My Brother's Bad Best Friend

by B. B. Hamel

“Sure,” I say.

  “I can give you a ride home if you want.”

  “I have my bike.”

  He nods and doesn’t argue. I think he’s noticed how much I’ve been enjoying riding lately, and I think he likes it.

  We leave his office and head down the hall, walking close to each other. As we come up toward the café, I notice Lane’s apron hanging on a peg, and an idea hits me like a gunshot. I stop in my tracks and stare at it for a second as Jonas turns and looks at me quizzically.

  “What’s up?” he asks.

  “You mentioned a strip search,” I say softly, looking back at him and smiling a little bit.

  His eyebrows raise, but I don’t say anything else. I push open the café door and step inside, grabbing the apron from the peg and letting the door close behind me. He steps up to the glass door and watches as I pull off my shirt, tossing it aside. I unhook my bra and let it fall down onto the floor next to me. I can feel his eyes on my back as I turn and look over my shoulder at him. I pause to unbutton my jeans and slowly tug down them over my hips, stepping out of them, wearing just my panties. I move over to the counter and before I disappear from his view, I pull my panties off and kick them away.

  Once I’m behind the counter and he can’t see me anymore, I pull the apron on and tie it in the front. I lean up against the wall, my whole body thrumming and ringing with this stupid, impulsive move. I don’t know what I was thinking and he’s not following me like I hoped he would. I’m starting to doubt myself, starting to feel like a total moron, like I just embarrassed myself in front of him. I don’t know how I can go back to that apartment if he doesn’t follow me in here right now, because my cards are on the table, and he’s clearly not picking them up.

  It feels like ten minutes pass when it’s maybe ten seconds. My heart’s beating so fast and I’m humiliated. I just stripped in front of him, let him see my body, put myself completely out there for him, and now he’s rejecting me. Just like the other night. Oh, he stayed there and let me get myself off, but he didn’t bend me over that couch and fuck me like I wanted him to. Now he’s doing it again. I’m so stupid, I don’t know why I thought this time would be different, but clearly I’m just a pathetic little girl.

  And then I hear the door open and shut, his footsteps heavy on the floor. I stand up straighter as he comes around the counter, eyes staring at me. The apron barely covers my breasts, and I’m practically spilling out the side. I watch as he slides around behind and comes toward me, not saying a word.

  He stops close and slowly puts his hands on my hips. I’m breathless, bottom lip between my teeth, as he slowly reaches up and finds the knot I tied. He pulls it, tugging it loose, letting the strings fall down and the apron billow out in front of me.

  Wordlessly he turns me around. My ass is bare and exposed as he bends me over, my hands flat on the counter. I shiver with anticipation as I feel his lips on the back of my neck, one hand on my ass, the other on my lower back.

  “This is what you want?” he whispers softly.

  “Yes,” I say, without hesitation.

  “Are you sure?” His hand grips my ass, a little rough. “I’m not a nice man, little rose. I’ve been nice so far, but don’t think I won’t hurt you. Don’t think I won’t break you.”

  I turn my head, tilting my chin up to meet his eyes. “You can’t break me, Jonas. Not even if you tried.”

  His smirk drives me wild, like he’s taking it as a challenge. “We’ll see, little rose.” His fingers carve a delicious trail along my lower back, down the ridge of my ass and toward my inner thigh, curving up to tease open my dripping wet pussy. A little gasp escapes my lips as a flood of pleasure rolls down along my spine, a tide of pent-up desire and anticipation finally building in my chest.

  I groan as he snaps back my hair, tipping my head back and forcing my gaze forward. His fingers slide inside, pressing deep and forcing a low moan from my throat. I feel like I’m losing my mind, and part of me wonders if this is what it’s like to get really high. If so, I can understand why people do it all the time.

  I feel him drop to his knees behind me as both of his hands grasp my hips. He spreads my legs wider, bringing my chest down lower against the counter as his tongue finds my ass, licking me top to bottom. I gasp half in surprise and half in pleasure as his tongue laps at me, licking and swirling around my ass, tasting every inch of me before he slowly finds my pussy again. I groan as his tongue licks me, teases my clit, glides into my cunt, his hands gripping my hips hard. I couldn’t move even if I wanted to, and I wiggle a little bit against the pure pleasure, barely able to control myself with him.

