The Secret to Dating Your Best Friend’s Sister

by Quinn, Meghan

  He storms off toward the front desk while calling over his shoulder. “We’re getting fucking bumpers and when we get to laser tag, I’m going to destroy you.”

  At least that’s what he thinks . . .

  * * *

  “Pew, pew, you’re dead,” I say, standing in front of a shocked Bram.

  “Where the fuck did you come from?” He looks around the dark space, trying to gauge my hiding spots.

  “That’s none of your concern, but I think that last kill was your last life. Sorry, pal, but you’re done-zo.”

  “This is crap.” He rips off his laser tag vest and walks off toward the exit. Oh the poor guy, he’s had a rough day.

  Because I want to drive him crazy, I finish up the rest of the game, taking second place overall and earning a heaping congratulations from all the guys as we exit the playing room.

  “That was amazing, Julia. You annihilated Jeremy, and he’s hard to find in there.”

  I shrug. “What can I say? I’m small and stealth, and I know how to sneak up on people.” Leaning against the wall, hair mussed up probably from his frantic fingers running through the blond strands is Bram, looking not too happy.

  And when one of the guys puts his arm around me, Bram turns a deathly shade of red as he pounces off the wall and stalks toward us. Uh-oh.

  “You should come have a drink with us. We’re heading down to O’Brien’s two blocks down. Beer is on us.”

  “She’s busy,” Bram says, his voice a thunderous sound as he takes my hand in his.

  “Let the lady speak for herself.”

  Bram looks at me, a lift to his brow, waiting for my answer. And just because I’m feeling really frisky, I say, “I don’t know, a nice cold brew sounds good right about now.”

  His eyes narrow, and then the smallest of smirks peeks past his lips. Oh crap, I know that sly smile. He’s about to leave me with these guys, I can feel it in my bones and in the way he starts to pull away. He’s calling my bluff.

  “Oh yeah. Okay, well, have fun then.” He gently presses a kiss against my cheek and takes a step back. “Have fun with . . . Bruce, was it?”

  “Yup, that’s me,” a burly, very sweaty man says.

  “Have fun with Bruce . . . Julia.” Shit, my full name. “I’ll see you later.” He tips his head in my direction and then takes off toward the doors.

  Bruce wraps his arm around me again, and the smell of his sweat is nauseating. “So shall we go grab a pint?”

  I slip out from under his grasp and look toward the exit where I no longer see Bram. “Uh, I actually think I should go make sure Bram is okay. I think he hurt his arm in there.”

  “He seemed fine to me,” Jeremy says off to the side.

  “I think his ego was wounded.” Bruce belly laughs. “But that’s pretty much it. Leave the douche to lick his wounds.”

  “That douche is my boyfriend.” I rip off my vest and toss my gear in front of Bruce. “And he’s the best man I know, despite his lack of instinct in laser tag or his inability to throw a bowling ball properly. So if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go find him.”

  Chin held high, I leave the men to their laser tag gear and power walk toward the exit, Bram on my mind. I hope he hasn’t gone too far, although, he’s really good at power walking, especially when he’s on a mission.

  Just in case he hopped into his car already, I reach for my phone just as I’m wrapped up in a strong embrace. Looking up, I catch the shimmer in Bram’s eyes and the sexiness of his easygoing smile.

  “What on earth are you doing?” I ask, trying to catch my breath.

  He leans forward and presses a kiss against my lips. “Reminding you that even though I’m inadequate at Bowl-o-Rama and More, I excel in other aspects of life.” He rotates his hips against me and quickly lifts me against the wall. Instinctively, my legs wrap around his waist and my arms circle his neck.

  He pins me against the wall where his lips fall onto mine, expertly reminding me what he’s talking about. I sigh into his hold and let his mouth do the work, my heart pounding hard.

