Brothers Next Door

by Samantha Twinn

  "Dean is Tyler's brother."

  "How did you not know that?"

  "They're step-brothers. Dean was away at college and rarely came home. I only met him once."

  "Does he know that you and Tyler were a couple?

  "Yes, but that doesn't matter. I need to get out of here."

  "Of course it matters. If it doesn't bother him, it shouldn’t bother you. You promised me you were over Tyler,” Liv said. “At least, tell me if he’s hot."

  "Yes, but—"

  "No buts. You need to move on with your life, Brenna,” Liv says, a little softer.

  “I know. But I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

  “Screw good idea. Actually, no. Screw him. Literally. Take him home and ride him like a bronco. You're not looking for forever. Just a distraction. That is unless you lied to me and you're still not over Tyler."

  “I’m over Tyler,” I say, trying to convince myself as much as Liv. “But Dean isn’t some guy. He’s Tyler’s brother. It doesn’t feel right.”

  “Step-brother,” Live reminds me. “Listen, sweetie. Dean is like eating dessert before dinner. It’s naughty. You know you shouldn’t, but all that sticky sweetness just calls to you. Do something naughty for a change.”

  "You are no help at all," I grumble under my breath.

  "I love you, too. Have fun and use protection."

  Liv hangs up, and I’m left there with no other option than to go face Dean. Maybe she’s right. Tyler doesn’t care so why should I? Because I’ve been in love with him for years and being with his brother seems wrong.

  He’s fine with it.

  Dean’s words keep echoing in my head. One summer. I was with Tyler one intense summer eight years ago. It’s obvious that that time meant more to me than it did to him. I can’t keep letting a man who doesn’t want me ruin my love life.

  I have a guy out there who wants me. At least, if I haven’t scared him off with my crazy outburst and sudden departure. Tonight, I’m going to shut off my brain and follow Liv’s advice.

  Chapter Ten

  DEAN

  Brenna finally comes out of the bathroom, and I watch as she makes her way through the crowded dining room back to our table. I was worried that her history with Tylor might be a problem, but I was more concerned with my brother’s reaction. I had planned for that, but I hadn’t planned on Brenna freaking out.

  As she got closer, I try to judge her mood. I hope it isn’t as bad as I fear. But as she gets closer, she’s looking everywhere but at me. Yep, this isn’t happening. I blow out the breath I’ve been holding and signal the waiter.

  Tyler and I are competitive. We bet on stupid things and always try to outdo each other. But I’m not competing over her. It’s just my luck. I finally find a woman who captures my interest—who’s genuinely interested in me and not my money—and Tyler has already beat me.

  She sits down and fidgets with her napkin, folding it, laying it across her lap, adjusting it, and refolding. Her discomfort is painful to watch.

  “Is everything alright?” I ask

  “Sorry. I…uhm. I didn’t mean to leave… Then I had a call… Everything is fine. What were we talking about?” She looks up and attempts a smile. I would laugh at the pitiful effort if the whole situation wasn’t so awkward.

  It’s obvious that my relationship with Tyler is an issue. There’s only one thing I can do about it.

  “The waiter is bringing our check,” I say. “If you’re not finished, we can wait, or I can have them box it up for you. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

  Relief flashes across her face, but then something I can’t quite read. Disappointment? I’m probably just projecting. The waiter comes back and collects our plates, leaving the check behind. The silence at the table is an unwelcome, but not unexpected, guest. I wanted this date to be memorable, but not in this way.

  “I’m sorry I ruined tonight,” she says after we leave the restaurant and start walking the three blocks back to our apartment.

  “You have nothing to be sorry for,” I assure her.

  I slide a hand to the small of her back to help her navigate the uneven sidewalk, and I can’t help but imagine what it would have been like to have her slight body pressed against mine. To have my fist wrapped around her glossy black hair as those wine-stained lips suck me off. I grit my teeth and banish those thoughts. It’s not going to happen.