  He slaps my ass hard and tongues my pussy deeper. I grunt his name as he responds by squeezing my ass, his tongue teasing my clit in long, slow laps. “You don’t seem too bad,” I say, looking over my shoulder at him again.

  He picks his head up, a little smirk on his lips. “You think so?”

  “You look pretty nice to me.”

  His smirk turns into a malicious little grin as he sucks two of his fingers. I raise an eyebrow as he presses them against my ass, slowly fingering my tight hole.

  “Shit, Jonas,” I gasp, but he holds me steady with his other hand.

  “You want bad?” he asks, head cocked, grin getting bigger as his fingers start to fuck my ass. “You want mean?”

  “Maybe,” I answer, starting to like the feeling of his fingers. I’ve never had a guy inside me like this before, but I’m actually enjoying it.

  “You don’t know what you’re asking for, little rose.” He pulls his fingers out and licks my ass one more time before standing up. I turn around, leaning against the counter, but he takes me by the hair and slowly moves me away. He directs me down onto my knees and I groan a little bit from the pain as he positions me in front of him.

  He holds my hair with one hand and unbuckles his belt with the other. I help him get it off and unbutton his fly for him before he unzips his pants. I pull them over his hips, admiring the V of his ab muscles, leaning forward to kiss them impulsively, but he stops me with a tug of my hair.

  “I didn’t tell you to do that,” he whispers.

  I grunt again as he gets his boxer briefs off, his hard cock stiff in front of me, thick and long. I’ve never seen a cock like it before in my life and it’s all I can do to stare at him.

  For the first time, I might be having second thoughts. I’m not sure I can handle that dick, let alone let him fuck me however he wants. And I suspect it’s not going to be gentle.

  “Still sure?” he asks, tipping my head back, smirking with one hand on the base of his gigantic dick.

  “I’m sure,” I lie, trying to keep my voice steady.

  He laughs softly, and guides my mouth toward his tip. I take him between my lips, sucking him slowly as first, but he presses me down deeper by my hair. I let him push into my throat, barely taking half of him before I gag and have to pull back.

  He chuckles softly. “You say you want me to be mean, but you can barely take my cock.”

  “I don’t have a lot of experience with, uh, this…”

  “You haven’t sucked a cock this big before,” he says for me. “I get it, but you better get to work anyway.”

  “You asshole,” I say, which only makes him grin more. Annoyed at myself, I take his cock between my lips again and this time, I slide him further into my throat. I want to gag but I suppress it, tears forming in my eyes, determined not to let this asshole win.

  I start to suck him faster, using both my hands on his thick, long shaft. He grunts and clearly likes it. I feel his grip in my hair slacken as I take him deep again, getting even deeper and feeling oddly proud about that. I suck him faster, harder, lips suctioning around his tip. I look up as I pull back, chin tipped up, and he leans down to kiss me. I can taste his tongue and his salty cock still in my mouth as he pulls me to my feet, lifting me up into the air and depositing me on the counter again, my back against the shelves there.

  He spre
ads my legs, his cock right at my dripping pussy. I cock my head as he pins my wrists on either side of me above my head, holding me there as he teases my pussy with his enormous dick.

  “Last chance to back out, little rose. I’m not going to be so nice when I’m inside of you,” he whispers in my ear.

  “I’m not backing out of anything, asshole.”

  “Good girl.” He moves one hand down to guide himself against me as he slowly pushes deep into my pussy.

  I gasp, pleasure and pain mixing. He keeps my one hand pinned as he pushes deep into me. He fills me right away and goes beyond my limits, shattering my previously held beliefs about what I could take and what I couldn’t. He’s stretching me wide open and it hurts, but it also feels good. It’s confusing, but in a good way, the kind of good that I don’t want to stop.

