Page 100 of Messing With My Brother's Best Friends

I’d stripped off angrily the minute I got into the room but sinking down onto the bed with only the light of the moon to guide me improved my mood a helluva lot. Exhaustion hit me like a ton of bricks, pinning me to the mattress. My eyes fluttered closed as I heard everyone else join me. Their voices were muffled, indistinct, but a sharp pop had me opening them again.

“I’m really tired…” I said as I felt someone crawl on the bed. “I think I’m gonna just crash.”

“Is that what you reckon?”

Kendall’s voice was like a siren song and normally it could rouse me out of whatever mood I was in, making me ready to do her bidding, but not now. I closed my eyes again, burying my face in sheets that still faintly smelled of her perfume and prepared myself to fall into sleep when I felt two slick hands slide across my shoulders.

“Kendall…”

I’d meant that as a rebuke, to tell her that she had me right where she wanted me but if I was to stay in this bed, it was to sleep. I felt hollow and empty and too full all at the same time, and I hated that. Her hands ignored my protest, skimming over my skin, making every nerve ending perk up and take notice, turning the tail end of her name into a groan.

“I think he likes that.”

Van, the fuckhead.

“Shut up.”

“Can’t hear you, mate.” A thud of something soft hit the back of my head. “Pillow’s in the way.”

My arms tightened and my fingers flexed, ready to grab another pillow and retaliate, but Kendall burrowed her fingers into my shoulders and forced my own to go lax. Jesus, I was putty in her hands. My spine lengthened and I sank down deeper into the bed as I felt her thighs move to straddle my hips, but it wasn’t until her arse perched on mine that I could truly relax. She had me pinned and there was nothing I could do.

How did she know my traps were aching from being locked in place, hunched over the damn laptop? How did her thumbs find the exact points in my shoulder blades to send weird bolts of referred pain through my entire upper back, only to erase it all as her hands passed? Why did every stroke of her open palm have me understanding cats better, my brain forced to stop worrying about Dad’s bullshit and follow the path of each one, the resulting sensation making every hair pull to attention with pleasure? I just wanted this to go on for ever and ever because then I didn’t have to deal with this.

Shame sat heavily in my gut, like I’d swallowed a great acid bath of it and it’d burned everything inside me all the way down. Academically, I knew I’d had no way to predict that Dad would pull this shit. I’d been wary but desperate when I went to him for the loan in the first place, but I’d assumed his investment in my success would keep us safe.

How wrong I was.

But that was the problem with people like Dad. Human beings couldn’t exist without things like trust and love, but he didn’t seem to need either. It was as if he was missing something crucial that made him human, and so there was no way to anticipate his actions. Something else guided him, and all I could do was try to get us as far away from him as possible. Maybe Alan was right. If we sold up, moved somewhere else—

“Turn over.”

I groaned, not wanting to move, but whatever Kendall asked of me, I’d do. She was everything, and if I didn’t have her right now, I didn’t know what I’d be doing. Sitting up all night worrying, then drinking enough beer to shut up the persistent voice inside my head that told me I wasn’t good enough maybe, but instead, I was faced with this.

My beautiful girl looming above me, the silver of the moonlight tracing the barest lines of her face as she stared down at me. Kendall looked as distant as a goddess and twice as beautiful. I just stared as she anointed her hands with oil, rubbing them together to create a slick sound, right before they came down. My whole body jumped at the warmth of her touch and then at the feel of her spreading the oil all over my chest, raking her fingers across tight muscles before she spoke.

“I think I know what you’re feeling right now.”

“Loose.” I barely murmured that.

She shook her head. “Shame.”

She had me relaxing, stroking my muscles, finding knots with unerring accuracy before her fingers dug in, but that word had all the tension flooding back.

“Didn’t realise I was that transparent.”

“You’re not.” Kendall ignored my terse tone, keeping her strokes long and loose. “But I know you, Connor.”

Not enough, evidently. Part of me was disappointed to realise that. She’d started strong, using the lure of her body to get me to relax a little but that hadn’t lasted long.

“I guess you do.”

My voice was tight, my reply bland. I didn’t want to talk about this anymore. If I was going to be forced to deal with this shit, I’d rather do it in front of my computer. I could start playing with scenarios, forcing my tired brain to think of more and more options because maybe one would get us out of this mess. I started to rise up off the bed, but her hand went around my throat. She used it to push me right down, her grip no doubt revealing the rapid thud of my pulse.

“You think this is your problem, your responsibility. You pay lip service to the idea that we’re all equal partners in this relationship, but we aren’t really. All the pleasure and the fun is ours.” Slick fingers trailed down my chest, swirling across my stomach. “And all the pain is yours.”

I had stuff to say about that, but every word was choked off as she wrapped her hand around my cock. I was sure I caught the moment when each finger curled around me, my whole spine curling.

“Kendall…”

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