Page 55 of Messing With My Brother's Best Friends

He blinked, stared up at me, seeming to struggle to come back to the here and now, before pulling himself together.

“I can have a shower, get clean, then we can…” We both looked down and saw my work shirt was now a mess too, having blotted everything I’d thrown at him with my clothing as our bodies pressed together.

“I think I need a shower too,” I said, holding my hands wide.

“There’s one in the en suite and one in the main bathroom,” he said, “or…?”

God, he’d never looked at me like that before. Completely vulnerable, he looked like he was awaiting a slap, not a reply.

“Or we could save water?”

Where the fuck had that come from? Why was I saying things like that? I knew why, even if it felt uncomfortable to admit. Because what I just described was a fantasy of mine that went back a really long time.

Adolescence was annoying and horrifying, and then it was just confusing, because developing a crush on the guys that made my life hell just didn’t make sense. I went from hating them with every breath in my body to following them with my eyes. Still hating them, but also noticing way too much the way their lean muscles flexed. One of them would push past me when I emerged from the shower, my towel clutched tighter as their skin brushed mine, and then right as I went to stare behind me, the bathroom door would be slammed shut and locked, making me wonder… What did they see, feel, when they got under the water? How did it feel to touch that hard body? Was that what had me suggesting a water conservation? I didn’t get to think too much about that as Gage picked me up.

“Whoa, what the fuck?” He froze mid-way out of the kitchen, holding me like I was nothing. “I’m too heavy—”

“The fuck you are.”

That growl was all the response I got as he carried me bodily through the house, kicking the door of the bathroom open then shut again once he got me inside. Never had I been happier that they had chosen to build an open plan bathroom so there was no cubicle to wedge us into. Instead, he pressed me against the wall, one hand going to the tap before he looked up at me.

“You still haven’t answered my question,” he said.

“What?”

“Do you want this?” He studied my face so damn closely, reading every tiny micro expression in an attempt to work out what I’d say before I said it. “Kendall, I gotta know. Because if we have a shower together, I’m not gonna be able to keep my hands off you.”

He shook his head, as if to dislodge the thought, but that just sent droplets of mustard and honey flying. I flinched back, something that made him go perfectly still.

“When you first walked in the door, all I wanted to do was key lock the damn deadbolt so you couldn’t leave me. I thought it’d get easier once we moved you in here, but it just got worse. I see you, smell you, found a hair tie you left on the bathroom sink, and I couldn’t stop myself from staring at it like it was a holy relic. If I…” His voice was choked off, but he tried to rally. “If we…” He set me down then, forcing himself to take a step back. “I won’t be able to stop myself. I won’t, so if you…”

I couldn’t tell him what he wanted to hear. My mind was still struggling to digest everything he’d said, so I answered him the only way I knew how. My hands went to his buttons, popping one free with effort, the fabric swollen and sticky. Then another, and another, he watched me work, right before his hands covered mine and then used them to jerk his shirt free. I laughed as buttons went pinging across the floor, but what I saw in his eyes quickly sobered me.

The shirt came off, but the slow reveal of that massive chest was a whole lot different than the one in the pool. There was no Barbie to stare at me as I stared at Gage, nor a witness to see me raise a shaking hand. No one heard the low hiss of my breath at the first touch of his skin but him. No one saw him move closer, his hand covering mine right as his went to my cheek.

“If we get naked. If we get under the water together.” His brows creased and my fingers twitched, wanting to smooth that away. “Then I won’t be able to hold myself back anymore. I’ve wanted to kiss you, touch you, feel every fucking inch of you for too many years and—”

I pressed my hands to his lips, feeling the softness and the scratch of his stubble.

“I want that,” I said finally, smiling when I felt how true that was. “I want that a whole lot.”

Chapter 29

Gage

Kendall was gonna regret saying that, I thought, even as I wished she wouldn’t. She let this dog off his chain, and I went lunging forward, my mouth, my hands on her, tearing at her clothes, needing to get in. To touch her, feel her filling my hands, then my mouth. But first this.

I kissed her so much more slowly now, wanting to brand the shape of her mouth on mine. But then she parted her lips, and I was inside. Slick, warm, and tasting as sweet as I knew she would, my tongue tangled with hers. That sensual slide had me shifting against her, picking her up and pinning her to the wall, my hips shoved between her thighs, the friction driving me out of my mind. When I slapped my hand down on the tap, the rush of cold water took us both by surprise. We jerked back, spluttering, then laughed as we shivered at the cold. I went to turn it off, but she shook her head, reaching behind to tweak the water temperature until it became a little more bearable. It was her sly smile that had me surging forward again, to feel her body wedge between the wall and me. I loved the way her butt and her hips gave under my fingers, a softness I wanted to bury myself in as I nudged at her lips.

Kiss me, was the unconscious demand and just like any challenge, Kendall rose to it admirably. Her teeth raked across my bottom lip, and I liked that nip of pain a whole lot. It eased the one inside my heart, made the throb more bearable, but I took over pretty damn quickly. More kisses, more tongue, more of her taste, more of her, I thought I mumbled something to that effect, which had her pulling away.

“More?” Her eyes danced as she asked the question and that had me growling. “Well, if you want more…”

“You know I do,” came my sharp retort, but any further response died in my throat as she struggled to get her shirt up and over her head. I took over. I’d do it any time she wanted to strip off going forward. I wanted to tell her that, but instead focussed on working it up and over her head. Because when it was tossed to the floor with a splat, my mouth went dry at the sight of her.

She was beautiful. Did she know how much? Undoubtedly no, because otherwise she’d just walk around topless and have the lot of us panting after her. Not just because her luscious tits threatened to spill free from the cups of her bra, nor the curves I longed to trace with my tongue. But because she was Kendall. It felt like fate, the moment I touched her, her skin so soft and plush. A traitorous thought reverberated through my head.

Mine.

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