  He tips my chin toward him and kisses my lips as he slowly grinds his hips inside of me, moving his cock around, pushing even further. I realize I’m moaning into his mouth as he pulls back and starts to fuck me, big dick working in and out, moving with a leisurely but determined pace.

  “Oh fuck,” I whisper as his hands move the apron aside and tease my breasts, feeling my nipples and pulling rough as he thrusts hard. I groan as he does it again, thrusting hard and squeezing a nipple. It hurts and it feels good and it’s confusing, just like all of this is confusing, but I want more of it. That’s all I know, and all I care about.

  His hands slide up into my hair as he fucks me faster, shaking the counter. A container of napkins falls to the floor but that only makes him thrust harder and deeper, ripping into my pussy, shaking the whole wall. More items fall down but I don’t care. I realize I’m moaning freely now, hands gripping the edge of the counter as he fucks me hard. I gasp his name as he grabs my hair, moving in a circular grinding motion before thrusting again. I hear something break nearby but neither of us bother to look over.

  He smirks as he licks a thumb and slides it between my legs. I feel him find my clit as he fucks me, rubbing and thrusting deep, send icicles of pleasure rolling down my back.

  I reach up and run my hand through his beard, pulling at it, making him grunt. His eyes flash at me as he puts one hand on my throat, pressing me back harder. I reach up and pull his hair, guiding him toward me as I kiss him, filling his mouth with my tongue as his cock fills me deeper and deeper, his thrusts getting harder.

  He growls and pulls me back off the counter, spinning me around, spreading my legs. He pushes my chest to the counter and my hands behind my back as he thrusts his cock, sliding deep inside of me easily. I have a second to think about how wet I am before he starts to fuck me rough again, rocking deep into me, pushing me apart and filling me.

  He releases my wrists and I steady myself against the wall as he fucks me hard, grabbing my hips. He slaps my ass and I know that’s going to leave a bruise but I buck my back against his cock harder, wanting even more, wanting every inch. I’m losing my mind, losing everything about me, and all I need is the glowing intense pleasure that’s building in my core. I’m getting desperate, I’m getting needy, and I’m not slowing down until I get what I want.

  Neither is Jonas. He thrusts harder, his muscles rippling, his eyes flashing as I look over my shoulder, grunting and groaning. He pulls my hair again, palming my ass as he pushes deeper and deeper.

  “Still like it when I’m mean, little rose?” he whispers in my ear, pulling my hair back toward him.

  “Oh god, yes,” I moan, throaty and full of desire. “I think you can do better than that.”

  It spurs him on, his thrusts getting harder and deeper. He pushes into me again and again, ripping into my pussy, tearing me to blissful pieces. As he keeps going, slapping my ass and controlling me like his little toy, I can feel him slowly building me up again. I can feel it building between my legs, my need and want and desperation all growing, my hate of what happened to me, the memories that haunt me and shred me, the people that mistreat me, hit me, spit at me, I forget it all as he keeps building me, keeps fucking me.

  I let it all go at once. I let it all go as I come, the orgasm rippling down my body, starting soft but building into an intense crescendo of eye-darkening pleasure. I can’t do anything but tighten, every muscle tensing, his name slipping from my lips over and over. He fucks me through it, hands less violent, supporting me now, pulling me close against his hard chest as he keeps pumping, not slowing down.

  “Oh fuck, Lizzie,” he whispers in my ear as he comes. I can feel it, right at the tail end of my own orgasm, his come bursting into me. I grind my hips to help him along, wanting him to fill me up, heedless of how stupid it is. I can’t care about anything but this moment, this moment right here and now.

  He groans as we collapse together against the counter, his arms wrapped around me, holding me tight. I didn’t expect him to be so tender afterward, but I love it. I work myself into his embrace, cocooning into him for warmth and support and whatever else he’ll give me. His lips are close against my ear, his breath warm against my cheek, and there’s nowhere else I want to be.

  13

  Jonas

  I’m stoned on Lizzie all that night, but we don’t get a chance to explore each other anymore. When we get back to the apartment, still flushed and close, Ezra’s sitting in the living room, eating a pizza, oblivious to the way his sister’s looking at me.

