Never Marry Your Brother's Best Friend (Never Say Never, #1)

I feel the pressure and realize that this is no dream. I’m wide awake and completely confused. “Carter—”

“You have to help me, Luna,” he says, his voice low and rough and desperate . . . and sexy as fuck. “Please.”

The plea in his voice strikes directly into my heart. “Yeah, sure. Whatever you need.”

I don’t know what I’m agreeing to, but it can’t be worse than what I’ve already done. Right? And I’m pretty sure there’s a rule about disagreeing with crazy people when they have ahold of you. As in, don’t do it.

“Really?” He shakes me a little bit, lifting me to my toes. My hands find their way to his stomach, pressing for balance as I look up at him. There’s a spark of electricity in the space between us.



“Of course?” The questions are bubbling up, but I don’t have a chance to ask.

“Yes . . .” The word of relief becomes a breath as his lips meet mine. It’s so much like my dreams that I fall into it at first.

He tastes like beer and bad decisions. Especially when his mouth moves against mine and his hands move from their squeezing grip on my arms to a gentle caress of my jaw, keeping my face tilted up to him as he moves me the way he wants to.

But this is real.

I should stop him. Deep down, I know that this is a bad idea for so many reasons.

But Carter Harrington is a good kisser. I was definitely right about that, and that’s enough to make any reasonable thought fade away given how pent up I am and how, despite my stubborn avoidance and denial, this has been coming since that first night of tutoring.

So I kiss him back, hoping I’m half as talented as he is. Hell, I’d settle for a quarter as good, considering the difference in experience between the two of us.

But I don’t need practice to know that the heat building in my core is fierier than any I’ve ever felt. I take the opportunity to answer my own earlier question and lick along his jawline, the blonde stubble prickling my tongue, and then place an open-mouthed kiss to the side of his neck when he lets his head fall to the side. I feel the pulsing of his heartbeat in his throat and I answer with a moan of my own.

It’s the last bit of control Carter lets me have. He lifts me in a swoop that makes my stomach flip and sets me on the counter, pressing my legs open to accommodate him between my knees. Before I can say a word, he returns to kissing the stuffing out of me.

I whimper when his hand encircles my neck, not squeezing but just letting me know he’s there and in charge. “Do you like that?” he groans against my mouth. “My good girl, Luna?”

A sound of needy hunger is all the agreement I can make, but it’s not enough for him.

“Tell me.” He kisses my cheek, a soft press of his lips that contrasts with the squeeze of his hand. “Tell me,” he repeats, his breath hot on my ear, and then he nips my lobe with his teeth.

“Y–y–yes.” If he’d been looking me in the eye, I don’t know if I would’ve been able to admit that. But with the tip of his tongue teasing over the shell of my ear, I couldn’t lie if I wanted to. He rewards me with another kiss, and his free hand grips my hip, squeezing the flesh there more sharply than my neck, and I squirm, delighting in his touch.

“You like it rough? Want me to bend you over this counter and take you from behind with one hand on your ass and one on your throat while I slam into your pussy?” He lays sweet kisses over my face as he asks the filthy question, painting a picture I won’t soon forget.

It reminds me of the way he spoke when we faked sex, and it sounds amazing, sexy and wonderful. But I’ve never done that, and I need a second to think.

“I–I–I don’t know?”

That’s not the answer Carter’s looking for, and the moment of craziness breaks. His hand gentles on my throat as he presses his forehead to mine, moving his head left to right as though he can’t believe he kissed me.

“You’re a lifesaver.” He sighs, the tension palpable between us.

“I am?” I whisper, wishing he were still kissing me. Which is weird because I don’t even like Carter Harrington. At least not in that way.

But my body sure does. I’m vibrating with heat and want.

His thumbs brushes over my cheeks, and he pulls away, leaving warm traces on my skin that tingle without his touch. His hands run through his hair, mussing the strands even more, and his eyes take on the desperate glint once again as the haze of our kiss fades.

“It’s all fucked up. So fucked. And I need your help, Luna. You said you’ll help.”

He’s desperately reminding me, as though I haven’t been paying attention since he came in. “I will, but with what? What’s going on?”

“You’re not gonna believe this. I still don’t.” He tells me about his day at work and how his dad has taken over wooing Elena Cartwright for Blue Lake Assets.

“That’s your contract, though.” I’m defending him as though I’ll benefit in some way from his getting the deal with Elena.

“I know, but nobody argues with Dad. He thinks he’s doing the right thing. I spent the whole evening going over it, looking for any way around him or a way I could get Elena to sign without a family dinner. But there’s no way.” He shakes his head vacantly, his mind not here in the kitchen with me but likely going over the options he’s already considered and rejected.

“Now what?” I ask, trying to fill in this very unclear picture. “Do you need to call Elena?”

His eyes meet mine and he says flatly, “I did.” Adding in a high-pitched voice I think is supposed to be Elena, he says, “She was completely delighted to be invited to dinner, said she’s looking forward to meeting the man in charge of Blue Lake, and the fella who taught me how to work an investment portfolio.” He shrugs, blinking as he does so. “I didn’t tell her that I learned a lot from Dad, but it was really Professor Malkin in college who taught me the most about diversified portfolios.”

“So she’s coming to dinner. That’s good, isn’t it?”

I’m trying to keep up with his manic switches from ranting to kissing me and back to ranting, while consciously ignoring the heat between my legs. Carter stops pacing and pins me with a hard stare. “She said she’s looking forward to dinner with us again. Us, as in you and me.”

Finally, I realize why he’s freaking out because I begin freaking out worse than he is. I hop down from the counter, brushing past Carter as I look for an escape that my small apartment doesn’t provide. “No way, nope, nuh-uh, not doing that again.”

“You have to. You already said you’d help me,” he informs me, seemingly thinking I’ve forgotten my response from mere minutes ago.

Trust me, bucko. I won’t be forgetting anything about tonight.