Page 42 of My Brother's Best Men
I need to make it look like I just got here, like I didn’t just listen to my temporary roommate slash former crush get off. That I didn’t just get off listening to him…
Oh, fuck.
I decide now’s as good a time as ever to find something to wear for dinner tonight—and drinks, since my brother and his team are buying—so I throw my suitcase open and get on my hands on knees, pressing my thighs together to try to stifle my pulsing pussy and my orgasm aftershocks. I’ve just started pilfering through the piles of clothes I packed when the unmistakable scent of soap fills the air.
I turn to look over my shoulder, and Benny is standing there. In nothing but a towel. His dark hair is all wet and hanging in his face, and his hard, tattooed body is on full display. I can’t help the sound that escapes me, a cross between a moan and a curse.
Because fucking hell, Benny looks like sin itself.
I have a new image to add to my Benny Anderson fantasy file, for sure.
“Didn’t hear you come…in,” he says, gripping the towel.
The words echo in my brain along with the sight of him—with nothing but a towel slung seductively around his waist—and I have to fight hard to focus on finding words to speak.
“Just got here,” I lie. Benny looks me up and down almost like he doesn’t believe me, like he wants to say something but thinks better of it.
“Shower’s open if you need it,” he says, holding my gaze. My fingers grip the fabric of some piece of clothing in my suitcase, but I don’t know what it is. Nor do I care at the moment. Because all I can see is him.
“Yeah, shower sounds good,” I say, trying to catch my breath. I forcibly turn away and grab a dress, some panties, and my bra. I hold them tight to my body as I head for the bathroom, scooting past towel-wrapped Benny whose gaze follows me like a haunted painting in a library.
When I get into the bathroom, I shut the door quietly, and only then do I breathe. I turn the shower on, as hot as I can get it, hoping to wash off the lies, the secrets, and the remnants of my own arousal from my skin.
Thank God there will be drinks tonight, because I think I need one. Or two, just to get through this damn night with Benny and make it out alive.
9
BENNY
Ever since this afternoon,Sophie has been acting weird. Well, weirder than usual I guess. Maybe it’s the breakup, or maybe it’s Eli kissing her, or hell, maybe it’s Matthew and the obvious hearts in his eyes every time she walks in the room, I don’t know.
But I can’t help but feel like it’s something I did. Except, I know it’s selfish and crazy to think Sophie’s moods have anything to do with me. Obviously.
“You just about ready in there, princess?” I ask, knocking on the door. I swear she’s been in there for hours at this point and I’m starting to get concerned.
“Yeah, be out in a sec,” she says, and I take the moment to look over my outfit. Black dress pants and a black and red silk button-down with chili peppers on it.
One of my exes got it for me because she said I was “spicy” like one of the characters in her books, and though it’s not my favorite print, I know it was pricey because it’s pure silk.
And honestly, I don’t have a ton of dressy shit in my closet. My daily wardrobe consists of black T-shirts, black jeans, and either my Converses or my studded boots if it’s nippy out. Nice thing about owning your own tattoo shop is you can wear whatever the fuck you want when you’re the damn boss, and I like it that way.
I also like being the only employee, though Eli says I should hire some help. But I reason that it would take more energy and time for me to train someone, and why bother when I can just do it myself?
The door opens behind me and I see her in the mirror first. I turn around, looking at the stunning creature before me.
Her hair is pulled back behind her shoulders, some thick, highlighted tendrils framing her round, perfect face. Dark black eye liner frames her eyes, her lashes full and thick. She smiles, her lips pouty and shimmering with fresh gloss as she takes her bottom lip between her teeth and I have to resist the urge to groan because fuck…
I swear every time she does that I feel my cock harden and start to leak.
It also makes me want to bite that lip with my own teeth and show her who’s boss around here, but I know I need to rein it in.
That’s never going to happen.
Not because I don’t want it to, but because contrary to popular belief, I know my boundaries. I know where I stand with Sophie. I also know pursuing Sophie, even if she is single, on a whirlwind vacation fresh from a breakup with her brother’s wedding on the horizon, is a bad fucking idea.
But the problem with me is, I love bad ideas.
Bad ideas are always the most fun…
