by Mia Pride
Wasting no time, Monica climbed off me and made an “eek” face before she frowned. “Shit. That was awkward. I’m sorry you didn’t get to finish. I tried to keep going for you. I got mine. Twice,” she said with a grin.
“Oh, I finished...” I groaned, rolling over and hopping off the bed, running a hand through my hair.
“What?” Her smile faded into a frown. “But you said you would pull out!”
Throwing my hands in the air, I looked around for my boxer briefs. “You had your hand over my mouth and kept moving! I tried to tell you! What was I supposed to do? Implode?”
“I... I didn’t want Brent to hear you...”
“You could have stopped!” I growled, sliding my boxers on, then slipping on my shirt. Monica found her panties and bent over to pick them up. Despite my anxiety, I couldn’t help but stare at her ass. What had this woman done to me? Why had I ever agreed to this? “He will know. I bet he is looking for me.”
“Naw, he will assume you were off fucking a bridesmaid.”
“I was!” I barked. “This is bullshit.”
Turning on her heels, Monica walked up to me, still wearing nothing but her panties. “I thought it was much better than bullshit. I’m sorry to have wasted your time.”
“Mon... that’s not how I meant it.”
“Just go, Chris. It was good. It was fun. We got it out of our system. It will never happen again.”
“It shouldn’t have happened in the first place,” I hissed, angry at myself for being so easily seduced by this temptress.
“You’re the romantic sort, aren’t you?” Rolling her eyes, Monica picked up her dress and shimmied into it. Walking over, I helped her zip up the back, then she turned and clipped my cufflinks.
Tucking in my shirt, I looked at her and frowned. “I’m sorry. I’m being a dick. Monica, I don’t do this sort of thing.”
“Like hell you don’t.”
“Not with you. Not with my best friend’s sister. I make very calculated decisions, and this one was purely emotional.”
“I won’t apologize for being involved with your first emotional decision, Chris. Welcome to real life. You fucked your best bud’s sister, and you enjoyed it. So did I. It got awkward at the end, but I’m on the pill. Life moves on. See you out there, Romeo.” Slipping on her flats, Monica looked in the mirror, combed her wavy hair with her fingers, and strutted out of her hotel room, leaving me in the dust as I watched the sexiest mistake I had ever made walk away.
Chapter Two
Monica
“STOP TOUCHING ME, BRENT!”
“I’m not touching you...” my pesky brother responded, waving his hands around my face without actually touching me as if we were still ten years old.
“You suck so badly. Hey, Crys... remember that time we put shaving cream on Brent’s hand and tickled his nose with a feather in his sleep?” I said, unable to contain the mischievous grin spreading across my face as I outed my new sister-in-law.
“What? You were in on that, Crys?” Brent turned in his seat at the table, and I laughed when his hideous Christmas sweater started singing while Rudolph’s nose blinked and his antlers flapped.
“That’s the worst sweater in the universe. I’m so going to burn it tonight,” Crystal murmured as she shoved a load of homemade cranberry sauce into my mouth.
“One, don’t change the subject. You made me eat shaving cream. It got in my eyes, too. That shit burned.”
“Watch your mouth, little brother. There is a child at the table,” I snickered.
“Yeah!” Grace and Amber said at the same time, then gave each other a fist bump and laughed.
Turning in his seat, he pointed at me and gave me his best death stare. “I’ll deal with you later. And, I’m only your little brother by three minutes. And, I can still do... this!” Brent licked his finger and shoved it in my ear, making me holler as I lunged for Brent and missed, almost falling out of my damned chair.
Chris chuckled at us from the other side of the table, having joined us for our Christmas feast since his family lived in New York and most flights were delayed due to bad weather. The tension between us could be cut with a knife, and I wondered if my brother or Crystal noticed. It had only been two weeks since our tryst at the wedding, and though we hadn’t talked since, discovering that Brent invited him over for Christmas dinner had been a shock to my system. Still, Brent and I would always fight as only twins could, and Chris was more than used to the shenanigans.
