The Secret to Dating Your Best Friend’s Sister

by Quinn, Meghan

  “I have vibrators and a dildo with a clit stimulator.” Holy. Shit.

  “No, you fucking don’t,” I say in disbelief.

  She nods and taps her pen on her pad of paper. “I really do. It’s how a single girl is able to make it through the streets of New York City without chopping someone’s head off.”

  “Holy shit.” I run my hand through my hair.

  She leans over on the couch and pokes me with her pen again. “And remember the rule, what is said between us, stays between us. I don’t need you blabbing to my brother about what I hide in my nightstand.”

  “They’re in your nightstand?”

  “And we’re moving on again. Would you ever record a sex tape?” But I want to spend more time talking about these sex toys. No. I want to watch her with her toys, pleasuring herself, while I jack off. And then I’ll eat her out, fuck her so hard she’ll be seeing stars, and then eat her out some more. Fucking. Hell. If Julia only knew how close I was to tossing her on her desk and pulling up that dress of hers . . . How the fuck am I going to stop that image in my mind to keep answering questions?

  “Julia, give me a minute. You have sex toys. That is so fucking sexy.”

  “Bram. Stop. We need—”

  “No. Fuck. Give me a minute. Guys are visual, and I have a fucking great imagination.”

  By the quickened breathing and tiny squeak that comes from her lips, she’s with me here. God, I want her. Right the fuck now. But, that’s absolutely off the table. For now.

  “Bram—”

  “Just give me a fucking second.” Think, Scott. Think about anything other than toys. Who did I meet with today? Oh yeah. Boring Mr. Blah Blah from wherever. Every minute with him was torture. Halitosis. Fly at half-mast. Okay. Okay, I’ve got this. I blow out a breath, and say, “Okay. Go. Next question.” I look at her face when she doesn’t speak straight away, and all I see is shock.

  She has absolutely no clue how sexy she is. No clue that she can turn me on.

  God. This woman.

  “Jules . . .”

  “Right. Yep. Okay. Would you ever record a sex tape?” With you. Yes.

  “No, being a rich fucker has prevented me from ever doing that.”

  “Smart.” She tucks a stray hair behind her ear. “What’s the best thing a woman can do to you in bed?”

  “Trust me. Plain and simple. Just trust me.”

  My answer draws her eyes to mine. “That’s the best answer I’ve ever heard.”

  “Yeah?” I wiggle my eyebrows. “Do I get extra points?”

  She chuckles. “No.”

  “Have you ever answered the door without clothes on, Jules?”

  That garners another chuckle and a shake of her head. “No, and I don’t ever plan to.” She is so cute when she laughs.

  “What, come on, it’s fun.” I gesture with my hand. “Welcome to my home, and in case you were wondering, this is my hardened cock, and he’ll be waiting for you in the bedroom.”

  “And then your neighbor walks by—”

  “Not a problem for me. I have the penthouse.”

  “Oh, I forgot,” she teases, “you’re loaded.”

  “In so many ways, Jules. I’m loaded in so many ways.”

  * * *

  “So what do you think? Will I get an A?”

  Darkness has fallen over the city, the only lights in the building that are on are in the hallways, and the floor sounds eerily quiet. The last couple hours have been full of Julia asking me questions and me slipping in mine every once in a while, not overloading her, but getting enough information from her to log it away and hopefully use it for another day.

  Like her toys. Fuck, do I hope I’ll be able to dig around in her nightstand one day.

  Between the two of us, we downed five cookies, two cartons of milk, and an orange. We hit a sugar high at one point, maybe giggled like idiots too many times, and now it’s all coming to a crashing halt as I hide yet another yawn.

  “You don’t get a grade at the end of all of this.” The elevators shut and Julia turns toward me, leaning one shoulder against the wall. “But from the questions you’ve answered and the way you’ve answered them, I have some ideas as to what color you might be.”

  “Yeah? Care to share with the class?”

  She grips the strap of her purse tighter. “No. I never fully commit to a color until I look at all the data. You’re going to have to wait.”

