Page 33 of Never Say Yes To Your Brother's Best Friend

I can tell, as soon as I catch sight of his face as it turns to me, that he thinks I’ve changed my mind. That this is it. He’s too bad, too wrong, too filthy, too much of all the things I could never want. I see the doubt and the instantaneous flash of hurt before he blinks to wipe it away. This is just another rejection for him. Another loss. His jaw is already hard, his face settling into lines of stone. He’s already guarding himself against feeling the sting of it.

I won’t let him do that. I won’t let him hurt like this.

He’s on the other side of the bed, so I scramble up and walk around it. He sits up slowly, watching me, confused about what my next move is. What his next move is.

I tug my shorts down. Followed by my panties. I’m completely soaked and hot between my legs.

“Fucking… god…” he gasps out.

“Come here.” I take his hands and pull him up.

I need to touch him. All over. So I do, memorizing each plane and angle. I tip my head forward and taste him. I run my tongue over the flat of his nipple. Then down, down until I sink to my knees. I’m lucky enough that his jeans give way under myfingers, and I don’t have to work at them. I pull them down. His boxers too. He’s too stunned to fight me.

He steps out of them, one leg at a time, and then he lets me push him down to sit at the edge of the bed.

I think he’s so tired that his brain isn’t processing as fast as it should be. I don’t think he’d let me do this if he wasn’t freaking exhausted. How many days can a person stay awake before their health is literally at risk?

When I climb on top of him, spreading my legs so freaking wide to fit him between me, he finally starts to fight me. He takes my shoulders when I bend. I wrap my hand around his cock, curling my palm around his shaft. He’s ridiculously huge. He tries to get his hand around me, but I knock it away.

“Rick?”

He groans. “Yes, Aspen?”

“I’m sure about this. So fucking sure. Surer than any kind of sure that was ever sure. But I need to know you’re okay.”

“I’m not okay. I’m not.”

God.“Are you okay withthis?” I release him and arch back, naked and unashamed. He devours me, his eyes sweeping over me like he needs to memorize every single detail before I vanish. I brush my fingertips over the muscles in his thighs. They start to shake as soon as I touch them. He’s still trembling.

“Fuck.” He throws both hands up to his face and over his eyes. “I want you. I shouldn’t want you, but I do. I want to touch you. I want to worship you. I want you as the goddess you are. I’m going to sully you. I’m going to break you. I’m going to—”

I put my hand over his mouth. Instead of telling him to stop it, to stop saying those things, things that aren’t true and that I don’t want him to believe because they’rehurtinghim so very badly, I scoot forward and replace my hand with my mouth.

I kiss him softly for the first time tonight. I try to kiss healing into him. The goodness and light that will come in and soak upall those hard memories and work their way into the cracks in his soul.

His erection is trapped between us, and he throbs against my stomach. I can feel the wetness of him seeping between us. I’m wet too, so wet and so hot, but my heart and chest hurts too.

“Rick.” I kiss his lips and then his cheek. His nose. His other cheek. I kiss his forehead and his temples. I taste the salt there and feel the wetness.

He covers his eyes, but he’s not crying. They’re just…leaking a little. I know he wouldn’t want me to think he’s capable of it.

I kiss my way back to his cheeks, then his jaw, and down his neck. “No dirt, Rick. Nothing. Only you. It’s only you, and you taste wonderful. I love kissing you.” He groans like he’s in pain. He reaches for me, running his hands down my arms and up again. His body is hot, and he’s still shaking slightly. I press my lips to the spot right above his heart. “It’s just warm skin here. I can feel your heartbeat.” I press my hand there, letting the thumps kick against my palm. “It’s a beautiful, regular heartbeat. Nothing black here.”

“You know that’s just an expression,” he mutters.

“I do. But do you?”

The muscles of his stomach clench when I kiss my way down them. “You’re beautiful, and I love your body. I love the way you taste. I love your scent.”

“I have no one.” The final, broken words, torn from the most wounded part of him. “I…it wouldn’t have mattered if it had been me. No one would have missed me.”

No. My heart breaks wide open. This isn’t what he needs. I thought it was, but it isn’t. He’s not ready. And maybe I’m not ready either. My body is ready, but the rest of me? It’s hurting. Hurting for him.

He’s so much bigger and stronger, but he lets me move to curl up at his side and rest my face against his chest, against hisstrong, steady heartbeat. I need to hold it together, even when it feels like my chest is going to rip in half. I can spend the next few minutes being strong when this man and men just like him and my brother gave their youth and spent the whole of their adult lives being stronger than anyone could ever imagine. I’m not going to get into the morals of it. I know I won’t agree with everything he’s done or that Jace might have done, but I do know it’s not black and white. I know it was their job, and they were following orders. Sometimes, choice isn’t an option.

Did Jace know he was going to do things he didn’t want to do? Did he know he was going to have regrets? Yes. Yes, he probably did. Was he haunted by some of the things he did and saw? I don’t doubt he was. But he’s still my brother, and if he had made it back home, no matter how much PTSD there was to work through, I would never have abandoned him, and I would never have stopped loving him or looking up to him. I would have hoped he’d be able to get healthy again, that he’d heal and find someone who would love him. I would have wanted him to have a family, to grow old, to be loved by so many people, and also love in return.

Gradually, Rick’s arm slides around my shoulders. He’s trembling less now.

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