  I’m not sure if it’s because he seems more real to me from our games today, or if it’s the spontaneity he’s brought to my life, but there is a whirlwind of feelings spinning like a tornado deep inside me. Feelings I’ve never felt for another person before. Feelings that equally terrify me and excite me all at the same time.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  BRAM

  A low laugh releases from Roark’s mouth as he leans his head back and looks toward the blue sky. Spring is starting to hit New York City and everyone has come outside to enjoy the warming weather, including Roark and me.

  “How’re things with Julia? I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

  “Things are perfect,” I answer like a dickhead in love because, hell, I am a dickhead in love. If I were a cartoon, I would have red hearts constantly floating over my head, letting everyone know around me that I’m a damn fool who’s lost his heart to his best friend’s sister.

  Roark lets out an obnoxious sigh before sitting up and taking a swig of his whiskey—the whiskey he had to have at ten o’clock this morning. “Perfect, aye? How adorable.”

  He’s in rare form today. I’ve seen him like this a few times—a cranky bastard with a penchant to continue to drink until he’s passed out by noon. It’s caused by one of two things: a girl or his family. Judging by the multiple flasks he brought with him, I’m going to guess it’s his family.

  “Hear from your family recently?”

  “Last night.” He takes another swig. “They want more money.”

  “For what?”

  “Who fucking knows?” Roark’s accent thickens. “Probably for some more potatoes and cabbage.”

  “What did you say?”

  “Told them the check’s in the mail like always.”

  Fucking hell.

  “Roark, come on, man, we talked about this.”

  “Yeah, I know,” he sighs. “But Irish guilt weighs heavily on me. It’s the best type of guilt, filled with Catholic damning and lack of respect for the ancestors who came before me. It’s a bunch of bullshit that I don’t want to deal with. Sending a check is easier.”

  I’m not going to drag out the inevitable. He’s not going to change. I’ve known him for a long time now and if anything, his stubbornness is what’s going to be the death of him, not the drinking or the partying. It will be his stubborn will, so there is no use fighting it.

  “I get it.”

  Roark plucks a strawberry from his plate and chews on it while looking out toward the street. “So when are you going to ask Rath for her hand in marriage?”

  I chuckle. “Is it that obvious?”

  “Dude, it’s like you’re practically wearing a ring right now, waiting to show any sorry motherfucker your new engagement.”

  My hand goes to the back of my neck where I rub it a few times. “We’ve been going out for about a month now, so there won’t be a proposal any time soon. But is it in the future? Hell yeah. She’s the one. I’ve known ever since I met her. Rath knows where my head’s at.”

  “Yeah?” Roark nods. “And you’re not fucking it up?”

  “No. I’m zoned in. It’s going to sound fucking cheesy, but it feels like I was meant to be her boyfriend all along. It comes naturally, joking with her, loving on her, taking care of her.”

  “Well, you’re been taking care of her and joking with her since college, so the other shit is an added bonus at this point.”

  He’s got a point. I’ve been friends with Julia for a long time. I made her a part of my circle, always making sure she was protected and cared for. The addition of intimacy feels so natural, as if it should have been there all along.

  “So what now? Are you going to move in together?”

  “Dude, slow down, I’m just making sure I don’t scare her away.”

  With a serious look in his eyes, he asks in a gravelly voice, “Do you think she doesn’t like you enoug
h yet?”

  “No, not necessarily. I can see the affection in her eyes, but I know her brain is whirling, trying to understand everything. She’s very precise and well thought out in everything she does, and I think our relationship is throwing her for a loop. She’s taking it one step at a time. It’s why I’m not pressuring her or pushing her. I’m just making sure she knows how much I’m into her.”

  “I’m sure you’re in her a lot.” Roark laughs and coughs before taking a sip of his whiskey.

  “Jesus, man.” I look him up and down. “You’ve had better days.”

  “Don’t I fucking know it.” He sighs and slouches down in his chair. “Give me today. Tomorrow I’ll clean up.”

  It’s not the first time I’ve heard that, then again, he hasn’t died yet, and if he would have ever died from his lack of care for his body, it would have been in college. At least now he spends a little time in the gym, even if he is hungover while he’s doing it.