Brent and Crystal continued their banter in true newlywed style, arguing over whose Christmas sweater was the ugliest. Admittedly, they were both awful. Monica’s had a tree covered in ornaments and lights that blinked, while Brent’s looked like a dollar-store version of Rudolph with button-activated clapping antlers. As for myself, I decided to go with red, skin-tight pleather leggings, a sweater with a silly snowman that I knew would make Grace laugh, and a fuzzy headband with antlers attached. We were, after all, a festive family.
Feeling a set of green eyes on me, I turned my head and raised a brow when I caught Chris staring. “Regretting your decision to spend Christmas with us yet?” I asked, doing my best to keep the mood light. I had no idea what he was thinking, but having seen each other naked and, well, so much more, had clearly affected our ability to co-exist casually.
“Not in the least,” he said, flashing his winning smile. “You know I enjoy your family. Grace is a doll.”
Looking at my niece playing with her toy cats with her mom, I smiled. “Yeah. She’s pretty okay.”
“Oh my God!” Amber shrieked. Startled, I looked up and let out a barking laugh when I saw that Brent had gotten his revenge on Crystal by smashing whipped cream in her face.
“You’re ridiculous, Brent,” Crystal sighed, immediately grabbing a napkin to wipe her face clean while I continued to point and laugh. I could only hope that if I ever got married, I could have as much fun with my husband as these two had together.
“What’s so funny, Mon?” Brent turned and flung a wad of whipped cream across the table. It splattered across my nose and mouth, and my stupid brother stood up from the table to do his signature victory dance. “Payback! It feels so good!”
“Daddy, two wrongs don’t make a right...” Grace said with a wag of her finger.
“You’re right, Gracie. But sometimes it’s sort of fun,” Crystal laughed and continued to clean herself up with Brent’s help.
“You are all out of your minds,” Chris said with a chuckle, grabbing a napkin to help wipe off my face.
“That was homemade whipped cream for the pies,” Amber sighed and propped her elbows on the table as she watched the madness unfold.
As Chris leaned in to wipe cream from my face, I smelled his sexy aftershave and admired his muscular arms as he swiped a napkin across my lips with a grin, his dimples flashing. Damn him for being so attractive and smelling so good, and for always being so well dressed. Usually, I would break the tension by smearing the whipped cream on him, too, but I could not in good conscience ruin his suit. Instead, I sat still and allowed him to scan my face with his eyes while I heard Brent and Amber talking about an old college friend.
“Thank you,” I murmured once my mouth was able to open without globs of cream dripping into it. When nobody was looking, Chris swiped some whipped cream off my cheek with his finger and slowly licked it off. My eyes widened before I schooled my features. Was he teasing me? Trying to remind me of our hot night together? It was working. Clearing my throat, I squirmed in my seat and crossed my legs to stave off the arousal this man so easily triggered. He made my flesh burn with need, but what had happened was a one-time deal and would never, could never, happen again. If Brent knew, everything would go to shit, and Chris was eye-fucking me way too openly.
“Stop,” I whispered.
“Stop what? Being a gentleman?” he whispered back in his baritone voice.
“Yes,” I hissed, shifting in my seat as he nodded and went back to his seat as i
f nothing happened.
“We have more to celebrate...” Brent said, looking at Crystal, who instantly turned bright red and gave him a look of uncertainty. I knew what it was... I’d felt it in my bones for a while now.
Brent nodded and smiled, and I leaned across the table with anticipation. “No. Way.”
“What?” Chris asked, looking at us all with a raised brow.
Amber walked in carrying one pumpkin and one apple pie, placing them down on the table. “What’s going on?” She sat down beside Grace and furrowed her brow. “I feel like the mood has shifted since I got up.”
“Brent and Crystal have something to share with us,” I replied, answering Amber’s question.
“Oh?” Amber looked at them suspiciously.
“Crystal is going to have my baby!” Brent jumped up from his chair and fist-pumped the air, doing his stupid dance gain.
“I knew it!” I jumped up with him and pointed in Crystal’s face.
