Bad For You: (An Older Brother's Best Friend Romance) (7 page)

nautica

“Hi, it’s me again. Fuck. I shouldn’t have said that shit,
but I can’t stop myself from blurting out the truth … what I feel … right now.
It’s just I want you so bad it’s killing me. Physically killing me. I’m going
to go jack off now. Bye.”

I feel hot underneath my blankets, my body
flushing with heat, as I clench my phone and listen to Bracken’s voicemails
from last night
for the third time.
I had my phone on silent, thank God.
I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d answered and been given that proposal.

It would’ve most likely been on the lines of
showing up with my panties in my hand and letting him have his way with me. No
matter how much the man pisses me off, he never fails to turn me on.

He overtakes my train of thought. His touch,
and the way he talks to me sets me on fire. I should delete every message, but I
can’t. I’m keeping them so I can relieve myself to his drunken mistake as many
times as I like.

I lower my hand down my stomach and
underneath my pajama shorts. I’m already soaked. My heart races as I sluggishly
rub my tiny nub. My soft fingertips brush along my sensitive spot. I stroke
myself but imagine it’s Bracken’s finger doing the job for me. I shut my eyes,
seeing his face, and hear his voice until my release shatters through me.  

So much for the whole moving on thing.

* * *

Simon and my mom are in the kitchen eating breakfast when I
walk in, post-Bracken’s-voice-induced orgasm.  

I know Simon and Bracken went out for drinks
last night, and I’m pretty sure Bracken didn’t drunkenly confess about us
because Simon didn’t come barging into my bedroom in a fit of anger.

“Good morning, dear sister,” Simon says. He
ruffles his fingers through my hair as he strolls past me. Yep, he definitely doesn’t
know anything.

I swat his hand away. “You better not have
bacon grease on those paws,” I grumble. 

He falls down in the seat next to me. “Where
did you run off to last night?”

“I went out with some friends.” Some girls
from high school invited me to a party, so I left before Simon got out of the
shower. I didn’t want to play the hundred questions game.  

He cocks his head to the side. “You went out
with some friends?”

I snag a piece of bacon from his plate. “Yes,
incase you didn’t know, I do have friends. Heather Scott had people over last
night so everyone from our class could catch up.”

Heather’s is where I ran into the guy who’d
been the quarterback of the football team. Quinton King. We had sophomore
Chemistry together, and even made out once during a middle school game of Seven
Seconds in Heaven. He’s attending college in Kentucky, where he got a full ride
scholarship to play football. By the end of the night, we’d exchanged numbers,
and he asked me to hang out before we both headed back to school. I said yes.

Maybe he’ll move my attention away from
Bracken, although I’m not sure how realistic that is. Bracken has consumed me
for eleven years. It’s hard to let something like that go.

I prepare myself to hear whatever lecture
Simon is about to give on boys and parties. “That’s cool,” he says, with a
shrug. He looks at our mom. “Bracken is coming over for chili tonight.”

I almost fall out of my chair at the mention
of his name,
and
for the fact that Simon isn’t pissed about me going
out.

Did he trip and his head? My high school days
had been filled with dateless nights and unfair curfews. No proms. No staying
out after midnight. Teenage boys didn’t line up to date the girl whose brother
threatened to kill them.

“So do you care if I have someone over too?”
I ask my mom, as a good idea bursts into my head.

Bracken has been playing me like a yo-yo. He’s
giving me a taste of whiplash, and I don’t like it. He wants to be with me. He
doesn’t want to be with me. He wants us to stay away from each other. He leaves
me voicemails begging for me to come over. The man can’t make his mind up, and
he needs a taste of his own medicine.

“Who?” Simon asks, cutting in. The old Simon
is reemerging.

“Quinton,” I answer.

“Sure,” my mom says, the word barely making
it out of her mouth before Simon interrupts her.

“The kid from the football team?” he asks.

