My Best Friend's Brother's Secret Baby (His Secret Baby Book 7)

Home > Other > My Best Friend's Brother's Secret Baby (His Secret Baby Book 7) > Page 4
My Best Friend's Brother's Secret Baby (His Secret Baby Book 7) Page 4

by Jamie Knight


  "I love you, bro, but you have a lot of anger issues and you really aren't the best influence. Especially on an inexperienced teenaged girl," Kristen said.

  "Like you?" I asked, more pointedly than I meant.

  "I'm different," she said, not seeming to take offence.

  "How?"

  "I know you, bro. I know when it’s really you talking, or the shit in your head."

  "Oh," I said, not having thought about that either.

  "Besides, who says I'm inexperienced?"

  "What?" I asked, looked at her so fast I nearly got whiplash.

  "I'm kidding, I'm kidding; still Snow White over here. The Disney version, not those smutty Brothers Grimm,” she laughed.

  "Good! Because if any one ever did that to you, I'd break his back in five places!"

  Kristen just looked at me, letting me think about the full impact of what I had just said about her and her "purity."

  "Er, I mean-"

  "Pot, meet kettle. Kettle, meet pot," Kristen said with a smirk.

  I felt a sudden and abiding empathy for the guys who had tried to start fights with me after I had been with their little sisters. Perspective could be a real kick in the head.

  I went off to college the next month, Kristen's words of premature wisdom still ringing in my ears. It was the Spring session, so the clothing on the freshman females tended to be somewhat sparse. And the girls on campus all threw themselves at me just as the girls in high school had.

  I just wasn’t interested, though. I kept my head down and tried to focus on school. I was majoring in business and would have a lot of work to do if I wanted to advance.

  Grandpa had made clear his intention that I get at least an MBA. That was probably why he was paying my tuition. I will still too young to get at the trust fund that had been set up.

  My family was rich, but I wasn't; all the money I had would be coming from them. I could be cut off at any time until I was age 21. They had set it up that way, 21 being the legal age of adulthood as people viewed it in my grandpa's day and he didn't see why they should have lowered it like they did.

  That was one of the advantages of being in the position that he had gotten himself to. He had the power (and money) to inflict his will and morals on everyone else. One would never have known that he had grown up in a shack in the West Virginia hills. New money through and through.

  I had big oxfords to fill and was determined not to let the family down. This was actually how grandpa had framed it. Like I would be some kind of traitor or disappointment or failure if I didn't do exactly what he did and what he wanted me to do.

  It was probably what had driven my dad to fight with him, and what had driven me to rebel against both of them in high school. In college, I was trying to right the wrongs, but I was always treated with shame and anger.

  There were moments, few and shameful but still there, that I was relieved that he was dead. Not happy but relieved to be able to get out from under his shadow and live my own life.

  I got the feeling that dad sometimes felt the same way. He would have gotten it even worse than I did, having to live with grandpa growing up. I didn't know if Kristen ever felt like we did. Grandad never really paid her much mind.

  I realized later that it was because she was a girl and, to his mind, of no real importance when it came to his legacy. He had his son and his grandson and that was all that mattered. He was sexist and played favorites like that.

  If he was still alive, I probably would have punched him for some of the things I was figuring out now that he was gone. Of course, that would have just made him proud. I would have been just like him then. A domineering thug.

  Still thoroughly under his thrall while in college, though, I focused hard on the course work, barely ever leaving my dorm room, except to eat. Even then, I brought my books with me to the cafeteria.

  It was the opposite of how it was in high school. My grades had been so bad grandpa had to call in a favor to get me into the school he had wanted me to go to. Something else he was able to hold over me.

  I lacked complete interest in women, not only because I was trying my best to study hard but also because I missed Kora. I told myself to get over her and that it couldn't be that way forever and eventually, I did start try to start dating again.

  At first, they approached me, usually while I was in the cafeteria. Unlike my younger, wilder days, I did my best to stick to talking to one girl at a time, seeing if it would work out before I considered dating her.

  It never did work out though and by the end of my first semester I had come to the realization that it wasn’t even worth trying to date. I simply had no interest and I told myself that maybe if I gave it a break, I would eventually get over Kora and be able to take a girl out.

  It was during a lull in this chain of failed attempts to get myself psyched up to date, during a college break, that I messed up what I long thought had been my last chance with Kora. I had only been home a few days when Kristen, ever the socialite, decided to have a pool party to break in the new Olympic sized swimming pool dad had recently had put in the backyard, grandpa bribing the zoning inspector to make sure there were no land use issues.

  There were over a dozen hot, bikini clad girls splashing around below my bedroom window, but I still had no interest in them. I had become one of the bookworms I had once made fun of, taking the name of “study break” from college much more literally than most.

  I was trying to block out the fighting between my dad and my grandpa. The huge rooms of the mansion had great acoustics. Grandpa called my dad, his own damn son, soft and weak. I knew even then that he was wrong. Not only was my dad neither of those things, but it also wasn't right to say it as though it were a bad thing. As if sensitivity and openness to emotion were handicaps in a man.