“Wow, man! Congrats!” Chris clapped and stood up, as well.
When Brent and Crystal started speaking to Grace about the baby, I decided it was time for me to bow out and head to the kitchen. I was absolutely elated for the two of them and couldn’t wait for more details, but I could still feel the sticky residue of whipped cream on my face and was desperate to wash it off.
Once in the kitchen, I picked up a dish towel, ran it under the tap, then rang out the water before carefully wiping my face.
“Need help?”
Turning around, I saw Chris standing in the doorway, his long white sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the top button of his collared shirt undone. “I got this, thanks, though.” Turning away, I dabbed my face and tried to ignore his presence.
“Great news about the baby, eh?” He stepped closer, and again I smelled his aftershave. It never got old, and I wanted to ask what it was but decided it was best to pretend I didn’t notice. I drank way too much and lost my senses the night we fooled around. I wouldn’t lie and say I did not want it. But, it had been a mistake, a weakness, and I needed to force myself to act like nothing happened between us. Pretend I didn’t know what he looked like fully undressed. Forget how it felt to have him deep inside me. Shit. My mind kept wandering.
“Yeah, totally great news,” I said and turned to look at him. “I knew it. I have for a while. I just know Crystal too well for her to hide anything from me.”
“Can the same be said of her with you?” he asked, quirking a brow.
I knew what he was asking—would I be able to hide my secrets from Crystal. The answer was, not likely. I had no intention of telling her, but I wouldn’t lie if she asked. Based on the looks she shot me tonight, I suspected that she pieced it together. “Not sure what you refer to,” I said evasively, turning back to him and picking up a dish in the sink to help clean up.
“Monica.”
Sighing, I put down the dish and slowly turned, crossing my arms protectively. Body language was everything. I needed to push this man away. He was my twin brother’s best friend. This couldn’t happen. “Chris.”
“Are we going to discuss what happened?”
“I would rather not.”
“Why not?” he asked, stepping closer. I hated that this kitchen had walls on three sides. Nobody could see us right now, and Chris was closing in, pinning me against the countertop. So many thoughts ran through my mind about all the ways we could do it in this house and not get caught, but I shook my head and kept my arms crossed.
“Because nothing happened. Not really. It was one moment between two friends. Nothing to discuss.”
“Oh? Nothing happened?” Chris rubbed his jaw and squinted his eyes as he towered over me with his indecently sculpted body. It was not fair to use it as a weapon against me, but I bit my bottom lip and met his gaze.
“Nope.”
Leaning closer, Chris whispered, “I seem to recall that something did happen, Mon.”
“You said it would never leave that room, that it was a mistake. We agreed on that score. It happened. It’s over. You seemed rather angry at me when it was all over. Mr. Christopher Farrington made an ‘uncalculated’ decision and wanted me to feel bad about it.”
“That isn’t what happened, Monica. We agreed I would... pull out,” he whispered. “It didn’t happen. I’m sorry I was angry. I wasn’t mad at you; I was mad at myself. I just want to make sure everything is... okay...”
I looked at Chris and scrunched my face, wondering what he was talking about. Then, it dawned on me as my eyes grew wide. “Oh, my God. You’re worried I’m... pregnant?” I lowered my voice. He nodded and frowned. “No! Ew! I am not. I mean, it’s only been two weeks. But, as I said, I’m on the pill. Nothing to worry about.”
Chris pursed his lips and scanned me with his eyes. “You don’t need to say ‘ew’ like having my baby would be disgusting,” he said, clearly insulted. “But, fine. Good. I told you, Monica. Work is my entire life. I just don’t have time for anything else.”
Now I was insulted and pushed at his solid chest. “I never said I wanted a damned thing from you! You’re the one pinning me up against a fucking counter. You wanted answers. Now you have them. You are now free to move about the cabin.”
Stepping away, Chris ran a hand through his short dark hair and sighed. “Monica. It’s not like that. I care about you. You aren’t just another one-night stand.”