I nod. He doesn’t look elated at my response.
“Don’t mess with him,” I warn. “He’s a nice guy.”

He snorts. “There are no nice guys, little
sister.” He taps me on the tip of my nose. “You need to remember that before
you do something stupid.”

Too late.

“So you’re not a nice guy?” I question,
throwing his answer in his face.

“Would I want you to date a guy like me? Hell
no.”

“Not every guy is like you.”

He scoffs. “Yes, they are. When you’re thirty
and meet a good guy who drives a Honda, or is in the military, then you can
date him. But these college boys,
especially
college athletes, are not
interested in anything serious. Trust me. I told you that before you left for
school. I hope you haven’t forgotten it.”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, yeah. You’re always
right,” I say, sarcastically.

He’s really going to fly off the handle when
he finds out about me screwing Bracken.

bracken

I ignore three more of Kelly’s phone calls and don’t even
bother opening up the text messages. It’s a jackass move, I’m well aware, but
it would be a bigger jackass move if I fucked around with her, especially if
Nautica found out about it.

There’s too much chaos on my mind to be
worrying about Kelly sucking my cock, like the fact that I just pulled up to
Simon’s house to have dinner with everyone, including his sexy little sister. I
have to get my head straight and play it cool.

I let out a rugged breath and rub my neck. I’ve
been over here for dinner hundreds of times, but everything is different now. I
have to go in there, take a seat across from her at the table, and stop myself
from touching her. It’s going to take all of my restraint to hold back the
mental images of her taking my cock while her mom tries to have a conversation
with me. I already know shit isn’t going to end well tonight if my dick has any
say in it.

The savory smell of chili powder and cayenne
pepper bombards my nostrils when I walk through the front door, not bothering
to knock. I walk straight to the kitchen where I hear laughing. I find Simon
and his mom, Pamela. Nautica is nowhere in sight.

“There’s my second son,” Pamela greets, when
she sees me. She moves away from the stove to give me a hug. “I’ve missed
having you over for dinner.”

“Trust me, I’ve missed it just as much,” I
say, chuckling. “It sucks having to make your own meals. Thanks for having me.”

She slaps me on the chest. “Oh stop it. You
know you’re always welcome here.”

 Simon gets up from his chair. “Let’s
watch the game until the food is ready.” He glances over at Pamela, whose attention
is back on the stove. “You mind, ma?”

She waves us away with a smile on her face.
“No. You two go ahead. It’s easier for me to work without Simon trying to stick
his finger in the pot repeatedly.”

I follow him into the living room. He flips
on the TV. “Where’s Nautica?” I ask, taking a look around. I’m trying to appear
as casual as possible, but the question has been eating at me since I walked
through the door.

Did she bail because she knew I was coming?  

He lets out an agitated grunt and falls down
in a chair. “Get this. She’s upstairs in her room with some fucking dude.” He
tosses the remote down on the table roughly.

My pulse races, and I have to sit down. “She’s
what?”

How the fuck is Simon okay with this? The old
him would be kicking out the asshole and putting Nautica in time-out.

His jaw clenches. “Yeah, I’m not too fucking
happy about it. I guess she ran into some football player last night at a party
and invited him over for dinner. I told her to stay her ass in the living room,
but does she listen to me? Nope. Apparently she thinks the rules don’t apply to
her anymore now that she’s in college.”

“Can’t you tell them to come down here?” I
don’t know what would be worse: seeing her with him, or sitting here with the
endless thoughts of what they could be doing up there.

Fucking, that’s what. That’s the only reason
I’m ever in a chick’s bedroom.

He shakes his head. “My mom sided with her.”
He mimics her voice. “She’s eighteen now. That gives her more freedom.”

I swallow down the anger boiling in the back
of my throat. My cock was in her mouth only a few nights ago, and now she has
some other dude in her bedroom? That’s not fucking cool. She’s going to hear
about it.