  “Why the fuck did I forget my sunglasses?” Roark squints. “Between the sun and the light of love beaming off you, I’m going to be blinded for days.”

  “Don’t be jealous.” I toss my napkin at him.

  “Jealous?” He mocks me. “Please, there is no way I would ever want to be in your position. Fucking madly in love and waiting every second to be with the girl of your dreams.” He shakes his head. “Nah, not for me.”

  “You know when guys say that, what they really mean is they’re lonely.” Because I’ve been there. Waiting for Julia. Lonely.

  Roark lifts a brow in my direction. “Is that so? Well then, I look forward to meeting the girl the universe has picked out for me. I just hope to God she isn’t Irish.”

  * * *

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  I look at the wooden spoon in my hand and then down at the sauce on the stove. “Uh, stirring the sauce.”

  “Did I ask you to stir the sauce?” Julia asks, wearing nothing but an apron and thong.

  “No, but I thought I would be helpful.”

  “Being helpful is staying out of my way.” She points to the counter on the other side of the kitchen. “Sit over there, don’t touch me, and don’t touch my food.”

  “You know, when I came home to find you naked and cooking in my kitchen, I thought this would go a different way.”

  “Well, you took too long to get home and now we’re in the critical phase of cooking, so there will be no fooling around until after dinner.”

  I grumble and move my way toward the other end of the kitchen where I have a perfect view of her ass. “It’s not my fault traffic was a bitch. I really shouldn’t be punished for the overpopulation of New York City.”

  “You know I take my gnocchi making seriously, so sit there like a good boy and think of all the ways you’re going to defile me later.”

  “That’s just going to turn me on, and my dick is already hard from seeing you in that apron and thong. I don’t think I can take dirty thoughts right now.”

  She tosses me a smile over her shoulder and says, “Then tell me about your day. Maybe that will distract you.”

  Doubtful, but I finally have that person in my life I can share meaningful things with, and something huge happened today. Julia was the first person I wanted to tell, and I fucking love that this is one of the many things that being with her brings.

  “Did I ever tell you about my property on Seventh?”

  She continues to add seasonings to her sauce as I talk to her. “You have a property on Seventh? That’s impressive.”

  “Well, I actually have two now.”

  “What?” She turns her head as if to see if I’m serious.

  I slowly nod, pride beaming through me. “I got a call from my real estate manager a month and a half ago and he told me about this couple selling all their properties in the city and moving to Tahiti. I looked through their portfolio and bought three of their properties. Two in SOHO and one on Seventh. It’s the building right next to mine.”

  “Oh my God, that is amazing. You must be really excited.”

  “I am. It’s huge for business. I already have companies bidding for rental space and because of my big grab, they’re featuring me in the Times, doing this whole piece on young real estate moguls.”

  That stops Julia in her pursuit to make dinner. She spins around, wooden spoon in hand. “Are you serious?” I nod. “That’s . . . that’s incredible.” She quickly runs over to me and pulls my head down to hers where she places a kiss on my lips. “I’m so happy for you, Bram.”

  “Thanks, babe.” I smile lazily, in fucking bliss right now. “Feels a little unreal, but I’m pumped. They’re interviewing me in the next few days.”

  “Are they going to take your picture?”

  “Uh, not sure. I didn’t go over the details with Linus. He’s taking care of everything.”

  “This is so exciting. My boyfriend, the real estate mogul.” She gives me a playful wink. “Looks like we have some celebrating to do tonight, some naked celebrating.”

  I groan and hang my head. “Julia, come on, this is torture enough.”

  “Am I supposed to feel bad? Do you remember two nights ago when you were playing with my clit for what seemed like twenty minutes?”

  “How could I forget? You were so wet.”

  “Yeah, I know. So this little waiting period you have to endure isn’t going to kill you.”

