Brother’s Best Friend

by Kaylee, Katy

  “I want to watch you come, Sofia.” I squeezed her hands tighter, needing to feel closer to her.

  “Oh, Jake…” Her head tilted back and her body tensed. Her pussy gripped my penis tight, and I had to grit my teeth to keep from coming. Her mouth formed a perfect O as her hips moved with mine, her pussy massaging my dick as her orgasm moved through her. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever felt.

  “Come in me, Jake. I want to feel you come.”

  Letting go of control, I let my body do what it wanted, what it needed. I moved in deep, quick strokes, feeling my need coil tighter and tighter with each thrust. She gasped and her pussy tightened on my dick again. I let go. I let her carry me up and over into blissful oblivion.

  When my breath slowed, I rolled to my side, pulling her tight against me. I’d just had the most intense experience in my life and now it was over. My bliss was now grief that this amazing woman would soon be gone.

  21

  Sofia

  Was it hormones or love that had me feeling so off-kilter? Or was it because my time had run out? The bakery would be opening in a week, but our agreement had come to an end. This was the day we’d chosen to part ways, at least physically. The annulment or divorce was still to come. He never said anything about it and neither did I.

  I’d already moved my kitchen supplies to the bakery and my studio. Now I was packing my clothes and other personal items, wishing I had the guts to ask if I could stay.

  I wished I knew how he felt, except I was certain I did. He hadn’t changed his mind about commitment or made any suggestion that we extend our agreement. That was the answer. He didn’t feel any different for me because he would have said or done something if he did.

  My mind went back to last week when he gave me a massage. It was so sweet of him, and I wasn’t lying that it turned me on. My sex drive with him was always on go, but lately, it was on high speed. I guessed it was a side-effect of pregnancy.

  I was ready for a fast and furious romp because I needed to come, but he’d switched gears. His touch and his kisses were so soft and sweet. For the first time, I felt like he was making love to me. It had nearly brought tears to my eyes. I wanted desperately that this change in him, this way he was touching me meant that he loved me, but he never said the words. Then again, neither did I.

  I did nearly tell him about the baby, but again, my ego, my need for him to ask me to stay because he wanted me, not because he felt an obligation to me and the baby, silenced me. And look where my silence was getting me. I was packing my bag to move to my studio apartment.

  “You about ready?” Jake leaned against the doorframe of my bedroom.

  I inhaled a deep breath and hoped my tears didn’t fall as I turned to him and gave him a big smile. “Just about.”

  He studied me for a moment and inhaled a breath like he was going to say something. Then he gave his head a quick shake. “The guys have taken the rest of your stuff over already. It’s just you and your bags in here.”

  I nodded, wondering how much more my heart could break. He wasn’t going to ask me to stay. That meant I should tell him about the baby now, but I couldn’t form the words. I needed to get to my own place, get my life re-settled, my bearings straight. Once I felt emotionally more together, then I’d tell him.

  Instead of taking his own car and having to fuss with parking, he ordered an SUV to take us and my bags over to my studio. I had my day all planned out. I’d say goodbye to Jake, unpack, call my family and let them know where I was and about my new bakery, and then cry myself to sleep. The only thing I had to look forward to, and I did, was getting up at 4 a.m. and going down to my bakery to start baking. I wanted to get into the routine of my new schedule even though we didn’t open for another week.

  Jake carried my bags up to the studio. He’d arranged to have it painted, which I tried to fight him on. I was sure that paint fumes weren’t good for babies. But the smell of the paint had subsided, and I appreciated how much brighter the place looked.

  Since I’d saved so much money from my hotel job living with Jake, I’d had enough to make it into a nice little space. I had a sturdy custom screen made to block off my double bed from the rest of the living space. On the other side of the screen I had a little office space where I put a desk. A tiny kitchen was in its own alcove next to the even smaller bathroom. The rest was open and I had a couch, a pretty wingback chair and coffee table. I was also able to fit in a little dining table.

