Rebel Roommate: A Brother's Best Friend Romance

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Rebel Roommate: A Brother's Best Friend Romance Page 9

by Jeannine Colette

On the other side of the deck, past the swarm of people circulating in raucous laughter, is the searing hot gaze of the man in question. I feel his stare like I feel the sun radiating deep into my body on a summer day. Just like the sun’s rays, I know it feels so good but can also lead to something very bad if I’m not careful.

  Nathan continues to talk, but I’m not listening.

  My eyes stay locked on Wes. Leaning against the deck railing, he’s drinking a beer from the bottle. His jaw is tense, yet his posture seems relaxed.

  Amanda clears her throat and grabs my hand. “How about that drink?”

  I look down at my cup again. It’s full, but I nod anyway. “Sure.”

  Nicole grabs Amanda’s arm, halting her from walking away. “Stacey, why don’t you go get us those drinks?”

  I turn to her, confused. Maybe she’s doing me a favor by getting me out of here, so I don’t have to see Wes. “Sure.”

  With their empty Solo cups in hand, I walk into the kitchen. Nathan is behind me. I’m not sure if that was part of Nicole’s intention, but it doesn’t seem right.

  I’m standing by the keg while Nathan is rambling on about this paper he’s working on. I’m listening, not as intently as I should, when Wes walks in the room.

  He’s standing by the doorway, staring at Nathan and me. It’s now my turn to use the keg, but I don’t move. Nathan stops talking and looks at me with confusion and then over to where I’m staring at Wes.

  The music is blaring, the people are swearing, and still, I can’t hear a thing. I can only see Wes and that searing hazel stare that’s screaming at me from the other side of the room.

  Nathan shakes his head and leans into my ear. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but suddenly, the past few weeks makes more sense.” His words get my attention, so I look up at him, surprised. “Just make sure your brother doesn’t find out.”

  Nathan turns to leave but not before giving Wes the bro-code nod of she’s yours; I’m backing off. I want to thank him and shove him at the same time. As of right now, I’m nobody’s.

  Wes walks up and grabs my hand. “We need to talk,” he says, pulling me toward the foyer.

  “Excuse me?” I fight, but either it falls on deaf ears or he can’t hear me over the loud music blaring from the inside of the house.

  He takes me out the front door and across the lawn, where his car is parked. He opens the front door. “Get in,” he demands.

  I cross my arms and raise my eyebrows at him. “Why should I?”

  He leans in, getting so close that I can feel the heat radiating off of him in the cold, foggy air. “Because I can’t live like this anymore, and we need to talk.”

  I inhale and nod my head, knowing he’s right. We need to hash this out, or we’ll never be able to continue to live together. I sit down and buckle my seat belt as I watch him walk to his side of the car.

  “Where are we going?” I ask while I text Nicole and Amanda to let them know where I am.

  “Anywhere but home,” he states as he cranks the engine and checks over his shoulder before pulling away from the street.

  I fold my arms across my chest. “Why can’t we go home?” He doesn’t answer as his hands fiercely grip the steering wheel. “Seriously, Wes. Stop being so cryptic.”

  “I don’t trust myself, okay? There, I said it. At home, there are beds and …” He shakes his head, not saying anything more.

  Well then … so this is the direction this is going.

  He pulls into the first parking lot he can find and kills the engine. The streetlight is off in the distance, so I can barely make out his facial features, but I do notice the way he keeps his eyes closed for a little too long before opening them and turning to me.

  “What’s your game, Stacey?”

  “I’m not playing a game.”

  “Cut the crap. You’re messing with me, and I want to know why.”

  “I should be asking you the same thing. You’re always messing with me. Keeping guys away, calling me childhood nicknames, and baby-sistering me all the time.”

  “Baby sister …” he speaks like the words are a curse and he can’t understand why I’d say that. “You think I look at you like a sister? How could I when I’m all fucking tied up with these feelings?”

  My breath hitches, and I take a moment to let what he just said sink in. “What feelings are those?” I say, barely above a whisper.

