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Authors: Amy Lane

Tags: #erotic MM, #Romance MM

BOOK: Bewitched by Bella's Brother
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And voila! Bella’s brother moved back into town, and

they had a rent-free luxury suite with a swimming pool.

Sebastian looked at the note again, blocked out in precise engineer’s printing.
Sorry. A’.
A’ must be a helluva nice guy, to think he had to apologize for this.

Sebastian was even more impressed once he saw the

rooms.

“Oh,
nice
,” he commented, running his hand along the dark wood of the bedframe. The bed—burgundy cotton

sheets, matching cotton comforter, pillows and bolsters—had been made, and after setting Sebastian’s stuff down, the two of them took a moment to bounce on the relatively new

mattress. A queen-sized bed, complete with box springs. “It’s gonna suck going back to the old student cot after this,”

Sebastian groaned, throwing himself backward, and Bella

sighed in agreement next to him.

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Sebastian turned on his side and propped himself up on

his elbow. “So, baby, what’s your room like?”

Bella blushed, and if Sebastian hadn’t thought he’d get

another piece of paper threatening his nether orifice, he would have marked this occasion on a calendar too.

“It’s perfect,” she mumbled, and Sebastian popped up

off the bed and ran through the bathroom (the tub and

shower were sinfully big, he noticed) and then threw open the adjoining door.

And stopped dead with his mouth hanging open. “Oh

shit, Bella—if this guy wasn’t your brother, I’d say he’s trying to marry you!” The room was… well, it was a gallery for finely made prints, for one thing. All in frames on sanded wood walls, and all of them from Bella’s specialty eras. Rococo, Renaissance, Impressionism—you name an era that was

featured widely in women’s historical romances, and Bella had written a paper on it in a Master’s level class. There was at least one print from every era Bella loved in that room, in hand-beveled hardwood frames with specialty, non-glare

glass.

The quilt on the bed was a pale cream color, with

accents of dark gold and pale violet, and the curtains

matched. Sebastian knew for a fact these were Bella’s

favorite colors—her favorite painting in the world had these colors in it, and her life seemed to be a search for the feelings that color scheme gave her.

The floor was the same golden wood as the walls, and

there was a deep, plush area throw around the bed.

Sebastian threw himself back on the bed and made a

strangled sound of enchantment.

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“A down pillow top on the mattress. Bella, are you

shitting me? Jesus… Sammy’s brother beats the shit out of him as a sign of affection. What did this guy do to you as a kid—run over your kitten? Behead your Barbies? I mean,

Jesus
, Bella—this is some serious penitence here!”

And it was a day for surprises, because Bella looked

away, and Sebastian was struck absolutely silent. She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand and made a noise he’d never heard from her—not in four years of friendship.

“It was my fault,” she muttered, making that sniffling

sound again. “It was my fault. He didn’t have to do this. Shit, Sebastian, I can’t talk about this right now. I’m a bitch, he’s a good guy, and I need to get our shit moved in so I can spend all summer avoiding him….”

Sebastian moved to hug her instinctively. He’d never

really been a hugger until he met Bella, but being her

absolutely bestest best friend in the entire world gave him certain privileges. Bella was the slyest, meanest, most

sarcastic glitch-bitch a boy could have, and they’d been hugging each other like Hansel and Gretel lost in the woods since Sebastian had his first breakup when they were

roommates. They probably couldn’t live without a hug a day from each other, and Sebastian gave a little bit of thanks for that. Best moments of his life.

But Bella wasn’t talking—and she
definitely
wasn’t hugging—and after moving his shit, then driving to Davis to get hers, Sebastian wasn’t in the mood for anything more than dinner and a shower. Bella got a call on her cell about the time Sebastian had put on his basketball shorts and a T-shirt, enjoying what felt like a
stellar
air conditioning system Bewitched by Bella’s Brother |
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as he did. Bella came into Sebastian’s room, fresh from her own shower, and flopped on Sebastian’s bed.