  “I didn’t think five-hundred square feet could hold so much,” Jake said as he looked over the studio.

  “It’s like a puzzle. You just need to know how to best fit the pieces together.” I put my bags on my bed.

  Jake hired a few men to bring over my remaining boxes, which weren’t many. Since most were baking items, I had them put them in the bakery kitchen.

  Jake stood in the middle of the studio. “So, how does it feel to taste your dream coming true?”

  Like vinegar, I thought. “It’s amazing.” When this marriage started, I needed a place to live and wanted a bakery, and Jake delivered both. I tried to amp up the wattage of my smile so he didn’t think I was ungrateful.

  He looked around again and then sat on the couch. It surprised me as I thought he’d be eager to go home and have his place to himself again.

  “I can make you coffee and give you a treat.” I looked into the little kitchen to make sure my coffeemaker was there. I’d brought it over earlier when I’d been working the studio. I’d been bummed to have to switch to decaf but once the headaches stopped, it wasn’t so bad.

  “I’m your first guest,” he said, grinning up at me.

  I wanted to pounce on him and kiss him and then beg him to take me back to his place. “Give me a minute.”

  “How’s the marketing going?” he asked from the living area.

  “I feel like it’s going well. I’ve done a lot of Instagram photos and stories with the progress of the bakery and pictures of the baked goods we’ll be selling. I’ve arranged for some food bloggers to come by. And I have one of my staff who will spend a few days starting at our opening going around to local areas and the park with samples and a flyer. That’s just a few of the things we’re doing.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got it under control. Once people taste your food, they’ll tell others.”

  “I hope so.” I finished putting water and coffee in the pot and pushed the brew button. “Do you want cookies?”

  “Whatever you have is fine.”

  I pulled out my tin of oatmeal cookies. Very traditional, but still very yummy. I put them on a plate. When the coffee was done, I poured Jake a cup and brought out the cookies setting them on the coffee table.

  I wondered if I should tell him the coffee was decaf. Not wanting to come up with some excuse for switching, I decided to keep it to myself.

  He took a bite of the cookie, and as always, he closed his eyes and savored. “Yep, Sof. If you can get people here, you’ll be a hit.”

  I grinned as I sat in my wingback chair. “From your mouth to God’s ears.”

  We sat in silence for a moment. Should I ask about the annulment or how he plans to tell people at his work about our break-up? I didn’t trust myself not to cry, so I didn’t say anything.

  Finally, he asked, “Have you told your family?”

  I shook my head. “Not yet. They still think I’m at the other place.” I laughed. “Thank God Tony didn’t come looking for me.”

  Jake agreed. “If he knew, he’d kick my ass.”

  “You’re bigger than him.”

  Jake picked up his coffee and sat back on the couch. “Never underestimate the power of a big brother.”

  “Do you think if Vera had a brother, he’d kick Tony’s ass?”

  Jake’s face turned sad. “I’d hope so. But you know, some families don’t seem to care very much about infidelity.”

  I figured he was thinking about his own parents and how his mother seemed to have accepted his f
ather’s cheating.

  “But their sisters and daughters, that’s a different thing.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m a grown woman who can make my own decisions.”

  “Not in their eyes.”

  He was right. “I can’t believe how we were able to keep all this a secret.”

  “And no one will ever know.”

  Again, my heart split into even more pieces. It would be like Jake and I never happened. After today, we wouldn’t be together. We wouldn’t ever talk about our time together. When we were home at the same time, we’d be friends like we’d been before, but that was it. Hell, that was how we were going to be now.

  What was he going to do when I told him about the baby? I knew he’d step up, but would he be angry? Would he think I lied to him about the birth control? Would he be happy?

  “Will you forget about me, Sofia?”

  His question jerked me from my thoughts. “What? No. Never.”

  He laughed. “Yes, you will. You’ll be too busy baking up profits to think about me.”

