My Brother's Best Friend's Secret Baby (His Secret Baby Book 8)

by Jamie Knight

  Chapter Five

  Aden

  Despite Camilla’s clumsily erotic interruption, I still managed to get to work on time. After my shower, I got dressed in what was clean outfit—looking very much like I did the day before in a slightly different black shirt and jeans—and hustled down to the ground floor. Sliding the heavy metal disc into the aged CD player before setting off int morning traffic, I couldn’t actually hear Wicks brother among the heavily overlaid vocals. What I could hear sounded really good overall. The new guitarist seemed to ease into the fold quite well.

  Head-banging my way all the way down the freeway, I had almost forgotten about the office drama going on with Cooper and Camilla. I really liked Camilla and would have been with her if I could, but whenever I thought about it, I remembered the insanity that my best friend brought to the table. That would just give me a stress headache. There were times I was happy to have been from a fairly regular family.

  A graphic display of the siblings’ dramatic dynamic happened two hours after I got to my desk. Camilla came storming out of the breakroom in the sort of rage only Cooper was able to cause. She was so angry, in fact, she ran right into me oblivious to anything other than getting away from her life-long antagonist.

  I took hold of her to keep her from falling over. Our bodies pressed together in an admittedly pleasant way. I could feel Camilla’s warmth through her clothes, such as they were, and her full breasts pressed into my chest. I held onto her a moment longer than was strictly needed to keep her upright.

  Our eyes met, and Camilla was definitely giving me a ‘fuck me’ look. Not that I was much better, undressing her with my eyes. I was unable to resist wondering what she looked like naked at that point.

  Before I could meditate on the question any further, Cooper came out of the breakroom as well with all the fires of Hades burning in his eyes. I released his little sister quickly and took a step back. It was a muscle reflex based on years of experience. The truth was, my feelings for his sister would heart my friend, and I didn’t want it to come to that.

  Camilla tried to step closer to me, but I stepped back again to keep my distance. From the way that Cooper glanced over at Carlos, I knew it was him my friend was mad at rather than me. I honestly couldn’t imagine what the new guy would have done to evoke such wrath but also knew that it wouldn’t have had to be much. I had once seen Cooper try to break a guy’s nose for spilling beer on him.

  He was even worse when it came to Camilla. I would have thought that the first couple of broken noses might be an indication that he was taking the big brother shtick a bit too far, but he remained intractable. I could see how that would be frustrating for Camilla, who was pushing thirty.

  “I’m not sure what happened, but she is an adult, dude,” I said, keeping my hands in my pockets.

  Cooper looked at me like he couldn’t quite believe that I spoke and that I spoke against him. I really didn’t tend to say much at all unless provoked. For me to speak up like that was surely a rarity.

  He raised his eyebrows as he held my gaze. “Does that mean you won’t look after her like you promised?”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Camilla demanded, stomping her feet until she was between us.

  “You have two brothers looking out for you,” Coop said, putting his arm around my shoulder.

  “Did you agree to this?” Camilla asked, looking hurt.

  “Not the brother part,” I said, looking over at Cooper.

  Camilla looked like she might slap me. I wouldn’t blame her, really. It was a pretty shit thing for Cooper to do, and I never should have agreed to it. Instead, she just stormed off, shoving past me on the way, mostly because I let her.

  “I don’t know why I waste my time with either of you!”

  “She’ll get over it. It really is for her own good,” Cooper said, patting me on the shoulder. “Thanks for having my back, man.”

  We were released for lunch as per the custom. Camilla still hadn’t come back, so we had to fend for ourselves, the office temporarily ceasing operations, which did not seem to make Ryan very happy. Not that I gave much of a damn. It was his fault we were in this situation in the first place.

  On the way back with my ritual cheesesteak, I came across the tempting scent of a bakery. I suddenly remembered that Camilla liked caramel eclairs. I wasn’t nearly foolish enough to think it would make up for everything. Camilla had always had deep emotions, a Jones family trait, or so it would seem, and she had been rightfully angry by what Cooper had tried to do. I had agreed to watch out for Camilla, but that was because I loved her. I had never said anything about being her other brother.

