His Best Friend's Older Sister

by Laura Jardine

  It became much more than that. Soon they were baking together every week—it was their Tuesday afternoon ritual. She’d used recipes to help him practice reading and fractions.

  One Tuesday she’d stayed home from school because she had the flu. When she’d woken up from a long afternoon nap, blurry-eyed and feverish and slightly nauseous, eight-year-old Ryan had proudly presented her with oatmeal raisin cookies. He’d baked them all by himself.

  She’d forced one down, even though she didn’t feel like eating, and nearly cried because she was so proud of him. Then freaked out when she realized he’d used the oven without supervision. And freaked out again when she saw the huge mess in the kitchen.

  But God, he’d been so cute.

  “The wedding cake was amazing,” Emily said. “In case I didn’t tell you before.”

  “You know you’ve told me a zillion times.”

  “I know.” Emily eyed the other cookie. She probably shouldn’t, but… Oh, screw it. She picked it up.

  Ryan leaned forward and dropped his voice. “There was a point during the ceremony when you looked kind of … sad. You okay? I assume it had to do with Mom.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe a little. I was annoyed that she didn’t bother to show up.”

  “I don’t think I’ll invite her when I get married.”

  “When you get married?” Her hand froze, halfway to her mouth. “What are you not telling me?”

  He laughed. “I knew you’d react like that. I’m just saying. I assume I’ll get married eventually, right? Most people do.”

  “Is there someone? You didn’t bring anyone to Nick’s wedding. Come on, Ryan, I demand to know every little detail of your dating life.”

  “I’m not sure you want every detail.”

  Lauren came over to their table. “I don’t think there’s much to tell. He has no game.”

  “Hey!” Ryan said.

  “And you work all the time.”

  “This is true.”

  “But,” Emily said, “dating a man who can bake like you do would be a dream come true for most women.”

  “And what about you? Do I get any details on your dating life?”

  A lie would be a lot more fun than the truth.

  “The last guy I dated, he always walked around with a pair of handcuffs in his back pocket. And before you ask, he was not a policeman. Well, sometimes he pretended to—”

  “No.” Ryan pulled away her cup of coffee, which was a major crime in her books. “If you come to my workplace, you play by my rules. That means no mention of handcuffs … or similar.”

  “Ooh, getting bossy now, aren’t we?” Lauren said.

  “I am the boss.”

  “Don’t worry,” Emily said. “You’ll get details when there are details I wish to share. But I haven’t been on a date in a little while, so there’s nothing to report.” Actually, it had been a long while since she’d been on a date. Or had sex. And handcuffs had certainly never been involved. But speaking of sex… “I better get going.” She stood up.

  “So soon?” Lauren asked, heading behind the counter. “I like it when you’re here. It keeps Ryan off my back. You want another chocolate chip cookie to go?”

  “Yes, please. And two ginger molasses ones, too.”

  Ryan frowned. “I thought those were your least favorite.”

  “They’re for my friend. I think she’d love them.” A lie. Emily had other plans for those cookies. “Let me pay this time. You can’t run a business if you give stuff away for free.”

  “I can totally run a business if I give three cookies a week to my only sister for free.”

  As soon as Lauren handed her the paper bag, Emily thrust five dollars into her hand and hurried to the door before anyone could object.

  She waited for the streetcar to take her west, her nerves returning now that she was alone. She was actually going to do this. She was going to proposition a guy … to teach her about sex.

  It was utterly crazy.

  ****

  Jay had thought of Emily a lot in the past week and a half. He’d thought of dancing with her and standing outside on a warm summer’s night with her. He’d thought of kissing her and sliding his finger inside her.

  But the image he couldn’t get out of his head was that of her hastily trying to cover herself up.

  And just when he’d finally stopped thinking about her all the time, she’d called him and said she wanted to come over to speak with him.

  He had no idea why. Did she want to talk about what had happened the night of the wedding? That wasn’t necessary. It would be best if they pretended it never happened.

  Jay buzzed her up, and she came to his door a few minutes later. Her hair was loose, unlike at Nick’s wedding, and she was wearing a gray skirt that ended at her knees and did a great job of showing off her curves. She also wore black heels—but much more sensible than the ones she’d worn to the wedding—and a short-sleeved striped blouse.

  He loved how women dressed for the office. Since he worked at a construction site, he saw few women, and most of them were wearing hard hats.

  They didn’t look like this.

  “Hey,” he said. “Come in.”

  She smiled and sat down on the couch. Where he’d once tried to get her naked.

  “About the wedding…” she said.

  He sat down beside her. “There’s no need to talk about it.”

  “I’m sorry for running out.”

  “It’s okay. We shouldn’t have done it in the first place, you being Nick’s sister and all.” He paused. “But just so you know, you are very pretty.”

  Emily curled a lock of hair behind her ear. “I just… I want to explain, and I have a favor to ask of you.” She handed him a paper bag. “This is to put you in a good mood so you’ll be more likely to agree.”

  He peered inside the bag. There were three cookies, including two ginger molasses ones.

