Page 28 of Crushing On My Brothers BFF

She looks at me sharply, her eyes wide, like she realizes the danger of our position. She knows we must be careful about being this close to each other.

“It must be cool having a friend you can’t even remember meeting,” she says.

Her tone tells a whole story that she keeps out of her words. It’s like she’s desperate to remind me that anything we do could hurt Paul, which makes it so much worse when I close the distance between us. I adjust her shoulder strap, giving myself an excuseto touch her. It’s howhotshe is, like her hot, young body is burning up through her clothes.

She reaches up and touches my wrist before I can pull my hand away. She looks shocked at herself for doing it.

“Has anybody ever told you how beautiful you are?” I groan, knowing I shouldn’t.

She shakes her head.

“That’s a damn shame,” I growl. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

“Don’t say stuff like that,” she whispers. “It can’t be true.”

“Itis,” I snarl. “Why would I lie to you? What do I gain from that? I shouldn’t be saying any of this. We both know it. I shouldn’t be doing this either.”

“Doing wh…”

She trails off when I lean in. I’ll never be able to look at myself the same again, but the hunger in me is too much to take. There’s a longing in my chest, my heart twitching when I think about owning her. Emotionally. Physically. Her soul. Everything.

She moans in the sexiest way when I press my lips against hers. We kiss passionately for a few seconds, her tongue finding mine just as eagerly as mine finds hers. She grabs onto my arms and squeezes, her fingernails digging in.

Then she breaks it off, gasping. “Paul,” she says.

“I know,” I reply.

We stare into each other’s eyes. It’s like we’re daring each other, but whether that’s daring each other to stop or keep going, Idon’t even know. My resolve breaks first. I crash my lips against hers, the kiss more urgent this time. She smooths her hands down to my sides and holds tight like she never wants to let go. I know the feeling.

“No,” she says, pushing herself away again, but then claws onto my chest.

“Tell me to stop.”

“No,”she snaps. “You don’t get to say that. It can’t be my responsibility.” She looks up and down the street like a criminal, checking for witnesses. Maybe that’s what we are. “You have to be the grownup here.”

I smirk. “Are you saying you’re not a grownup?”

“No, obviously, but how amIsupposed to resistyou?”

I glide my hand over her hips, around to her back, almost touching her ass. The stiffness in my member is almost too much to take. My underwear is slick with precome. My tip is ready to drive inside of her.

“And you think I can resist you?” I snarl. “How the fuck am I supposed to do that? You’re pretty. You’re gorgeous. You’re cute. You’re sexy. You’re curvy. You moan in the sexiest goddamn way. Oh, hell…”

When I kiss her again, she moans and takes a few steps back. I follow her until we come to the short incline in the sand that leads to the hedges separating the golf club. Anybody could walk around the corner at any moment, but the beach seems quiet. Does that make this okay?

Hell, no, but I do it anyway. I sit beside her on the sand, leaning over as she lies back, kissing her with more urgent fire as I slidemy hand up her leg. She gasps, leaning back slightly, nodding and shaking her head at the same time in a confused, horny-as-fuck way.

“We shouldn’t,” she whispers.

“I know, but I need to feel you come for me. I need to make your tight, wet, hole fuckingsoaked.”

I push up between her legs, rubbing her over the material of her pants. She gasps and pushes her face against my shoulder, biting down. I groan and rub her quicker, wishing we were somewhere private so I could tear off her clothes, reveal her naked slit, taste her, and tongue her until she pulses with her cream.

She squeezes her thighs around my hand, just like in my fantasy. I growl like a beast, not like a CEO, not like a best friend. I’m just an animal as I rub her faster, harder. Her hips start moving in time with my hand. It’s like she can’t help it. We forget about her brother. We forget about betrayal. We focus on the now, on the pleasure.

“Keep… watch…” she whimpers.

She’s right. Looking up and down, I see we’re still alone. This is so damn risky. I should stop us, as the so-called mature one. If anybody else saw my woman like this, fuck, I’d lose it.

---