off.
Rhett stepped closer–close enough for me to breathe in that familiar cedarwood scent. It filled my lungs, and somehow made my stomach flutter.
I was doomed.
Rhett Rivers had just caught me touching myself, and yes, I had been staring at his photo. A picture he'd sent not long ago, shirtless and soaked in sweat after the gym. I didn't know if he meant to send it. But I hadn't stopped thinking about it since.
"Did I just see you touch yourself, Astrid?" Rhett asked, his voice low, his tone unreadable–a mixture of shock, hunger, and something dangerous.
The closer he came, the more intense his gaze felt. Those hazel eyes locked on mine like I was a problem he couldn't figure out, and a craving he'd tried to suppress
"I-I don't know what you're talking about," I said quickly, my voice barely steady as I leaned back into the headboard.
He raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Really?"
I turned my face. "Yes."
Silence filled the space between us until I tried to break it. "And Micah? Where is he?"
Rhett sighed, walking back just a little. "He left to see a friend."
"Oh." I nodded.
I was silently praying for him to leave, to give me space, but Rhett didn't move. He stood there like a damn statue, watching me.
"Are you not going to leave?" I snapped.
A gentleman would walk away.
But Rhett Rivers? He never made anything easy.
He leaned against the wall and said, "Are you trying to erase the thought of what happened last night, Astrid?"
What the–
I blinked rapidly, my throat tightening.
No. I didn't want to talk about it. No way.
I couldn't tell Rhett I remembered it was him I'd slept with. I couldn't give him that power.
"No. I don't remember anything," I lied, forcing the words out, hating how fake they sounded.
Rhett just stared at me for a long second before nodding stiffly. Then he turned and walked out.
I collapsed back onto the bed and sighed like I'd just survived a hurricane.
After an hour, Micah came home looking exhausted, but still cheerful. Just like he always was.
"I'm leaving again tomorrow," he announced, barely five minutes into being home.
"Seriously?" I raised a brow.
Rhett, who was lounging on the couch beside Micah, added, "Are you always this busy?"
Micah laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Of course. Someone has to make money and give Astrid the soft life she deserves. It's important."
He reached over and pinched my cheek gently.
I glanced at Rhett from the corner of my eye but avoided meeting his gaze. Still, I felt the burn of his eyes on me.
I took a spoon of dessert to distract myself.
"Still," I murmured, "you don't have to wear yourself out. You could fall sick."
Micah looked at me and chuckled. "Are you siding with Rhett now?"
"What? No," I quickly said. "I'm just concerned for my brother."
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Rhett's smirk.
Dammit, he was infuriating.
*
The next day, Micah left early for his trip.
By evening, I returned home alone. I'd been out for hours with Talia just to avoid the awkward silence that always came when it was just Rhett and me.
The house was quiet when I walked in.
I headed upstairs, hoping Rhett was out or asleep. But as I passed Micah's room, I heard water running from the bathroom.
My brows pulled together. Had he forgotten to turn off the tap?
I pushed the door slightly open to check.
Right there, I saw Rhett Rivers.
Completely naked, stepping out of the shower, water still dripping from his toned, muscular body.
I gasped and let out a loud scream, jerking back.
"Shit!" Rhett muttered, grabbing a towel and quickly wrapping it around his waist.
"I–I didn't know you were in here!" I shouted, my face burning into embarrassment as I turned around and squeezed my eyes shut.
"Do you normally just walk into bathrooms?" he asked, clearly amused.
"I thought the tap was leaking!" I shouted back.
"Well, it wasn't," he said, voice lower now.
I peeked over my shoulder. He was still standing there, water glistening on his chest, towel low on his hips.
And God help me, he looked so good I almost lost the ability to breathe.
"Did you see something you like?" he teased.
I turned back around fast. "Stop."
"You started it. First, you touch yourself to my photo. Now, you walk in on me naked. Are you obsessed with me, Astrid?"
I turned back slowly, fire creeping up my cheeks.
He was still watching me with that damn smirk.
"You're impossible," I whispered.
"And you're turned on."
"Am not."
He took a step forward.Another step. The space between us thinned.
"Rhett, stop."
"Then say it like you mean it. Admit it. You have something for me, baby."
I didn't.
He suddenly leaned down, his lips hovering just above mine.
"You're Micah's best friend," I whispered, but my voice shook.
"And you're the girl I've been trying not to think about for too damn long. Do you even know about it? Damn no."
That was the last thing he said before he crushed his lips against mine.
