Page 26 of Enemies with my Bestie’s Brother
“I like that,” he growls as he puts his head down between them and takes the middle of the bra into his mouth.
After a few seconds, he pulls back as the bra flies opening, exposing my breasts to him. He sucks in a breath at the sight, admiring them before he cups his hands around each one.
“So perfect.”
I lean in and kiss him, and he kisses me back as he pushes me once more toward the bedroom. I shimmy my shoulders and let the open bra fall to the ground in the hallway, leaving a trail of clothes in our wake as we finally get to the bedroom. We stumble inside when he pulls his lips away from mine. He gently pushes me down onto the bed before slowly unbuttoning my jeans and pushing them down to my ankles.
My breath hitches as he hooks two fingers into both sides of my panties, licking his lips as he pulls them down. They join my jeans as they drop to the floor. He comes back over me, kissing me first on the lips, and then making his way down my body. He trails his tongue down the center, between my breasts to my belly button. He looks up at me, staring at me with an intense heat in his blue eyes. He pulls his shirt off and tosses it somewhere before positioning his head right above my exposed core. My thighs rest against his shoulders as he leans in and gently licks from my entrance to my sweet spot. I cry out in pleasure, reveling in the sensation. He does it again and again, faster and harder until he begins to focus just on that special spot, the one that fills my belly with warmth. He inserts a finger into me and curls it so that it touches the ribbed part of me, the part that eventually sends me over the edge, along with his tongue.
“Oh my god, Grayson,” I moan as the pleasure rolls over me. “More…”
“Don’t worry, there’s more coming,” he whispers as he slowly rolls me over onto my belly.
I wiggle my bum at him and he slaps it. I giggle as he grabs both of my cheeks.
I turn to face him as he positions himself at my entrance. He grabs my hair with one hand as he pushes into me, my warmth enveloping his entire member. He grunts as he pushes into me again, harder, pulling my hair so hard that I’m forced to look at the ceiling as he thrusts. With each thrust I’m moaning louder, the pleasure overwhelming as he hits the perfect spot over and over again.
He moves his hands to my thighs, pulling me into him with each movement. The pace picks up, our breaths quickening with the motion. I back into him as I feel the orgasm rock my body again.
“Oh god, Grayson, I’m cumming.” I call his name, shivering with pleasure.
He releases into me, filling me with pleasure of his own. We both collapse into bed, spent from the gratification we just experienced together.
It’searlythenextmorning when I wake up. I look around, panicked. Oh my god. I didn’t just sleep with my best friend’s brother — who is now also my boss — again, did I?
I look to my side, confirming that yes, that is my best friend's brother laying next to me in bed. Again. Oh god, this is so, so bad.
I creep out of bed slowly in an attempt not to wake him. I quickly gather my clothes from around the apartment and dress. I think about leaving a note, but in truth, I’m just eager to get away from this situation.
So instead, I sneak out the door and across the hall, as if I was never at Grayson’s in the first place.
Chapter Eleven
Grayson
Iturnoverinbed the next morning to throw my arm over Whitney. My eyes pop open in surprise when they instead hit the empty bed. I sit up and look at the space next to me. Wait a second, where is Whitney? I step out of bed and quietly creep into the hallway.
“Whitney?” I call out.
I get no response. She had no reason to leave early. It’s not like she has to work or anything, and since I’m her boss, it’s safe to say that she would get a pass for being late even if she did have to.
I walk out into the living room, but there’s nothing but a mess of beer bottles and pizza on the coffee table. She’s not here, and it seems that she snuck out while I was sleeping.
I can feel irritation rise within me. She seriously just left without saying anything at all. What the hell? Why would she do that?
Oh. I’m starting to understand why my sneaking out that weekend may have made her so upset. I try to come up with reasons why the situations would be different, but in truth, they aren’t, and I have to face the fact that I made the wrong decision to leave without saying goodbye.
It sucks to realize that you’re wrong, but not as much as it sucks to realize that you hurt someone while doing the wrong thing. I grab an armful of the beer bottles off the coffee table and drop them slowly into the recycling, doing my best to avoid shattering any. I go back for the rest when I spot my phone wedged in between the couch cushions. I sigh and dislodge my phone. It’s close to dying, and honestly, I’m surprised that it’s still got any juice in it, considering that the last time I remember looking at it, it was on eight percent. I hit the small button on the side to reveal a flashing notification on the screen — a text from my brother, Preston, asking if we’re still on for breakfast this morning.
Oh, shit, I completely forgot about the fact that we’d be going for breakfast. He’s in town for only a few days before he goes on vacation. I’m not late just yet, but I’m going to have to take the world’s fastest shower in order to be presentable for breakfast.
“Thereyouare!Finally.I already ordered for us since I know what you like,” Preston says as I sit down.
One thing that people always ask me is if it feels like looking in a mirror when I look at Preston. And the answer is always no. One, because I’m not a complete moron. Two, because we’re so completely different in our mannerisms that I don’t even have to think about it. Three, I have a very small and very faded scar on my chin from falling off the playground when we were in elementary school. It took five stitches to seal. Despite these reasons, I still understand why it can be difficult for people to tell which one of us is which. We are identical, after all.“Sorry, Pres. My phone died on the way here. I forgot to charge it last night,” I explain as I grab a piece of bread from the bowl in the middle of the table.
I take my time buttering the slice, making sure every inch is covered, even the crust.
“You forgot to charge your phone? Always-connected-business-mogul Grayson Gould? Are you feeling okay?” Preston chuckles at his own lame joke.
