Page 11 of Wrong Number, Right Grumpy Brother’s Best Friend

I make a squeak, helpless and high, shuddering as he presses his palm against my clit.

“You’re going to ruin me,” he growls, and I kiss him to shut him up.

He grabs my ass with his free hand and yanks me forward, hips slamming up to meet me. His cock is a steel rod, trapped in denim, and I can’t stop myself from rolling against it, faster, harder, chasing sweet oblivion.

His hand rakes up my spine, tangles in my hair, and pulls just enough to make me gasp. My head falls backward, exposing my neck. He nips and bites until I’m squealing, my breath coming in ragged gasps. When he starts unbuttoning my jeans, I freeze for a heartbeat, nerves raging like fire ants under my skin.

“This okay?” he asks, his eyes dark.

I nod, because the words won’t come.

He pops the button, then slowly drags the zipper down tooth by tooth. It’s pure, delicious torture. Air bites at my hips as he shoves the waistband down, exposing the soft skin just above my panties. He hooks a finger underneath, and traces along the seam, teasing me until I’m coming undone from the anticipation alone.

He pushes his own jeans down, enough to free himself, and I see it—God, I feel it, hot and heavy and huge, bobbing between us. My mouth goes dry. I want it. All of him. My hand shakes as I wrap it around the base, thumb stroking the vein along the underside. He hisses, hips jolting upward so hard that I nearly lose my balance.

“Fuck,” he swears, then pulls me forward, guiding me over him. But the denim is in the way.

He lifts me, strong hands under my thighs, and flops me onto my back across the bench seat. I laugh as my head dings the passenger door, and then he’s tugging my jeans and panties down, dragging them over my knees, leaving me bare-assed and spread-eagled in the cab. The cool seat is a shock, but his hand is hot as he runs it up the inside of my thigh, stopping just short of where I need him.

I pant, desperate. “Brian. Please.”

He kneels on the seat, between my legs, and lowers his head. I think he’s going to finger me, but instead he just breathes in, nose grazing my skin, his stubble rough against my thigh. His tongue licks a single stripe up the length of me, slow and deliberate, and my whole body arches off the vinyl.

“Holy—” I gasp.

He takes his time, torturing me, teasing me with gentle licks and then sudden, intense sucks, tongue curling perfectly around my clit. I grab at his shoulders, nails leaving little crescents, the sensation building and building until I think I might break in half. He slides two fingers inside me, curling just right, hitting the spot that makes me see stars.

The sounds coming from my throat are anything but sexy or lady like, and I don’t give a rat’s ass. Because this is what I want, what I need.

I twist my nipples, pinching them hard, the pain a perfect echo of the pleasure at my core. He keeps going, doesn’t stop, not even when my legs start to shake or when I try to push his head away. He wraps an arm around my thigh to hold me still, and his mouth, God, his mouth, I can’t even—

“I’m—” I gasp, but he already knows.

He hums against my clit, vibrations electric, and I come so hard, clamping down on his fingers, whole body spasming like I’ve been hit by lightning. The windows fog over, the whole world narrowing to the tiny, perfect point where his mouth meets my body. He keeps licking, gentler now, riding out every aftershock, until I’m spent and gasping and too raw to move.

When I finally open my eyes, he’s watching me, lips slick, eyes wild.

“Fuck,” he says, and I laugh, because there’s nothing else to do.

He crawls over the seat, careful not to crush me, and kisses me. I tangle my fingers in his hair, pull him close, and whisper in his ear:

“Your turn.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Brian

My cock presses against her thigh, and my jeans have a strangle hold on my balls. There’s barely room to breathe, let alone move my ass. But Lynn’s insistent and so is the big guy between my legs.

She hooks her thumbs through my belt loops and shimmies my jeans over my ass. I hope like hell no one passes by and sees my ass in the air. But one look at Lynn and her satisfied grin tells me it would all be worth it.

I pull her onto my lap and she hovers above me, straddling my thighs, her breasts swaying. She reaches for my cock, wraps her hands around it, and guides me to her slick center. She sinks down slowly, and I push inside, stretching and filling her. Sweat builds along my greedy brow, and for a second, she holds still.

Our eyes lock, and it’s surreal. What I’ve waited for, wanted the most, is becoming a reality.

She moves first, slowly before building into a rhythm. I meet her thrust for thrust, rocking the whole truck. She claws at my shoulders, and moans. When she arches her back and grinds against me, I know she’s close.

I grab her hips and slam into her, faster, deeper. I nuzzle her neck and groan, trying to hold back my release.