  “They’re your favorite, aren’t they?” she said.

  “Yes.” He was surprised she’d remembered that.

  “They’re from Ryan’s bakery. He made a few tweaks to my grandmother’s recipe.”

  They were quiet for a minute. Jay would have said something, but he sensed she was trying to gather her courage.

  He had no idea what favor she could possibly ask of him.

  “My mother,” she began.

  Crap. Was she expecting him to play therapist?

  “I’m not expecting you to be my therapist,” she said, as through reading his mind. She laughed nervously. “Just listen for a minute or two. My mother was the first person who hated my skin. She made me feel like it was all my fault, and the rare times I saw her, she would always bring it up. But it wasn’t just her. All the girls used to tease me in middle school, when we were in the change room after gym class. It was awful. They called me ‘chicken pox.’ In grade nine, there was a boy who showed a little interest in me. He used to walk with me to class, talk to me by my locker. And then, suddenly, he stopped. I soon learned why. One of the girls had told him what I really looked like, told him that he would run away screaming if he saw my chest. She claimed she was just looking out for me, that she was sparing me the pain of having that happen.”

  “That’s awful,” he said. “Teenage girls can be so mean.”

  “It wasn’t just the girls.” She looked down. “In my second year of university, I had my first boyfriend. The first time we had sex was the only time he ever took off my shirt. After that, he would push up my shirt and touch my breasts, and we had sex a bunch of times, but I never got naked with him again. He never said anything about it, but I knew. He hated how I looked under my clothes.”

  Jay wanted to punch this guy in the face. What a douchebag.

  “And it wasn’t just him,” Emily continued. “No guy has ever really liked how I look without a shirt. Except you. When I got home from your place and reflected on what you’d said … I started to think you’d really meant it. And there must
be other guys like you. I should be able to find someone who likes me the way I am, right? But because of my body issues, I’ve never actually enjoyed sex. That’s a problem I want to sort out before I try to have a relationship again.”

  Was she going to say what he thought she would say?

  “So I hoped… Actually, could you get me some water? I’m not used to talking so much.”

  He went to the kitchen and came back with a glass of water. When he handed the glass to Emily, he brushed his thumb over her fingers.

  “Thank you.” She gulped some water. “Okay. Here it goes. I was wondering if you could help me learn to like how I look and how to enjoy sex. I know we didn’t get off to a great start the other night, but I promise I won’t run away again. What do you think?”

  He just stared at her. Even though she’d said what he’d expected, it was a shock.

  This woman was good at something few other people were—making him speechless.

  “I’m a logical problem solver.” Her voice had started to waver. “That’s what I liked about physics. It wasn’t so much the subject, but the problem-solving part. I like figuring things out. This seems like a logical way to sort out my problems. Are you interested? I don’t think it’s too much of a hardship…”

  A hardship? Certainly not.

  “Baby, every man’s dream is to have a hot woman offer him sex. But…”

  “Nick,” she finished. “Yeah. Though I think the damage has already been done, since we got to second base the other night. Or third base, depending on which version of the baseball metaphor you’re using.”

  “In my version we only got halfway to second.” He raised his eyebrows.

  She blushed slightly, as he’d hoped. Who said red skin wasn’t attractive?

  He didn’t think this was a great idea, but she had a point. They’d already fooled around. Would it be that much harder to look Nick in the eye after sleeping with her?

  “It’s just sex,” she said. “You can see other women. And I promise there will be no feelings involved.”

  Jay froze. He’d heard those words before. It didn’t always work out so cleanly.

  He’d be okay. He cared for Emily, but not like that. But sometimes women developed feelings for the man they were sleeping with, even if that hadn’t been part of the plan. It had happened to him more than once.

  What if he became something more to Emily?

  It would be a mess.

  He was not risking his closest friendship for sex, no matter how appealing the package.

  And it was very appealing.

  He wondered how he’d ever get anything done if he worked in her office. That shirt, and the skirt that hugged her hips…

  Jay shook his head. He might not have been able to knock sense into his head at Nick’s wedding, but he would do it now.

  “I think you better leave,” he said. “We can’t do this. But thank you for the cookies.”

  “Alright.” She stood up. “If you don’t think you’re equal to the task, then I’ll leave.”

  Not equal to the task?

  Not equal to the task?

  He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her against him, her breasts pressing against his chest. And he kissed her.

  At first he was rough. Angry, needy. But then he gained some semblance of control over himself, and he explored her mouth more tenderly. She responded, her lips moving over his, an incredibly erotic dance.

  She tasted sweet, her mouth soft and warm and perfect.

  He unbuttoned his jeans and shoved her hand inside his boxers.

  “That’s second base, darling,” he said as she curled her hand around his cock. “And I am definitely equal to the task.”

  Emily quirked her lips. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to let that go.”

  She’d been playing him.

  Jay let out a short burst of laughter. But it did not diminish the sexual tension between them. Although she pulled her hand out of his pants, he was very much aware of the curved softness of her and the spark in those brown eyes.