“That was my brother,” she told him. “He and his kid

are out on a fishing/star-gazing expedition, but he said he ordered pizza for us—all paid and everything. He told me it should be here in half an hour and to make ourselves at

home.”

Sebastian looked at her. Just looked at her. It was like the guy had read his mind.

“Jesus, Bella! I think I love the guy already. Please tell me he’s gay. Please, pretty please, with someone else’s cherry on top? Bi. Bi-curious. Watched a friend jerk off in junior high. Anything. I’m dying here. What is your brother like?”

Bella’s mouth curved reluctantly into a smile. “He’s

hella tall,” she said immediately. “And if he hasn’t cut it yet, he’s got long blond hair down to his waist. He keeps it neat and all, but he’s sort of vain about it—and he’s not vain about
anything
.”

“No vanity? How is that even possible?” Sebastian was

beautiful; he was aware of it. He didn’t think it made him more or less than anyone else… but that didn’t mean he

didn’t enjoy appreciative looks, male and female. He was vain about his academic work; he worked hard on it, he thought it was comparable to anyone else’s in the country. He was even vain about his friendship with Bella, because he’d been raised an only child and the temptation to be a spoiled, self-centered diva-bitch could have been overwhelming. But Bella had once nursed him through the flu and then typed up his next paper from notes while he was still curled over the commode, just so he could make his publishing deadline. He Bewitched by Bella’s Brother |
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wasn’t sure where a girl learned that kind of loyalty, but he was going to clutch it to him with selfish, bony fingers.

How could a man who could build this house with his

bare hands—and have it decorated with a bare heart,

apparently—not have any damned vanity?

“I didn’t say he didn’t have pride,” she said softly, and then flopped down on the bed next to him, rolling into his arms for an easy, sexless hug. “I just said he doesn’t really flaunt the shit he does well. And”—she sounded

uncomfortable here, as though she was repeating gossip—“I think his pride has taken some hits lately. If you listen to Mom, his ex-wife really fucked him over.”

Sebastian pulled back and looked at her, truly curious.

“Care to explain?” he asked impatiently when she didn’t go into details.

Bella rolled over to her stomach and rested her chin in

her hands, tracing her finger moodily on the burgundy

comforter.

“I don’t know, Sebastian. I’m pretty sure she wasn’t

faithful, but beyond that?” She shook her head. “All I know is that Asa got full custody of Jordan, and whether she gave it to him or the courts did, that’s full-blown fucked-up bitch in my book.”

Sebastian nodded. She didn’t show it often, but Bella

had the same values as the rest of her close-knit family. The children were important—and treasured.

“So he’s here, doing the single father bit—and you get

free room and board for helping?”

For the first time in the past two days, Bella’s lush

mouth curved upwards. “Yeah—Jordan was just a little

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squish on the carpet last time I saw him. I can’t wait to meet him.”

But it didn’t seem as though it would be that night.

They ate pizza on the back deck by the pool, watching the sunrise over Lincoln (or thereabouts—not always easy to tell in the foothills), and split a six-pack of microbrew beer between them in celebration of free room and board in such a spiffy place.

Afterward, they went up to Sebastian’s room and

watched television on the little set they’d brought with them from their old apartment. Bella fell asleep on the bed next to him in the middle of an
NCIS
rerun, and Sebastian wasn’t far behind.

He wasn’t sure what woke him up a few hours later, but

he was starving for leftovers.

Bella had gone back to her bed; she insisted he snored

and he insisted she was full of it, and the lure of a room to herself must have been irresistible. In the quiet dark of the vast, strange house, his stomach rumbled, and he thought rather greedily that there was more pizza left for him. He kept his sleep shorts and his T-shirt on and padded rather diffidently through the vast house. When he was on top of the landing, he paused and looked out into that magnificent living room, violet in the starlight, and wondered what sort of vision it would take to dream that sort of art up in three dimensions. Then he quit his moment of open hero-worship and padded down the curved staircase in search of pizza.

And pudding. And a glass of milk. And some fruit. Ah,

gods, this guy had the best stocked refrigerator in the state!