  “I get it, top-secret information. That’s cool. I can wait.” I stuff my hands in my pockets. “At least, I hope you’ve had fun going over everything with me.”

  “It’s been entertaining, that’s for sure. I think you’ve had some of the most insightful and vibrant answers out of any of my clients.”

  The elevator dings and we both step out at the same time and make our way to the street entrance. I hold the door open and gently place my hand at the small of her back, guiding her to the dark asphalt of the sidewalk.

  “Admit it, I’ve been your favorite client to date.”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

  “Come on,” I tease, pulling on the strap of her purse, tugging her a little closer. “It will be our little secret. I’m your favorite.”

  She reaches out and playfully presses her hand to my chest to push me away but before she can budge me, I take her hand in mine and bring her closer.

  She stares at me in shock, but when she glances at my lips, that shock turns into lust, her pupils growing, her mouth wet, a yearning vibrating off her body.

  “I . . . I had fun.” She stumbles over her words. “A lot of fun.”

  “That’s because I’m a good time, Jules. I think it’s time you realized that.” I slowly move my other hand to her hip, holding her in place.

  “I’ve always known you were a good time, Bram. That’s never been the issue.”

  “Then what’s the issue?” I tug her even closer, her mouth a few inches away, her body almost fully flush against mine. We’re so close and yet, it feels like there is still a mile between us.

  Slow and steady, keep your eyes on hers.

  “The issue . . .” She licks her lips and stares at my mouth, her body moving in a little closer. Fuck, she’s going to kiss me.

  My dick hardens from the thought, pressing against the zipper of my slacks, reminding me that it’s been too goddamn long since I’ve been with a woman.

  She licks her lips again. “The issue,” she repeats, gently pressing her hand to my chest.

  “Hey mate, watcha up to?”

  Like oil and water, Julia bounces off me, ending the moment we were sharing, and puts at least three feet of distance between us the minute we hear the Irish lilt of Roark Fucking McCool.

  What the hell is this jackass doing here?

  Teeth grinding, nostrils flared, hands flexing at my sides, I turn to see the smarmy smirk of my now ex-friend standing next to me, eating a goddamn hot dog and looking between Julia and me as if we’re a street show.

  “Where the hell did you come from?”

  He points to a bookstore across the street. “Oh you know, just catching up on me reading.” When he’s being an ass, his Irish accent grows heavier with each word. “Did ya just get done with your meeting? That went long.”

  “Lots of questions,” Julia answers, taking another step back. “So many questions.”

  “Is that so, lass?” He studies her. “Are ya just going to stand over there and not act like ya know me? Come give your buddy a hug hello.” Roark opens his arms and almost reluctantly Julia steps into them. From over her shoulder, he smiles at me and then takes another bite of his hot dog. When he releases her, he gives her a once-over, spending too much damn time on her chest. “Ya look good, Julia. Rath was right to keep me away from you.”

  “He kept you away because you have a venereal disease,” I say, my temper getting the best of me.

  “Fuck off, I do not.” He turns to Julia. “I really don’t. I keep my dick covered at all times, even
with blow jobs. I don’t want a diseased mouth sucking at my cock.”

  “Jesus Christ,” I mumble while dragging my hand over my face.

  “Uh, well, that’s good to know.” She moves another step back and gives us a curt wave. “Well, I’m going to go. Bram, I’ll schedule an appointment with Linus to go over your results and the next steps.”

  “You can just call me, you know.”

  “Linus is fine. Have a good night.” And with that, she turns and practically sprints away down the block.

  Once out of sight, I punch Roark right in the flesh of his arm. “What the hell, man?”

  “Ouch,” he complains and while rubbing out the sore spot. “What was that for?”

  “You know exactly what that was for. Were you waiting in that bookstore the entire time I was up there?”

