by Sarah Bailey
“I trusted him. He made me feel safe to tell him everything,” I sobbed. “To let go of my burdens. And then I find out he’s been with her. My twin. I feel like they stole each other from me. I need both of them and they betrayed me.”
He stroked my back in a soothing motion.
“You can’t control who you fall in love with,” he said, his voice low and full of regret.
It made me wonder why he sounded like that. Who had Brent fallen in love with that he shouldn’t have? Why did I even want to know? I’d never wanted to know anything about this man before, so why start now? I told myself I didn’t care and whatever happened to him didn’t matter.
Except it does matter. It matters a great deal.
Shut the fuck up, brain!
“I know,” I whispered.
I didn’t blame Fi or Doctor Andrews for falling in love with each other. Fi was my sister so I could see why any man would be lucky to have her. She was strong, resolute and had always been there for me. But why did it have to be the one person I’d trusted with my burdens? Why did it have to be him?
“It’s okay to be upset about it. They were all just trying to protect you.”
Out of all of us, I swear they babied me the most rather than James. I might give my brothers shit, but when it came to keeping me safe, those boys and Fi were like mother hens.
“I don’t need protecting.”
“Oh trust me, I know you don’t.” Well, of course, he’d know that. I’d told him more than once I could handle myself. “Are you telling me you’d have been okay with it if Fi told you straight away?”
I thought about it for a moment.
“No… I suppose not.”
I would’ve been mad and probably not continued therapy. Then I wouldn’t have been diagnosed and treated for PTSD. I would still be having nightmares at least twice a week and scaring the shit out of Fi every time I woke up screaming. I’d still live in fear that my brothers would be ripped away from me. In that respect, I was grateful Fi had kept the truth from me. Didn’t mean I had to be okay about her lying to me. Didn’t mean I had to be okay with their relationship because I wasn’t.
“People do stupid shit out of love all the time. Life is messy. All you need to remember is your sister loves you, but she also wants to be happy. And I think you’ll agree she deserves that. You both do really.”
Brent knew what happened to Fi and me. Dante told him so he’d understand the need to be cautious with us. When he’d first arrived, Fi and I had still been mute. He happened to be one of the first people I’d spoken to and it was only because he’d been annoying me. I’d told him to fuck off and leave us alone. I guess you could say we’d gotten off on the wrong foot and things hadn’t really changed since then.
I pulled back slightly and looked up at him. His gold flecked hazel eyes didn’t betray his feelings at that moment.
“Do you really think that?”
“What? That you deserve to be happy? Yeah… I do.”
“Even though you hate me.”
His lips quirked up at the side. My eyes fell on them.
“I might have thought you were a brat when you were a teenager, but I’ve never hated you.”
I couldn’t stop staring at his mouth. I had no idea why. It was the first time I’d really spoken to him without thinly veiled animosity pulsing between us. Now, something entirely different seemed to be happening here.
“Do you still think I’m a brat?”
I think he noticed where my attention was because he shifted slightly, his arms tensing around me.
“No.”
“Then what do you think of me?”
A loaded question if ever there was one. And I really had no idea why I’d asked it. I told myself over and over again I didn’t care what Brent thought about me.
Liar, liar, pants on fire.
“I think you’ve been through a lot of shit in your life and a lesser person would’ve crumbled, but you came out fighting. You’re a firestorm. Raging through the world and leaving ashes and dust in your wake.”
I wasn’t quite sure if I should take that as a compliment or an insult.
“I admire your tenacity even though you continuously call me a dickhead without any real reason.”
“You admire something about me?”
My attention shifted to his body next to mine. How well built he was. How his hold was gentle yet firm. And how I really, really couldn’t stop staring at his mouth. I’d always been irritated by how handsome Brent was since I didn’t like to think of him as anything other than an arrogant prick. Now, my heart raced and I was wondering what he’d do if I closed the distance between us.
“That’s what you’re focusing on? Well okay, then yes, I do, but don’t let it go to your head.”
“I won’t,” I whispered as I moved my hand from his back and rested it on his shoulder, my thumb brushing over the base of his neck.
He seemed to take a long breath.
“What are you doing?”
“What do you mean?”
He searched my face, eyes full of hesitation.
“You hate me.”
“I do.”
Lie.
I was pretty sure right at that moment I didn’t hate him at all. In fact, I felt things about Brent which made my palms sweaty and my insides coil in anticipation. His closeness affected me in ways I wasn’t prepared for. Ones which had my thoughts scattered and desperately clinging to a rational explanation for why my heart slammed against my ribcage and the prospect of having him much closer enticed me.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
My eyes were still firmly focused on his lips like I was trying to brand them in my memory. I wondered what they’d feel like against mine.
“Fuck, Jen,” he muttered before his hand was suddenly in my hair, tugging me closer.
When his mouth landed on mine, I snapped out of my trance and froze. What the hell was happening right now? Was Brent actually kissing me? And why, why, why did it feel good and make my body thrum?
He pulled away abruptly, his hazel eyes wide with confusion and alarm.