Sebastian was still young enough to have an amazing

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metabolism, and he’d spent two days moving shit from Davis to Ophir—he was ready for round two.

He had just gathered it all into his arms—stacked up on

the pizza box with the carton of milk in his other hand—

when a terrible beast wielding a baseball bat came roaring out of the night and scared him shitless.


Auuurrrrggghhhhh
!” screamed the naked giant with the baseball bat, and “
Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh
!” shrieked Sebastian, dropping his midnight snack on the floor, and then Sebastian got a good look at the terrifying man

swinging the Louisville slugger like a drumstick and said,

“Asa?” and Asa stayed in his crouch, trapping Sebastian

against the refrigerator, and said, “Who the fuck are you?”

“The guy who almost shit his pants,” Sebastian

sputtered, trying not to sit down on the refrigerator shelf from sheer relief. For one thing, he didn’t think it would hold him. “Good God—you really are Bella’s brother, aren’t you?”

Asa Bryne straightened up to his full six and a half feet, pushed back a wet, tangled mass of yellow-brown hair that looked like it might actually go to his waist, and blew out a breath.

“You’re Bella’s friend from school. Shit. Jesus fucking

Humphrey bastard Christmas. I’m fucking sorry—I was

changing out at the pool and I saw the light and had a

fucking panic attack.” Asa eyed the scattered pieces of

midnight snack at his feet and suddenly dropped to his

knees and started to pick it up, shoving it into Sebastian’s bemused hands. “Here. Here—you put this on the table, and I’ll go get some fucking towels for the fucking milk.”

Asa stalked off, leaving Sebastian to finish picking up

the remains of his snack and set it up on the table—which Bewitched by Bella’s Brother |
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he did promptly, when he was done gazing at Asa’s fine,

muscular, pale ass as he disappeared in the direction of the washroom.

Stop drooling at the straight man, Sebastian. You don’t
want to fuck up a perfectly good situation here.
But it was no good—Asa returned, wearing a pair of cut-offs, and

Sebastian’s brain went on slide-show freeze frame, with the best parts of Bella’s brother highlighted in softly glowing moonlight. Brown-blond hair—wet now, but falling from a

jagged part at the top of his head and framing his face like that was where it went when he normally let it. Ocean blue eyes—Bella’s blue eyes, faintly crossed over a bold, Roman nose, with a high, expressive brow and a lantern jaw. He was probably in his late thirties, and he had just enough lines around his eyes and mouth to make him interesting and not just… just… mmmmmm damn!

Sebastian had always thought of himself as pretty, but

this man—this man was
beautiful.
He had a face that should have been carved into stone, one that could be memorialized in marble as a general or a king or an emperor.

Or just as a wood-erecting panty-wetter with a mouth

that could peel the paint off a steel girder. Sebastian

wouldn’t forget that impressive oath he’d muttered when he realized there wasn’t an intruder in the house. Ohmigod—

the guy really
was
Bella’s brother.

By the time he realized he’d been gaping at Asa as he

got on his hands and knees and cleaned up the spilled milk, Sebastian had an erection he couldn’t hide and a burning need to babble like a complete moron.

“I’m sorry to scare you like that,” he muttered, getting a sponge from the sink and wiping off the pudding containers Bewitched by Bella’s Brother |
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and the table. “Bella and I just really enjoyed the pizza, you know, and I was starving and I didn’t know anyone was

home and… omigod! Do you think we woke your kid? Bella

was really looking forward to seeing Jordan. I hope we didn’t just totally freak him out because that would suck, and

she’d never forgive me. Have you ever heard your sister when she’s angry? It’s like being dragged naked over sandpaper and dipped in battery acid—deranged harpies have sweeter voices, you know?”

“Yeah,” Asa grunted, and Sebastian was surprised

enough to drop the jar of canned fruit he’d pulled out of the refrigerator. It didn’t break or spill, but it did thunk loudly enough to make Asa look up.

“You talk!” Sebastian stammered.

“You shut up!” Asa rolled his eyes and went back to the

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