  I had put the pastry bag on the reception desk, without a word, hoping she would take it with the intended spirit. While I maintained my characteristic silence, our eyes did meet, just for a moment, and I could still see the longing there. She was pissed but still wanted me. I couldn’t say that I didn’t feel the same way. I looked away before my eyes could betray me.

  Camilla’s desire seemed to trump her anger and, after giving me the silent treatment, she came into my cubicle at the end of the day. I was surprised but didn’t let on. I had gotten very good at suppressing my emotions.

  “You’re making dinner,” she said.

  Of course, bat-ears Cooper heard that and came rushing into the cubicle to protect his little sister from such horrid scandal.

  “What the fuck does that mean?” Cooper demanded, in his best attempt at a warning voice that always made me want to laugh.

  Camilla doesn’t answer, apparently still ignoring him. She walked away without even making eye contact.

  “We’ve decided to share meals to make things easier.”

  “Oh, okay. That’s actually a good idea,” Cooper said, turning back into his usual self. A transformation that put me in mind of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

  It was then that I realized how absurd it was to worry about his approval for something so innocent and pure. My best friend had really gotten paranoid, and it wasn’t funny anymore. It was getting to be a bit scary and very annoying. Though, I wasn’t sure how to change the dynamics of our relationship at that point.

  On the way home, I kept thinking, despite the absurdity, I couldn’t deny my attraction to Camilla. She had grown up into a beautiful young woman and made no secret about her interest in me. It had become clear that if Cooper hadn’t been in the picture, we probably would have fucked already. While there was little that could have been done about the lost years while I was in the military, there was no reason for us to keep apart from each other now that I was back in civilian life.

  I couldn’t keep her out of my mind. Particularly our accidental embrace. She had felt perfect. Soft and warm. Her tits pressing lightly against me. I could hardly believe how big they had gotten. She had always been a pretty scrawny kid and something of a tomboy until she hit her teens.

  Unable to take it anymore, I went into the bedroom and lay down on the bed, unzipping my jeans as I went. I actually let out a sigh of relief as I liberated my cock, which was already quite hard.

  Going easy at first, still pretty sensitive, I started to stroke, thinking about Camilla naked. Not long after that, I was imagining touching her. Nothing too heavy. Just light caresses down her bare back and gentle kisses on her supple neck. I imagined sliding my arms around her hips and holding her as I kissed her neck from behind, soon sliding them up to her beautiful tits.

  When she was properly aroused, I imaged laying Camilla out on the bed and, working my way up from her feet, up her legs and over her thighs, licking her pussy, long and light. Lapping at her sensuous pink pussy lips, making her moan long and deep. Undeterred, I kept going, marginally adding pressure, licking Camilla until she came.

  I gave her a moment to recover, lightly stroking her belly to help calm her. When she was ready, I carefully got on top of her, Camilla opening her legs in welcome. I imagined easing the bulk of my cock into her tight little pussy.

&nbs
p; Stroking my cock even faster, I imaged fucking Camilla at a steady, moderate rhythm, pumping her beautiful little pussy until she came all over me. I wasn’t far behind. Both in my head and in real life.

  There was no way I could deny this anymore.

  Chapter Six

  Camilla

  I barely got back to the apartment building before Aden. I did my best to be patient, giving him time to get settled after I heard his car pull up, identifiable by Dante Street Massacre blasting from the sound system, and his door opening and closing.

  Holding on as long as I could, I went over and knocked on his door, after taking a breath. A breath which caught again as soon as I saw Aden, standing before me wearing only jeans. He had his T-shirt in his hand. Strong, rippling abs and chiseled pecs were all I could see. The sight kept me from even being able to say hello.

  “You just caught me changing, come in.”

  I admired the view as I walked inside and sat at the kitchen table as my crush went to the bedroom, returning a few minutes later, unfortunately fully dressed in sweats.

