The Other Brother (Binghamton #4)

“I’ve missed you.” I search his eyes, still in disbelief that he’s here. “What are you doing here?”

A large smile spreads over his face. “I have an interview in an hour.”

“Are you serious?” When he nods, I can’t contain my excitement. I hop into his arms and wrap my legs around his waist. I capture his face in my hands and stare at him as his hands cup my ass. “Oh my God! You have an interview.”

“I have an interview,” he repeats, his words like music to my ears.

“Ahh! This is so exciting.” I press my lips briefly against his. “How long will you be here?”

His face falls. “I have to drive back tonight for work tomorrow morning.”

My elation is quickly squandered and I drop to my feet. “Really?”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He cups my face. “But my interview won’t take very long. I’ll be done when you get out for the day so I plan on spending every minute with you until I have to leave.”

“Every minute?”

He smirks and runs his hand up the back of my dress until he finds my thong-covered ass. He quietly moans as he bites on his bottom lip. “Fuck, every damn minute.”

He lowers his lips to mine where he lightly kisses me, his hands gripping my ass, and his erection pressing against my stomach. Pretty sure he shouldn’t have an erection on school campus, but hell, I shouldn’t be rubbing myself up against him either.

We spend the next few minutes talking about his interview, holding hands, and smiling like fools at each other. This is exactly what I needed, a re-charge, a reminder of where my heart belongs.

***

Five years ago . . .

“Where is he?” I try to stand on the toes of my platform heels but can’t see over the crowd. “He said he would be here.”

“He will be, relax and try to have some fun. It’s your birthday, after all.”

“I know, but I didn’t want to come out. We should have stayed home, because he would have been more comfortable hanging out.”

Amanda places her hand on my shoulder. “Relax, he’ll be here. He wouldn’t miss your birthday.”

I press my lips together, wishing we did something else for my birthday. Staying home, playing games, and eating cake would have been just fine with me but Amanda insisted on dressing up and going out like we used to. Aaron wasn’t the kind of guy who went to clubs to dance, and now that he’s half an hour late, I’m nervous he’s not going to show up.

Amanda is distracted by some of our friends, so I take a quick peek at my phone to see if I missed any message. Hmm, nothing. Where could he be? I adjust the short, skin-tight dress Amanda insisted I wear and make sure I’m not showing nipples. It has a keyhole front that looks amazing on Amanda but since my boobs are twice the size of hers, I’m about to pop out of this dress.

“Want another drink?” Amanda asks while leaning over to me. “I’m going to the bar.”

I glance down at my melted, watered-down vodka cranberry. “I’m good for now.”

Amanda sighs and lifts my chin. “Try to have some fun, sweetie.”

It’s hard when the one person I want here is nowhere to be found. Amanda retreats for the bar as I sit back in my seat and cross my arms over my chest.

This is stupid.

I don’t even want to be here.

I should leave.

I purse my lips and on a whim, decide to leave. It’s my birthday, I can do what I want. I grab my purse and start to stand from the booth we secured in the back of the club when a tall shadow blocks me from the bright, strobing lights of the dance floor.

“Leaving so soon?”

I would know that voice anywhere, because it’s the voice both that puts me to sleep and wakes me in the morning. Extreme joy wraps around me as I look up only to have my breath catch in my throat.

Aaron is standing before me wearing a pair of dark jeans that hug his long legs, a navy-blue button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the top two buttons undone, showing off his bronze, corded chest. His hair is messy and to the side, and his beautiful eyes sparkle as he holds one single daisy out to me.

Swallowing hard, I take the daisy as he slips into the booth next to me, placing his arm around my back and taking me in. His eyes hungrily roam my body, spending a lot of time at the keyhole of my dress. When his eyes meet mine, he says, “Fuck, baby. You look so goddamn good.”

I set the daisy on the table in front of us and place my hands on his chest, my fingers trailing along his exposed skin. “You’re here,” I say quietly.

“Of course I am.” One of his hands plays with my hair as he speaks softly to me, so we can barely hear each other over the music. “I wouldn’t miss your birthday.”

“But you’re late.”

He nods. “I know, I’m sorry. I had something I had to take care of with my mom.” He cringes. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

“Is everything okay?”

He smiles lazily, scanning me up and down again. “Everything is perfect.” He turns to the dance floor and takes my hand. “Want to dance, beautiful?”

Shocked, actually ashamed I had Aaron pegged wrong, I nod.

He guides me to the dance floor, his hand wrapped tightly around mine, and when we reach the bumpers and grinders who are already feeling the beat of the music, Aaron spins me toward him so my back is pressed against his chest and his arms are wrapped under my breasts. He leans over and whispers into my ear as he starts to move his body with mine.

Oh God, he’s a good dancer.

“That dress is dangerous, Amelia.”

“Amanda made me wear it,” I say as he starts to kiss my neck. My pulse skyrockets, and in a matter of seconds, my nipples press against the thin fabric of the dress.

“Remind me to write Amanda a thank you note.”

As we dance together, rocking, bumping, grinding, we become lost in the feel of each other’s bodies. Without caring who’s watching, he roams his hands all over me, over my hips, my stomach, my breasts . . .

He touches me as if we’re the only ones on the dance floor, and it’s intoxicating. I grip the back of his neck, never wanting to let go as he squeezes one of my breasts, his fingers barely pinching my nipple. I moan and grind against his crotch, feeling his erection.

“Fuck, baby.”

Needing his lips on mine, I turn in his grip and bring his head to my mouth where he captures my lips, not holding back. Twisting, thrusting, lapping, our tongues race against each other, our lips molding, our bodies on fire as Aaron walks us to the back of the dance floor until I feel the wall against me. With one easy swoop, Aaron lifts me so I’m straddling his waist and my back is against the wall. I grip around him with my legs, making sure I have a firm grasp just as my heated center connects with his enticingly hard cock.

“Yes,” I moan, as he starts to kiss up and down my neck, pulsing his hips against mine with the music, igniting every nerve in my body. Not caring where we are, I pull on the small strands of his hair, egging him on, knowing he will break just like me.

Pulsating a little harder, hitting me right where I need him, I moan even louder.

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