by Jenika Snow
I couldn’t help but feel even more warmth—which had nothing to do with the alcohol—fill me at hearing Brendan say that.
His girl.
No, I am not his girl. I never will be. I can’t cross that line. I won’t.
I cleared my throat; that last shot seeming to rush through my bloodstream pretty damn fast. The room tilted a little, and I started giggling like a schoolgirl.
Brendan grinned, a flash of straight, white teeth. “How about some poker?” He lifted his eyebrow, as if in a challenge.
“I haven’t played poker since…” I stopped, remembering when we used to live together. Brendan had been a cocky little asshole to a lot of people when he was younger, but never with me.
“Since back when we were living under the same roof?”
I nodded and ran my sweaty palms over my jeans.
“You taught me how to play poker,” I said softly, doubting he’d remember that one and only time we’d played. “But I doubt you remember—”
“I remember a lot, Meghan.”
His words stopped my heart for a second, and I swallowed the lump that suddenly formed in my throat. That whiskey bottle was looking pretty damn appealing right now, at least to give me something to do so I wasn’t sitting here staring at Brendan.
“Well, seeing as you’ll be living under the same roof with me again, no time like the present to rekindle that moment, yeah?”
I didn’t answer right away, because the look on his face told me Brendan didn’t just have a friendly game of cards on his mind.
Brendan
I’d be lying if I said playing cards was all I wanted to do tonight. Of course, I wanted Meghan, but she didn’t know that. She was drunk, as was I, and she was having a hard time right now. I would not take advantage of her, and if she wanted to say fuck off, I’d respect that one hundred percent.
Strip poker might not have been the best route to go after the day she’d had, but I wouldn’t let it get that far anyway.
“How about a game of strip poker?”
I lifted my brow, my shock filling me.
And she surprised the hell out of me.
“Oh, please. You know that’s what you were about to ask.”
I chuckled. “Am I that transparent?”
She shrugged and laughed softly. “I think it’ll be fun. I mean, yeah, I think it would be fun.” I saw her cheeks turn pink, and that piqued my interest.
“We don’t have to. I mean I was going to throw that idea out there, but hell, I got some JENGA in the closet, I think.” She laughed loud, and I grinned.
“No. I mean I think talking with you, and I think a friendly game of poker—” She looked at me then. “—would certainly get my mood in a better place.”
I lifted my brow. “Are you hustling me?” I was half joking.
“Heck, I think a game of strip poker will help the situation.”
“Well, hell.” I leaned back, hearing my words slur slightly. I drank when I went out, but I didn’t get sloppy. But here I was, getting all stupid drunk and trying to make a situation better, even if this wasn’t the best way I could have gone about it.
I was selfish when it came to Meghan.
I kept my distance when we lived under the same roof, when she was considered my stepsister.
I could be cocky.
I could be intense.
But I’ve always wanted Meghan, and now was my time to show her we’d be good together, that we belonged together.
But the gentlemanly thing would be for me to shut down my own thoughts and tell her no.
“Meghan, as much as I think that sounds pretty fucking fantastic, we’re both pretty wasted—”
“I’m not that drunk to not know what I’m doing. Unless you’re scared I’ll win?” Her eyes were glossy, her lips red. God, I wanted to kiss her, just say fuck all the self-control and restraint I’d had for all these years and go after what I wanted … her.
I grinned, and my cock jerked at the sight of her. She was gorgeous in every sense of the word, pure in appearance, but I knew she had a wicked dirty sense of humor. She had a tongue on her that could give a lashing. Hell, she’d ripped into me more than once when our parents were married and we lived together.
What she didn’t know was her attitude turned me the fuck on.
I reached for the whiskey and took a swig right from the bottle. I handed it to her, and she eyed it for a second before she took the bottle and drank from it as well. She exhaled and ran her tongue along her bottom lip.
I nearly groaned at the sight; instead, I curled my nails into my palms until the pain shot up my arms.
“Well, you’re the boss,” I said and grinned.
“Although getting partially naked in front of my stepbrother probably isn’t the smartest thing I’ve ever done.”
“We aren’t related in any capacity, Meghan,” I said, my voice thick, which had nothing to do with the fact I was drunk. Hell, even if our folks were still married, I would have gone after her, step-sibling or not. I’d thought about her this entire time and wanted to do something about what I felt toward her, but I’d always held back because I thought that was for the best. “Besides, I sure as fuck don’t see you as a sister in any way.”
God, please don’t say you see me as a brother figure.
I didn’t want to hear that.
She laughed softly, and I couldn’t help but stare at her. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes glossy. She was good and toasted, and I was glad she was feeling better, even if it was the artificial kind because of the liquor we’d been drinking. I didn’t want to see her upset, and if there were something I could do to make her smile, I would do it.
“I don’t see you as family.” Her eyes widened, and she stared at me. “Not that I don’t care for you, well, what I mean is I don’t see you as a brother.” She exhaled and closed her eyes. “God, I’m hoping you know what I mean.”
I started laughing, loving this uneasiness from her because she was nervous and tripping over her tongue.