  “’Sup,” he says, waving a slice in the air. “Want some?”

  Lizzie glances at me before joining her brother. I pour myself a drink and disappear into my room, not interested in family bonding time.

  All that night I keep thinking about her in the café wearing nothing but an apron, her gorgeous breasts barely covered, her full round ass waiting for my teeth to sink into her cheeks. Fucking hell, that pussy tasted good, and that ass was so fucking tight. I have to rub one out just thinking about fucking her asshole, and as soon as I come into a wad of tissues, I know how royally and seriously I’m fucked.

  This shit with Ezra is far from cleared up. He’s been working hard this past week, but only because the harvest was coming in, and that shit is his pet project. As soon as the harvest is completely finished though, he’s going to be back selling his own goddamn garbage and getting deep in with whatever shady assholes he’s hanging around these days.

  And I’m going to still be fucking his sister, which is definitely going to throw a wrench in things if he ever finds out.

  I guess I could stop. I mean, we fucked once now, and if I had any semblance of self-control I’d just walk away and be happy with that one taste. But it’s like anything good that’s very, very bad for you: one taste is never enough. I need more now. That pussy is a goddamn addiction and I can already feel it starting to take over my life.

  In the morning, I shower early, make some coffee, and try to get out the door before anyone gets up. Lizzie catches me before I can sneak out, though. She doesn’t say anything, just grabs some coffee.

  “Want a ride?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. She never does, now that I got her a bike. “I’m okay.”

  I hesitate a second. I feel like I should say something, maybe go over there and run my fingers through that hair, but I don’t. I just turn and leave the apartment.

  Fucking coward. I don’t know what my problem is. I want her, hell, I even like her, but that’s not the kind of man I am. I’m a hurricane, I blow into a woman’s life, give her a good time, and ruin it on my way out. I don’t want to ruin anything for Lizzie, though, she’s gotten enough shit from awful men already. She doesn’t need another asshole like me using her and throwing her away at the end of it all.

  I roll down my window and let my hand slide through the air in an undulating pattern as I drive toward Half Pipe. Does it have to be that way? I wonder if I could actually be good to her, actually do something good for her. Maybe she needs this to heal, to get past whatever else she has to get past. Maybe I’m doing her a goddamn favor.

  But I know that’s not true. I know I
’m just a pathetic, self-centered fucking cunt that can’t keep his dick to himself. I’m going to ruin this girl and it’s going to feel incredible.

  As I get closer to Half Pipe, I go to roll up my window but I stop. There are cars in the parking lot, but there are never cars this early in the morning. I’m always the first person in and the last person out, or at least most nights I’m last out. I drive past and pull into the lot of a carpet distributor next door, killing my engine and climbing out.

  I walk around to the right, heading behind the Half Pipe. The cars are too nice to be employees, and I’m guessing they’re not local, based on how dirty they are. No self-respecting rich San Diego asshole would let his car get that dirty, like someone was driving through the desert for a few hours.

  I make my way toward the Pipe, stopping outside the side door. I consider going in but decide against it. I have a bad feeling about these cars. I head around the back, thinking about going in through the back door for a quick peek, when I hear some voices out front.

  I creep back around the side again, staying in the bushes. I spot a group of guys, the same guys that I saw Ezra with before, carrying some bags and tossing them into the trunk of one of the cars. They climb into the others, all of them speaking Spanish, and just as they drive off I spot Ezra crossing the parking lot alone. He hesitates at the road and runs into the shopping center catty-corner to our building. I move up closer and grumble to myself when I spot his car parked in the far corner of their lot.

  “What the fuck are you up to?” I ask myself softly. I wait a few more minutes before going inside. It’s completely empty, and all of the safes look good, no money missing. I’m about to chalk it up to some early morning business deal when I suddenly get this terrible feeling in my gut.

  I walk around toward the back and head into the grow room. My heart’s hammering in my chest as I walk up to the table where they’re drying the weed, only to find about a quarter of it missing.