  “This was my fault,” I say as we wait to cross the street. “I assumed you knew who I was. I knew who you were right away. It never occurred to me—” I shrug my shoulder and try to play off my disappointment. “You know, it doesn’t matter.”

  “This is ridiculous.” She looks up at me. Her big blue eyes soften, and she lets out a breath. “Does it bother you that I dated Tyler?”

  “No.” The light changes, but we don’t move. “But I have a feeling it bothers you.”

  “I’ll admit, I was shocked when I found out and reacted badly. You caught me off guard. But it shouldn’t matter that you’re Tyler’s step-brother.” She says, firmly. As if she is trying to convince herself. "We were young. I was a different person back then."

  I’m not sure if her answer puts me at ease or if I should be worried. There’s more to their history than either one is letting on. It would be safer to end this now, but I can’t.

  "Funny, Tyler said almost exactly the same thing."

  "Well, it's true,” she says and crosses the street. “Do you remember what you were like when you were eighteen? You think you have everything figured out, but in reality, there's so much you don't know. Living on my own and supporting myself. Starting my own company. I've learned so much about life and myself. I wouldn’t even recognize the girl I used to be." She stops in front of our building and takes my hand between hers. “I’d like to start over if we can.”

  “I’m not angry with you,” I say, bringing her hand up to my lips and kissing the knuckles. “I had a nice time getting to know you, and I’d still like to be friends.”

  “What if I don't want to be friends?” she says, blinking those big, innocent eyes up at me.

  “Well, I suppose we could be polite neighbors,” I say and let go of her hand. “You don't owe me anything.”

  “That's not what I mean,” she says, stepping closer. “Last night, when you were sitting on the floor with me, and you tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, did you want to kiss me? Because I wanted you to. I still want you to kiss me.”

  My gaze drifts down to her lips. “What exactly are you trying to say?” I ask.

  “Landon is staying the night at a friend’s house after band practice. I have a bottle of wine and some ice cream. Would you like to come up for dessert?” she says, her lips curling into a smile. Those cute ass dimples appear, and I wonder if she knows how inviting her offer is.

  “I do want to kiss you. I want to do so much more. But I’m not going to compete with the past.” I pull her against me and tip her chin up, letting my finger trace her lips. “If I go upstairs with you, it’s going to be just you and me.”

  A shiver travels down her spine, and she nods, letting out a shaky breath.

  I lean down and seal our agreement with a kiss. That was probably my first mistake. When our lips touch, it’s all over. I don’t care if she still has a thing for my brother, I have to have her.

  I’ve kissed my share of women in the past, but every one of those encounters pales in comparison. Her lips are sweet with the taste of wine and cherry lip gloss. Carnal pleasure and innocence swirled together, just like the woman in my arms.

  My tongue delves deeper into her mouth, and a low, soft moan escapes her lips. Her fingers curl into a fist, and she pulls at my shirt. And just like that our kiss turns desperate. My cock aches to claim her as my own. A primal desire overtakes me, and I’m determined to make her mine.

  Because it doesn’t matter who came before me, tonight there will be only one name on her lips.

  Chapter Eleven

  BRENNA
<
br />   I close and lock the door behind us. I press my head against the cold steel door and take a deep breath. Maybe this is a mistake. But before my nerves have a chance to take hold, Dean has me in his arms.

  He kisses me again, the pace more frantic than the kiss outside our building if that’s even possible. My bag slides from my shoulder and hits the ground, spilling its contents all over the entry. I barely register the mess.

  “Are you sure? Tell me to stop now,” he says as he trails kisses down my neck.

  “No. Don’t stop,” I breathe. It’s all I can get out.

  His teeth sink into the tender skin at the junction on my neck, and I moan, letting my head fall back. I should feel self-conscious or at least nervous, but there’s no time for either. His hands slide under my skirt, cupping my ass, pulling me into his body. Into his—oh, my God, monster cock. He lifts me off the floor, and I wrap my legs around his waist, my soaking wet center pressed against his hard abs.

