Don't Date Your Brother's Best Friend

She wrapped her arms around my neck and lifted her face to mine.

“That’s good to know. Right now, I want you to kiss me.”

15

Sarah Jo

Nothing had ever made me feel as wanted or as special as those words. Luke Maddox wanted me and nobody else. He’d said it so matter-of-factly like it was obvious, like why would I ever think he’d want anything other than for us to be together? His arms around me comforted me, made me feel cherished and guarded. The curve of muscle in his shoulders, the strong, thick arms around me gave evidence of grueling workouts. Without even indulging of a fantasy of him rescuing me from a fire, there was a lot there to unpack. Not just the brother’s best friend part that was a little forbidden, but also the brave hero angle where he’s a firefighter who risks his life. It was more than that, so much beyond that superficial attraction as his hands curved down my back to my hips.

I felt my body relax, melt almost under his touch. Instead of growing tense or trying to hold in my stomach or pose attractively, I felt like every movement was natural. He was kissing me, his mouth rocking against mine in slow, sensuous nips and strokes of his tongue. A spark kindled somewhere around my belly, and I felt my skin heat. It was more than possible that I loved him already.

When I stroked his face and neck, I wondered what he thought of my callouses, the way my hands were dry, and the skin roughened from working with lumber and tools all day. They had been a bit softer when I was at school, although when I was there, I forever had a crescent-moon of dirt under my nails. Now my nails were clean but bitten short. My palms were as coarse as his own were. I felt a moment of self-consciousness. I should have used hand lotion. I should have bought under-eye concealer, had a manicure—somehow made myself more delicate before taking this step.

“Are my hands too rough?” I blurted out.

“Let me see,” he said.

Luke took my hands in his, turned them palm up and looked at them. Leaning closer, he kissed first one palm and then the other. “There has never been a moment in all my life when you have touched me, and I wanted you to stop,” he said.

I swallowed hard, trying not to tear up and make a fool of myself.

“I need you Sarah Jo, I need to see all of you. To feel all of you,” he said, his voice low and heated.

I nearly came on the spot at his words. “Then take me,” I offered. “All of me.”

“This is going to complicate things for you. For both of us,” he said diffidently.

“I don’t care right now. Right now, I just want this. I want you. We can deal with the rest in the morning.”

Luke drew me into his arms, his embrace engulfing me. I liked it so much that my knees felt weak. My knees had held perfectly fine while I was moving 2×4’s at work, but the simple act of standing in his arms was overwhelming. He tucked my head under his chin and kissed my hair.

He scooped me up in his arms and carried me. I kicked my feet and giggled. He strode through his house and kicked open his bedroom door as if carrying me were effortless. I felt a lightness in his arms, from being carried that way. Not just a feeling of weightlessness in my body, but in my mind. Things that worried me, things I was stressed about seemed to float up and out the window like mist. I wasn’t weighed down by fear, by obligation. I was set free. And being free, I was in the place I had chosen. I didn’t want to be anywhere else. When he sat me down on the bed, I kicked off my shoes. I scooted up to the headboard and leaned against a pillow.

He came to join me, propping his head up on his elbow and facing me. I liked the companionable feeling, the crazy mix of being so comfortable with him while my stomach was doing flip-flops over what was to come. I was warm and safe. I felt that down to my bones. But I was also in for a wild ride.

Luke reached for me, his hand sliding across my belly. The slow circles he traced with his broad palm, his fingers spread, ignited the spark that was smoldering in deep inside. I felt myself soothed, felt my body relax under his touch. My hips canted toward him as if to ask for more. My own hands were on him, gripping a bicep, stroking his hair.

His lips met mine, a soft, warm kiss. It promised more, something swirling and darker that pulled me in. I held his face to mine, not letting him escape. He rolled me onto my side facing him, our legs tangling up together. I loved the pressure of his knee between my legs. I gripped his leg with my thighs, arched closer to him. He brushed my hair back from my face and kissed my neck. The slide of his mouth down my neck was lush. It sent bright rivulets of sensation stinging along my skin. Amazingly, as powerful a pull as I felt with wanting him, he moved with exquisite slowness. He let me savor every sensation of his touch. As if there were no hurry at all.