Page 60 of The Wrong Brother

“It’s what makes sense,” I say, my voice firmer than I feel. “We can keep things simple. No strings. Just… this.”

There’s a long pause, the tension in the room thick enough to choke on. When he finally speaks, his tone is calm, almost detached, but there’s an edge to it that I can’t quite place. “Alright. If that’s what you want.”

Relief floods through me, but it’s short-lived as he adds, “But if this is going to be just sex, Jenny, then it goes both ways. No rules. No boundaries. If you’re going to use me, I’ll do the same to you.”

My breath catches, and I blink at him, stunned. “What… what does that mean?”

“It means you don’t get to deprive me when you feel like it,” he says, his gaze sharp and unyielding. “You can’t decide when or where this happens. If you want this arrangement, then you have to be all in.”

His words hang in the air like a challenge, and I can feel my pulse racing. The idea of giving up that kind of control terrifies me, but the thought of walking away from him completely terrifies me even more.

“That sounds… dangerous,” I say quietly, my voice wavering despite my best efforts to sound composed.

A faint smile tugs at the corner of his lips, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “It is. But it’s not. It’s just business.”

I’d thought setting this agreement in place would make me feel better and more in control, but instead, it suddenly feels likeall the warmth in my chest rushes out of my body, replaced by a frightening chill.

I don’t know what to say to that, so I don’t say anything. I just nod, my throat tight, and turn to leave. But as I reach the door, something makes me pause. The sight of him, bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun, his bare chest rising and falling with every breath, is enough to make my heart stutter. He looks unguarded, achingly beautiful, and for a moment, I wonder if I’m making a mistake.

“Jenny,” he says softly, and the sound of my name on his lips is enough to break me.

I turn back to face him, my resolve wavering. “Alright,” I say finally, the words feeling like a surrender. “I’m in.”

The smile he gives me then is slow and deliberate, and it makes my stomach flip. “Good,” he says. “See you later, then.”

And just like that, he settles back into the bed, adjusts his position, and closes his eyes to sleep.

The next few days, I truly begin to understand what he’d meant, and even though, in the moment, it’s everything I want, that feeling of losing complete control creeps back in, stronger and more unsettling.

The first instance comes a few days later, on the balcony.

The air was crisp, tinged with the scent of rain lingering from earlier in the evening. The city lights below twinkled like scattered jewels, indifferent to what was about to unfold. I had been sitting inside, trying to read to allay my anxiety over when and if he would ever talk to me again.

And then he’d come over and tugged the book from my hands, setting it aside without a word. His presence loomed over me, commanding without effort, and when he held out his hand, I took it…hesitantly at first. I wasn’t sure where this would go, but before I could think too much about it, he guided metoward the open balcony doors. The cool wind kissed my skin as I stepped out, the night enveloping us in its quiet intimacy.

“Zack…” I started, unsure of what to say, but he silenced me with a look. That dark, smoldering gaze of his had me pinned, and my breath hitched when he turned me around to face the railing.

“This is what I want,” he’d murmured, his voice low and rough against my ear. His hands settled on my hips, firm but not forceful, as if giving me a chance to stop this before it started. But I didn’t. I couldn’t.

Before I knew it, I was bent over the cool metal of the railing, the city sprawling below us, both thrilling and exposing. The wind swept my hair across my face, and I barely noticed when his hands pushed up the hem of my dress, his touch leaving a trail of fire against my skin. My pulse raced as the fabric bunched around my waist, and the first press of his body against mine stole my breath.

“Relax,” he whispered, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. But there was no relaxing…not with him, not like this. Every nerve in my body was alive, hyperaware of his every movement.

When he slid into me from behind, the stretch was slow, deliberate, and utterly consuming. I gasped, my fingers gripping the railing for support as he filled me completely, his hands anchoring my hips to his. The sensation was overwhelming, the angle perfect in a way that made me tremble. The world around us seemed to blur, the sounds of the city fading into nothing as he plain and simple started to fuck me out of my mind.

Each thrust was measured at first, his control evident in the way he seemed to savor every inch of me. But it didn’t last. Soon, his rhythm grew rougher, more desperate, his hips slamming into mine with a force that sent shocks of pleasure spiraling through me. The railing dug into my stomach, grounding me, as my body met his in perfect synchronization.

The wind whipped against my skin, cool against the heat building inside me, and I couldn’t hold back the cries spilling from my lips. He leaned over me, his chest pressing against my back, and the sound of his ragged breaths in my ear made me clench around him, drawing a guttural groan from deep in his throat.

“Jenny,” he growled, his voice raw and broken. One of his hands slid up my side, gripping the curve of my waist before moving to cup my breast. His fingers teased the sensitive peak, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through me as his pace quickened.

The intensity was overwhelming, the pleasure sharp and unrelenting. My legs trembled beneath me, the railing the only thing keeping me upright as he drove into me, each thrust deeper and harder than the last. The combination of his heat, his strength, and the cool night air was dizzying, intoxicating.

When my release finally hit, it was explosive, ripping through me in waves so powerful they left me shaking. My body tightened around him, and his rhythm faltered as he followed me over the edge, his groan echoing in the night as he buried himself inside me one last time.

I couldn’t fall asleep that night because, for some reason, I needed him. Needed the warmth he had offered me initially by holding me in his arms and soothing me. Instead, he’d turned and left, even smacking my ass on his way out, and I’d never felt colder. Still, I told myself it was better this way because it made me hate him…just a little, though…since this was what I had asked for. To simply be fucked, with no emotions left intact.

And so, eventually, I fell asleep thinking of Brett and how much warmer he was. But it felt like cheating because that affection and warmth…if I were honest…Zack had offered me first.

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