Page 5 of Faking It with my Bestie's Billionaire Brother

Would that short temper of his translate into passion in the bedroom? He looked like he would be controlling, and as annoying as that behavior was from him on a regular basis, it could be hot in bed. "Mm." I moaned softly. "Yes, sir."

I started rubbing myself more furiously as I thought about him in between my thighs, giving me that look of censure as he instructed me on how to please him, all the while he pleased me with his long, skilled fingers, taking arrogant satisfaction at the way I writhed so wildly beneath his fingers' ministrations.

I could almost feel the strong arms wrap around me as they had in the hallway, clutching me close like he wouldn't let me go. And it was that specific memory that made my orgasm overtake me suddenly and surprisingly. "Fuck," I bit out, my heart pounding in my ears.

I leaned my forehead against the shower wall as I tried to catch my breath from the intensity of my orgasm, the shock of the cold tiles in the midst of all that heat bringing me back to reality.

I washed off, waiting for my heart to slow before I got out of the shower and toweled off. That was when I faced myself in the mirror. "All right, Moretti," I told my reflection, "Penny is right, time to put yourself out there."

It had to be. I had just come to the idea of my best friend's much older brother who I didn’t get along with, after all. Not only that, it had been the hardest I'd come in possibly ever.

Penny was probably right in that I'd been closed off for too long, and my loneliness had finally gotten the better of me. There was no way a sane Ava would be masturbating to Spencer Ashbury. No way.

And there’s no way I would be spending any more of my precious time thinking about that man, I thought to myself as I grabbed a sketchbook and proceeded to sketch out a new rendering of his infuriatingly beautiful face.

Chapter four

Spencer

There was a very serious chance that the company I was responsible for, along with all of the family secrets I'd been shielding, was about to implode.

So, why was I standing at my kitchen counter, stirring creamer into my coffee for five minutes straight and thinking about Ava Moretti, of all people?

There was just something about her that was so frustrating and so fucking sexy at the same time. She’d always kind of gotten on my nerves, but I’d never let myself entertain the notion that maybe there was more to my irritation with her. To be truthful, I hadn’t let anyone distract me from my appointed rounds… until now.

When my baby sister was giving her impassioned speech about how she wanted me to find some companionship, I seriously doubted that she would approve of me thinking that way about her best friend. I mean, for God's sake, technically, I was old enough to be Ava's father if I had been a young Dad. I didn't have any business thinking about the faint splash of freckles I had glimpsed across the bridge of her nose when I caught her that afternoon.

I never thought freckles could turn me on this damn much, but somehow, they fit her, making her look like a mouthy sprite.

I finally realized what I was doing and looked down at my now cool coffee. "Shit," I muttered to myself. I needed a cold shower and to get my head in the game. There was too much going on to be distracted by big, brown eyes and a teasing smile.

I dumped the coffee into the sink when I heard a pounding at my door. I lived in a very expensive high-rise. The doorman didn't let just anybody up, much less somebody who was liable to pound instead of knock.

I stomped over to the door, yanking it open, ready to give whoever it was a piece of my mind, but before I could get any words out, there was my lawyer pushing past me like he had every right to. "My goodness, my boy, you have really stepped in it now. As if we didn't have enough on our plate."

I looked at Ralph, who had been around since I was a small child. I had watched his face grow more wrinkled with each year, and what used to be salt-and pepper hair was now completely white. Still, beneath all that bluster were the same kind-eyes I'd looked to time and time again. They were often the only kind eyes in the midst of the storm that was my father.

I closed the door behind me. "It's nice to see you, too, Ralph. Now, kindly, what the hell are you going on about?"

Ralph pulled his phone from his jacket pocket, flipping it over so I could see the screen. It was one of those social media apps, and there was a picture of me holding Ava in my arms with little animated hearts bubbling up around our heads.

"What the hell is that?"

"That's what I want to know," Ralph said. "This picture is just one of hundreds of shares. You're falling under #HotTeacher and #GettingBusyInTheHallway, whatever the hell that means."

"That's Ava," I said before I could stop myself. "She's Penny's best friend…and a teacher at the academy, obviously."

Ralph squeezed his eyes shut and let out a long sigh. "That's even worse."

I tore my eyes away from the screen of his phone, not wanting to admit to myself just yet that there was something mesmerizing about the picture.

Those damn kids. Great, now I’m sounding like a Scooby Doo villain. It really has been a shitty day.

"I'll admit that it's not the most appealing picture of me, but I do think you're overreacting a bit here." I moved past him towards the couch.

He turned his face, his eyes, wide with shock, tracking my every movement. "Don't you get it? You've been found in a compromising position by children, not to mention with one of your employees."

I sent him an incredulous look. "To start with, she's Penny's employee. Secondly, she tripped and fell, and I caught her. There's nothing salacious about any of that."

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