I’ve never had such a physical reaction to a man. Not even one as hot as Cole. I want to cry. I can’t be attracted to him.He’s arrogant and rude. And I’m living in his house. Not to mention, he’s my brother’s best friend. This is going to be torture.
I fall into bed and yank the covers over my head, but it’s pointless. The image of him half-naked is branded on the backs of my eyelids. The needy ache between my legs won’t ease up, and I clench them together tightly to tame it.
Maybe Ariel was right. Maybe adult me should see exactly what I could do with a man like that.
Or maybe I should remember that some crushes are meant to stay fantasies, especially when they belong to your brother’s best friend, who clearly sees you as an obligation rather than a possibility.
4
Cole
I stand under the scalding spray of my shower, trying to wash away the tension that's been building in my shoulders all evening. But it's not just stress from practice or the upcoming season that has me wound tight.
It's Harper.
Christ, when did Brett's awkward little sister turn into... that? The way she looked earlier, padding around my apartment in those tiny shorts and a tank top that left nothing to the imagination. I'd tried not to stare, but my body had other ideas.
Every fucking curve was on display. And that mouth. That defiant, smart mouth that called me an asshole.
My cock is already painfully hard, and I’m furious. First, she fucking invaded my space, and now I can’t stop thinking about her body. But more than that, I’m furious at myself for my reaction to her. She’s Brett’s little sister.
But she’s not little anymore.
My hand moves down my body almost without conscious thought, and I hate myself for it even as I wrap my fingers around my length.
But the rational part of my brain shuts down as I stroke myself, imagining those green eyes looking up at me with want instead of irritation. I imagine what it would feel like to have those curves pressed against me.
My eyes squeeze shut, and she’s there. Behind my eyelids, it’s her hand on me. I imagine pushing her against the wet tile, her back slick, her head tipped back.
That smirk on her face wiped clean, replaced by a gasp as I slide my hands up her thighs, under those shorts. I picture her legs wrapping around my waist, her nails digging into my shoulders.
Her wet tank top would cling to her, plastered to her breasts. I imagine sucking one of those tight nipples into my mouth through the fabric. Her breathy little moans echo in my head, mingling with the sound of the shower, and my strokes get faster, rougher.
I chase my release, imagining that it’s Harper’s pussy clenching around my cock, milking every last drop from me.
The orgasm hits me like a freight train, a blinding, white-hot burst that wrings a ragged groan from me. My knees nearly buckle as I come, painting the shower floor with streaks of cum as my entire body shudders with the force of it.
For a second, there’s just the water and the ragged sound of my own breathing. Then the reality crashes down.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I just jerked off to the thought of my best friend’s little sister while she’s in the room next door. I feel like a fucking predator.
I finish washing quickly, trying to ignore the shame burning in my chest. This is exactly why housing Harper Hayes was not a good idea. One day in my space, and I'm jerking off in the shower like a teenager.
When I get out, I notice a missed call from Brett. Perfect timing. I debate ignoring it, but knowing Brett, he'll just keep calling until I answer.
“Hey,” I say, toweling off my hair.
“Hey. How's it going with Harper? Is she settling in okay?”
Guilt swarms me. “Yeah, she's fine.”
Brett laughs. “I can only imagine. She can be mouthy, but she’s got a good heart under all that attitude.”
“She’s also untidy,” I grumble, grabbing onto the complaint like a lifeline. It’s something normal to say about his sister.
He barks out a laugh. “God, yes. I don’t get it. We grew up in the same house. How is she such a slob and I’m not?” He laughs some more. “Honestly, I wish I were a fly on the wall to see you two clash. Mr. Perfect Order and Hurricane Harper.”
