His Best Friend's Older Sister

by Laura Jardine

  She took the flowers and sniffed. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had bought her flowers, and she was so touched that he’d done this for her, even though it was a simple gesture.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  He stepped inside. “I thought I’d come a little early so we could have some time alone.” He raised his eyebrows.

  Her skin tingled. But this wasn’t part of the plan.

  “I invited you for brunch,” she said. “Which means I am spending the next hour in the kitchen. So, unfortunately, that’s not an option. But if you want to stick around after everyone leaves…” She glanced at the food laid out on the kitchen island.

  “Okay, okay. I get the point. I can help.”

  “No,” she snapped.

  “Em.” He raised his hands in surrender. “If you don’t want me here, I’ll come back in half an hour. It’s fine.”

  She was a horrible host. “No, you can stay. But I’m a control freak in the kitchen and I like to do it all myself. You’ll have to entertain yourself in the living room.”

  He stepped closer. The flowers were in her hands, between them. He kissed her on the lips. One slow, tantalizing kiss.

  She was not going to enjoy cooking the way she usually did. She was going to be distracted the whole time.

  “Relax,” he murmured. He fiddled with the bow at the back of the apron. “I love this. I think you should wear it when we fuck.”

  Oh, that word did something to her.

  “And who would I be, wearing an apron?”

  “Just yourself,” he said.

  “Is that because being the dirty boss or principal bothers you?”

  He didn’t reply.

  “Perhaps I could be your maid,” she suggested.

  “Perhaps.” He undid the bow. “You know what this apron makes me think of? A 1950’s housewife.”

  It was light blue with a pattern of cherries and a red ruffle.

  And now it was on the floor.

  “Hey!” she said. “I’m cooking.”

  “What are you making?”

  “Smoked salmon and cream cheese crostini. Green salad and fruit salad. Bacon. Garden vegetable frittata. Brownies.”

  “Impressive.” He paused. “You always impressed me.”

  It was spoken with sincerity, it wasn’t a throwaway line. The compliment made her feel a touch awkward and reminded her of their long history, but she tried not to make too much of it.

  “Oh, did I?” she murmured, tucking her hair behind her ear.

  He walked around the kitchen, checking out her preparations.

  “You have incredible knife skills,” he said. “Everything is diced perfectly.”

  “Why, thank you. I took a class once.”

  “What on earth are these?” He held up the bowl of ice water. “Carrots?”

  “Yes. They’re in ice water to set the curls. I’ll put them on top of the salad, along with the toasted pine nuts.”

  “Are you one of those people who like to take pictures of their food? I bet you are. Do you own a special plate that has a slot for your phone?”

  “No, I’m old-fashioned.” She grabbed her camera—an expensive one with a telephoto lens—off the dining room table and held it up. “I use this.”

  He laughed. “I didn’t realize I was dating a food porn professional.”

  They regarded each other from across the kitchen. Did he realize what he’d said?

  “We’re not dating,” she said.

  A little furrow appeared between his eyebrows, but then he said easily, “No. We’re just sleeping together.”

  She was torn between two feelings. Thrilled that she was having amazing no-strings-attached sex. And also a bit disappointed that they weren’t dating, because this was kind of fun, even if he was screwing up her plans.

  But that was okay. He was helping her become who she wanted to be—a woman who enjoyed sex, and not only when she was fully clothed. Once she had become that woman, she would find another guy. Someone wonderful, who would love her for who she was.

  For the first time, she truly believed that was possible.

  “Is something wrong?” Jay asked.

  “No, no. I’m fine.” She twisted her hands. “Thank you. You make me feel … like I might actually find someone. Since you find me beautiful, even after seeing my skin.”

  It was more than just how he looked at her. He said he’d liked her when they were children, when she’d felt so completely alone, when it seemed like nobody cared. And he was putting up with her crazy insecurities over her appearance. And coming over for brunch with her friends, and playfully teasing her about food porn.

  She didn’t need to be anyone but herself when she was with Jay.

  She ran over and wrapped her arms around him.

  “Hey.” He staggered backward. “What was that about?”

  “I just feel good right now,” she said, “and I wanted to hug you. And later I promise I’ll do more.”

  He groaned. “It’s going to be tough to control myself for the next few hours.” He nuzzled her hair and whispered, “You look so hot today.”

  She smacked his ass because she could. Really, she owed him, after all the times he’d spanked her last Saturday.

  “Put the flowers in a vase and set the table,” she said.

  “Look at you. Barking orders.”

  She picked up her apron and tied it around her waist. And that gave her an interesting idea.

  Later, perhaps.

  “If you do everything I ask,” she said, “I’ll let you look at my food porn collection.”

  “Is it that impressive?”

  “Trust me, it’s very impressive. And very large. And, uh, lots of close-ups.”

  Jay shook his head and smiled. “I can’t believe I didn’t see you for three years.”

  He tugged her toward him and kissed her. It was light and teasing at first, but then his hands came up to her cheeks and he kissed her more deeply. Pleasure wrapped itself around her.

  When she came up for air, she looked at the clock.

  “Shit,” she said. “I better get started on the crostini. Now put the flowers in the vase and quit distracting me.”