  “I’m sure you’d enjoy it with me,” he murmured before shifting away from her.

  But a man did not screw around with his best friend’s sister. Even if she was an older sister. It was totally against every code in the book.

  He turned away from her. “Leave before you drive me any crazier. This is still not happening.”

  “Very well.” Emily’s voice brushed his neck. “I’ll find someone else.”

  Oh, he did not like the sound of that. But he would let her go. He curled his hands into fists at his sides.

  She’s Nick’s sister.

  “I have no idea who,” she said. “But I’m sure if I go to the bar down the street, I’ll be able to find a guy who wants to help me learn to enjoy sex. I might not even know his name but … he’ll be willing.”

  Dammit. It was like waving a red cape in front of a bull.

  And she knew exactly what she was doing.

  He wasn’t just jealous. He was protective. He did not want her sleeping with strange men. There were some real assholes out there—who knew what would happen to her? Plus, based on her past experience, many men were unable to appreciate her for who she was.

  At least with him, she would be safe. And appreciated.

  Once again, Jay concluded that he’d be doing his friend a favor. He’d be protecting Nick’s sister. By sleeping with her.

  The logic was a bit twisted, but he didn’t care anymore.

  She wanted him. He wanted her. They were consenting adults. He would be good to her.

  Nick didn’t have to know.

  And there probably wouldn’t be any pesky feelings involved. After all, she just saw him as a logical solution to her problem. That was hardly romantic. He doubted he was the sort of guy Emily Branson would like as a boyfriend.

  “Alright,” he said. “You win, Em.”

  Jay pulled her into his lap and kissed her again, one hand cupping her cheek. When she started squirming—it didn’t take long—he lifted her up and set her on the floor.

  “Should we go to the bedroom?” she asked, her voice breathy.

  “Not today.”

  She nodded. “There’s no reason we can’t do it out here.”

  “No. I want you to leave.”

  “But you said—”

  “Yeah.” He gave her a lazy smile. “We’ll sleep together. Don’t you worry. But I want you to think about it for a few days first.”

  “In case I change my mind? I won’t.”

  “It’s not that.” He ran his tongue along the seam of her mouth, but he didn’t slip it inside, even when she parted her lips. “I want you desperate when we fuck for the first time.”

  “I am rather desperate already. I haven’t had sex in three years.”

  “If it’s been three years, what’s another three days? We can do it on Friday.” He pushed her toward the door. “Your place?”

  ****

  When Jay was trying to fall asleep that night, when he was making a pot of strong coffee the next morning, when he was heading to work…

  The memory of how she felt, how she smelled, it haunted him.

  Not only was he turned on, but he was anxious about Friday, too…although he didn’t want Emily to know that.

  Usually he was confident in his bedroom skills. He was good at pleasing a woman, and he was good at making people feel comfortable, in and out of bed. He was not the sort of person who inspired fear or unease.

  But Emily had freaked out last time, and he really wanted this to be good for her.

  And then on Thursday at work, he had a wonderful, filthy idea.

  There was a group of men standing nearby, wearing hard hats and work clothes. They were supposed to be working, of course—as he would tell them in a minute. But it reminded him of a video he’d seen a while back that took place on a so-called construction site. Three guys and a girl in the middle.

  Porn often involved silly set-ups like that. And
if Emily pretended to be someone else, perhaps it would help her feel more sexual and less self-conscious.

  Nick’s sister. Nick’s sister.

  Screw that. He’d already decided to sleep with her.

  Jay called her after dinner.

  “Hi!” she said. “Are we still on for tomorrow?” As though they were talking about grabbing coffee or lunch together.

  “Yeah. I was just thinking…” He gripped the arm of the couch, then told himself to relax—not something he usually had to remind himself to do. “The first few times, I promise I won’t take off your shirt. So you don’t have to worry about showing your skin.”

  “Okay. We’ll see if I enjoy sex without nudity. Good idea.”

  It was strange to talk about sex like this. Not flirtatiously. But he continued.

  “And I thought we could try role-playing. Recreate those scenarios you see in pornos. Teacher and schoolgirl, doctor and patient, boss and secretary…”

  There was silence at the other end. Well, perhaps that suggestion had been a bit much.

  “Don’t tell me you haven’t watched porn,” he said, trying to keep it light. “I’m sure you have, out of curiosity if nothing else.”

  “I’m a horrible actress.”

  “Then maybe you haven’t seen porn. A lot of porn stars are horrible actresses, too. You don’t need to be good at acting.”

  She chuckled, but said nothing.

  “We don’t have to,” he said. “I thought doing something fun and ridiculous might get you out of your head. Help you feel more comfortable. But if—”

  “Boss and secretary. That one.”

  He dug his fingers into the couch cushion.

  “Are you the boss?” he asked. “Or am I?”

  “You.”

  “Thank God.”

  “I’m counting on you to wear a suit.”

  “Hey. I’m the boss,” he said. “I get to decide what I wear. But I’ll do it for you.”