  “What’s for dinner?” I asked, trying to get my heart rate down.

  I honestly wasn’t expecting much. My primary male role model growing up was Cooper, who was so culinarily unskilled he probably couldn’t have burned water.

  “Sweet and sour chicken with prawn fried rice, unless you’re allergic, of course,” Aden said.

  “No, not at all. Are you going to order from the local place?”

  “Oh, no, I’m going to cook it. I just got a new wok I want to try out.”

  I watched closely as he made the dish. Astonished by his graceful, meticulous movements. It was almost erotic watching Aden cook. I imagined what it would be like for those hands to touch me with the same kind of exquisite skill.

  I was buzzing with desire by the time he finished and served the food up on four dishes — one for the chicken and one for the rice. One for him and one for me. I deliberately brushed Aden’s hand with mine as he set down my plate. If he noticed, he didn’t let on.

  The plates were followed by two cups of a thick, bluish-white liquid I had never seen before.

  “What is this?”

  “A sort of yogurt drink. Pretty big in Turkey. It’s good, try it.”

  I tried it having no idea what to expect. It turned out to be one of the tastiest things I had ever drunk and finished off the glass in no time.

  “Sorry,” I said, wiping away my thin white mustache with the back of my had.

  “It’s fine. I did the same thing the first time I tried it.”

  “More?”

  “Sorry, no. It’s hard to make, so I only made the two.”

  “Oh.”

  “Here, have mine,” he said, putting his own glass over on my side of the table.

  “Are you sure?” I asked.

  “Of course, it’s not spicy at all.”

  “Thanks,” I said, being a lot more careful with my second chance, feeling pretty humbled.

  It was the most I’d eaten in a while, at least all at once. I liked to eat several meals over the course of the day, interspersed with exercise, but the food Aden made was so good I couldn’t help myself. It was the yogurt-like drink all over again.

  “Do you like it?” Aden asked out of nowhere.

  All I could do was nod emphatically, my mouth already quite full of lovely food at that point.

  “Mouth full?” he asked with a slight grin.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “Good. I was hoping to get your mouth full,” he said casually.

  I shivered at the possible double meaning. “Me too,” I said, honestly.

  “Wait until you taste dessert,” my crush said with a roguish wink.

  My pussy nearly melted. He could have been making small talk to prologue the moment, but there was a good chance that Aden also wanted what I did. Not to knock the lovely food.

  It really did impress me what a renaissance man Aden was. A brilliant artist and culinary genius who clearly had a lot going on in his head. That would go a long way in explaining why he was usually so quiet. He was generally thinking.

  I wondered what other talents Aden was hiding. Was he also an architect designing buildings in town? Was he a world-class concert pianist doing a few performances a year in concert halls, decked out in a tie and tuxedo? While it seemed the least likely, this last notion got me even more excited. Aden dressed like James Bond, caressing the keys of a sleek, black grand piano the way I longed for him to touch me.

  “Do you like music?” I asked, my voice quivering slightly.

  “Oh, sure, my record collection is huge. Well, it was. Most of it is on MP3 now. I still have a few CDs, mostly autographed collector’s editions and even a handful of vinyl. Mostly from the time when they were the main form of recording.”

  “You have original pressings?” I asked, nearly choking on a prawn.

  “Only a few. Mostly early ‘90s Black Metal. Mayhem, Dark Funeral, that kind of thing. I’m a bit of a purist, I must confess. It just doesn’t sound right in digital transfer. Removes some of the spirit.”

  I was oddly touched. Aden’s meticulous attention to detail really did extend to every aspect of his life. Even the music he liked to listen to. I’d never been much of a Metal girl, but that could partly be because Cooper was way into it as a teen, and I had gotten overexposed. Though I had never heard of the bands Aden mentioned, I was starting to get curious.

  “Do you play?” I asked as Aden did the dishes.

  “Video-games?”

  “Music.”

  “Oh, yeah, I mean, I dabble on bass.”