  I glanced up from my micro-economics text and stole a look out the window. It really was a glorious sight, all those lovely young bodies glistening in the sun. Kristen was among them of course but I ignored that. As fates would have it, this was the exact moment when Kora arrived.

  I watched as she awkwardly took off her street clothes, revealing a bikini underneath. She had lost a bit of weight since I had been in high school but was still curvy in all the right places. Her new bikini was showing off her body in a way that was almost scandalous.

  I saw suddenly, selfishly, happily, that I was the only male their age within view of the party goers, the party being a girls-only affair, either by accident or design. I had never noticed Kristen hanging out with very many boys. Boys hanging off her, yes, but she only really seemed to have attention for her current boyfriend of the hour. All of her friends seemed to be girls. Kora was always chief among them, of course.

  I watched as Kora and Kristen hugged. It looked a bit strained but friendly enough. I realized later they were already drifting apart.

  From what I was told by Kristen, their parting had been mostly done on Kora's end, though she didn't know exactly why. I had a pretty good idea but didn't dare tell her. I had already hurt her enough.

  I got back to work, and Kora joined in with the party, occasionally glancing up at my window at the same moment I was glancing down at her, trying to get another look at her beautiful body, my lust overcoming my common sense.

  I forced myself to focus on my reading, which was about the intricate details of the Keynesian system of trade, wondering why we hadn't gone with that. I was trying to put Kora well out of my mind when a gentle knock came at my door.

  Figuring it was either Kristen or my mom, I got up to open it, never expecting what I found on the other side.

  "Hi," Kora said, shyly.

  "Hi," I said, unable to keep my eyes from her luscious young tits, barely contained by her bikini top.

  "Get lost on your way back from the kitchen?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood.

  "No but I can see how that could happen, considering the kitchen and the living room are in different zip codes."

  "Not quite
, but there are two different phone numbers for the house and the servants’ quarters," I said, this actually being true.

  "Servants’ quarters," Kora said, stifling a laugh.

  "What?" I asked.

  "Sorry, that's just not a word you hear a lot anymore, except maybe on consume dramas."

  "Fair point," I conceded, "though to be fair, that is just the traditional term at this point. Dad calls it employee lodging."

  "C-can I come in?"

  "Why?" I asked, the wound in my heart starting to burn a bit.

  "I-I want to show your something."

  "I guess," I said, stepping back and opening the door for her.

  She came in quickly, as though afraid of getting caught, and I closed the door behind her, just in case. I think my parents knew what I had been doing. The sounds would have been hard to ignore but ignore it they did.

  Though I wasn't sure what would happen if I was actually found with a girl in my room. I had never put it to the test, formerly preferring to pursue my conquests elsewhere.

  "What do you-"

  I stopped, more than a little stunned as Kora took off her bikini bra, revealing her beautiful tits, her nipples still hard from the cold water.

  "I-"

  Before I could speak, she took down her bikini bottoms.

  Her pussy was even nicer than I had imagined. Tight, pink, neatly shaved. Pristine. Perfect.

  She came over and stood in front of me. Taking my hand, she put it on her pussy. I just left it there for a moment, cupping her tender lips, unable to think, let alone move.

  Kora did my thinking for me, holding me gently by the wrist and rubbing her pussy against my opening hand. Eventually I realized it was really happening and started moving it myself, taking her by the hips as I did so.

  When she was ready, I slipped a finger inside her like I had tried to do on the mountain, this time getting it all the way in. I fingered her to orgasm, Kora coming against me, holing on to the sleeves of my shirt, her face pressed against my chest.

  Her pussy felt better than any I had experienced before and only got tighter as she came. I loved how wet and ready she was for me.

  She lifted my fingers to her mouth and cleaned them off with her tongue, looking me in the eyes as she did so.

  I wanted to stop. To move away.

  It was wrong, all wrong. S

  he had said no before and I respected that.

  Why as she acting this way now when she wasn't into me?

  Kristen had said so.

  Instead of an answer, I got only more confusion as Kora put her hand on the bulge that was in my pants, at something of an alarming rate. I really couldn't help it. Even thinking of Kora made me hard, and here she was naked and dripping onto my hand; of course I was super hard, super fast.

  There was something about her that made me want her and there was nothing the logical part of my brain could do about it. It wasn't even really a fight between my lust and my logic so much as a one-punch knockout. It was a desire beyond logical reason. In conflict with it, in fact.

  Kora sank to her knees in front of me, slowly undoing my zipper as she went. I wanted to stop her but couldn't really convince myself to move.

  She reached in and took a hold of my cock, carefully pulling it out, trying to avoid the zipper as she did so. I appreciated her thoughtfulness, despite the context.

  Taking a deep breath, Kora opened her mouth and started slowly moving forward, taking in my cock inch by inch. When it was halfway in, she closed her lips around the throbbing shaft and started to suck, slowly at first and then with more gusto, putting her hands on my hips for added leverage. I could feel myself dangerously close to cumming.

  I suddenly realized that if I came for her here, like this, that I would never, ever be able to get over her and get on with my life without her. Since she wasn’t into me, I couldn’t let that happen.

  "Stop," I said firmly.