  “Where’s your bedroom?” he asks and nips at my lips. He breaks away long enough for me to catch my breath and point to the back hall. “Last chance,” he says, looking down at me with those dark eyes full of want.

  I don’t even hesitate. “Second door on the right,” I say and pull him back in for a kiss.

  He walks us back to my bedroom, and before I know it, I’m lying in the middle of the bed, looking up at him. He pulls off his shirt, exposing sculpted muscles and a path of dark hair that disappears at his waistband. The bulge that I felt pressed against me is bigger than I imagined, and those nerves that were missing earlier are here now in full force. Again, I’m out of my depth.

  “I… uhm.” I lick my lips and let my eyes follow that trail down to where he’s unbuttoning his pants. “I don’t have a lot of experience with this.”

  He stops undressing and gets down on his knees in front of me. “You’re not a virgin are you?”

  “No,” I say, shaking my head. “I’ve not been with…uhm. I’ve not been with very many men, and it’s been a long time. I don’t know what you want.”

  He kisses me, slow and gentle. “Don’t worry,” he says against my lips. “I’ll tell you what to do.” He stands up and finishes taking off his pants, leaving him only in his boxer-briefs. “Let’s start by getting you out of those clothes. Take off the dress and the bra.”

  His voice lowers and takes on an air of authority. My hands automatically pull the dress up over my head as if controlled by his very command. After the bra comes off, I move to slide my panties off.

  “Don’t.” The simple word halts my progress. “I’ll take care of those.”

  He licks his lips, raking his gaze over my nearly naked form. The raw hunger in his eyes sends a shiver up my spine. He slides a finger from my knee, up my inner thigh, brushing the lace of my panties. Chills coursed through my body and I ache to touch him back, but for reasons I can’t explain, I wait for his next instruction.

  “You’re beautiful, Brenna.”

  His fingers trace my tattoo up from my hip to my breast. He flicks the ring in my nipple, and a surge of wetness floods my pussy. I shift my hips, desperate for some friction to relieve the ache that’s settled between my legs.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.” He nudges my knee and forces my legs wider. I should feel exposed, ashamed, but the way he’s looking at me makes me want to obey his every wish. His fingers are back, tracing the wildflowers tattooed on my thigh and hip. He slides under the edge of my panties and yanks them down.

  “Lean back,” he says, pulling my hips to the edge of the bed. He’s on his knees again, between my legs, looking up at me with hungry eyes. A full body shiver surges through me when his lips make contact with my mound. His tongue slips between my fold and I let out a deep moan.

  I’ve never had anyone go down on me before. I always thought it looked hot in porn, but wasn’t sure if I’d enjoy it myself in real life. I thought I’d be too self-conscious.

  I was so wrong. I rake my fingers through his hair holding him in place as he buries himself in my sex. Every flick of his tongue, every movement of his fingers, sending me closer to release.

  “Fuck, you taste so good,” he growls against my sensitive flesh. “Do you like this?”

  I swallow hard, trying to find words. But it’s no use. I grind against his mouth and let out a desperate mewing sound. He chuckles and sucks my clit harder.

  “That’s it, baby. Come for me.”

  His fingers pump into my channel, and I push back, willing him deeper. A few more fast flicks of that magic tongue of his against my sensitive bud and I’m gone. The orgasm hits me hard and fast.

  I fist the comforter riding out the waves of pleasure that rolls through my body, breaking me apart into a million particles of light. I barely register the fact that he’s back on his feet and removing his boxer briefs. He makes quick work of the condom and is back between my legs before I’ve come down from my high.

  “Are you still with me?” he asks, his face inches above mine.

  “Yes,” I say without hesitation.

  He pushes forward, going slow. The pressure from his large cock is intense, and I dig my fingers into his shoulders. He pulls back and eases in again further. I squeeze my eyes shut and suck in a deep breath.

  “Are you okay?” he asks in a strained voice. “You’re so fucking tight. Do you want me to stop?”