  I hop off the counter and walk up behind her as she puts the last of the gnocchi in the boiling water. “You don’t care that this wait might make my dick fall off?” I slip my hands under the apron and cup her full breasts in each palm. I rub my thumbs over her nipples and she easily sinks into my hold, her back falling into my chest, her head falling to the side, giving my lips access to the sweet column of her neck.

  “The sauce will burn.”

  “Put it on simmer,” I answer between kisses, my dick growing harder with each little sigh that falls from her lips.

  She reaches out and turns down the burners and then tosses the wooden spoon on the counter. Her hands go to the back of my neck, giving me the green light. Thank fuck.

  “If I reach into your thong right now, are you going to be wet for me?”

  “Why don’t you find out?”

  That’s exactly what I wanted to hear, but first, I need to get rid of this apron. I give the knot a quick pull and undo the whole thing, pulling it over her head and dropping it on the floor. I move us both away from the stove and lean her forward, placing her palms on the counter and sticking her ass in the air.

  “Don’t move.” I slip my hand down her ass to her thong where I shimmy the fabric down her legs. She steps out of it and flicks the scrap of fabric away with her toe. Without even asking, she spreads her legs and sticks her ass in the air, begging for me.

  Christ.

  I slip my hand between her legs and find her ready, aroused. I ease two fingers inside her tight channel, watching the way her muscles tense and then relax, her head falling to the counter.

  “You can’t tell me you didn’t want this the minute I came home.”

  “I did, desperately. I was turned on just thinking about it.”

  “They why make me wait?”

  “Because I wanted to see how long you could last without touching me. With every second that passed, I became more aroused.”

  “Christ, Jules.” I quickly undo my pants and pull out my erection. The head of my cock teases her entrance before entering her in one full thrust.

  “Yes,” she calls out, gripping the edge of the counter. “Make it hard, Bram. I want to feel you deep inside me.”

  Fuck, with that kind of talk, there is no way I’ll last long.

  I grip her hips and do precisely what she wants—I pound into her, hard and fast. Our skin slaps together, our moans of approval mix together, and our bodies don’t move besides where we are joined.

  “Harder, Bram.”

  A grunt rolls out of me as I slam into her harder and
reach around to her clit and press my thumb over the little knob, quickly tapping it, causing a vibrating sensation over the bundle of nerves.

  She tenses around my cock as she stands on her toes, angling herself even more. “Yes, oh God, just like . . . oh my God, yes, keep doing that. Oh Bram . . . oh yes. I’m going to come.” Just as she announces it, her pussy clamps around my cock, squeezing me so goddamn tight. She cries out my name, the sound like an electric shock through my spine, pushing me over the precipice, pleasure enveloping me.

  I spill inside her, my grunts matching the light moans dripping from her mouth.

  “Christ,” I huff out. “Jules, what the hell was that?”

  She softly chuckles. “I have no idea, but whatever it was, we’re doing it again after dinner.”

  “Fine by me.”

  I smooth my hand over her ass and then give it a good slap. “Now fix me a plate, woman.” When she glares at me, a hearty laughs pops from me. “Kidding, kidding. I’ll get us some plates. You go sit your fine ass down at the table.”

  I kiss her back and go to the cupboard where the plates are, dick still hanging out of my jeans. The mister is still hard, there is no way I’m stuffing it back in my pants right now, plus I plan on shucking my clothes once I go to sit at the table. Naked dining it is tonight.

  * * *

  “I have something for you.”

  “What?” Julia asks, lifting from my chest where I was just running my fingers through her hair.

  After naked gnocchi night, I felt the urge to claim her in a whole other way, not just with my dick, but with thoughtfulness.

  We’re out on my balcony, taking in the city lights and the cool night air, enjoying a glass of wine. I couldn’t think of a better time to give her my gift.

  Hand on my chest, she studies me. “When you say you have something for me, are you going to say something immature like ‘your dick’?” She uses a deep voice, mocking me.

  “No,” I laugh, “but your Bram impression is uncanny.”

  She playfully fluffs her hair. “I’ve been practicing. I think it’s spot on.”