Hard For My Best Friend's Sister

by Ava Jackson

  Hard for My Best Friend’s Sister

  Ava Jackson

  Copyright 2015 Ava Jackson

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes only.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Cover Design by Sara Eirew

  About the Book

  The last time I saw her, she was asleep—and I'd just taken her virginity.

  She was my best friend's little sister. I'd broken the guy code, and the guilt had me running before she woke.

  Ten years later, she's a corporate bad ass negotiating across the table from me—and hotter than ever. I want my second chance, but she's all grown up and isn't about to hand it to me.

  This time, I've got a whole different game plan in mind.

  * * *

  The last time I saw him, he was balls deep inside me—and I'd just lost my virginity. When I woke up, he was gone.

  Ten years hasn't erased the sting of rejection. And now he wants his second chance?

  I swore I'd say no ... but then he made me an offer I couldn't refuse: when we're working, we're strangers, but at night? He'll make my every dirty fantasy come true.

  This time, I'm not going to be the one left wanting more.

  Chapter 1

  Dylan

  The hard push of his cock against me made me ache. I groaned, shifting my body closer to his in the narrow bed.

  “Are you sure about this princess?” Cameron looked down at me with a worried gaze.

  “I’m positive,” I breathed. I was nervous, but I’d never felt more sure about anything in my entire life. I was in love with him – Cameron Richmond, my older brother’s best friend, and my secret crush for as long as I could remember. I was giving him the best gift I could offer. My virginity. In the dewy summer air, my hair clung to my skin and I felt hot all over, but I doubted that was from the temperature.

  His deep blue eyes locked onto mine, he swallowed, and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “Tell me if it hurts, and I’ll stop.”

  I nodded tightly, vowing to obey. There was no way I’d want him to stop. This was all I’d dreamed about for years.

  I could see just enough of him with the moonlight filtering in through his bedroom window. He was perfect. Muscled where a man should be, and firm, yet gentle. He curled his fist around his thick cock, and stroked. Then he pressed his hips closer, aligning himself with my entrance and thrust, shattering through every barrier I had. I cried out – from pleasure – from pain – from the knowledge that the man I was deeply in love with was finally making me his. Pushing in slowly, he continued pressing into me until he was buried all the way, and I felt his balls press against my ass. My breathing hitched, then stopped. Holy shit.

  “Fuck, you’re tight. Princess, breathe for me, okay?”

  * * *

  Ten Years Later

  “I’m talented, I’m in control, and I’m not going to throw up.”

  I scowled at myself in the bathroom mirror. The blue tiles of the bathroom made my skin look pale and washed out. Or maybe that was just what I looked like when I was nervous.

  After sneaking into the office bathroom to touch up my makeup before the big meeting, I’d been thrilled to find out it was a private bathroom and had locked the door behind me. But now I was just standing there, trying to work up some courage. Gusto. Sass.

  I hated being in New York City instead of my home office of Dallas; I preferred playing on my own turf. Home field advantage, or whatever. But this bathroom was a nice perk. It made for an excellent hiding place. Not that I was hiding. I was fixing my make-up, that was all.

  My lip gloss was now pink and refreshed, my mascara was freshly blackened, and I was still standing in place trying to convince my feet to move.

  This meeting wouldn’t just be huge, it would be the defining moment of my career. If I nailed this meeting, I would be promoted. This one meeting could absolutely make me. Then again, there was always the option that it destroyed me instead.

  The problem was, I didn’t know which it was going to be yet and I hated not knowing. I liked to be in control of everything. My mom called me a control freak, and she wasn’t wrong. I liked my job of negotiating deals because it let me feel like I was in control of the situation. My goal in a meeting was to control the actions of the people on the other side of the table.

  Normally, I loved meetings. This one was stressing me out. Too much hinged on it. I’d put nearly a decade’s worth of work into this company. If this one meeting didn’t go right, all that time would be wasted.

  I needed my time to not have been wasted.

  My stomach twisted. Okay, new plan. If I could just convince myself this meeting wasn’t important after all, I wouldn’t blow it in a fit of nerves. I smiled at myself. My brown hair and eyes looked too dark in the mirror. If I were blond no one would have noticed how pale I was. While I was wishing for things, I might as well wish to be skinny instead of curvy so that no one would ever call me fat again.

  Someone knocked on the door.

  “Occupied,” I called. I was so glad the bathrooms in this office were private. I don’t know what I would have done if I were in Dallas with rows of bathroom stalls and no privacy. Someone might have caught me in here looking like a lunatic.

  I took a deep breath and let it back out. “This meeting doesn’t matter. It’s only the senior partners who care about the outcome, and what do they matter?”

  Dammit. I drummed my fingers on the white porcelain sink. Whoever designed this bathroom had terrible taste. I would have chosen a glass sink that would have drawn the eye and… I was rambling in my own thoughts.

  I wished there was a bathtub in here so I could sink into some bubbles and calm my thoughts. Not that I had time for a bath. I promised myself that I would take one after the meeting, no matter how it turned out.