“Shit, I’m sorry, I don’t know what just—”
I didn’t let him finish that sentence. My body acted on instinct as it pressed against his and my lips sealed away his words. Holy shit I was kissing Brent. And I didn’t want to think about the hows or whys. I just wanted to feel and explore whatever seemed to be pulsing between us. Desire. Hate. I didn’t care. All I knew is he felt good.
My hands wound their way into his hair, tugging at the strands. I pressed him back against the sofa, needing to have his solid body flush with mine.
“Jen,” he whispered against my lips like it was almost a plea.
I parted my mouth like an invitation and he dove in, his tongue curling with mine. He tasted faintly of mint and beer. Next thing I knew, I was straddling him and it was hands running over each other’s bodies, the overwhelming need to explore every inch driving us. As his fingers brushed over my stomach, I shuddered. I wanted his hands lower, touching the most intimate parts of me.
That thought made me pull away, panting as I placed both hands on his chest to hold him back. His hazel eyes were dark with lust. I’d never seen him look at me like that. As if the only thing he wanted was to pin me down and ravage me. And boy did it make me want to let him.
This is Brent! Brent for crying out loud! What the hell are you doing?
I hated him. I hated this man. And yet I wanted him to tear my clothes off and fuck me without a care in the world for how wrong it was. I could feel how hard he was through our clothing where my crotch happened to be pressed right up against his. I fought against the urge to grind on him, the tension inside me threatening to overflow.
“I’m only going to ask you this once,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. “Do you want to stop?”
No. No.
No.
I opened my mouth and closed it again. I settled for shaking my head instead because telling him no, I didn’t want him to stop made it feel too real. That we were actually going to do this. We could stop now and neither of us would mention it again. I could write it off as a stupid mistake whilst I was feeling vulnerable and upset.
“Say it, Jen. Tell me you don’t want to stop.”
My hands fell from his chest in supplication. I didn’t want to say it out loud but I needed him to continue. My body felt taut, my insides a mess of tension and desire burnt through my veins. He didn’t move, just stared up at me with an intensity which threatened to consume me from the inside out.
Was this a battle between us on who had the upper hand?
Why the hell was I thinking about that?
Did it even matter who had the upper hand? This wasn’t some kind of war between Brent and me. It never had been. That shit was all in my head. He’d told me he didn’t hate me. And I’d already admitted to myself I didn’t hate him.
Just stop thinking and do.
“Don’t stop.”
Chapter Two
Brent
Past
I tried to think of all the reasons why this was a bad idea. Why I shouldn’t have my best friend’s little sister in my lap right now. Why I shouldn’t want to lay her down on my bed, strip her bare and sink into her tight, wet heat. To say I hadn’t fantasised about how much of a firecracker Jen might be in bed would be a lie. Her sassy no-nonsense attitude and sharp tongue had me in knots. From the day I’d met the twins, I’d known I was royally screwed. There was no denying Jen and Fi were beautiful, but they’d been fifteen and me, twenty one. I’d known they’d been through a shit time of it and it made me want to make it better for them. Except Jen’s first words to me were ‘fuck off’, making it clear she wouldn’t tolerate anything from me.
No matter how many times I told myself I didn’t have a thing for Dante’s sister, there was always a part of me pining after Jen like some lovesick puppy. I mean it was ridiculous. She couldn’t stand to be in the same room let alone be close to me. Her claws came out the second I tried to make nice with her. It only served to make me want to throttle and kiss her senseless at the same time.
And now I had kissed her. Tasted that smart mouth I’d been dreaming about for longer than I cared to admit. I wanted more. To feel every part of her pressed against every part of me. Run my tongue over every single inch of her skin.
Jen is D’s sister. I can’t do that to him. He will actually straight up kill me.
Even the warning bells going off in my head weren’t enough to stop me picking her up and carrying her out of the room. Jen wrapped her legs around me, her arms looping around my shoulders to keep steady. I could feel the heat of her brushing against my cock. What would she feel like under her clothes? Would her skin be as soft as I’d imagined it? How responsive to my touch would she be? Would she cry out my name when I made her come on my tongue?
Too many questions. Too much time spent fantasising and longing for a moment like this. Just one chance to know exactly what it felt like to be inside this maddening woman. The girl who’d stolen my fucking heart from the moment I laid eyes on her twelve years ago.
Yes, she’d been fifteen and it was fucked up and wrong. I’d cared about her and her sister back then. Cared about their wellbeing. Wanted to help bring them back after their traumatic experience with Zach. I loved the twins, but my feelings for Jen weren’t brotherly or innocent in the way they were for her sister. They never had been.
Every step I took towards my bedroom had me trying to shove aside thoughts of why the two of us shouldn’t sleep together. Particularly the part about Jen being emotional and vulnerable. She’d come to me, of all people, to help her and here I was planning on helping myself to her.
She told you not to stop. She wants this.
Jen’s blue eyes burnt with heat and longing leaving me conflicted. I wanted her for entirely selfish reasons. Shoving open my bedroom door, I placed her down on my bed before crawling over her. My mouth found hers again, tasting and nipping at her lips whilst my fingers were unbuttoning her blouse. Her fingers threaded in my hair, nails scraping across my scalp. Christ her touch intoxicated me. My self-control just got shot to pieces.