My knees are bouncing. I want to charge up
those stairs and ask her what the hell she thinks she’s doing. No one else
should be in her bedroom … in her bed … but me.

But I can’t. My punishment is sitting here
and acting normal, like this shit doesn’t bother me. I have to suppress my
anger and watch this stupid ass game, which is easier said than done.

I grit my teeth. I can’t wait until she gets
her ass down here. She has some explaining to do.

* * *

Dinner is hell, to say the least, which sucks because I
usually enjoy Pam’s chili.

Nautica didn’t come down until Pam texted her
telling her dinner was ready. By that time, I was on the verge of dragging her
friend down the stairs and kicking his ass out. I needed to talk to her.

When they got down, I still didn’t get the
chance. Nautica didn’t act surprised to see me, so she must’ve known I was
coming. She’s trying to make me jealous. I’m sure of it – and it’s
working. Douchebag stayed by her side, flirting with her non-stop. I’m
surprised I didn’t cough up my damn food.

My dad told me about him a few years ago. He
was the only guy, other than myself, to make varsity his freshman year. Word is
he received a scholarship to some hotshot college and is on his way to the NFL.

“Here, let me help you,” I rush out. I slide
my chair out and get up as soon as Nautica offers to clear the table. I grab my
bowl, then Simon’s, and follow her into the kitchen, my pulse spiraling with
every step. I set the bowls down on the counter as soon as we make it into the
kitchen and out of earshot from everyone else.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I whisper,
harshly. I gulp, watching her as she turns around, ignoring me, and starts to
load the dishwasher. My fingernails dig into the edge of the counter. “Answer
me.” It’s becoming more difficult to keep my voice down.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she
answers, keeping her back to me. “
What I’m doing
is cleaning up after
dinner,
obviously.”

I take three long strides to her. My chest
bumps into her back as I cage her in-between the sink and me. Her breathing
quickens. “Answer this, then. Why the fuck did you invite another guy over for
dinner, and more importantly, have him in your damn bedroom?” I hiss in her
ear. My fingers tightly wrap around her hips and I push into her. “You knew I’d
be here. Are you trying to torture me?”

She stays still, but I can feel the goose
bumps rising along her skin. “Not that it’s any of your business, but we were
watching the game.”

“And why couldn’t you watch the game downstairs
with everyone else?
With me?”

I grunt and take a step back when her elbow slams
into my stomach. “Maybe because I wanted some privacy. Damn, Bracken. You have
no right to question me about what I’m doing.” She shuts the dishwasher with
her knee and keeps her distance from me.  

“Privacy for what?”

She lets out a heavy sigh as her hands fall
slack to her sides. “Quit being an asshole. I don’t owe you answers. You’re the
one who blew
me
off. You’re the one who fucked me
twice
and then
said we were a bad idea.”

I throw my arms out. “I didn’t expect you to
start blowing someone else a few days later.”  

I dodge a kitchen towel flying my way. “Fuck
you,” she spats. “I’m allowed to hang out with other guys. I’m sure you’re not
planning on keeping your dick in your pants while you’re home. You probably
have a
long
list of girls waiting to fuck you as soon as you leave
here.”

“I haven’t touched anyone since you.”

I notice a faint smile appear on her lips
before she fights it off. “I really appreciate that, but you don’t want me, so
it’s okay. We’re both free to do whatever we want. Oh, and don’t leave me any
more messages of you jacking off. They’re annoying.” Her hand smacks into my
chest playfully before she saunters out of the kitchen, her hips swaying from
side to side.

I lean back against the wall. She’s playing
mind games with me, fucking with me, and it’s working.

I count to ten to calm myself down before I
go back into the living room with Simon. Nautica must be back in her bedroom
with lover boy. I fall down on the couch. I’m not leaving until he does.  

Twenty minutes pass until I hear footsteps
coming down the stairs. I turn around to see Nautica and him walking outside.