  ****

  Jay wandered around Emily’s condo. It wasn’t the first time he’d been here, but it was the first time he’d been here when sex wasn’t the only thing on his mind. It was a nice place, slightly bigger than his. The only reason he’d been able to buy property in this crazy real estate market was because his parents had helped with the down payment.

  There was a knock on the door. He figured he’d let Emily get that.

  “Hey!” A brunette threw her arms around Emily as soon as she opened the door. “I haven’t seen you in so long.”

  Emily led her inside and took her bottle of red wine and introduced her to Jay.

  “Tara and I met at university. She was a math major, so we had a lot of classes together.”

  “Hi.” Jay extended his hand. “I’m—”

  “Oh my God. Emily, you didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend!”

  “—not her boyfriend,” Jay said. “But we’ve been seeing each other for a little while, and when I heard about this brunch—”

  “Of course you had to come!” Tara said. “I’m sure Emily boasted about how awesome her brunches are, so you thought you’d stick around for a few extra hours rather than leaving first thing in the morning.”

  Well, there was no point in saying he hadn’t stayed overnight.

  “I’m a little behind today,” Emily said. “The appetizers will be ready in ten minutes.”

  “Oh, the horror!” Tara said. “You always have everything perfectly timed. That’s why I showed up at exactly eleven o’clock.”

  “I may have distracted her.” Jay put his arm around Emily because it felt right.

  Which was odd.

  “What are we having today?” Tara asked. “Bacon, I hope?”

  “Obviously,” Emily said.
“I never invite you guys over for brunch without frying up a lot of bacon, since that’s all you seem to eat.”

  “Did I tell you that I tried a cocktail with maple-flavored bacon bits? And that bacon-flavored chocolate you got me for my birthday was amazing. I guess I haven’t seen you since then, right? So it’s been a few months. I’m so glad you invited us over!”

  Tara, with her tousled brown hair and tight jeans and shimmering cream-colored top, was hardly the stereotypical math major.

  But Stewart, who arrived with his fiancée, Holly, a few minutes later, was a skinny man with brown hair, glasses … and a deep voice that didn’t fit his appearance.

  Marvin was the last to arrive. Jay found himself immediately sizing the man up and paying careful attention to how he looked at Emily. Was he trying to get out of the friend zone? It didn’t seem like it, but Jay couldn’t help feeling a bit possessive. When, a few minutes later, Marvin mentioned his wife, who was currently on a business trip, Jay let out a sigh of relief. Then he gave himself a stern reminder that he wasn’t actually Emily’s boyfriend.

  A reminder that shouldn’t be necessary.

  He sat on the couch and chatted with Emily’s friends while she moved around the kitchen. His eyes kept flitting back to her and that wonderful cherry apron, which he planned to drop on the floor again later.

  He loved a woman who could cook—who didn’t?

  Jay, on the other hand, could make a mean spinach-cheese omelet and do an impressive job of cutting up an orange, but that was about it. However, it was enough to impress any woman who stayed the night, if he wanted her to come back.

  But he didn’t need more than one dish in his morning-after repertoire. Because he didn’t want any of these women to stick around long.

  Suddenly that seemed horribly depressing.

  But it was just the way he was. Relationships had never appealed to him. He wished they did—and certainly some of the women he’d casually dated had wished the same thing—but there was no point trying to change what couldn’t be changed.

  The scent of bacon filled the air, and nothing could truly be wrong with the world when that happened. Especially when the hot woman he was sleeping with came over with a plate of crostini. She bent over to put it on the table, and he got a glimpse of cleavage.

  “Jay is from the dark side,” she said. “He’s an engineer.” She winked at him before returning to the kitchen.

  That wink made him wish very, very badly that she would let him take off her shirt.

  Tara looked at him in mock horror.

  “It’s really not as bad as that,” Jay said, struggling to drag his mind out of the bedroom. “Come on, Emily. I don’t actually work as an engineer. I’m a construction supervisor.”

  “That’s the only reason we’re still dating. A lot of people who study engineering don’t work as engineers. There are several in my office.”

  “When did you stop taking math?” Marvin asked. “Second year? Differential equations? You guys had it easy.”

  Jay had little recollection of anything he’d learned in university. Especially when he was staring at Emily’s ass.

  “Lucky you,” she said. “Partial differential equations and Fourier series were the death of me.”

  For some reason, it was hot when she talked about fancy math while wielding a spatula. It was impressive that she could pay attention to the conversation while cooking three different dishes.

  And he doubted she’d struggled all that much with partial differential equations, whereas he’d been on academic probation at one point.

  “What about you?” he said to Holly. “What did you study?”

  “I’m an engineer, too,” she said. “Which Stewart tries very hard to forget.” She elbowed Stewart lightly in the ribs.

  “Hey, you’re supposed to back me up here.” Jay reached for a crostini, which was, not surprisingly, delicious.

  The whole meal was amazing, and it looked like something out of a home and lifestyle magazine. Stewart ribbed Emily about all the pictures she took, but Tara took some with her phone, too.