Just once. I need to have her just once and it’ll be okay. I’ll survive this.
I kissed down her jaw and neck, tugging open her blouse. My eyes roamed down her chest, my breath catching in my throat. The swell of her breasts pushed up by her dark red lacy bra and her milky white skin called to me. My fingers traced a path down her sides whilst my mouth trailed along her collarbone and lower, kissing the tops of her breasts.
“Oh god,” she whimpered, the urgency in her voice spurring me on.
I peeled down the cup of her bra, exposing her dusky pink nipple which I immediately lavished with my tongue. She moaned and bucked, her hands grasping my shoulders. I ached with the need to have her naked so I could sink my throbbing cock inside her.
Jen really had no idea how long I’d wanted this. How much I craved her. How I’d tried to keep my feelings hidden from everyone, especially her. It was easy not to act on them when she hated me. She never failed to make me aware I was her least favourite person to be around. That part was torture. Knowing the woman I’d fallen in love with couldn’t stand the sight of me.
I unbuttoned her figure-hugging trousers, tugging them down after she kicked off her heels. Honestly, seeing her in those did things to me. They elongated her legs, making her so fucking sexy it hurt. Jen didn’t wear skirts and dresses as much as Fi did, but she knew how to show off her subtle curves.
Staring down at her in just her dark red lingerie, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Jen’s body was perfect. Too perfect. Her blue eyes were dark with desire. Her gaze penetrating.
“Are you just going to stare at me or are you going to finish what you started?”
Her voice startled me. The hint of challenge in it had my pulse spiking. Jen’s smart mouth would always be the death of me. The need to match her taunts burnt within me.
“Take the rest of your clothes off and I might consider it.”
Her brow furrowed a little and she waved a hand at me.
“I think that’s a little unfair considering you’re still dressed.”
I leant towards her until my mouth brushed against the curve of her ear. She shuddered when I ran my tongue along it. Her hands went to the bottom of my t-shirt, curling around the hem.
“You want to see me undressed. Why, Jen, I thought you hated me,” I murmured, knowing it would rile her up.
“Shut up,” she ground out.
She had my t-shirt torn off me the next moment and her hands were running down my chest and abs. Her fingers curled into the waistband of my shorts and she gave them a sharp tug.
“Someone’s impatient.”
The look in her eyes made it clear she wasn’t impressed. She tugged me back down and kissed me violently. Her tongue clashed with mine, battling me for dominance. I took both her hands and pinned them above her head, preventing her from sharpening her claws on me. I pulled back and stared down at her. Her chest heaved and her lips were glistening.
“This is only going to go one way. You’re going to stop fighting me if you want me to give you what you want.”
“Oh, and what is it that you think I want?” she almost spat back.
I kept one hand laced over her wrists as I circled her exposed nipple with my thumb. She whimpered in response.
“You want me to fuck you and if you try to deny it, then I’ll quite happily dress you and send you on your way.”
I was bluffing. No way I’d be stopping this madness. I would have Jen tonight. I’d have her pussy clenching around my cock because I couldn’t go another moment without knowing what she felt like.
Her expression faltered, her eyes losing some of the fire burning within them. Vulnerability sh
one through instead. The sight of it made my heart ache.
“I don’t want to be alone tonight,” she whispered.
I leant closer until our noses brushed, my thumb continuing its exploration of her nipple.
“Then tell me the truth.”
“This is the only time you’re ever going to hear me say this.”
I cocked an eyebrow, waiting patiently for her to continue. Her nose ran along mine. I inhaled, breathing in the Dior perfume she always wore. The scent making me ache with longing.
“I want you.”
I claimed her mouth. Hearing her say that had me letting go of her hands so I could cup her face. She clung to me the next moment, arching up and proving her words. Jen wanted me. And she’d have me. She’d had me all this time, she just didn’t know it and she wouldn’t. It was something I could never reveal to her considering I knew very well tonight was a onetime deal. It couldn’t be anything else. Not when she was Dante’s little sister.
“Please,” she whimpered as I kissed down her neck, my fingers working to get rid of the rest of her clothes. “God, please, I can’t take it any longer.”
I trailed my tongue down her stomach after I’d dropped her bra off the side of the bed. Hooking my fingers into her underwear, I tugged those down and settled between her legs. I kissed her inner thigh, staring up at her as I got closer to my prey. Her sweet, tight heat called to me, taunting me. I gave in, parting her with my fingers as my tongue delved into her pussy. Well shit, she tasted like nothing else. More than I ever imagined. I groaned, sinking my tongue into her. Her hips bucked, her body tensing and releasing around me.
“Oh fuck,” she cried out, her hands curling into my hair.
I shifted higher, tongue circling her clit and my hand keeping her pressed to the bed as she moved against me. Her panting and moaning got louder as I pleasured her in the way I’d imagined myself doing more times than I could count. Fantasy couldn’t match up to reality. The way my heart swelled and pounded in my chest. How she tasted like heaven and hell at the same time. Because really, let’s face it, I was going to hell for doing this. For having my tongue in my best friend’s sister’s pussy. The place I was soon going to have my cock.