Wrong Bed, Right Brother (Accidental Love)

by Rebecca Brooks

  But here she was, doing it all over again with someone who had a clear end date. Someone she wasn’t sure even liked her. Someone still pining over a breakup. Someone she’d known for years but never once thought of this way.

  Yet as soon as he pushed himself inside her, there was no pretending she’d have done this, right now, with anyone else. No pretending there was anyone else she wanted.

  Not with her legs spread, her thighs clenched around him, her whimpers coming faster and stronger the deeper he thrust. She felt her body opening, the sweet, sharp pleasure as he filled her. Saw the look in his eyes, felt the tightening of his shoulders, heard the hitch of his breath. Even when she wanted to close her eyes, she didn’t. It felt like it would be a form of turning away. Like it would make him think she was imagining someone else above her right now. Someone who looked like him but wasn’t.

  And that wasn’t what she wanted him to think. It wasn’t what she wanted to imagine.

  She didn’t want to imagine anything. This wasn’t a fantasy, and it wasn’t make-believe. Every inch of him was real, and she wanted to feel it.

  Noah’s thrusts came hard and fast, everything building between them. He had to pull back before the table started banging so loudly, she was afraid it might break.

  But even when his movements were slower, the pressure was so delicious, she found her hips moving with him, her hands reaching for his taut, firm ass to pull him nearer. He let out a groan. The way he immediately tried to bite it back and regain control only made her want to draw it out of him again, to make him give up that perfect, disciplined exterior and do every wrong thing he wanted.

  “Noah,” she panted. “Fuck me. Please.” Her whispers were urgent, her hips rising to punctuate her pleading. She said his name again, begging for him to take her, not even aware of what she was saying except that she couldn’t control the rush. The only thing she kept thinking was more. More heat, more sweat, more everything. She swore that every time she said his name, he went that much more out of his mind, until she couldn’t worry anymore about where they were or what they were doing or all the ways it was bound to go wrong.

  She pulled her knees up, holding onto her legs. She’d never been this open before, this exposed. But she wanted him harder, deeper, fuller. His pace quickened, and she threw one leg over his shoulder, split open in all the best ways. He had to use his hand to cover her mouth and stop her from crying out. All she could do was moan into his palm and let his body take over.

  “That’s it,” he urged her, as though it wasn’t just the physical feel of them together that was driving him over the edge but the fact that she obviously couldn’t keep it together with him inside her.

  He brought his other hand to her clit and pressed against her. The sensation was so much, she bit down on his hand as he kept her mouth covered.

  “Come for me,” he said. “Let go and come.” She couldn’t say anything, but her body responded. Inside her mind was panting Noah, Noah over and over as she felt him building. His thrusts deepened, his head went straight back, mouth open in a silent cry as she felt the heat of him coming inside her. As his fingers worked her clit and his cock filled her, she came for the second time, unable to stop the waves from crashing.

  He stayed inside her, still pulsing, but only for a moment before he pulled out. She wanted him to stay on top of her, stay holding her. But that was ridiculous because she was lying on a table and they didn’t have time to linger. She knew that. She knew he had to throw the condom in the trash and tug up his running pants while she slid off the table and tested out her legs.

  It hit her all over again—the conference room, the fact that she was still technically on the clock, the horrible realization that her colleagues were right down the hall.

  Not to mention Luke, still waiting.

  Oh, God. She hadn’t done anything wrong wrong. But it didn’t exactly feel right.

  She reached for her pants and underwear on the floor and pulled them on, trying not to regret how hard she’d come. How much she’d panted. How outrageously she’d let herself go. Twice.

  “I’ll leave first,” Noah said. “Wait a few minutes before you come out.”

  She’d been thinking the same thing. But did he have to say it like that, so matter of fact? Not even a final kiss or touch or a, “Wow, that was amazing.” Nothing to make her feel like that wasn’t just a quickie-way-to-get-off before he went on with the rest of his night.

  Of course, they had to keep this quiet instead of dealing with the fallout if they let anyone know. But how could something that felt so good in the moment feel so off minutes later?

  “Have a good rest of the night,” she said, buttoning her jeans and reaching for her boots. She thought she saw him hesitate, as though unsure whether to move toward her or away.

  But in the end, he didn’t kiss her. He didn’t do anything. He just nodded. Then he moved the chair, peeked his head out the door, and left. His footsteps down the hall echoed in tune with her miserable heart.

  He never would have done that to Kristina. Because Kristina was girlfriend material—of eight years, no less. Amanda obviously wasn’t.

  She sat on the edge of the table and laced her boots, killing time before she eventually left. She tried to tell herself this was no big deal. It was just sex. Hormones. Temporary insanity. Like scratching a bug bite even when you know you shouldn’t. It had been a long time for her—that was the only reason. A woman has needs. And she’d just had hers more than adequately met. There was nothing shameful about it.

  But as she stood and felt the pleasant soreness radiating from the center of her, she knew that was a lie. It wasn’t “just sex.” Pure biology. Animal need.

  It was something else, too.

  Which made it suck all the more that this time, she really, absolutely had to end it.