Thank fucking God.

nautica

Quinton tells me goodnight with a kiss on the cheek and a wave
before climbing into his black, four-door Jeep.   

He acted like the perfect gentleman tonight. He
made no sly moves, no hand up the shirt maneuvers while we watched the game,
nothing – which surprised me.

Like Bracken, he had the whole man-slut
reputation in high school. Girls threw themselves at him, and he was rumored to
only date the ones who put out.

Apparently, I have a type.

But he’d been nothing but sweet. It might’ve
been the fact that my brother and Bracken were downstairs cock-blocking him. I’m
not sure.

We went back upstairs after dinner to watch a
movie and hangout. Even though I was still pissed about Bracken questioning me
in the kitchen, Quinton helped me take my mind off him. He told me about the
overwhelming pressure football puts on him. I told him how refreshing the
independence of being in college felt.

I wait until I can no longer make out his taillights
before heading back inside. I know what’s coming. The annoying interrogation
from Simon, and Bracken is most likely going to join him since he finds it
necessary to suddenly be in my business.

They are watching a movie in the living room.
I quietly try to creep back up the stairs to head back to my bedroom, but have
no luck. 

“Hold it,” Simon calls out. I stop and look
back at him. “Did your new little boyfriend leave?” You can sense the sarcasm
in his tone.

“Don’t be an asshole,” I mutter, flipping him
off. “Or I’ll invite him back over tomorrow.”

“Sit your mean ass down and hang out with
your big brother. I’ve missed you.” He points to the open seat next to Bracken
on the couch.

I stretch out my arms and fake a long yawn.
“I would, but I’m actually feeling pretty tired. I’ve had a long night.”

Bracken turns around to look at me. “A long
night?” he asks, with a raised brow. “What did you do that made it
so long?
”
He’s trying to hold back the venom in his tone because of Simon, but he isn’t doing
that great of a job at it. I turn around and start to head up the stairs again,
but he keeps talking. “Oh come on, party pooper. It’s only nine o’clock. Hang
out with us now that your little
boyfriend
is gone.”

I whip back around to face him. “He’s not my
boyfriend.”

“You two sure looked awfully tight and cuddly.”

“Then I’d suggest you get your eyes checked.”

Simon’s gaze whips back and forth between him
and me. He isn’t used to hostility with us. Shit, I’m not used to it. We’ve
always gotten along.

“Fine,” I say, around a groan. “But I’m only
staying for awhile.”

The last thing I need is Simon suspecting
something, so I walk into the living room and plop down on the couch, as far
away from Bracken as possible. Unfortunately, our couch isn’t that big.

I glance over at Bracken briefly and become
annoyed at the giant smirk on his face. The asshole loves getting his way.

I survive an hour with them, and Bracken’s
subtle touches, before faking another yawn. “I’m headed to bed,” I tell them,
getting up. I’ve had enough. An hour is adequate time to prove my innocence.
Now I need to get the hell out of here.

“Goodnight, sis,” Simon calls out, not
looking away from the TV screen.

Bracken stays quiet. Thank God.

I turn on my TV and climb into bed when I get
to my room. Another hour passes and my phone chimes with a text from Bracken.

I open it.
“I’m about to leave.”

I hit the reply button.
“Okay? Bye.”

“Where’s my kiss goodnight?”  

God, the nerve of his asshole.

I take a deep breath and hold back the
impulse of marching down the stairs and giving him a slap goodnight. Who the
hell does he think he is? He can’t play games with me like that.

I slam my finger down on the reply button.
“No.
I’ve already given someone a kiss goodnight. Thanks anyways.”

I’m lying, but so what? He needs to feel like
shit for basically telling me I don’t mean shit to him and blowing me off. I
want him to experience the jealousy I’ve felt for years.

“Don’t fuck with me, Nautica.”

I toss my phone down next to me, fully
prepared to ignore him for the rest of the night … or forever if I can help it.
I need to move on from my Bracken obsession.

