Me! Not Emily.
Guilt rushes through me, but when he cups my face in his big hands, lifting me to my toes so he doesn’t have to bend down so much, all I feel is wild. A scrape along the floor tells me he’s grabbed my stepstool, and when he deposits me on it, I battle against the urge to wrap my legs around him. Instead, I use the new height to angle myself up to him, kissing him back as aggressively as he’s devouring me.
I don’t submit to him. That’s not my way. It’s not his, either. Instead, we invade each other with our tongues but only succeed in setting fire to the thin shred of resistance either of us held.
He tastes like beer and bad choices, and when he bites my lip gently, I return the nibble ferociously, leaving the wet heat of his mouth to bite the tanned skin of his neck. I pull at the collar of his T-shirt to expose the thick muscle where his neck joins his shoulder and bite there too.
“Goddamn, Lil Bit.” His hissed curse might mean stop, but since he’s thrust his fingers into my hair, holding me to his neck, I’m pretty sure it didn’t. I suck it sweetly to soothe the sharp nip, but it only creates another type of ache. A deeper one.
His hands mold over my body, learning every angle because there are very few curves to be had. But he doesn’t seem to mind at all. He’s not gentle, which I appreciate. Sometimes, guys see me as this tiny, fragile thing and touch me like I’ll break if they go too rough. Brody has no such hesitation, kneading my skin and muscles hard as he takes my mouth again.
I’m about to fuck him right here against the bed of my truck. It won’t be the first time I’ve had sex in this garage. I lost my virginity in bay three in a Toyota Corolla. And it won’t be the last time either, most likely, but I realize one important fact.
I can’t do this to Emily.
Shit. Fuck. Damn.
I’ve already betrayed my sister with this so-much-more than a kiss, but I won’t, can’t do this to her.
It takes too much work to clear the fogginess in my mind enough to find words, so I push at Brody. He fights it at first, thinking it’s part of our battle to consume each other, so I push again. Hard this time.
He steps back, confusion written in the frown lines around his mouth. “What?”
His voice has gone so deep and dark that I can feel it in my core. I clench tightly, feeling empty and knowing damn well that he could fix that. With his fingers, his tongue, and that thick cock I felt against my belly.
“Emily.” A reminder for myself and the only word I can find the clarity to say.
“What about her?” He’s breathing hard, chest rising and falling as I watch, feeling a sense of pride that I’ve pushed him to his limits.
“She . . . likes you.” I’m well aware it sounds stupid and juvenile, but it’s the truth of what’s stopping me.
“She can’t call dibs on me.” It makes me ridiculously pleased that he doesn’t take the childish phrase lightly. Sibling relationships are a delicate thing, and I’m known for being more bulldozer than dancer, but I’m trying here. God, I’m trying so hard. “And if we’re playing games of who saw whom first—I met you first, liked you first, wanted you first.”
Oh, the dirty ideas his words make me think of.
I can feel the heat on my cheeks, which pisses me off. I’m not fair-skinned, but something tells me Brody sees the blush all the same. His nose traces the line of my cheekbone to my ear. “Wanna hear it again?” He pauses, and I don’t dare move, desperately wanting to hear whatever he’s going to say. “I want you, Erica. Just you. Only you.”
I shudder, not realizing until this moment how much that means to me.
I love my sister to the very depths of my soul. I swear I do. And we’re not competitive in the least, mostly because I do my own thing and she does hers. We’re so different, but she’s . . . Emily. Homecoming queen, sweet and pretty, the one guys always go for.
But this time, the guy wants . . . me. Rude, crude, bitchy, sarcastic, aggressive . . . me.
And there’s a tiny little sliver that revels in that. But even though it’s small, it’s there. What to do with that is my choice, though, and I won’t be the sister who steals the other one’s guy. Even if Brody’s not really hers to begin with.
I place a staying hand on his chest, feeling his racing pulse beneath my palm. He’s just as affected by this as I am, which heats my blood anew. “I need to talk to Emily first.”