Our mouths collided in an explosion of heat and frustration. His hands cupped my face while my fingers dug into his shoulders, tugging him closer. The towel slipped slightly, but I didn't care.
I should've stopped. I should've pulled away.
But I didn't want to.
His kiss was rough, urgent, like he'd been waiting for this moment since forever.
My back hit the hallway wall as he pressed into me. I felt Rhett's erection right there and I melted away.
I wanted him that instant. I didn't care. I wanted my brother's best friend.
I broke the kiss and crouched to my knees. Rhett stared down at me, speechless.
Without a second thought, I finally slipped off the towel around his waist. My eyes widened when I saw how huge he was.
"Astrid..."
"No." I cut him off. "Let me."
When he wanted to protest, I took him into my mouth.
The salty taste of his precum filled my mouth as I took him deeper till my mouth was full. A low guttural groan left Rhett's lips.
I could swear my thighs clenched. I was dripping wet and hot.
I should've felt ashamed. But I didn't.
Rhett's fingers slipped into my hair as he pumped faster into me. A groan tore from the back of my throat.
"Baby, you take me too well. Is this your first?" he asked in-between a groan.
Instead of replying, I pushed further that I choked.
His fingers tightened on my hair and he yanked me away.
"I asked you a question. Have you gone down on any man before?" he asked, his tone dripped with anger.
Rhett had a look in his eyes I'd never seen before. He suddenly felt pissed.
I gulped down his taste and nodded slowly. "Y-Yes."
That did it.
He moved away and made me stand on my feet.
"Who?"
I blinked. "Rhett-"
"Astrid, don't-"
"Dylan. My ex boyfriend."
"And did you make him feel this good? Did you let him claim that mouth of yours?" his eyes snapped to my lips, and his fingers trailed my jaw.
I shook my head. "N-No."
Then a voice echoed from downstairs.
"Astrid? Rhett? Anyone home?"
Micah.
We froze.
Micah was supposed to be on a trip.
Holy shit.
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7.7
Bella arrived New York City with ambitions, goals and desperate hunger to escape poverty. Raised by her single poor mother along side beloved sister Emily, Bella believed the only way to succeed and save her family from the ruthless hands of poverty was education.
After countless denial and rejection letters, she finally gained admission into one of the most prestigious universities in the country. What she doesn't realize is that stepping foot into that campus would pull her into a dangerous world of obsession, wealth, and power She never knew existed.
Benson Vale is everything Bella despised, Arrogant, untouchable and born into privilege.
As the heir to a billionaire empire, Benson is being forced to get married in order to acquire his inheritance something he dreaded with passion, but Bella crashed into his life and his tightly controlled world starts to unravel.
Lurking in the background is Angella Browns, Benson's childhood friend and the campus self proclaimed queen bee. Obsessed and possessive Angella would do whatever it takes to keep Benson all to herself even if it meant destroying Bella's life to pieces.
When tragedy strikes and secrets begins to unfold, Bella and Bensons relationship are bounded together by a dangerous DEAL - one that could either save or destroy them both.
As danger draws closer Bella must not only fight for justice but also uncover the truth behind her sisters death and choose Whether love was meant to survive in a world filled with Wealth, Power, and betrayal.
It was never meant to be love until fate made them collide.
8.4
Palermo does not forgive.
Neither does it forget.
When Guerrero Valenti, the feared leader of the Vikings, vanished, the city exhaled a dangerous calm-but only for a moment. In the shadows, enemies waited. Rivals sharpened their knives. And one woman bore a secret that could ignite every street in the city.
Lucia Romano carried the child of a man who had disappeared into legend and rumor. A son who had not been claimed, not protected, not named.
The city whispered of him with venom: the bastard of the Vikings.
The boy was fragile, but he was a storm waiting to erupt. And every night, Palermo tested him. Masked men tried to snatch him from his crib. Fire, steel, and blood became his lullabies. Yet he survived. Every threat only sharpened his instincts, every scream hardened his mother's resolve.
But whispers spread faster than steel through the night-rumors of a man returning. A shadow that would claim everything, sparking fear in every heart:
Guerrero Valenti.
The father who abandoned him.
The legend whose name alone commands obedience.
The storm that will rise, carrying vengeance, blood, and fire.
And when he comes,
Every man who dared call the bastard his enemy will fall.
Every street, every roof, every whispered corner will bow to the son of Guerrero Valenti or be washed in blood.
This is the story of survival.
Of fire and steel.
Of a mother and her son.
Of a father's return.
Even the earth is getting ready to absorb blood ... the blood of those who call the legitimate son of the Vikings a "BASTARD", and collect necks........the necks of those fallen by the sword of GUERRERO VALANTI.
