Page 6 of My Brother's Billionaire Best Friends
Jack, never one to lose focus, gropes my breasts under my blazer, fingers tweaking my hard nipples. More heat shudders through me. He whispers in my ear, “I remember everything, sweetheart. Including this.” He roughly pinches my nipples.
My mouth falls slack as another orgasm takes hold. The pain of his grip on my nipples… I love that pain. It makes me come so fucking hard that I see stars.
Harrison slams into me and pulls out to come on my ass. He’s still gasping when he wipes me down with his tie.
I turn to Jack, dying for him to complete the night. Just as I reach for him, the elevator jolts.
Oh, shit.
Security says, “Looks like we got you rolling again. Sorry for the inconvenience.”
I’m shoving my clothes back into place, and the guys barely look like anything happened. When the doors open, the four of us are as put together as we can be. A man in a security uniform stands there, apologetic as all hell. “Mr. Thatcher, I am?—”
“No worries, Jerry,” Gavin says, patting his shoulder. “All’s well that ends well.” He strolls toward executive parking like nothing happened, Harrison hot on his heels.
Only Jack glances back at me. He mouths, “Next time,” before exiting through the same door.
Next time? There’ll be a next time? After what just happened in the elevator, how do I explain that’s a bad idea?
How do I tell him that I probably shouldn’t be having foursomes that include the father of my children when he doesn’t know he’s the father of my children?
2
JACK
Parker Simon is prettierthan I remembered. And that’s a fucking problem.
Not that I ever forgot her. I’ve spent the last seven years pretending she was just a blip, just one night of bad judgment. But the moment she stepped back into VT Global wearing that soft pink blouse and carrying a tote bag big enough to hold the secrets to my happiness, every lie I’ve told myself cracked down the middle.
She’s still got those soft eyes, though her face has matured into something sharper, cleverer. Her brown curly hair is longer now. She had it twisted up on Friday, but it had fallen around her face and shoulders by the time we left the elevator. I remember exactly how those curls felt between my fingers.
I also remember how she looked at me that night seven years ago. Eyes wide. Lush lips parted. Her voice shaking after we finished when she said, “I can’t believe we did that. Phil is going to kill us.”
And I believed her. That she meant it. That it was a mistake.
Even though I hadn’t been drunk. Even though I’d waited all damn night hoping for a sign she might want me too. Even though I still remember how she kissed like she meant it and clung to me like I was the only thing anchoring her.
She walked out before sunrise, whispering that we had to pretend it never happened. And I let her go.
I spent the rest of that day looking at the logistics. I’m ten years older than her. I had no business having a crush on her. Still don’t.
Do I?
She’s twenty-five now. Has twins. She’s building a career?—
One that I might derail if I don’t keep it in my pants.
But is that true, or is that conventional wisdom that sounds like common sense? We’re both adults. We made an adult choice that night at the bar, and in the elevator Friday. It’s no one else’s business but our own.
Phil’s goofy-ass face pops into my head, stealing the oxygen from that argument. He’s been one of my best friends since prep school. He’s why she left my bed so early the morning after. Ironically, he’s the reason I’ve avoided him since I slept with his sister.
Avoided every family gathering Phil invited me to after that. Claimed scheduling conflicts. Blamed busy seasons. I even skipped a holiday ski trip to Aspen when I found out Parker was going. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t worry about him finding out. He’d hate me for it. That’d be the end of our friendship.
Apparently, it’s all well and good to be friends with a known womanizer as long as he doesn’t fuck your sister.
I thought dodging invites would be enough distance between me and Parker. But then Phil mentioned she was looking for work, and somehow Gavin suggested we interview her. Said her résumé was solid. That she was smart, organized, good with people. I didn’t disagree. I just kept my mouth shut, hoping for the best outcome for her. She deserves a good job.
And I deserve to have my ass kicked.