  He drops his head against the rest and doesn’t look at me. “That’s what I don’t know.” He inhales, slowly letting it out. “I mess with you because you’re Chad’s little sister. I kind of looked at it as my job to do so. It’s what I’ve always done. When we were little, it was fun, and in middle school, we—”

  “Kissed,” I state. “We kissed in middle school, and then you ignored me for months unless it was to torment me. But that has nothing to do with the present. You’re trying to cage me in, but I’m a grown woman. Not a child.”

  “I’m supposed to protect you.”

  “Protect me from what?”

  “From guys like me!” His voice is deep and gruff and filled with potent emotion.

  I let out a huff of a laugh, shaking my head. “Are you being serious right now?”

  He turns to face me fully, and I hold my breath with how serious his face is as he confesses, “On that dance floor, nothing was supposed to happen. You ran that chick away, and I just wanted to dance. Show whoever was watching that I hadn’t hurt you the way you said I did. Then …” He pauses and closes his eyes. “It’s like it wasn’t you I was dancing with.”

  My mouth falls open. “Please tell me you’re kidding because this is not making me feel better one bit.”

  “Fuck.” He rubs his eyes. “This is coming out all wrong. I didn’t mean it that way. I meant, I liked it. All of it. I fucking liked it a lot. I can’t think about anything but you and the way your eyes lit up when you were watching porn or how your body moves when you’re practicing yoga. That damn banana stunt nearly killed me, and at night, when I’m alone, I hear her sultry voice calling out my name. I dream about you, and when I wake up, I remember it was you and …” He stares up at the roof of the car and curses loudly. “Fuck!”

  “And what, Wes?”

  “I shouldn’t feel that way about you.”

  “Why not?”

  He rolls his head my way and gives me an are you kidding me expression. “Chad would have my balls, for one thing. I’m his best friend.”

  “And I’m an adult woman who can make my own decisions about who I sleep with.”

  He bites his knuckle. “This isn’t something that should be happening between us.”

  “Then, why am I here right now?”

  He reaches out his hand and wraps his fingers around my pinkie finger, barely touching me but sending waves of electricity flying through me.

  “Because no matter how hard I try to stay away, no matter how many extra workouts I do, trying to rid you from my mind, you won’t go away.”

  “Go away?” I ask, totally offended. “How dare you—”

  I don’t finish my sentence.

  Wes’s lips crash into mine, and I’m lost in a sea of lust, frustration, satisfaction, and desire, all wrapped in one passionate kiss. When he reaches his hands up to cup either side of my head, holding me there, I lose all control.

  My hands slide up his chest, and his move down to my sides, creeping under my sweater and tank top, gripping my waist. Our tongues dance and slide against each other in a motion that’s a thousand years old yet very new to us.

  The emotions we’ve been holding back are felt in the way we breathe each other’s air.

  The anger we have is expelled in the thrashing of tongues and the way he sucks on the skin of my collarbone.

  The pent-up desire is poured out as I climb over the gear shift and straddle his lap, settling onto him and feeling the massive girth straining against his jeans.

  “Damn, Stacey. You have no idea what you do to me,�
� he breathes against my neck.

  “You said you dream of me. Was this what I was doing?”

  My hands are in his hair as his caress my ass while I roll my hips in tandem with the fierce kissing.

  “Fuck yes. But you’re better in the flesh. So much better that my dream is going to be a nightmare.”

  “Why’s that?” I ask as I let my hands roam under his shirt and caress the firm muscle beneath.

  “Because none of the things I want to do to you are going to get me into heaven.” His hand lands on the crotch of my jeans, and I let out a hiss, pleading with him to touch me.

  I rock my hips, rubbing myself against him as he lifts my sweater.

  “Why are you wearing so many fucking clothes?”

  “Bad planning,” I say as he lifts my tank top and lowers my bra, taking my breasts in his hands and rubbing his thumbs over the pert nipples.

  “Fuck this,” he declares. “I’m definitely going to hell.”

  Wes’s mouth is on my breast, sucking on the sensitive orb and sending me reeling from his mouth on my tender skin. I continue to roll my body, loving the way his cock is growing inside his jeans and wanting so much more.