  For dessert, Emily brought out a platter of cream cheese brownies and made a pot of coffee.

  “You know what,” Holly said. “I think Jay is the first guy of yours we’ve met since you dated Brent back in university.”

  Emily’s smile disappeared.

  Jay was pretty sure he knew who Brent was. The asshole who’d tried not to look at her after he took off her shirt. Too bad he wasn’t here. Because Jay would like to shove his fist into the bastard’s face.

  His intense reaction caught him off-guard. He had a sip of coffee and pasted on a smile.

  “Yes,” Emily said. “I suppose he is.”

  “You shouldn’t make too much of it,” Jay said. “She just showed me her food porn collection on Instagram, and I knew I had to try her cooking ASAP.”

  She looked over at him and laughed.

  God, she was luminous.

  “You two are so cute!” Tara said, reaching for a brownie. “Emily, there’s a guy from work I wanted to set you up with, but it doesn’t look like you need any help with that now.”

  At two thirty, Emily’s friends left, and Jay was alone with her once more. He hadn’t minded hanging out with Tara, Stewart, Holly, and Marvin, but he’d been looking forward to having Emily to himself.

  “Why don’t you put on that apron again?” He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “You can pretend to be my maid.” Or you can just be you.

  She giggled. “Actually, that went on a little longer than expected. I better get going. I’m sorry.”

  He’d spent more than three hours with her friends so they wouldn’t try to set her up with anyone, and now he was being kicked out? This certainly wasn’t what he’d hoped for.

  “I’m meeting my friend Liz. We’re going shopping together, then having dinner.” She seemed oddly excited by this simple plan, and he couldn’t help but be happy for her.

  “Quite the busy social life you have.”

  “It’s not usually like this. I spend a lot of weekends alone. But I’m trying not to do that as much anymore.” She paused. “You could come back tonight. Maybe at ten? I’ll definitely be back by then.”

  He planted a kiss on her lips. “Then I’ll definitely be here. Should I wear a suit?”

  “Yes. Please do.”

  “What will you wear?”

  “I don’t know,” she said coyly. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

  Chapter Nine

  Jay came back at ten after spending the evening watching baseball. It was a sad state of affairs when he could barely follow a baseball game because he kept thinking about a woman. But that was exactly what had happened.

  Who would she be tonight? A schoolgirl? Would she make him feel like a filthy old man again? And why did that feel so amazing?

  He craved something that made him feel guilty afterward. He just couldn’t help it.

  Emily buzzed him up and told him to come right in.

  So he did.

  She was sitting at her computer, wearing a short-sleeved blue sweater, and when she turned toward him, he saw miles of leg.

  Emily Branson would definitely not wear such a skirt to the office. But presumably she was supposed to be his secretary.

  He wondered when else she wore that skirt. Or perhaps she’d gotten it just for him, during her shopping trip earlier. The thought thrilled him.

  She stood up and came toward him, swaying her hips as she walked, her heels clicking on the parquet floor.

  “Good evening, Mr. Cheng. That was a long meeting you had tonight.” She started removing his suit jacket. The light touch of her fingers through the fabric of his shirt thrilled him.

  She was so polished, so put together, and the food she’d made earlier—like a perfect little housewife. But now she was going to get dirty.

  Very dirty.

  She hung up his jacket in the closet, careful to do it ju
st so.

  “I waited for you,” she said. “Since you told me not to leave until you returned.”

  He pulled her toward him abruptly and set his mouth to hers, as though he was starving, and she was the first edible thing he’d seen all day. Her mouth was soft and sweet, and he tangled his tongue with hers, wanting to taste as much of her as he could.

  “I’m pleased with you,” he said when he finally stepped back. “I think you’re going to work out well here. But…” He fingered the hem of her skirt. “This isn’t appropriate office wear. It’s distracting. I can’t imagine the men in the office get anything done with you walking around like this.”

  “I don’t understand the problem.” She pouted. “It covers the important bits. It’s entirely appropriate.”

  “Your definition of ‘appropriate’ is odd indeed.”

  “If men can’t pay attention to their work, that’s their problem, not mine.”

  He stared at her lips as she spoke, and then he dropped his eyes lower. To her breasts, then her ass… God, he wanted to focus on every bit of her at once. She was so damn alluring.

  “Well, Miss Branson, I think I better show you what happens to women who show too much skin around here.”

  He shoved her chest against the wall. She whimpered.

  “It’s your job,” he whispered in her ear, “to service me whenever I like. But there will be even more of it if you keep acting like this.” He jerked her wrists behind her back.

  “No,” she said.

  Jay froze.

  He’d expected her to say, “Yes, of course, Mr. Cheng.”

  He hadn’t expected any resistance.

  Emily looked back at him and winked. She knew exactly what she was doing. She was pushing him to take this even further than last time.

  And God help him, his cock hardened even more.

  It was wrong to take a woman without her consent, and he’d blamed his actions thus far on her choice of clothing.

  It was very, very wrong.

  Except it wasn’t real.

  She really did want this.

  And so did he.

  “Please don’t,” she cried. “I know it’s my job, but I’ve been here since eight in the morning. I’m tired. I want to go home.”