  “No. Please don’t stop.” I’ve come this far, and I don’t want to stop. The pressure is already starting to ease. “It doesn’t hurt. Keep going.”

  He leans down and takes my lips in a brutal kiss as he thrusts hard and deep, filling me up. “So fucking good,” he groans against my mouth.

  My body takes on a life of its own and presses into his thrust. The burn morphs into something else, something hot and electric. He moves again, faster, deeper and my whole body racks in a shutter as the pleasure of being full of him courses through me. He rears back on his knees and grabs my hips, pulling me down the bed with him. He withdraws and spears into me again in one earth-shattering thrust. I let out a scream, and he does it again. Over and over, until I’m coming again.

  “Don’t close your eyes,” he hisses driving into me harder. “Look at me when you come.”

  Again, my body obeys his command. Even though dark spots cloud my vision, I don’t close my eyes. His lips capture mine and pounds into me, over and over, drawing out my climax. After what seems like an eternity, Dean curses and finally follows me over.

  I collapse, boneless onto the mattress and he pulls out, rolling onto his back. The scent of sex fills the room. The ragged sounds of our pants become the soundtrack to our night.

  A few minutes pass—or maybe an hour—I can’t tell in my post-orgasmic high. Dean rolls to his side and pushes the hair out of my face.

  “Are you okay?” he asks, concern in his expression. “I didn’t mean to be so rough.”

  “It was perfect,” I mumble.

  His fingers trace my skin, and I let out a sigh, trying to remember why I waited.

  “When you said, you weren’t that experienced,” he said, hesitating.

  I knew this was coming, I’m just glad he didn’t ask before we had sex. “I’m here with you,” I say. “Does it matter?”

  The minute Dean knows that the only other person I’ve had sex with is Tyler, things are going to get awkward. What we just shared was… I don’t even have words. Everything I thought I wanted, everything I thought I knew has changed. Liv was right, I can’t let the past ruin this for me.

  Something flickers behind his eyes, but he nods in agreement. “As long as you’re here with me, it doesn’t matter.”

  Chapter Twelve

  TYLER

  Two weeks.

  That’s how long Dean has been dating Brenna. Two weeks and five days. Four date nights. Five dinners in. Eight nights Dean has come home past midnight.

  Nineteen sleepless nights I’ve stared at the ceiling imagining them together.

  No
t that I’m counting.

  I was already having a hard time getting used to Brenna living just a few feet away. Now I have to imagine my brother kissing her, touching her, fucking her. The ostrich approach is my first line of defense; out of sight, out of mind. Despite living with him, I’ve barely spoken to Dean in two weeks. I leave early for work most mornings and stay out late.

  But I knew that couldn’t go on forever.

  We have a meeting across town, and I can’t come up with a reasonable excuse as to why I can't ride back to the office with him. The topic stays on business for most of the ride, but I’m not able to make it out of the car before the subject changes.

  “I want to invite Brenna and Landon over for dinner tonight,” Dean says as the car pulls up to our office.

  “That’s fine,” I say, unable to keep the sharp edge out of my voice. “I have some work that’s piling up on my desk. The apartment is all yours.”

  I pick up my bag from the floor and get out of the car, thankful for the reprieve. I thought the conversation was over, but Dean is right on my heels, following me into the elevator.

  “I don’t want the apartment to myself. I want you to be there,” he says from behind me. “I’ve tried to be mindful of your past relationship, but this thing with Brenna is happening.”

  “I told you it was fine,” I say, pressing the button to our floor again. Has the elevator always taken this long?

  “You may have said it was fine, but I know it’s bothering you. It feels like I’ve been walking on eggshells for weeks and it’s time we get everything out in the air. She’s my girlfriend—”

  “Girlfriend? I didn’t realize it was that serious.” My palms start to sweat, and the elevator starts closing in on me. Girlfriend. Just the word gives me palpitations.

  “Yes, girlfriend. And you’re my brother. You’re more than that. You’re my business partner and my best friend. I don’t want to keep these two parts of my life separate.”