Page 54 of Messing With My Brother's Best Friends

“You didn’t mean…” I found myself laughing, an ugly bark of a thing, then shook my head, focussing back on cleaning him up. “Of course, you didn’t—”

A sticky finger was pressed to my lips, stopping me from saying another word right before he nodded.

“Didn’t expect you to believe me right away,” he said in a low rumble. “Not after… Not now I know what went down. It had to be Finn—”

“I know.”

I pulled back, but my lip still tingled from his touch before I went back to work, smoothing the towel down the harsh plane of his cheek, and that’s when all the other memories hit me.

Girls swooned over Gage Slater, and I knew why. Objectively I knew he had a strong face, all harsh angles without an inch of softness, but touching it? Even with the buffer of the paper towel between us, it didn’t seem to matter.

I could feel the heat of his skin radiating through the moisture in the paper towel, heating my fingertips to the point almost of pain. That wasn’t true, it couldn’t be, but that’s what it felt like. That he was searing me like a steak on a BBQ plate the minute I started cleaning him up.

Did he see that, what he was doing to me? Those eyes that seemed to stare right into my soul were doing a damn good job of cataloguing every movement I made, but that didn’t explain the fire that flickered within them.

I’d never noticed that before.

One that seemed to grow brighter as I worked, smoothing the paper towel down one cheek, then another, his head tilting slowly in response to my efforts. Presenting his cheek for me to clean more easily, thrusting his chin up as the paper towel scraped across the stubble, then went to wipe away the smear of sauce across his lips.

Girls had rhapsodised at lengths about this mouth, talked about the shape of his lips, their fullness, the only softness in his whole face. But they didn’t know what it looked like, to see that bottom lip dimple as I wiped it clean over and over.

Well beyond what was needed.

He was forbidden fruit, my tormentor, my jailer, my brother’s best friend, but if that was all in the past.

What was he now?

I looked up, finally meeting his gaze. And those same lips curved slightly, like he was so very happy with himself right now. Yeah, well, I wasn’t the one covered in honey and peanut butter. As if to remind him of that fact, a drop of honey fell free, sliding down his newly cleaned cheek, my focus unable to be redirected as it pooled in the line of his lips.

My spare hand moved of its own accord, my thumb brushing across his mouth, collecting up the honey, my own lips parting as his did. It was as if he wanted a taste, but instead, I shoved my thumb into my own mouth and sucked it clean.

“Tell me no again.”

I barely heard what he said, let alone understood its content, especially when he edged closer. My thighs were pushed wider, forced to let him in.

“Tell me no, Kendall.” His voice was low, and hoarse, and full of urgency. “Tell me that you don’t want this.”

I’d stuffed my responses down when I was dealing with them before, but it didn’t feel like this. Like the very reasonable rejection of him and everything he was offering was somehow stuck in my throat. I didn’t want to say it. I didn’t want to tell him to fuck off. I’d shove him in the chest and send him stumbling.

But he’d come right back for more.

My fingers flexed as I let the paper towel fall as I had a sudden realisation.

“And if I don’t?”

For the first time ever, I knew I could do anything I wanted to Gage, but I had to hear him say it.

“Then you know what’s gonna happen.”

An arm snaked around my waist, tugging me to the edge of the bench, my legs forced to wrap around him or fall off. My hands slid through flour and sauce and mustard, but underneath it all, I felt him.

“The same thing that I dreamed of more nights than I can remember.” He moved in, close but not close enough, lips hovering over mine. His words feathered over my skin, leaving a tingle in their wake. “You and me, baby. Just like it was always supposed to be. Tell me you want that.”

I couldn’t. My throat worked, a small whine starting up at the base, but no actual words came out. It felt like my whole world had been turned topsy turvy, and I was trying to find my equilibrium again, which was perhaps why I did this. I didn’t have a very sensible discussion about what this all meant, instead pressing my lips against his.

The groan that came out of him, the way his grip on me tightened to the point of pain, as if he was scared I’d be snatched away. I fucking needed that so much. For his mouth to take over the whole damn process, kissing me hard, fast, claiming every inch of my lips as his. Forcing mine to open, his tongue flickering out, slightly tainted by honey and peanut butter, but mostly tasting of him. Dark, masculine, and more tempting than dark chocolate, my fingers sank into his hair as I chased more, right up until I was forced to deal with the sticky mess I’d made.

“Oh my god, what a mess…”

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