  Kora didn't seem to hear me. She was too focused on what she was doing and likely trying not to brunch her teeth up against me.

  I took her by the hair and pulled her away. She reached up with a yelp of pain. I let go and she fell to the floor.

  I felt bad about hurting her but not bad enough to relent. I was convinced that she was just playing with me. Getting me all worked up just to say no again. Teasing me.

  My ego just couldn't take that again. Not to mention that I had already made things bad enough between her and Kristen and I wasn’t about to go asking Kristen more questions about Kora. It was time to leave the past in the past and move on with my future. I think part of me was hoping that saying no to her would help me be able to do that.

  I picked up her bikini and put it on her, not wanting her to run out the room naked. I wasn't sure that she would, but there was no telling what might have happened, as this was a very strange circumstance indeed. She didn't resist as I stood her up and pulled up her bikini bottoms.

  "What-" she tried to say, as she put the bra on over her breasts.

  "Be quiet," I said, not wanting to hear it, so sure that I was right.

  "W-was it bad?" she asked, nearing tears.

  "I said be quiet!" I ordered, then walked away from her so that I could no longer be tempted.

  She looked like she was about to cry. None of this made any sense. I was sick of her fucking with my head like this.

  When she was dressed, I took her by the arm, opening the door with my other hand and making sure she made her way out of the room before I closed it, so that I could be done with her for good. Slamming the door so hard the frame shook, I went back over to the desk, sat down and did what my grandpa had told me never to do. What he had once beat me with his belt for doing, saying it was for my own good, saying that he was going to make a man out of me once and for all. I fucking cried.

  Now, I zipped up and went over to the mini bar, my libido well and truly destroyed. I couldn't believe what an asshole I had been when I was younger and didn't blame Kora for being a bit prickly. It was the least that I deserved.

  In retrospect, I was honestly a bit surprised that Kristen was still speaking to me. She had every reason to want to tell me to fuck off for hurting her friend’s feelings, but she never did. It was just another testament to her loving and forgiving nature.

  I poured a double scotch and downed it in one go. Another talent I had picked up from grandpa, though his drink of choice was rum. By the bottle.

  Old habits die hard, I guess. So hard that they passed themselves down through the family tree.

  I wondered how much like him I really was. How many broken hearts and popped cherries he had left in his wake.

  It was clearer now than it had ever been before how little my dad was like him. Which partly explained why he was so dead set in me following in his exactly footsteps. I poured another double and raised it toward the ceiling.

  "Fuck you, grandpa," I swore, and downed it quickly, barely feeling it as the scotch hit the back of my throat.

  I refused to be the man he wanted me to be. The man I had tried to be for so long, only leading to hurt and ruined relationships.

  I vowed then and there to be better. To be a better brother to Kristen and to try and not be an asshole to Kora now that she was back in my life. To try to get a fresh start, at least ignoring if not forgetting the mistakes of the past and see where it went from there.

  What possibly go wrong?

  Chapter Eight

  Kora

  My apartment was dark when I got home. I had to fumble for the light switch, finally finding it without much too much trouble or damage.

  My mind was still humming, going over and over the texts we had sent. It really was crazy, how life could work out. You think you are going one way and then everything goes another way all together.

  I would have been fine never seeing Logan again. At least, that’s what I always told myself when I was trying to get over him.

  I may have wished that I could, but I had thought it was onl
y possible in fantasy. At least in fantasy he was always nice to me. Warm and loving, giving me the sex I secretly wanted but never dared ask for from him.

  What happened on the mountain was the closest I had ever really gotten to sex.

  The closest I had ever gotten to a cock.

  The only time a guy had licked me.

  And Logan really seemed to honestly enjoy it. It wasn’t a chore or a prelude for something he wanted. He was just trying to give me pleasure. Likely to get me relaxed so that he could fuck me more easily, but the effect was still the same.

  He seemed so kind then. He even stopped when I said to stop. I knew he didn’t want to. Part of me didn’t want to either but the guilt had just gotten to be too much. I really didn’t want to hurt Kristen and I knew she was against my relationship with Logan to start with.

  I still didn’t really understand why he did what he had done during his college break. I hadn’t really wanted to go to the party. I never did really well with crowds. Kristen and Logan were the only people I really knew there, and that bikini honestly made me feel self-conscious. I knew I looked great in it and Logan would probably get hard instantly when he saw me, but I had never been really comfortable showing off a lot of my body.

  Modestly and thrift were the two main virtues taught in my household growing up. I didn’t even wear a skirt that went above my knees until I was 18 and my parents couldn’t stop me. It was all jeans and long sleeves for all of my teen years. Not a whole lot of fun in the summer.

  Yet there I was, showing everyone around almost everything I had. Feeling them judging me. Though really, in the end there was only one person whose opinion mattered to me. I wanted Logan to want me. I wanted Logan to fuck me.

  I had realized I had made a mistake before and was trying to correct it. To apologize, in a twisted sort of way. So, I had one too many wine coolers for liquid courage and then tried to show him what I thought he wanted to see. Tried to give him what I thought he had wanted to take.

  And he rejected me. Like I was nothing. Just another of his little sluts.

 

‹ Prev