“Yes. Yes, I am. That’s exactly the point. It was never more than two friends humping it out. It’s done.” Turning my back on him, I reached for the dish once more, determined to be done with this incredibly offensive conversation.
But I still felt his presence behind me. He had not retreated. I felt his breath on the back of my neck, heard his breathing against my ear. “You’re a special woman, Monica. I would be a fool not to want you. I’m sorry if I cannot help remembering that night. I wish we had had time for so much more. I know it cannot and will not ever happen again. I just wanted you to know that it was special to me. You are special to me. I never want anything to ruin that for us.”
I looked over my shoulder, finding us face to face, his lips nearly grazing mine. His eyelids lowered, and I wondered if he was going to kiss me. Then I wondered if I was going to let him kiss me.
“Time for presents!” Crystal’s voice filled the room just as she came around the corner. Chris stepped away just as I turned and pretended to be washing the same dish for the third time. Clearing his throat, Chris stepped away and left the kitchen, disappearing around the corner.
“What the flying fuck was that?” Crystal asked as she stepped forward.
“That was Chris Farrington. Your husband’s business partner, best man at your wedding, giant man who is broodier than Batman.”
“Don’t play games with me, Mon.” Crystal stepped forward. “You guys totally boned at my wedding.”
“Did not.” I kept washing that same damned dish, trying to keep my hands from shaking.
“Did too.”
“Not.”
“Did.”
“What makes you think so?” I finally asked, putting down the dish and giving up on it all together as I turned to face my best friend.
“One. You both disappeared for a while during the reception. Two. You both reappeared around the same time. Three. Brent said you seemed preoccupied when he came to your room. Four. Chris has been imagining you naked all night. The kind of imagining a man does when he knows exactly what’s underneath the clothing. So, hell. It’s your business. Don’t tell me if you don’t want to. But don’t let Brent find out you screwed his best friend. It won’t go over well.”
“Ok... One. I’m three whole minutes older than Brent and can do what I want. Two... fine! I did, okay. I totally boned Chris at your wedding, and I’m not sorry. He’s hot, he’s single, he’s convenient. It won’t be happening again. I can assure you. Three. Please don’t tell Brent.” I smiled widely at Crystal and batted my lashes.
Shaking her head, Crystal sighed and sh
rugged. “I wouldn’t be the one to tell him in a million years. But, Chris had better stop eye-fucking you because Brent will catch on. You guys aren’t subtle, nor was what I walked in on. If I had been Brent, Chris’s head would already be on a spike in the front yard. I want new landscaping, but that’s not what I had in mind. I hope it’s out of your system.”
“It is,” I nodded with assurance and kept my cheesy smile intact.
“Good. Let’s go open presents and hope everyone keeps their clothes on.”
Crystal walked away, and I felt myself break out in a sweat. So much for our little secret never leaving that room.
Chapter Three
Chris
WHEN THE GATE OPENED to my home, I parked my black Maserati in the driveway, grabbed my briefcase, and slowly walked up the stairs, desperate to finally put this long day behind me.
Back-to-back-to-back sales pitches, calls, meetings, and all the other chaos in the office this week wore me out. I loved my job, and I loved working with Brent, but the days following Christmas were always a blur of people playing catch up after two weeks of vacation.
Loosening my gray tie, I unbuttoned the top of my shirt and kicked off my shoes. “Sylvia, I’m home,” I called to my housekeeper, smelling pot roast and gravy as I entered my foyer.
“Mr. Farrington. You are home late,” she chided, and I shrugged in apology.
“Not by design, I assure you. However, I apologize if dinner is cold. I can reheat it myself if you want to head home.”
Waving me away, the older woman smiled and walked down the hall toward the kitchen with me following in her wake. “I know you well enough, Mr. Farrington. I started dinner later so it would still be hot by the time you came home.”
“You’re a mad genius, Sylvia.” I gave her a small peck on the cheek and sighed as I sat at one of the barstools in the kitchen. My house was huge. Way too huge for a single man who was rarely home before eight every night or away on business several times a month. “I’m not sure what I would do without you after all these years. You’re my angel.”