Page 59 of The Wrong Brother

I kiss her lips, her cheeks, the soft line of her collarbone, unable to get enough of her. My hands roam her body, sliding up to cup her breasts, kneading the soft curves, my thumbs brushing over her hardened nipples. She arches into my touch, her cries turning into incoherent murmurs that drive me wild.

I feel her tightening around me, her thighs trembling against my sides as I fuck her. She’s so close, and the thought sends a surge of heat through me. I bury myself deeper, my rhythm quickening, my thrusts harder now, rougher, as the last of my control slips away. I groan, low and guttural, as her nails dig into my back, anchoring herself against the onslaught.

Her cries reach a crescendo, her head tipping back as she comes undone beneath me. Her body shakes, her walls fluttering around me, and the sight of her, completely lost in pleasure, pushes me over the edge.

“Fuck,” I groan, thrusting up into her one last time as the tension in my body snaps. The pleasure is blinding, all-consuming, every nerve alight as I spill into her. My hands tighten on her waist, holding her close as we ride out the waves together.

I collapse against her, her body trembling and slick with sweat, her head resting on my shoulder. I wrap my arms around her, pulling her close, feeling her heart pounding in sync with mine. For a moment, neither of us moves, our bodies slick with sweat, our breaths mingling as we try to catch them. The room is filled with the sound of our ragged breathing, the air thick with the scent of sex and something deeper…something unspoken.

I press a kiss to her temple, my hand sliding up her back to tangle in her hair. “You’re perfect,” I whisper, the words spilling out before I can stop them. And it’s true. She’s everything I didn’t know I needed, everything I’ll never be able to let go of.

I turn around with her until she’s nestled into the curve of my body. I should let her go. Tell her to return to her room, maintain the distance I know we should have, but I might as well cut my arm off than do this. And so, we remain in place, basking in each other's warmth in total disbelief of the extent and intensity of our connection.

She fits perfectly, her body curving into mine like she was made to be here. I reach for the blanket, pulling it over us as I press another kiss to her hair.

The room is silent save for the sound of our breathing, and I feel a fierce protectiveness settle over me. I’ll keep her safe, from everything and everyone. No matter what.

Chapter

Thirty-Three

JENNY

Iwake up to the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath my cheek, his heartbeat a quiet, reassuring rhythm in the sunset silence. His arm is still draped over me, the weight of it grounding and protective. For a moment, I let myself sink into the warmth of him, my eyes tracing the curve of his jaw, the faint shadow of stubble catching the soft light filtering through the curtains. His beauty is staggering, almost unreal. He looks at peace, so different from the intensity he radiates when awake.

But then the reality of what just happened crashes over me, and my chest tightens. This is too much. Too close. Too raw. I tell myself it’s just the afterglow, the lingering haze of pleasure blurring my thoughts, but deep down, I know better. This isn’t just about the sex…though that was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. It’s about him, and the way he makes me feel. Vulnerable. Exposed. Seen.

I can’t let that happen.

Sliding carefully out from under his arm, I move as quietly as I can, trying not to wake him. My dress is crumpled on the floor, a stark reminder of how this night started, and as I slip it back on, I feel the weight of every decision pressing down on me.

When I turn back to look at him, he’s awake, his eyes dark and watchful. He props himself up on one elbow, the sheet slipping down to reveal the planes of his chest. His gaze pins me in place, and for a moment, neither of us speaks.

“Leaving already?” His voice is low, rough from sleep, and it sends a shiver down my spine.

I force a smile, hoping it hides the turmoil churning inside me. “I should go. I need to… think.”

He sits up fully now, the sheet pooling around his waist, his expression unreadable. “About what?”

“About this,” I say, gesturing vaguely between us.

“And what about this?” he asks.

I actually think of an answer for this, but an entire minute passes, and nothing forms in my brain except cobwebs.

And so, I just state exactly what I want to.

“I… I’m thinking that this is okay because we’re both adults, Zack. And w-we have… needs. So… this can work as just what it is. It doesn’t have to mean anything more than that.”

My stomach twists so painfully at this, but I console myself with the fact that this is the truth. I tell myself I’m just getting emotional and lost in the intensity of the current moment, which is why I’m being this blunt…so clear lines can be drawn for both me and him. It will be better for everybody.

The way he stares at me, though, makes me want to dig a hole and slide myself into it forever. But I strengthen my resolve to go this route.

I want Brett, and this has been a conviction of mine since I was too young to even know what love was. Zack, though alluring, is cold, while Brett…with his warmth…has been whatI’ve been drawn to from the very start. So, I have to test myself and not get distracted by someone like Zack.

Plus, I imagine Zack should be comfortable with this arrangement. He’s someone who especially deals with transactions, so he should take this as one as well.

His jaw tightens, but he nods slowly, his gaze never leaving mine. “Is that what you want?”

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