  The smile on his face is so goddamn huge that my fist is gearing up for another punch. “Yeah, I was. Brilliant idea if I do say so meself. And not only did I get to mess up your little goodbye, but I got in touch with the female body and read all about a woman’s erogenous zones and how to particularly pleasure every single one of them.”

  “You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

  “What’s the big deal? I thought you didn’t like her?” His voice drops, trying to imitate me and it only makes me angrier.

  “You know damn well that’s not the truth.” I grip the back of my neck. “Fuck, man, she finally seemed willing to kiss me, and you ruined it.”

  “Nah, she wasn’t going to kiss you. It might have seemed like it, but she wasn’t. She was too timid.”

  “She was going to kiss me. She leaned in.”

  He wiggles his finger at me, chewing up the rest of his hot dog, making me wait before he answers. He swallows, brushes off his hands, and says, “She swayed. Leaning and swaying is different. And trust me, I know Julia Westin enough to know she’s not about to kiss her brother’s best friend outside her place of work. She would do it in private where she can run to her room, bury her head in her pillow, and think about everything she just did.”

  I hate that he’s right.

  And I hate even more that he knows something intimate like that about Julia.

  He pats me on the shoulder. “Sorry, man, but she wasn’t about to kiss you and frankly, you should be thanking me.”

  “Thanking you? What the hell for?”

  With his hand on my shoulder, he pushes me toward the town car that’s waiting for him and opens the door, ushering me inside. Once he gives the driver my address, he pops open a water and takes a long swig. “I did you a favor. I saved you from embarrassment, from doing something she’s not ready for.”

  “How the hell do you know she’s not ready for it? I’ve spent the last two weeks showing her who I really am.”

  “Nah, that shit doesn’t matter. You’re smarter than this, Bram. Julia has to really think about something before she does it. She likes to pretend she does things spur of the moment, but she doesn’t. She would have regretted that kiss if it happened right then and there. But now, that it almost happened, it’s as if you planted the seed and she can really start to think about it. What it would be like to be with Bram Scott. Hell, she knows everything about you after all the goddamn questioning you went through, but now she can decide if it’s something she’s interested in or not.”

  Huh.

  I lean against the seat cushion and stare in front of me, the lights of the taxi cab in front of us almost blinding.

  “I think you and I both know I hate this more than anything, but I think you’re right, Roark.”

  “I know I’m right. I’m telling you, the best thing that happened to you tonight is the moment I broke you two up. You’ll be thanking me later.”

  Not sure about that, but his theory does have some weight.

  Staring out the window, I ask, “You don’t think it’s weird I have a thing for Julia?”

  “Nope. I was just wondering when you were going to finally accept your feelings and do something about it.”

  * * *

  I strut into my office like Leonardo DiCaprio in that meme, where he looks like the jolliest motherfucker to ever walk down a street.

  Like a ray of sunshine is beaming up my ass, paving a golden path for me where lollipops and cotton candy flank the pathway, I’m happy.

  Really happy.

  Friday night was . . . God, if only Roark didn’t get in the way. But I can’t dwell on that, because Julia almost kissed me and that was all I needed. I have her just where I want her. I wouldn’t be surprised if I walk into her office, waiting for my test results and she tells me that instead of going through with the dates, I should simply go out with her.

  That was the little scenario I came up with in my head this morning while taking a shower and you know what, I want to believe it’s true. How could it not be? She was so into me.

  Into my touch, the way I gazed at her. It was written all over her face. The way she reacted to my body, and the way she casually glanced at my lips, licking her own, wetting that delicious mouth of hers.

  Yeah, she was into it. Her body language didn’t lie.

  Linus is at his desk like the good little assistant that he is with coffee in hand, waiting for me. He texted me last night when he left my house in the Hamptons to thank me again and tell me he had a great weekend. I’m happy to give him perks like that since I rely on him so much professionally and now personally as well.

  “Linus”—I tap his desk when I get close—“order up some milkshakes. We have some celebrating to do.”

  “Really?” he asks, looking very excited. “Miss Westin agreed to go on a date with you?”