  Chapter Eleven

  Noah sat at the bar, his knee jogging up and down as though he were running a race. All the training he’d done today, and then—oh, God. The things he’d done in the conference room with Amanda.

  He flushed just thinking about it, but that only made his leg bounce harder, as though he could outpace his actions. His thoughts.

  But that made it sound like a bad thing. And the way he felt right now, his limbs warm and loose, his heart still shuddering, his every sense alive—

  It was hard to think any of that was bad.

  “So, anyway,” Luke was saying. “You can find a new running club when you get out there. Something on the weekends, you know? Way less intense than what you’re doing now. I’m sure stuff like that is all over L.A.”

  Noah nodded, but he was barely paying attention. He kept thinking about the look in Amanda’s eyes as she’d come on his cock. The way she’d said his name, over and over. The way that watching her, hearing her, had turned him inside out. “Noah,” he heard her voice echo in his mind. Not Luke, not anyone else. Him.

  He took a huge swallow of beer, choking as it went down wrong.

  “You okay?” Luke reached over and thudded him on the back. Noah waved him off, sputtering about how he was fine. He drank again, slower this time, trying to make himself focus on whatever Luke had been talking about. Something about running. L.A. Something about why he’d wanted so badly to go west.

  Something about the rest of his life. The reality—not the fantasy he’d just fallen into and now had to crawl his way back out of.

  Because they were leaving in less than six weeks, and he needed to remember that. He needed to focus on what he had to do to get ready. He couldn’t spend every second hearing her voice calling his name before she came. He couldn’t let himself wonder what it might be like to have more.

  It had been so unexpected, so overwhelming, he hadn’t been able to get out of the office fast enough, sputtering some nonsense to Luke about how he’d stopped to stretch in the hall. Pretending that was th
e reason his face was flushed, the sweat still damp on his brow.

  How had he managed to pull away from Amanda so quickly, let alone at all? He hadn’t been trying to be an asshole. But he’d been afraid of what might have happened if he’d stayed. Afraid, too, of what he might have seen on her face. If there was regret, uncertainty…if it turned out she’d only gotten carried away with the wrong twin…

  He didn’t think he’d survive seeing the stars fall out of her eyes as she stopped moaning and landed face to face with reality—with him—again. He couldn’t linger with her, and he couldn’t ask for more. He sure as hell couldn’t pretend he had more to give. If he needed the reminder, it was here in front of him: Luke talking about L.A. Noah was dragging his brother across the country, all because he was the one who’d wanted to leave. That was the plan—the only plan. There was no room for complications.

  Amanda was nothing but a complication. A complication he had a bad feeling was responsible for the vibration he suddenly felt in his pocket.

  “Go easy on the beer, man. You haven’t been yourself at all,” Luke was saying at the same time that Noah tried to pull out his phone without his brother seeing.

  “Just a super hard workout today,” he said as he glanced down. Sure enough, it was from Amanda.

  We need to talk.

  He looked up at Luke, trying to keep his face blank. Talking was never a good sign. It certainly didn’t make it sound as though Amanda was sitting around thinking about how good the sex was and how much she still wanted him.

  “I’m glad you’re feeling better about easing up on running stuff,” Luke said. “You’ll like the office job. You were made for stability, Noah.” He shook his head. “This coaching thing was kind of nuts.”

  Noah tried to catch up to what he’d missed. What was Luke talking about? What did Amanda want, anyway?

  “It’s not like I’m not going to run,” he said.

  “Of course not. Just, you know, more casually. A weekend thing.” Luke shrugged. “You’ll be busy with the new job. New girlfriends.” He winked. “By the way, did you check in with the movers yet?”

  Noah’s phone was resting on his thigh now, and it vibrated again. He couldn’t help it—he looked down as the next message came through.

  I know we’ve said this before, but I mean it this time. We have to stop.

  “They’ve got the deposit,” Noah said through clenched teeth.

  “I’ve heard horror stories about people not getting their stuff.”

  Luke kept talking about moving, their plans, the new apartment. But Noah’s palms were starting to sweat. What was Amanda going on about?

  “Are you even listening?” Luke said, and he blinked.

  “Yeah, of course. I’ll call tomorrow,” he promised.

  “And tell her what?”

  “What?” Noah echoed.

  Luke rolled his eyes. “I was talking about Mom. After the movers bring everything, when should we tell her to come?”

  Shit, he really was losing his mind.

  “I meant I’ll call both the movers and Mom tomorrow,” he said, trying to backtrack. “Whenever she wants, I guess.”

  “No, Noah. Not whenever she wants. She’ll want to come the first day, and then all I’ll hear is how it’s not done yet. Give her a date that’s later, when we’re set up. You won’t get an earful. You never do. But I’ll keep hearing about everything I haven’t done.”

  Luke kept talking, but Noah’s eyes were on his phone.

  It’s not that I didn’t like it, okay? Amanda texted again.

  His pulse kicked up like he’d just amped his speed around the track and his heart was bursting into overdrive. Amanda had liked it?

  Of course, that wasn’t what she was saying. That wasn’t the point of these messages—messages he knew he needed to respond to. But he could read it in her words nonetheless. In the words between the words, the ones she wasn’t saying but still meant.