I jump at the sound of my ringtone.

Bracken
again.

I focus on the screen and watch his name
flash, contemplating whether or not to answer it.

“What?” I hiss, caving in.  

“Are you ignoring me?” he asks. 

“Sure am.”

“And why the fuck are you doing that?”

I scoff. “Why do you think?”

I can hear the sound of his truck running in
the background. Then it goes silent. “Come over.”  

“Come over?”

“Yes. Come over. I want to see you.”

“Have you been drinking? I can’t come over to
your house.”

“Why not? I’m outside waiting in my truck.
Come over. We’ll go inside, go for a ride, something. I want to see you.”

I look at my alarm clock. “It’s almost
midnight.”   

“And? Do you plan on turning into a pumpkin
or some shit?”

“No, smart ass. What I’m saying is that I
can’t go downstairs and tell Simon I’m going to your house to hang out.”

“Simon went to bed. Sneak out.”

“Goodnight.”

It takes every ounce of my willpower to hang
up on him.

Games. The man always wants to play games.

I groan when my phone beeps with another
message.

A picture message, actually.

A dick pic, specifically.

Holy fucking shit!

His pants are pulled down, and his hand is
wrapped around the base of his cock. My mouth flies open, and my phone slips
straight through my fingers, hitting me in the face.

I snatch my phone back up when another text
comes.

Him again.
“Come see it in person.”

I hit reply.
“You’ve lost your damn mind.
Go to sleep.”

“That’s not going to happen because I
can’t stop thinking about you. Come over. I’ll make it worth your while. I
promise.”

My nerves stir and my body grows hotter when
I pull the picture back up on my phone. I gulp, but can’t break my eyes away
from his cock. Anticipation and need begs at my core. I can’t believe I’m
getting this excited from looking at a fucking dick selfie.

I slide out of bed and grab my coat and
boots. I can hear Simon’s TV from his bedroom as I tiptoe down the stairs. I
quietly slip out the front door and into the cold night.

Holy shit. I’m actually sneaking over to
Bracken’s house for a booty call, or whatever it is that we’re going to be
doing.

I walk down the sidewalk carefully so I don’t
bust my ass on the ice. His truck is parked in the driveway, but isn’t running.
I pull out my phone from my coat pocket.

“I’m outside,”
I text.

Panic runs through me as I take a look
around. What if he was only messing around with me? What if this is all a joke
and he hadn’t actually expected me to show up?

I slowly start to back away when the driver’s
side door of his truck flies open. I pull my coat tighter around my body and
walk up the driveway to meet him.

“You actually came,” he says, his eyes wide
in disbelief.  

I’m standing only a few inches away from him
as my heart races. “Yeah,” I mutter out. I take a nervous step back, but he
grabs my arm to stop me before I make a run for it.

“Whoa, whoa. Where do you think you’re
going?” I shiver as his finger runs up and down my hand.

“I’m not in the mood for your games tonight.
It’s fucking freezing out here.”

He drops my hand and scrunches up his face.
“Jokes? Do you think me inviting you over here is a fucking joke?” He steps
underneath the floodlights and points in-between his legs. My hand goes to my
mouth as I look down and eye the hard bulge underneath his jeans. “Nothing
about the two of us is a joke, nor will it ever be. Is it confusing as fuck?
Yes. Is it hard for me? Absolutely, and in more ways than one.” He grins, and I
slap his shoulder. “But never a joke. I asked you to come here because I had to
see you or I was going to go crazy all fucking night.”  

I shiver and stare at him, speechless. I’m
not exactly sure how to respond. His hand reaches out to brush away the
snowflakes on my face. I gasp when his lips meet mine. Unlike our other
forbidden kisses, this one is soft, slow, and sweet.
It’s nice.

“Come inside,” he says, cocking his head
towards his house.

“What about your parents?” I ask.

“They’re passed out. Plus, I doubt they’d
care if you come in.”  

