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

“I wasn’t that kind of bad. I hate to admit it, but I was a douchebag. Entitled, didn’t understand hard work . . . lived like the world was my oyster, and I treated it like an all you can eat buffet. Dad warned me about friends, girls, and shit I was doing.” I slip my hands a little higher, working her ankles and up to her calves even as I remind myself, “That’s why I was glad when I met Zack. He’s the real deal. Smart, loyal, creative. I could see what my dad was talking about then, the difference in good people and how they can change everything. Zack helped me grow up.”


“He’s an okay brother,” she agrees. “He was too old to look out for me at school when I was younger, but he helped me learn that I’m okay exactly how I am. Kids would bully me because I’m weird. The teacher would be up at the board, and I’d be staring off into space, totally in my own world, not hearing a thing she said. But when she’d call on me, I could glance at the board and give the right answer. Stuff like that made other kids mad. And that was before I got into art. Then, I always had paint on my cheeks, charcoal under my nails, and was working on my tablet at a rapid-fire pace most people couldn’t understand. But my brain could. If I could get my fingers to move faster to keep up with my mind, I would’ve. I could look at the blank page and see what it would be, what I could help it become.” Her fingers twitch reflexively as she talks, and I wonder if she’s subconsciously drawing.

“Zack told me that he was like that . . . only with me. He could see what I would be.”

My hands have a mind of their own too, kneading and tracing over Luna’s knees and under the hem of her dress. “Luna?”

She opens her eyes, looking at me clear-eyed and focused. Her legs shift open the slightest bit, giving me greater access to her thighs and ultimately, to her core. The scent of her arousal fills my nostrils, and I have to hold myself back from diving into the source of that sweetness.

“Tell me to stop. I’m not strong enough to do it myself.” I’ve already asked so much of her, and now I’m asking more. Not for me this time, but for her.

She smiles a tiny smile of rebellion. “Don’t stop.”

I should stop anyway, but I don’t. I tell myself I’ll go a little further . . . that’s it. Nothing too bad, I vow, measuring my own wickedness by the inches of Luna’s leg I can see. I shift so I can knead the flesh of her inner thighs, working her dress higher and higher, almost immediately breaking my own promise.

Goosebumps break out over her skin, and I tease a fingertip over them. “Cold?”

She bites her lip, shaking her head. “Hot. So hot.” Her hips writhe beneath my touch. “Please . . .”

“Please what? More? Stop? Harder? Tell me, Luna. Tell me what you want,” I command, my voice a rough whisper.

“More. Harder. Touch me, please.” Luna begging me to touch her is nothing I would’ve expected. It’s a beautiful and powerful motivator, and I do exactly what she’s demanded of me.

Finding the side of her panties, I pull them down and off her legs in an effortless swoop before urging her legs open. The sight that I behold is unlike anything I’ve seen before.

“Fucking gorgeous,” I tell her as I see her pink, puffy pussy for the first time. I want to touch her, taste her, mark her until that pussy knows who it belongs to. The urge is more caveman than I usually experience, but something about Luna is bringing up primal desires I’ve never had. I want to possess her, care for her . . . and I haven’t even laid a hand on her heaven yet.

I’m so fucked.

Using my thumbs to spread her smooth lips, I gather her juices and smear them up to her clit.

A few small circles there and Luna is already working her hips in time with me. I slip two fingers inside her easily, curling them up to pet her inner walls. “There,” she murmurs. “Right there.”

Goddamn, Luna telling me what she likes is the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. I keep up the strokes, doing just what she asks until she starts panting with a little cry on every exhale. “I’m gonna . . . Can I come?”

Luna asking the same question in that bed at Elena’s flashes through my mind, and a dark thought follows it. I press her hips down hard, preventing her from bucking into my hand. “No. Not yet, not till I say you can.”

Her eyes pop open, looking at me in shock. We’re both frozen for a moment, locked in a silent battle to see if she’s going to give in. I stroke that spot inside her, slowly and gently, to encourage her, and a fresh wash of clear fluid coats my hand.

“That’s it. Let me see what your body can do. Show me.” I swallow thickly as I begin stroking into her harder . . . deeper . . . faster, matching my pace with swipes over her clit. “Show me what a good girl you are.”

She cries out as her eyes roll back and her head tosses back and forth, setting her glasses off-kilter. She’s coming undone before my very eyes and I want more of it . . . more of her.

Watching her closely, I find the rhythm that she responds to best and push her higher and higher, then back off. She does her best to hold out, but too quickly, she’s asking, “I need to . . . Can I?”

It’s not enough. “Can you what? Say it. I want to hear you.”

She’s gone to pleasure, riding the edge so close it might as well be a blade. “Can I come, sir?” she gasps.

“Yes. Fuck, I want to see you wild, Luna. Come now.”

The orgasm takes her flying before the words leave my mouth, and I watch, awestruck, as she sings for me with complete abandon. I keep talking, saying dirty things she seems to like, as I tease her clit and feel the pulsing waves of her pussy squeezing my fingers.

“More. You . . . I want you,” she pants, wiggling her fingers toward me.

This is a bad idea. Maybe the worst. But I don’t have to be told twice. I’m damn near about to spill in my pants.

Quickly, I rip my shirt off, not undoing the buttons but instead pulling it over my head in a rush, and then shove my pants and underwear down my thighs, freeing my leaking cock. I dive for the end table, opening a drawer to grab a condom. I give myself a rough stroke before donning the latex, and then I lean over Luna, one arm on the couch cushion beneath her and one at the base of my dick.

“Tell me you want this. Want me. I need to hear you say it.”

“Yes,” she moans.

It’s not what I asked, but it’s enough because I’ve reached the end of my control. I enter her in one thrust, and her pussy envelops me so well that I nearly come right then. But I won’t be a one-pump chump, not now, not ever. So I fight my orgasm back, doing what I asked her to do and hold on longer for it to be better.

Luna’s back arches as she wraps her hands around my upper arms, her fingernails digging into the backs of my triceps. Her walls flutter again, and I want to help her ride out what seems to be another smaller orgasm.

I stroke into her powerfully. “That’s it. Come on my cock, baby.”

“I am. I am, Carter.”

“Shit,” I hiss. Any remaining thread of control I had snaps instantly when she says my name, and I fuck Luna. I fuck her harder and more thoroughly than I should. There’s no gentle kindness now, no sweet touches. It’s rough and hard as I take her body, and she gives it all to me.