  I halt in place and cringe, turning on my heel to face him. “Well, not exactly.” Linus gives me a look. “But we did share a moment Friday night.”

  “You shared a moment?” He’s so not impressed.

  “I know it sounds lame, but we almost kissed.” I nod my head and smile. “See, a moment.”

  “Why didn’t you kiss?”

  “Roark fucking blew it. He was waiting across the street and right when I was about to close the last few inches, he interrupted, scared the crap out of Julia, and killed the mood.”

  Linus chuckles, his shoulders shaking. “I’m sorry, sir, but that’s funny.”

  “He’s a douche.” I shift on my feet, feeling excited. “But do you know what this means, she’s interested. I could feel her need.”

  “So are you going to ask her out?”

  “I don’t know.” I grip the back of my neck, thinking about my next move. “She’s going to run through my test results and get back to me.”

  “Hmm”—Linus taps his pen on his desk, thinking—“is she still going to match you with someone?”

  Huh, I never thought about that. I mean, the end goal for her is to find me a match, but after these last two weeks, after the almost kiss, wouldn’t she want to talk about it, maybe flirt with the idea of going out with me? I’m not dumb. I see the way she looks at me. I felt her breath hitch when I drew closer to her, inches away from pressing my mouth onto hers. She’s attracted to me, but the question is, will she act on it?

  “At this point, I think it would be a little weird if she tried to match me, don’t you think?”

  “Unless she got scared and decides to pull away.”

  Christ, I could see her doing that. If anything she’s always put at least a foot of space between us. In college, I think it was because I was her brother’s best friend. Well, no. She thought I was a conceited, know-it-all. An ass. Now she knows better. Now, I think it’s because she’s professional as fuck and doesn’t want to blur the lines.

  I have to admire that.

  And yet, I want to blur those lines so goddamn bad.

  “Shit.” I nibble on the inside of my cheek. “I should text her, right? Follow up, see how her weekend was? Should I send her something else? More cookies?”

  “You should definitely send her something. Not cookie
s though.” Linus wakes his computer screen and starts typing away. “Not flowers, and we already did pens. Hmm, did you have any inside jokes in college? Does anything come to memory?”

  “I bought her tampons once.”

  Linus gives me a top-notch side-eye and turns back to his computer. “How about her favorite drink?”

  “Oh, she likes soy chai lattes.”

  “Perfect.” A smooth smile passes over Linus. “We’ll keep it simple, send her a venti soy chai latte with a note on the cup. Just something to let her know you’re thinking about her.”

  “Goddamn, that’s good.” I lean over his desk as he starts texting away on his phone.

  “I have a friend who works at Starbucks who can make this happen for us. What do you want the note on the cup to say?”

  “Uh, you have nice tits?”

  Without even looking at me, Linus shakes his head and mutters, “I have no idea how you are as rich as you are.”

  I chuckle and press my hand to his shoulder. “It’s called not giving a fuck and taking what you want.” I give him a squeeze and then start toward my office as I call over my shoulder. “Have them write, ‘Hope this helps with the Monday blues.’”

  Once in my office, I pull out my phone and think about sending her a text. I wanted to send her a text all weekend, desperate for her snarky comebacks and witty quips, but I held off. Now that it’s Monday, I don’t think I can wait any fucking longer. But would it be too needy if I send her a drink and text her?

  Not if I text her now . . .

  What do I have to lose? The last thing I want is to walk into her office once she has the results and sit through the profiles she’s found for me.

  I know it’s part of the bet, but after having Julia in my arms, so fucking close to claiming her mouth, it’s all I can think about, all I want. Fuck the bet, fuck the rules about dating your best friend’s sister. I want her and I’m going to let her know . . . in a subtle way of course.

  I type up a text and send it to her.

  Bram: Morning, how did your weekend go? Lounge in your tube socks all day?

  I may not have ever been in a serious relationship before, but I feel like I can handle this. Be attentive, send her shit, let her know you think her ass looks good in jeans and her feet look comfy in tube socks . . . simple.