  I couldn’t tell if he was being falsely modest or genuinely humble. Though the latter seemed more likely. He clearly had talents galore, but I had never heard him boast about them. Given his track record, ‘I dabble’ could very well mean that he used to tour with a band.

  “Will you play me something?”

  “Sure,” Aden said, turning off the tap and placing the last plate into the dish rack.

  I followed him to the far corner of the living room, where he seemed to conjure a solid-body Rickenbacker bass and an amp from behind one of the many bookshelves.

  “You hide it?” I blurted.

  “Yeah, otherwise, I have to put up with the invariable surprise when people see it. I don’t cook for people often either.”

  I couldn’t help but feel honored. I didn’t know if he saw something in me or was just making an exception, but knowing it wasn’t something my crush didn’t do for just anyone made me feel special.

  The amp hummed softly as Aden flicked it on and plugged in the bass. I had never really thought much about the bass. Mostly because of the two-chord stylings of most of the bands I knew. Aden set me straight in a hurry, actually playing chords and riffs, making something that sounded like a much deeper guitar. A couple of lines of which put me in mind of Motorhead or even Joy Division. Peter Hook was widely regarded as redefining how the bass was played in a rock context, making it the main melodic instrument. Several Joy Division songs didn’t really have much in the way of guitar, if at all. Guitarist Bernard Sumner exclusively played synthesizer on “Love Will Tear Us Apart.”

  Just as my heart and pussy were beginning to melt, unsure I could be any more attracted to Aden than I was right then, he clicked off the amp, gently replacing the bass to its stand and swooped me up into his arms.

  Overjoyed, I thought for a second that he would carry me to the bedroom, but, apparently, he couldn’t wait either, laying me out on the neatly cleaned table. It felt hard under me, but I soon got used to it.

  Taking me gently the ankles, Aden pushed my legs back and apart, my skirt riding up, revealing the fact that I wasn’t wearing panties, leaving my tight little pussy exposed.

  “No panties,” Aden observed, running his thumb gently along my lower lips.

  “Yeah,” I confirmed breathlessly.

  “Naughty girl.”

  “Yes.”

&n
bsp; Before I really knew what was happening, he had me over on my stomach and landed a short, sharp spank on my bare ass. There was a harsh sting he alleviated by gently caressing the affected spot after. The rough, then sweet behavior made me even wetter. I suddenly found that I liked being punished by my brother’s best friend.

  Aden did this again, making me yelp and then moan, with meticulous attention, blurring the lines between pleasure and pain.

  After a few more spanks, he kept massaging one of my reddened cheeks, using his tongue on the other. The wet roughness felt even better on my tender flesh. I let out a long, soft sigh, struggling to remember the last time I had felt so good.

  Switching over to the other cheek while massaging the previously licked one, Aden moved ever so slightly inward. Progress which continued until he was on his knees, his face buried between my thighs, both hands on my hips pulling me back even harder against his tongue.

  I grabbed onto the opposite edge of the table to stable myself as Aden buried his face into my pussy. The day I had been waiting for over the last ten or so years was finally coming to pass. Even before I really knew what sex was, I would touch myself, imagining Aden making me feel good.

  He licked me to a literally screaming orgasm, tremors rippling through me from my shoulders on down, my knees buckling slightly as all my locked muscles relaxed at once as I hit the crescendo. I collapsed against the cool hardwood of the table, Aden the only thing keeping me upright.

  With gentle hands, Aden stripped me naked, exposing my soft flesh to the cool air, my nipples going instantly hard. Something that apparently got Aden’s attention, at least going by the way he started fondling me. He sucked gently on each of my nipples, alternating between the two making sure to give each equal attention.

  Taking me around the waist, he lifted me back onto the table, laying me back down on my back. He didn’t have to spread my legs that time, as I was more than happy to do it for him.

  Unzipping his jeans, Aden unleashed his thick dick, which was even longer than I remembered. Using one hand to spread my pussy lips, he eased his cock up against the opening of my pussy.