  “That’s not true. Besides, you’ll be a regular customer, won’t you?”

  He nodded, but it seemed non-committal. I realized that after today, he planned to stay away. He’d be focused on his work, probably boosting the number of hours he worked each day.

  “What will be your next goal?” he asked me.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I need to get this one mastered first. What about you?”

  He turned his head to look out the window. It almost appeared as if he didn’t have an answer. Finally, he said, “I have my list of dream clients. I’ll work to get them.”

  “And you will. You have your partnership and you’re very persuasive. If someone told me that someday I’d marry Jake Dunne to get a bakery, I’d have laughed in their face. And look, you talked me into it.”

  He laughed, but there was a sadness to it. Why? Did he regret this? Was he thinking the partnership wasn’t worth the money he was investing in me?

  “Jake?”

  “Hmm?” He took the last bite of his cookie.

  “I can pay you back.”

  “What?” His brows furrowed.

  “The money for all this. I know it was part of our deal, but I can work toward paying you back. You can use it for something for yourself.”

  There was a flash of annoyance on his face. The man was an enigma when it came to reading him. “What else would I need, Sof?”

  “I don’t know. You could invest it. Get a new place—”

  “You don’t like my place?”

  “I love your place. I just don’t feel the deal was fair. To you.”

  He inhaled a breath and stood, going to stand by the window. “I got what I wanted.” I thought I heard him say, “and then some,” but I couldn’t be sure.

  “Just know that I can repay you. It will take time, but I can.”

  “I don’t want repayment, Sof.” His shoulders sagged.

  I had the urge to ask him what he did want, except I’d be disappointed when he didn’t say he wanted me.

  Finally, he turned. “I was going to offer to help you unpack, but there doesn’t seem to be much to unpack.”

  “I don’t have a lot of stuff.” This was his chance to leave. Except I didn’t want him to leave. “I was planning on baking. Want to help me in the fancy kitchen you got me?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. I’d like to see you bake.”

  “You have seen me bake.” I nearly offered to make frosting for him, but then remembered we were transitioning back to just friends.

  “Not in that fancy kitchen of yours.”

  “Well then, let’s go downstairs.” I locked up my studio and we headed down to the bakery. I let us in and relocked the door, leading Jake to the kitchen. “What do you want?”

  He shrugged. “What do you need to make?”

  “I haven’t checked my Internet orders yet. What’s your favorite?”

  A blush came to his cheeks and I wondered if he was thinking of frosting too. “I like everything you make, Sofia.”

  “How about we make croissants?” Of course, I’d pick a pastry that took a long time to make. After each lamentation, the dough had to rest. I figured with three rest times, we’d be here all day.

  “I love croissants.”

  I smiled and swallowed down the wish that he’d said, “I love you.”

  22

  Jake

  I couldn’t leave. I’d intended to move her to her place and then leave so that she could settle in and start living her dream. But fuck me, I couldn’t make my feet leave. Instead, I’d sat on the couch and let her serve me coffee and cookies when I was sure she had better things to do.

  I wasn’t sure if she was trying to get rid of me when she suggested we bake, but like a socially inept oaf, I didn’t leave. Instead, I spent the next hours making croissants.

  Not that I didn’t enjoy myself. First, I was always amazed at Sofia’s baking. And who knew croissants were so time-consuming? When she laid sheets of butter on her dough and started folding, she explained something about lamentation. Then the dough had to sit, during which time she showed me her equipment or we talked about nothing in particular. The folding and sitting happened several times, which allowed me to stay for hours.

  When those croissants came out of the oven, they were perfect. Just like her. She inhaled their fresh baked scent and smiled, and in that moment, there was no doubt; I was one-hundred percent in love with her. I didn’t know how it happened or when, but it was certain. And there was nothing I could do about it.

  It wasn’t until she’d yawned that I realized I’d significantly overstayed my welcome. It was time to go. I have done many difficult things in my life, but saying goodbye to her, to the faux life we’d had over the last six months topped the list as the most challenging.

