Page 40 of The Bad Brother

I feel angry that someone I trusted could betray me so easily but if I’m being honest, while there is plenty left over for Ethan and the woman who spent three years calling herself my best friend, the majority of my anger is aimed at myself for not seeing them for who they really are before they got the better of me.

And I feel relief because the one kindness Ethan did me was show his true colors before I made the ultimate mistake of actually marrying him.

If all that cost me is a condo, a few designer dresses, some jewelry, and a pair of Louboutins, I count myself lucky, and it’s something I refuse to feel ashamed about.

Heartbroken?

Not in the slightest.

I had sex for the first time at a college party when I was twenty years old. Completely sober, I walked through the door with one objective—lose my virginity.

It took me less than an hour to find someone suitable and another twenty minutes to get it done. He was kind and respectful. When he realized I was a virgin, he actually tried to talk me out of it. While we were getting dressed, he asked if he could call me. Maybe take me out for coffee sometime. I said sure, gave him the number for my favorite Chinese take-out place, and left.

We saw each other around campus occasionally but we never spoke. Just gave each other casual, polite smiles as we passed each other on our way to our prospective classes. I don’t even remember his name.

After that it was a brief affair with my anatomy lab partner in med school. It lasted the semester. When we got back from winter break, he hinted that he’d like to start things back up but I declined, citing how intense the upcoming semester—my last—was going to be as my reason. The truth was, that while fun, I’d grown bored with the affair and didn’t see the benefit of starting it back up.

After that, there was no one until Ethan.

I’m suddenly sure that if that kind, respectful frat boyhad shoved me against a wall and told me to rub myself on his leg while whispering dirty words in my ear, I’d have given him my real number. If the med student I slept with for a few months had wrapped his hand around my throat while he made me listen to the filthy sounds my pussy made while he fucked me, I’d have probably followed him home for Christmas and camped out on his doorstep. And if Ethan had given even the slightest amount of fucks about making me come or if the things I let him do to me actually felt good, I would’ve happily choked on his cock whenever he wanted me to.

Not that I owe Jensen Barrett an explanation. Nothing I could possibly say would change that man’s opinion of me so any effort would be a waste of time. He made it clear that he’s perfectly capable of hating my guts and giving me mind-blowing orgasms, all at the same time. Just as capable as I am of thinking he’s an insufferable, judgmental asshole while still hoping that wasn’t the last time he puts his hands on me.

Look at yourself… so desperate to come you’re fucking my leg.

Never in my life have I ever done something so impulsive. Given in so completely. One second, we were fighting and I threatened to zap him in the balls with my stun gun and the next, I’m shamelessly rubbing myself against him like a cat in heat. Begging him to fuck me. To come inside me.

Do you hear that? How wet your filthy pussy is for me. That’s how desperate you are for my cum.

My body has never made those sounds before. I’ve never been so aroused. So desperate to feel someone moving inside me. To be fucked. Used. Just the memory ofit sends aftershocks of what was undoubtedly the best orgasm I’ve ever had, rocketing down my spine.

It's okay, Peach. I won’t tell anyone… it’ll be our little secret.

A part of me hopes he was lying. A part of me hopes Jensen tells someone and that someone tells someone andthatsomeone tells someone until the fact that I give so little shits about him that I fucked my hot new landlord two weeks after he broke up with me and that it was the best sex of my life, somehow reaches Ethan and that his head explodes. The thought is a happy one and it sends me off to sleep.

I WAKE UP WITH A START, THE SOUND OF Adoor closing, echoing in my ears. Not an angry slam like last night. A crisp click that pulls me upright and leaves me wide-eyed and blinking while I look around the room. I’m alone and the heat of the sun streaming through the windows on my face tells me it’s mid-morning.

Still looking around the room, I stand, the movement pushing a warm, not completely unpleasant soreness between my legs, while images of last night shuffle through my brain. Hearing Jensen in that hallway outside my front door while I was doing dishes in my underwear. Threatening him with my stun gun.

How easily he took it away.

How much being pinned against the wall by him turned me on.

There’s only one way I want to make you scream…

Turning toward the dining room table, I feel my breathstall in my lungs when I spot the sweatshirt I abandoned in the hallway, folded neatly on the edge of it. On top of it is my stun gun.

What isn’t there are all the things that I assume belonged to Jensen’s fiancé that I gathered and boxed up. A vague recollection of him sweeping it all off the table after carrying me inside pulls my gaze to the floor. It’s not there either. It’s all gone.

Realization dawning, I lower myself down to the couch again on shaky legs. Perched on the edge of it, I reach for the coffee table drawer in front of me and open it. The framed photograph of Jensen and the woman I assume is his ex is gone. So is the engagement ring.

I haven’t been with anyone since she left…

Shame stinging my cheeks, I slowly close the open drawer and stand so I can go upstairs to get ready for my shift at the hospital.

AS SOON AS I CALMED DOWN, I REALIZEDwhat a huge mistake I made.

I fucked Sloane without a condom. That monumental slip-up could be chalked up to losing my head in the heat of the moment—my DNA alone doesn’t prove assault.

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