  I checked my outfit one last time. The dark blue jacket was Armani and tailored to fit my curvy frame. Everyone looked good in Armani, right? I even thought I looked good in the jacket.

  The skirt, on the other hand, was a cheap knock off from a department store. The goal was for the jacket to distract so thoroughly that no one noticed how cheap the rest of the outfit was.

  I wasn’t convinced it was working. The stitching on the skirt looked cheap next to the jacket, not to mention the pinstripes on the skirt made my ass look huge. Well, huger than it already was.

  I cringed. I tried not to think about my weight most of the time. It was counterproductive to not getting stressed out. Besides, weight only mattered when there was someone to notice. It had been a while since anyone had noticed me for anything other than my brain.

  I hadn’t had much time for dating in years, and I didn’t have the kind of looks that made men throw themselves at me. Or maybe I just hadn’t seen any men worth catching.

  I’d risen hard and fast through the corporate ranks, and no one had ever accused me of sleeping my way up. I wasn’t bad looking, but I also wasn’t most men’s type. I was more likely to be called a bitch or a ball breaker than a sex kitten.

  I combed my fingers through my hair then turned away from the mirror. I needed to leave right now in order to be only slightly late, as planned. I’d learned that it was important to make sure other people were waiting on me, and not the other way around. I was never late enough to make anyone angry, but I was never early or on time. That would make me look eager. It would give the other person all the power. Being slightly late was my favo
rite way of emphasizing that the meeting wasn’t the most important thing in the world to me, even if it was.

  I finally convinced my feet to move and my heels clicked on the floor as I headed out of the bathroom and to the elevator. Most of the people who worked in this building had already left for the day around five o’clock, and it was now inching past six. Oh, the joys of ambition and working more hours than everyone else to prove how dedicated I was.

  I deserved this promotion. I worked hard to close this deal and when I reached that negotiating table I was going to have the other side begging to make a deal with me.

  The pep talk boosted my confidence a little, but I was still nervous. I ran over my prepared speech in my mind as I stepped out onto the eleventh floor where the conference rooms were. I’d gone over the entire floor plan of the building before I’d flown here. Now that I was here I had to admit it wasn’t that useful to know where all the janitor’s closest were, but I was glad I had no fear of getting lost in this huge building.

  We were meeting in room E, which was easily the nicest room on the floor. The room was marked on the map as “senior partners only,” but I was getting to use it for this meeting today, which showed how much trust they were putting in me. My belly fluttered with nerves.

  I paused for a moment with my hand on the door handle and drew in a breath. I was glad that the conference room walls were made out of nearly black tinted glass for privacy instead of the usual clear glass that was so common elsewhere. The conference floor was still well lit, but clients wanted to feel like their business was confidential so the management arranged to keep the place feeling as private as possible.

  I swung open the door and strode in with confidence I normally felt, but was actually lacking in at the moment. “Hello.” I flashed my photogenic smile. “I’m—”

  Then I saw him.

  Holy shit.

  How was this possible?

  There was no way in hell the world was this small.

  It defied probable odds.

  But there he sat, and I couldn’t argue with what was right in front of me.

  The lawyer representing the client with the very profitable business venture was none other than Cameron Richmond.

  The man who’d crushed my very young and very, very stupid heart. The man I’d skillfully—and successfully—avoided for ten years, despite how close our families were. You know what took serious effort? Avoiding your brother’s best friend like you might catch the bubonic plague. Or pneumonia. Take your pick. Herpes? Mesothelioma?

  Okay, now my brain just needed to shut the hell up. Focus, Dylan.

  A realization struck me: maybe I’d done too good of a job dodging all mention of him because I’d had no idea he was going to be here. Thanks, Mom, for not mentioning this little tidbit while you were talking my ear off in my cab ride this morning.

  Did he live in New York City? Shit, maybe I needed to pay more attention to Facebook.

  Cameron Richmond. He still looked hot enough to melt panties at twenty paces. His eyes were such a dark blue they almost looked black, but I’d spent enough time looking at those eyes to know the difference. He’d had the longer, frat boy haircut tamed down into a business cut that looked unfairly fucking sexy on him. It was cropped close, with just enough to grab onto. Not that I’d be doing any grabbing. Geez, what was wrong with me? Hell, he looked like he’d been poured into his navy blue suit that only accentuated his intense eyes. How was it fair that ten years had passed since I’d seen him, and he was somehow even more gorgeous?

  I wanted to melt into the floor. I wanted to scream. I wanted to stop thinking about how much it hurt that I never heard from again after our night together. Memories of that night flooded back with all the force and emotion as if it’d just happened last night. Except my cunt wasn’t sore from his fat cock, so that couldn’t be right. I remembered exactly how his dark stubble had felt scraping against my thighs. Speaking of which—this clean-cut business look of his could really do with some bad boy stubble. It would be a warning to the women who got near him, if nothing else. Stay back, heart crusher!

