Page 40 of Crushing On My Brothers BFF

“It doesn’t matter if it’s over,” her friend says.

I almost punch the wall.It’s not fucking over, but it is. We have to end it.

“Exactly,” Sophie says, sighing. “Anyway, I’m going to go. I just want to sleep.”

“Okay, hon. Love ya.”

“Love you.”

I walk across the living room, getting away from the wall. I shouldn’t be eavesdropping on her. I shouldn’t even be thinking about her, but I can’t stop thinking about her in bed, maybe wearing a tank top again, her nipples poking through, perhaps lying on her front so I can get a good look at her round ass from behind.

I’m a piece of shit. I return to the living room wall and put my ear against it, but she’s not saying anything anymore. I can vaguely hear a lecture playing, but that’s it. I go into the bedroom, shut the door, and lie on the bed. Barely a second later, my dick’s in my hand.

I should be thinking about the interview tomorrow. We’re doing it with an entertainment network. It’s going to be broadcast live on their social media. Something about making this connection with Sophie has me feeling wild and reckless. Young, full of optimism. This can work.Wecan make it work.

My mind takes me to tomorrow, to the dressing room. Sophie is bent over a vanity unit with her pants pulled down to reveal her plump ass. She bounces it for me, her curviness jiggling in the hottest way. I’m stroking myself hard, fast, as I think about gliding my tip between her thighs and to her entrance. She’ll take every fucking inch all in one thrust, her walls squeezing my balls, her?—

Is that knocking? I sit up. Yep, it is. My cock is rock hard. It’s a struggle to pull my pants back on. My dick bounces up and down as I walk through the apartment and go to the door.

“Yeah?”

Knock-knock-knock.

No, it’s coming from theconnectingdoor. My dick was getting soft, and now it floods with heat again. I go to the connecting door.

“Sophie?”

“I’ve got an email. I think it’s fromthem.”

I open the door immediately. I know who she’s talking about—the people who sent her the crush video. Oh,fuck. I should slam the door right in her face.

She’s standing there in a baggy T-shirt with aTaxi Driverprint on it and nothing else. Well, shorts, but they’reshort. It looks like she’s naked from the waist down at certain angles so that when I make her wet, her juices will slide down her thighs.

She knows what I’m thinking. I can read it in the redness of her face, her mouth slightly open. Her eyes move to my groin, then snap back to my face. If she bites her lip now, I won’t be able to resist. I might not even kiss her. Just grab her shoulders and spin her around, drive my solidness against her ass.

She hands me her phone. “Look…” Our hands brush. Energy sparks between us, hot and inviting.

I read the email.Tomorrow, during the interview, you will say that Kaleb Kennison paid you to throw that woman’s phone. If you don’t, we release the video.

“I’ll call the security firm,” I tell her. “Give them the email address. Maybe they can trace it.”

“What are we going to do?” she says anxiously, following me into my suite. Naturally, without discussing it, we walk into the living room. She sits opposite me, and… oh,hell. She has to be doingthis on purpose. She’s not wearing a bra, her big tits outlined beneath the fabric.

“I don’t know,” I reply.

“If I say that, everybody will think you’re the bad guy. They’ll think you’re just another grimy billionaire. This whole PR thing will fail. The company will lose money. People will lose their jobs.”

“If you don’t say it,” I growl, “the whole world will see that video, including Paul.”

“So you want me to tank your company, do you?” she snaps.

I groan. “Let me call the firm. Get them on the case.”

After handling the call—pacing as I talk, with Sophie wrapping a hairband around her wrist—I sit down again. “They’ve tracked the memory drive to a courier service.”

“How did they do that?”

“The specific type of envelope used, apparently,” I reply.

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