“Yeah, I know what you mean.”
She opened her eyes and smiled, and my cock jerked, the sight of her making all common sense leave me.
But fuck, I was taking this as a sign from the heavens or fate; whatever the hell it was, it was giving me this opportunity, and I would show Meghan we belonged together.
“Let’s get the poker on then.”
3
Meghan
I had done it, just said fuck it all and agreed to get naked—semi-naked at least—in front of Brendan. The truth was I was drunk, and I knew he was too, but I was with it enough to know what was going on.
Maybe this wasn’t the wisest thing to do, but it felt good to just let go and say screw all the bad shit.
The air seemed even more chilled than it probably was, but then again I was sitting here in my bra and panties. Although I rationalized this was like a bikini, something Brendan had seen me in before.
Bikini, my ass. This is more intimate, and my damn nipples are hard enough I know he can see them through the thin cotton material.
Despite the fact I’d obviously had no clue this was how the night would progress, I cursed myself for not wearing something sexier.
It’s Brendan. He doesn’t see me that way.
“Well, let’s see what you have, Meghan.”
For a second, all I could think about was him meaning what I had beneath my undergarments, but I snapped out of that real quick and looked down at my cards. I was shit at playing poker, and I knew by the arrogant smirk on his face, Brendan had a good hand.
But even if I sucked, I was holding two aces, and I knew that was better than nothing.
At least I hoped it beat whatever Brendan was holding.
As it was, he was still fully dressed.
I laid my cards down and looked at him, feeling pretty damn nervous. I was drunk, and I knew he was too, but even so, the very thought of taking off one more piece of clothing, one more that would show either
my tits or lower, scared the shit out of me.
This was Brendan, the man I secretly loved.
He leaned forward and squinted down at my cards. After a second, he looked up at me, leaned back in his chair, and lifted the bottle of liquor we’d been sipping on to his mouth for a drink. And when he set the bottle down, he shook his head.
“Fuck.”
I felt my grin grow. I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms, but when I saw Brendan lower his gaze to my breasts, which were now pretty popped out, I felt self-conscious. I unfurled my arms and sat up straighter. “Let’s see them,” I said and nodded toward the cards. He’d put his shirt on shortly after I arrived, much to my disappointment, but now it was my turn to see some flesh.
He tossed his cards down, and I saw he had a pair of twos. I felt my skin grow warm.
“Take it off.” I gestured to his shirt. I felt my face heat, and Brendan lifted his eyebrow, looking sexy as hell.
“You cheated,” he said, but I could hear the teasing note in his voice.
“Strip,” I said, making myself sound more determined. He grinned, and that sight had my body tingling all over the place.
He only waited a second before he grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled it up and over his head. He set it on the table and pushed it over to me. “You want to keep it like a trophy for beating me at this hand?”
I chuckled, although deep down I was thinking that would be pretty damn sexy.
He leaned forward and braced his forearms on the table, causing his muscles to flex and bunch under his golden skin. He then took the cards, shuffled them, and we started another round.
I felt my pulse start to increase, because I knew if I lost this hand, I had to get rid of something pretty vital. I looked at my cards, got rid of three, selected three new ones, and although I felt pretty good at the hand I now had, I kept my poker face in place.
“Call,” Brendan said, and I looked up at him.
Setting my cards down, I showed him my three of a kind. It was only fours, and I knew he could easily beat that if he had a good hand. I tried gauging his expression, but he kept it in place. “Well?” I lifted a brow, hoping to appear more confident than I really was. The fact was I was pretty drunk, and although I only had my bra and panties on, I was really hot. Beads of sweat were lining the length of my spine, my palms, and I even felt it between my breasts.
“Motherfucker,” Brendan said in a teasing voice, although there was a hint of annoyance in his voice. He tossed his cards down, and I saw he had nothing. The smile widened over my face. “You’re definitely cheating. Two hands in a row?” Before I could respond, he stood and went for the button of his jeans. As he undid it, and pulled the zipper down, that V of muscle that disappeared down the denim became more pronounced, as did the trail of dark hair that started right below his navel.
It was then that I realized he wasn’t wearing any underwear. I felt my eyes widen as the two sides of his jeans opened all the way. Yeah, he was totally going commando under those pants.
I looked up at him, knowing my eyes probably looked like saucers, but unable to school my features. I noticed several things right away: he was breathing harder, his gaze was lowered to my chest, and his body seemed strung tight.
He also was sporting a growing erection.
“U-um,” I managed to stutter out, not sure what to say. Yeah, I knew this was strip poker when we started playing it, but good God, I guess I hadn’t really been prepared for it.
“This is the game, yeah?” Brendan finally said, but his voice seemed tight, like maybe he was either uncomfortable or … holding onto his control with a short leash. I should have nodded, or maybe said something, but I was frozen, my throat tight and my voice nonexistent.
Right when I thought he’d push the pants down and reveal the monster growing between his legs, there were three loud pounds on the front door. My heart seized a second, and I found myself looking in that direction. When neither of us moved, the pounding started again.