I look from this house and then back to his
truck. “What about your truck?” He gives me a sideways look when I take a step
back and open up the backseat door.

“Are you serious? We’ll freeze our asses
off.”

I smile. “Then let’s warm each other up,
shall we?”

I slide into the backseat without giving him
the chance to say anything back. How the hell is this happening? How have I
gone from being a nervous wreck to being a seductress luring him into the
backseat of his truck?

“Why can’t I stay away from you?” he asks,
appearing in the doorway.

“The same reason I can’t stay the hell away
from you. It’s stupid for us to keep denying what feels so right.”

He doesn’t move. “I don’t want to fuck you in
the back of my truck.” He shakes his head, refusing to look at me. “It’s not
right.”

“Why not?”
Please don’t reject me.

“You’re better than that. You deserve more.”

I smack my hand against the seat. “Do you
know how hot this big, badass machine is? I’ve been dreaming about you taking
me in this backseat for years. On the night of your graduation party, I was
silently praying for you to come to your senses, pull over, and have your way
with me back here. If there’s anywhere I’d like for you to fuck me, it’s here.”

“Mother fucker, that’s the hottest thing
anyone has ever said to me.” The door slams shut, taking away our source of
light, but I can sense his body heat moving in close. “I want you to ride my
cock again. Ride me as fucking hard as you wanted to fuck me that night.”

I can hear the jingle of his belt unbuckling,
along with the faint sound of his zipper tearing down. I shiver as I do the
same thing. I take a deep breath before climbing over to him as soon as my
panties are off. I wrap my hand around his hard cock.

 “Is this what you wanted me to come
over and do?” I whisper against his lips. “Is this why you sent me that dick
pic?” I’m not sure where this dirty talking girl is coming from, but I like it.
My words are electrifying, exciting me as much as they are him. My head falls
back when he snakes his hand into my hair and pulls it.

“Fuck yes,” he groans out. “Jack me off, but
I want to get off inside of your pussy. Not on your hand.”

I casually stroke him a few times before
positioning myself over his lap. I cry out in ecstasy when his cock fills me
up. My entire body trembles as I slam all of my weight down on him. With each
plunge, he grips my ass and slaps it, harder and rougher each time.    

This is what I’ve wanted for years. My
fantasies are finally coming alive. My only fear is what’s going to happen when
I wake up.

* * *

“You can sleep here tonight if you want,” Bracken says,
buckling his pants while I start to get dressed.

After we both got off, we grabbed our clothes
and hopped into the front seat so Bracken could turn the heat on.

I throw my shirt on. “That won’t be obvious
or anything,” I answer, around a laugh. He’s afraid of Simon finding out about
us, so I don’t understand why he’d invite me to stay overnight.

“Tell them you stayed over at a friend’s
house.”

“And left in the middle of the night?” I
shake my head. “I wish I could, but I have to go.”

Nothing sounds better than climbing into his
bed and feeling his arms wrap around me tight, but we can’t risk it. I’m not
ready to lose him yet.

I jump out of his truck, and he joins me
outside.

“I’ll walk you,” he says, grabbing my hand
and leading me towards my house.

We stroll down the sidewalk, snow crunching
underneath our feet, and hold hands in silence. He stops at the front door and
turns me to face him. He draws back and becomes quiet.  

“What?” I ask. Did I do something wrong?

“This is … it’s crazy,” he says, a small
laugh escaping him.

“What is?”

“Our time together … every night … it’s like
it’s competing for my favorite one.” My breath catches as he runs his fingers
along my cheeks. That is the last thing I expected him to say. This Bracken,
this sweet Bracken, is going to keep bringing me back for more, even though I’m
fully aware it’s a bad idea. “Thank you for coming over.”

I grin. “Thank you for the orgasm.”

He chuckles. “Anytime, babe.
Any-fucking-time.” His lips smack into my forehead. “Sweet dreams.”