  Hell. I really hadn’t wanted to see Cam again. He’d done more than taken my virginity only to leave me the next morning. He’d shattered me, utterly. It had taken years to put myself back together after that night … and morning.

  I’d spent most of my childhood pining after him, and when he’d finally noticed me … and my every fantasy had been fulfilled, it had only lasted for exactly one life-changing and unforgettable night. Then nothing. Nada. Definitely no declaration of feelings. Not even a ‘see you later, babe.’ He just left.

  Bastard.

  I hated him. I’d spent ten years hating him. Sure, it was a long time to hold a grudge. Someone less stubborn would have let go of it by now. But someone less stubborn would never have slept with him in the first place, and someone less stubborn wouldn’t have fought her way up the corporate ladder only to be standing here now.

  My first urge was to turn on my heel and walk right back out the door, but I couldn’t do that. This meeting was important. So that meant I needed to deal with the situation at hand: namely, the fact that my mind had gone completely blank. I couldn’t remember a single thing I’d rehearsed. All I could think about was Cameron Richmond’s cock. My memories hadn’t faded at all in that department. He was long, and thick, and I remember how his right hand looked curled around his dick as he positioned himself at my entrance.

  He’d felt so good inside of me. I’d been sore afterward, but it had been a happy kind of sore until I’d realized he wasn’t coming back.

  “Dylan,” Cameron said with a slow, smug smile. Bastard.

  I recalled the sound of his deep, throaty voice saying my name the night we’d been tangled in the sheets and his hot, sweaty body had been pounding into me. Focus! “What?” I said.

  “Dylan Sofia Butler. It’s been a long time.”

  I wanted to slap his stupid face. But I was an adult now. I was successful. I didn’t need to physically assault him because I could show him how awesome I was and make him rue the day he ever treated me like a one night stand.

  I opened my mouth and couldn’t get any words out. The pads of Cameron’s fingers on my face. His hands in my hair, dragging me toward him. The rush of endorphins in my system when his tongue met mine for the first time.

  “Sit down, Dylan. Or do you go by Sofia now?”

  “I don’t know.” Fuck. Had I really just said that? “Dylan. I still go by Dylan.” I think my mom had always hoped I’d go by Sofia, but I liked Dylan. It meant most people couldn’t tell what gender I was from my name alone, and I’d found that to be helpful in business.

  I needed to get my head out of my ass and cram my libido into a nice cement box. The fact that the other negotiator was Cameron didn’t change anything. I was still here to win.

  All I had to do was stop thinking about having sex with him.

  No problem.

  Chapter 2

  Cameron

  I wanted her from the moment she walked into the room, but that was no surprise. I always wanted her. Her soft feminine scent hung in the air all around her, and those wideset gorgeous eyes darted around the room – looking anywhere but at me.

  She looked sexy in her business suit. The jacket was hugging her curves in all the right places, but it would have been nice if she’d worn a skirt that was more revealing instead of one that hung off her like a sack. I really had to convince her to upgrade her wardrobe.

  Not that I was here to interfere in her life, and I definitely wasn’t here to fuck her … (though I wouldn’t say no to it). I needed to make things right between us.

  Ten years.

  Ten years of silence and avoidance.

  It’d been too long, and it was time to put an end to it.

  Yes, I’d acted like a jackass, and she’d probably been well within her rights not to let me get close enough again to apologize. For ten years, she’d fled the second she saw me. I
hadn’t even been able to get in the same room as her in all that time. I’d tried passing vague apologies along through her brother, but she’d turned them all away. I’d been desperate to see her again, to talk to her, to make amends. Guilt was a brutal bitch. The memory of her wide eyes on mine, the pinched look of pain on her face as I pushed my cock inside, past every barrier she had … well, let’s just say most of my memories of us are equal parts erotic and guilt-laden.

  Now that she was finally three feet away, I didn’t know where to begin. I’d pushed hard to get on this deal as soon as I’d seen her name on the list as representing the company looking to buy a share in George’s venture.

  Who was I kidding? I’d been following every step of her career through information picked up from her family. I’d become a real stealth fact gatherer, trying to find things out without letting anyone know I was dying for more information. Her family knew the two of us had gotten in a fight and she was avoiding me, but they’d never found out the cause. That was a conversation I had no intention of having.

  Her brother would kill me if he knew I’d slept with his little sister.

  From the limited bits I’d been able to glean, I’d learned what company she was working for, but I hadn’t known she would be the one assigned to this deal before I’d seen the contact list, though. Butler, D. Printed in the same bold black font as everything else as if it wasn’t the most vitally important information on the chart.

  I needed her to forgive me. I had no idea what to say to make that happen. I really should’ve figured this out ahead of time. But I was at my best when I was thinking on my feet. I’d figure it out. This gulf between us wouldn’t be allowed to stand.

  Dylan took her seat across from me and tossed her briefcase onto the table with a solid thump. “Our offer is for a controlling stake. No less than fifty-one percent. I think you’ll find the numbers satisfactory.” She pulled a page out of her briefcase and slid it over to me.