And upon his return Heads will bow to the one they called a BASTARD .
8.3
I was the "crazy girl" my family sent to a survivalist commune in Utah to rot. Four years later, I returned to Manhattan with a titanium USB drive and a heart full of ice, ready to blackmail the one man who could burn my family to the ground.
But I underestimated how much they hated me. My fiancé, Preston, was already laundering money through my inheritance and sleeping with my replacement. He didn't even flinch when I showed him the evidence of his crimes.
Instead, he grabbed me by the shoulders, smashed my phone, and shoved me out of his moving Lincoln into a midnight storm. I hit the wet pavement hard, my knees scraping against the asphalt as I watched him drive away, laughing about how I was a "dirt-poor exile" that nobody wanted.
Within minutes, my credit cards were flagged as stolen and my father’s lawyers were drafting a statement calling me mentally unstable. I was left shivering in a puddle of oily sludge, wearing a ruined Chanel suit, with no money, no home, and no one to hear me scream.
I couldn't understand how they could be so cruel. I was their flesh and blood, yet they treated me like a broken toy to be discarded in the trash. I was a "distressed asset" in a city that only valued gold.
That’s when a black armored SUV pulled to the curb. King Wagner—the ruthless shark of Wall Street and Preston’s own uncle—looked at my muddy face with cold, calculating eyes. He didn't offer me pity; he offered me a leash.
"You belong to me now," he whispered, pulling me into the dry warmth of his car. By the next morning, he had announced our engagement to the world, turning me into the very weapon that would slit my family's throat.
7.4
In a city where data is power and truth is a weapon, some secrets are worth killing for.
Mara Quinn is a ghost in the system, an underground journalist known only as Cipher, feared by corporations and hunted by those with everything to lose. When she breaches a classified network inside Axiom Industries, she uncovers something no one was meant to see: ORACLE, a predictive AI capable of shaping human behavior on a global scale.
She expects retaliation. She doesn't expect Kael Draven.
Cold, brilliant, and untouchable, Kael is the architect behind Axiom's empire, and a man who doesn't make threats he can't execute. Instead of silencing Mara, he offers her a choice: work under his watch, or disappear from existence entirely. Trapped inside his glass fortress known as The Spire, Mara is pulled deeper into a world of surveillance, manipulation, and power plays that stretch far beyond anything she imagined.
But ORACLE isn't just a tool, it's already been used. Governments have fallen. Empires have shifted. And someone else is pulling the strings.
As a rival syndicate closes in and a hidden war erupts across the city, Mara and Kael are forced into an uneasy alliance, one built on intellect, suspicion, and a dangerous, undeniable pull neither of them can ignore.
Because in a world where every move is predicted...
the only thing more dangerous than control is feeling.
And the system is already watching.
7.3
Seven years ago, my fiancé, Don Dante Moretti, sent me to prison to take the fall for my adopted sister, Chiara. He called it a gift-a way to protect me from a worse fate.
Today, he picked me up from prison only to abandon me at my family's estate. His reason? Chiara was having another one of her "episodes."
My parents then informed me I'd be staying in the third-floor storage room, so as not to disturb the fragile girl who stole my life.
They celebrated her "recovery" with a lavish dinner party, while I was treated like a ghost. When I refused to join, my mother hissed that I was ungrateful, and my father called me jealous.
They assumed I couldn't understand their venomous whispers. But prison was my university. I learned Spanish. I understood every word.
It was then I realized I wasn't just a sacrifice; I was disposable. The love I once felt for all of them had turned to ash.
That night, in the dusty storage room, I logged onto an encrypted channel I'd set up years ago. A single message was waiting: "The offer stands. Do you accept?" My hands, scarred and steady, typed back, "I accept."
8.7
At eighteen years old, Estelle is kicked out of the only place she knew as home. With nowhere left to go, she goes toward Club Paradise, a place that offers the basic amenities she lacks: food, clothes, shelter, and a well-paying job.
***
The room was thick with smoke and muted chatter, but the moment Antonio D'Amico's eyes landed on her, the world narrowed to just her.
Estelle froze, heart hammering, as if some unseen force had pulled her into his gaze. He didn't move at first, simply studied her with a cold, calculating intensity that sent a shiver straight down her spine.
One night with him shifts the course of her life forever. Something in him fractures; obsession blooms, dangerous, consuming and he decides to take her away, forever.
***
What will happen to Estelle? Will her fortune finally turn around, or is she about to experience hell... and an unexpected, forbidden bond growing inside the darkness?