  Unable to stop myself, I pulled her into my arms. “Thank you, Sofia, for taking on this crazy idea.”

  Her head settled against my chest over my heart. I wished I could tell her that it was beating for her.

  “Thank you, Jake. This is amazing.”

  She sniffed and I looked down and saw a tear.

  “You okay, honey?” Was she sad about our parting?

  “Yes. Just overwhelmed by it all. And a little sad.”

  “Oh?” Maybe this was it. Perhaps it was time to tell her I loved her and wanted her to come home with me. She could still have her bakery. I wouldn’t get in the way of that.

  “The last six months have been so fun.”

  Fun. Not what I wanted to hear, but it was a start.

  “Now I’m on to something completely new and different.”

  My heart split in two. But I managed a smile. “You’ll be great. I’m so proud of you.” Maybe I wasn’t going to have her in my life, but by fuck, I’d have one more taste. I lowered my head and pressed my lips to hers for one last kiss. She didn’t protest or pull away. She sank into it, and so I drank my fill of her sweet taste until I couldn’t breathe.

  Finally, I pulled back. “Chase the dream, Sofia.”

  “I will.”

  I turned away. “Oh Jake, I almost forgot.” She came toward me at the door and handed me my grandmother’s ring. “I won’t need this anymore.”

  I looked at the ring sitting in my palm. I closed my fingers around it. Then I removed the ring she’d forced me to wear. I felt naked without it. Even without divorce papers, losing the rings was like we were now unattached.

  “I’ll see you on opening day.”

  She smiled. “You better. This is your success too.”

  With one last look in her beautiful dark eyes, I walked out the door of her bakery. Every step I took away from her, I swore my heart broke a little more. I was going to fucking die, and all because I was too much of a coward to tell her how I felt.

  I walked and walked mindlessly, not ready to grab a cab home. I wasn’t sure why. No amount of walking or thinking was going to fix the pain in my chest. Fina
lly, I signaled a cab and had him take me home where I poured a glass of vodka, this time foregoing the tonic, thinking maybe that would dull the pain.

  After two glasses, I felt the fuzzy head that came from drinking, but my fucking heart still felt like there was a knife in it.

  I went over to the window to look out over the park. When I started this ruse, I figured I’d have the annulment or divorce papers drawn up and ready for her to sign the minute I left her at her place. The reality turned out different. I hadn’t even thought of them. I certainly had no intention of drawing them up. She hadn’t asked about them, so I’d just let it ride. Maybe she’d change her mind and want to come back. Or maybe I’d grow a pair of balls and tell her to come back.

  Or maybe, with a little time, my heart would get its shit together and remember that love sucks and relationships only end badly. After all, Sofia and I had a fake marriage and my heart felt like mincemeat. Imagine what would happen if I went all in with her and it ended.

  No. I shook my head. This was better. Eventually, I’d get over her.

  By the time I went to bed, I was well and truly drunk but still felt like shit. The next morning, she wasn’t in my bed, and yet I could smell her sweet scent. She wasn’t in the kitchen baking up some lovely morning pastry.

  “Fuck it.” I headed to the shower, cleaned up as well as my throbbing head would let me, threw on a pair of khaki pants and a shirt and headed to the office. Before Sofia, it wasn’t unusual for me to work on a Sunday, and right now, working seemed like the best way to distract myself from missing her.

  I’d put in a solid hour of work when there was a knock on my door, and Val peeked in. “Oh Jake, what a disappointment. You went through with it and ended it with Sofia.”

  “I’m not in the mood now, Val.” I closed the file I was working on and pulled out another.

  “If ending this deal with Sofia has you so unhappy, maybe you shouldn’t end it.”

  “I’m not unhappy because of Sofia.” Okay, so that was a lie. “I’m unhappy with you continuously harping on me about it.”