  “It’s not that I didn’t like it” was definitely Amanda-speak for “It was so good, I saw stars.” His legs suddenly felt even weaker than before.

  Three more messages popped up on his phone, one after the other:

  Even so, I’m trying to be honest that I don’t want things to go in that direction again.

  It’s not a good idea for either of us. We have our own lives and aren’t looking to date, so we need to cool it.

  I know we’re going to still see each other because of Luke, but let’s keep it platonic until you guys move.

  The move. Right. Amanda didn’t even need to get into all the other reasons not to do this—Kristina, Luke, the fact that neither of them were in a position to be clear-headed right now. There was a time limit, so there was no point to any of this. The end was coming closer every day.

  “Hey—what do you keep doing on your phone?”

  Noah looked up abruptly. “Nothing,” he said. “A client.”

  “No one’s canceling on you, are they? If you need me to spot you some cash—”

  “Just some rescheduling,” he blurted, trying to think on his toes. “But it’s no big deal. They’ve already paid for the hours.”

  He never lied to his brother. He was sure Luke didn’t believe him. Not with the look he was giving him over his beer.

  “So, what were you and Amanda doing in the office?” Luke asked, changing the subject so fast, Noah reeled from the whiplash.

  “What do you mean?” He took another huge swallow of beer—this time, managing not to choke.

  Luke shrugged, the kind of easy look his brother was good at getting away with—even if it rarely meant everything was as fine as he made it seem. “I just mean, what were you doing? It’s not a complicated question.”

  “I told you, I went to the bathroom and did some stretching,” Noah said, looking at the taps, the beer list, the pictures on the wall. Anywhere but his brother’s eyes. “I have no idea where she went,” he added for good measure.

  Luke’s eyes narrowed. Noah sensed the look on his face without having to actually see it. Sometimes there were serious downsides to being a twin. Like knowing what his brother was thinking without him saying a word.

  “Why do I feel like if I texted her right now, she’d tell me she went to the bathroom, too?” Luke asked.

  Noah put down his glass. This was it. He should tell the truth and get it over with. Why did it have to be a big deal? They were consenting adults. Luke wasn’t interested in her, anyway. If Luke cared about them fucking in the conference room, Noah had plenty of dirt on his brother that he wasn’t above busting out.

  But the words wouldn’t come. He didn’t want to talk about what they’d done, as though he was bragging about a score. As though it was anyone’s business but his own.

  He didn’t want Luke to rag on him, giving him shit. He didn’t want to have to answer for what demon had possessed him, since, as Luke was fond of pointing out, Noah never did things like this. He’d successfully resisted every effort of his brother’s to get him online so he could “get over Kristina” between someone else’s legs. The thought of Luke seeing Amanda that way made something spark hard and hot inside him.

  And wasn’t Amanda telling him right now that it was over? There was no point bringing up something that didn’t even exist. So he’d better stop thinking about it, full stop.

  “I guess people pee a lot,” he told his brother, wishing the twenty questions would end. “Why don’t you text her and ask? Because it’s definitely not weird to check up on where people are every second of the day.”

  “Okay, okay.” Luke held up his hands, which was when Noah realized he’d probably sounded more annoyed than he had to. The texts from Amanda, the third degree from his brother… All of it was making him impossibly tense.

  “I was just asking,” Luke said. “She hasn’t been herself ever since we got
back from the Hudson Valley. All week at work it’s been…weird.”

  “She’s probably upset about the move. Didn’t you say she freaked when you told her?”

  “I thought she was going to cry. And she was pissed at you for dragging me away.” His mouth turned down. “But then it was like—we hung out twenty-four seven. Like the Hudson Valley, all these plans. She kept talking about how we needed to soak up our time together before I was a plane ride and a billion dollars away.”

  Noah’s jaw tightened. “She said that?”

  “It doesn’t matter, does it? Now she’s all work all the time and practically runs out on me if I suggest getting lunch or doing anything.”

  “She’s busy with Brain Gobblers. She’ll have to take on half your responsibilities until she can train someone new.” Noah regretted the words immediately. Since when was he so concerned with Amanda’s work life? He coughed to cover his mistake. “She’s probably just trying to protect herself. Pulling away before you leave.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Then whatever. Don’t believe me. I don’t even know what you mean.”

  And now we can drop it.

  But Luke was clearly still thinking about Amanda. And his vibrating phone told Noah that Amanda was still thinking about him.

  “She’s just…different,” Luke said. “Like today. She didn’t steal my sweatshirt, even though she always wears it at work.”

  Great. Because Noah was dying to picture the woman he’d just had sex with snuggling up in his brother’s ratty old hoodie.

  “So because it wasn’t cold in your office, you think—” Noah wasn’t sure what else to say. He really didn’t need to be sitting here dissecting Amanda’s every move with Luke. Especially not when Amanda was still blowing up his phone.

  Double-especially because it wasn’t like he could reassure Luke that Amanda still had a crush on him. Or a whatever. Christ, he was getting a headache.

  He risked another glance under the table, afraid of the string of messages he knew he was going to see.