  I lower my hands to my button and undo my jeans, bringing down the zipper and lifting my hips, hoping he gets the hint.

  He growls against my skin as his hands graze down my belly and slide into my snug jeans. If we were anywhere else, I’d rip them off, but there’s no room, and I’m too impatient.

  His fingers slip under my panties and rub over my swollen clit.

  I whimper at his touch and smile.

  “Don’t do that, baby. I’m trying to be good, but you’re making it so hard.”

  “Touch me, Wes. More. Don’t stop. Whatever you do, just touch me and don’t stop,” I beg.

  For the first time in months—hell, for the first time ever—Wesley Knight does exactly what I want him to do.

  With deft fingers, he circles my clit and kisses me firmly, sucking down my moans as he builds an orgasm deep inside me with the smallest swipe of his hand. My lust for him grows, and I’m almost embarrassed with how fast I come apart in his hands. I shouldn’t be though. That orgasm wasn’t made in a moment. It was years in the making.

  I kiss him hard as he continues his movement of pulling every last ounce of pleasure from my body. The man had me like putty in his hands with the simple action. I can’t imagine what would happen if we ever did more than this.

  He removes his hand and cups my face, kissing me again. We make out for what feels like hours until he finally pulls away.

  “I have to get you back to the party,” he says with panting breaths.

  I nod in agreement. “What happens now?”

  “Fuck if I know.”

  I roll over to the passenger seat and button my jeans before pulling my top back on. I don’t feel used, but I am dejected by his comment.

  “Hey,” he says, pulling my attention back to him. “I don’t know what this is, but it doesn’t mean I’m ready for it to be over.” He grips the steering wheel again and looks out the front window. “Unless … unless you’re not into it.”

  I grab his arm and pull his gaze toward mine. “I’m into it, Wes. If you’re going to hell, then so am I.”

  Chapter Ten

  Interesting fact about hooking up with your brother’s-best-friend-slash-roommate: you don’t hook up as much as you think you will.

  In fact, it’s been over a week, and we haven’t done anything.

  Wes has been around more often, hanging in the living room and having dinner with us. He’s nicer since the car ride and back to the usual banter, like teasing me relentlessly in front of everyone like I’m the kid sister. But when no one’s looking, he does little things, suggestive things, sexy things. Sometimes, it’s a smile. Often, it’s a wink. And if I’m lucky, he touches me just because.

  Like the time we were watching television and his finger kept grazing the side of my thigh. It was a simple action that had me yearning to bring him back to my room and show him just what he could do with those fingers. Or when we pass in the hallway, he leans in and brushes his arm against mine. Once, he grabbed my ass in the kitchen, making me nearly jump out of my skin.

  I’ve never been the kind of woman to desire a man like this, but holy hell, this man makes me crazy in the best and worst way.

  Tonight, Matt and Adam are over to watch the Angels game. Nicole and I are setting out dips while they yell at the TV. I know she and Amanda are dying to know what happened with Wes that night at the frat house, but I’ve kept tight-lipped. While I want to tell someone about my rendezvous, I’m still unsure of where it’s going or if it ever will go anywhere again. Plus, it would be unfair of me to ask Nicole to keep a secret like that from Chad.

  Though Wes is Chad’s best friend, I know he’ll never be okay with us hooking up. One, he has stated numerous times that Wes has an unsavory reputation with women. Plus, the kind of hooking up we did in Wes’s car was most definitely the unsavory kind. Yes, it’s best my brother doesn’t find out about this.

  Unless …

  I take a seat on the couch and stare at my brother as Nicole takes her seat beside him. He has become different now that he’s dating Nicole. Maybe he’s so consumed by her that he doesn’t care what I do. I know he’s not my keeper, and I’ve bitched about his protective ways on more than one occasion, but that’s just Chad. The thought brings a smile to my face.

  Then, I think of what it felt like to be on Wes’s lap in his car, and I’m no longer smiling. Instead, I’m biting my lip and inhaling deeply while I clench my core.