“Fuck,” Brendan said and buttoned his pants up. He picked up his shirt and tossed it to me. “Put that on. I don’t want whoever it is seeing you like that.”
This flutter of pleasure washed through me at the fact he was looking out for me. I slipped the shirt on despite the fact my clothes were an arm’s reach away. The material smelled like Brendan: dark, spicy, all man.
I heard Brendan open the front door and then heard a male voice. Whoever spoke sounded mad.
“Dude, she totally fucked me over,” the guy said.
“Man, I’m sorry,” Brendan replied.
I got up, walked over to the kitchen entrance, and leaned around the corner to see Brendan and whom I assumed was his friend, standing by the front door.
“I just left after I beat the shit out of the little fucker I caught her with and didn’t know where to go.” Then his friend looked my way. “Oh, shit. I didn’t know you had company.” The guy rubbed his hand over his head.
“I’ll be in my room and give you guys privacy.” I looked at Brendan. He mouthed, “I’m sorry” and “Thank you.” I smiled and nodded, knowing his friend needed him right now. As I headed to my room, I overheard his friend say, “Her room?”
Before I went into the bedroom, I turned and saw Brendan looking at me, this expression on his face that seemed intense, yet loving. God, if only that love was on a different level … like the level mine was on.
Brendan
Several days later
I hadn’t been able to get the image of Meghan in only her bra and panties out of my mind. I had these really filthy fucking thoughts about telling her to get out of that innocent looking underwear, and how she’d tell me to fuck off, showing me that fire I knew she had. I got turned on when she gave as good as she got, how she didn’t put up with any bullshit. She wasn’t in the best mood because of the issues with getting kicked out of her apartment, but it seemed like she was starting to feel better.
Hell, I was watching her enough, thinking of all the things I wanted to do to her, and imaging me actually being a real man and telling her I loved her.
I looked over my shoulder and stared at her as she cooked dinner. Hell, I wanted to go in there and help her, not only because I didn’t want her doing all this shit alone, but because I wanted to be near her. She looked good, though, sexy, with her hair piled high on her head and the shirt she wore too big and hanging off one shoulder.
“You need any help?” I called out.
“I’m good,” she replied, but I was off the couch and heading into the kitchen anyway.
I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms over my chest. She bent over to grab something out of the oven, and my fucking cock jerked to attention as the pants she wore molded to her ass to perfection.
Fucking. Hell.
“Shit,” she said on a gasp, and I was by her a second later.
“What happened?” I asked, seeing her cradle her hand.
“I just burned myself.”
I grabbed her wrist and gently pulled her over to the sink. Holding her hand under the running cold water, I looked at her. She was already staring at me, and I felt this zap of electricity move through my body from where I touched her and how we stared at each other.
“It was quick. I think it’ll be okay,” she said, and I pulled her hand from the water. Looking at it, I wanted to make her feel better. It was a strong feeling in me, one that wanted to keep her safe, even from herself.
“I should have some burn cream in the first aid kit.” I didn’t wait for her to say anything before I turned to grab the cream.
“Thank you,” she said after I came back and applied the cream. But I didn’t let go of her hand once it was all said and done. “Thank you,” she whispered this time, but I sensed this heat coming from her, this emotion that I wanted so badly to claim as mine.
But I forced myself to let go.
Just tell her how you feel. Tell her how much you love her. But as I opened my mouth, f
eeling like I could finally do this right here and now, her cell went off.
Fuck, I swore it was either the phones or someone coming to my house that broke up whatever moment we were having.
At least, I thought it was a moment. Hell, maybe all of this was in my head? Maybe she was thinking I was crossing a line, but didn’t know how to tell me?
And maybe you’ll never find out unless you grow a set and just come clean.
4
Meghan
“You’re good?”
I looked at Brendan. “Sure. I can handle cleanup,” I said and chuckled.
He gave me this half smile that set my blood on fire.
His cell went off, and he pulled it out of his pocket to look at it. A sigh left him second later.
“Everything okay?”
He nodded and pocketed his phone. “Yeah. It’s just Hunter wanting to go out and drink. I’m not down with that.” He grinned again as he looked at me, and I felt this electricity slam into me. “I was thinking you and I could raid Netflix and find something to watch.”
My heart did this little flutter at the suggestion. “Yeah, okay.” I hated that I sounded so breathy.
“I’m just going to go take a quick shower. I smell like work.”
I laughed and nodded.
I shouldn’t have let my thoughts control me, but trying not to think about Brendan while living under the same roof with him was impossible. And, honestly? A part of me didn’t want to push those thoughts aside.
Being his roommate wasn’t like I’d thought it would be. During the short time I’d been here, he was respectful, sweet, and although I knew he’d always been like that, I thought maybe he would be different because I was intruding on his space and time.
I put the last plate in the dishwasher, popped in one of those cleaning packs, and closed the door. True to my word, and because this was the least I could do, I’d just cooked us a meal and was cleaning up. I tried to be as domestic as I could between work and going to school, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I liked doing this. It seemed weirdly intimate, like we were a team, a partnership.