  When I glance at Wes, his mouth tilts in a small smile, and I swear he sits up straighter to adjust himself.

  Matt comes over and plops right next to me on the couch, putting his hand on my knee. “What’s up, good-looking? You hanging out with us tonight?”

  Wes is quick to his feet. “Move it or lose it.”

  Nicole winks my direction, and I roll my eyes when Wes takes his seat, pretending to be annoyed by the closeness of him. Feeling his heat radiate off of him makes my chest tight. I move my legs to stop the ache I feel brewing inside me.

  With his arms crossed, I feel his fingers reaching out from underneath his bicep to touch me. It tickles slightly, but I try to hold it in, not wanting anyone to notice what he’s doing. Just knowing he’s dying to touch me so much that he’s figuring out ways to do so without people knowing is enough for me.

  We watch the game as Mike Trout steps up to the plate. When the count is 2–0, Wes leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, eyes glued to the television. He swings on the third pitch and hits a solid shot to left field. Wes claps his hands together once in approval and leans back in his seat. He turns to me as he raises his arms and rests them on the back of the couch, one of his hands behind my head. A finger slides through my hair and rubs circles on the nape of my neck, sending chills down my spine. It’s super flirtatious, and it gives me instant butterflies.

  I look away and meet eyes with Nicole, who gives me an expression that screams I was right, but I blow it off and sit up to head toward the kitchen to refill my water.

  As I put the Brita back in the fridge, Wes enters the kitchen too. With no one around, he comes up behind me in the small space between our refrigerator and pantry. His hands grip my hips as he runs a kiss down my neck.

  It both surprises the hell out of me and shocks me that he would do something while everyone is around. But just as fast as he’s there, he’s turned and standing at the half-wall, his attention back to the television.

  Knowing he can see everyone who’s in our apartment, I decide to be just as bold as he was.

  Taking the spot next to him, I stare at the television while, with the most casual grace, I move my hand over to the seam of his sweatpants and run my fingers over the outline of his cock.

  He lets out a sharp hiss as I cup my hand around the quickly growing girth and then move up and down. I can feel e
very outline, every rim, every vein as well as the smoothness of his balls as I lightly run my fingers all around, learning everything about him for the first time.

  His eyes are on the television, but he has a blank, wide-eyed stare. I smile as I watch the game. Someone strikes out, and the guys curse at the screen. I take the opportunity to slip my hand inside the elastic of his boxer briefs and grab hold of the steel-coated erection, running my thumb over the rim of his swollen head and down the pleasure vein.

  “Yo, Wes. Grab me a beer,” Matt shouts.

  I smile at the fact that we look like we’re two people watching the game from behind a half-wall when, really, I’m basically jerking him off.

  Wes puts his hand over mine, stopping my movements and pulling my hand out of his pants so he can get that beer.

  I cover my mouth, stifling a laugh as I watch him adjust himself by the fridge. I do him a favor and grab that beer for Matt and one for myself. I take my seat on the couch and hand Matt his drink. He doesn’t even notice it’s me giving it to him since his eyes are glued to the screen.

  After a few minutes, Wes is back and takes his seat next to me, nudging my shoulder and whispering, “Not cool.”

  “You didn’t like it?”

  “You’re a vixen, you know that?” He takes a huge gulp of beer.

  “Don’t lie. You loved it,” I whisper back and smile when he lets out a soft laugh under his breath.

  “I did. Just remember, payback’s a bitch.”

  Before the game is over, Matt stands up, downing the last of his beer before saying, “I have to get going. My internship starts tomorrow, and I have to be there bright and hella early in the morning.”

  “You haven’t started that yet?” Wes asks, seeming annoyed.

  “You’re gonna have a shit-ton of hours to catch up on,” Chad chimes in. He’s working for an engineering firm whose main account is the city and maintaining all of the bridges that lead into San Francisco. “Where are you doing yours?” he asks Matt.

  “City hall.”

  “Nice. Whose ass did you have to kiss to land that gig?” Adam asks with a laugh.

 

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