His Best Friend's Older Sister

by Laura Jardine

  “No.” God help him, but he couldn’t. Because it had been so fucking hot.

  “And may I remind you that it was your idea?”

  “It doesn’t feel like me.”

  “Isn’t that the point of role-playing?”

  He sighed, and he put his hand on her back and brought her down toward him. They shared a languid kiss, impossibly tender considering what they had just done.

  “I asked my best friend’s sister to dress up as a schoolgirl,” he said. “And I smacked her and fucked her hard and pretty much said I owned her pussy.”

  She inhaled swiftly. God, it was easy to get her turned on. He wanted to learn exactly what she liked, how to play her even better than he did now.

  “But I liked it,” she said. “And you’re helping me. Like I said before, you wouldn’t want me to go to some stranger, would you?”

  He couldn’t stand the thought of her being with anyone else. It drove him insane. He wanted to keep her for himself.

  Just for sex, obviously.

  He didn’t do relationships.

  “It’s so much fun to be naughty,” she said. “I’m used to being good and responsible. And making all the decisions, long before I should have. I like when someone else is in control for once.”

  “I feel like I’m corrupting you.”

  “I like being corrupted by you, Jay.”

  He needed to kiss her again, so he did. A little more desperately this time. Like he was trying to keep her, but knew it was a losing battle.

  “You’re beautiful.” He touched the tip of her nose, and she laughed, rather awkwardly.

  “Don’t feel guilty,” she said, “about something we both enjoyed. Nick never has to know.”

  They lay in silence for a while. Jay still felt a bit uneasy, but that was hardly surprising—he usually felt uneasy when he was cuddled up with a woman, worrying that she wanted more than what he was willing to offer.

  But he didn’t move away, didn’t ask Emily to leave. Because at the same time, it was nice, and it felt necessary, in a way, after what they’d just done.

  “I was thinking,” she said, a little while later—he had no idea how much time had passed. “I’m having some friends over for brunch next Saturday. Why don’t you come?”

  Usually a suggestion like that would scare the crap out of him, make him feel like things were getting too serious. But this time, he welcomed it. He wanted to do something with Emily that felt more appropriate. Perhaps it would lessen his discomfort.

  “Sure,” he said.

  “That was easier than I expected. I thought you’d ask me why.”

  “Well, then. I don’t want to disappoint you. Why?”

  She shrugged. “Partly because it will stop my friends from asking about my dating life and trying to set me up with men. Don’t worry. We don’t need to say you’re my boyfriend. Having a guy there will be enough. I just hate when people think of me as poor Emily, the perpetually single woman.”

  “You,” he said, “will find what you’re looking for one day.”

  “I still have fourteen years until I turn thirty. There’s lots of time.”

  “Why did you make me forty-two?”

  “Because it’s the Ultimate Answer. Hitchhiker’s Guide, remember? And I don’t know if anyone is a principal at twenty-eight, so I had to age you up a bit.”

  “I doubt students would know the age of the principal of their school.”

  “Shh,” she said. “Stop poking holes in our fantasy. Actually, poking holes…” Her mouth curved up mischievously.

  Christ. She was too much.

  Emily rolled on top of him and lifted the bottom of her skirt up to her hip. “Mr. Cheng, I need a cock in me again. Will you help me with my problem?”

  “I suppose I have time,” he said gruffly. “I’m not doing anything but lying on the couch in my office. Running a school is pretty easy.”

  She giggled, and then it turned into a moan when he flipped her onto her back and inched his hand up her thigh.

  Chapter Seven

  There was a sense of euphoria that came from having good sex. Emily had never experienced it before, and damn, was it ever amazing. The sun warmed her skin when she stepped outside, and everything seemed so vivid and cheerful. She would have skipped to the subway station, but she didn’t want to look like a weirdo, especially since she was already a woman in her thirties dressed like a high school student.

  She had no other plans for Saturday, and that was fine! She would have fun by herself. Her weekend had been busy so far, what with seeing Jay twice and going out for drinks with Liz, and she could use an evening alone.

  When she got home, it was nearly time for dinner, but a hot bath sounded like heaven. In part because she was a bit sore—in the best possible way. So she took off the little outfit that Jay had loved so much as she ran herself a bath with some Epsom salts. Then she poured herself a glass of white wine and climbed into the tub.

  She closed her eyes and remembered how it had felt when he shoved into her … and the sense of serenity when he held her afterward. The simple pleasure of being touched, of feeling like you were okay just the way you were.

  She had a sip of wine before putting the glass on the floor and sinking under the water to wet the rest of her hair.

  After spending half an hour in the bath, she dried her skin slowly with a fluffy towel and rubbed rose-scented lotion into her skin. She felt physical, and she reveled in her own touch. She didn’t put on a bra—that was the great part of spending the evening alone at home—and before she pulled on a T-shirt, she examined her skin. The ugly marks that she’d been taught to hate so much, that had made her feel defective. If only her acne had gone away when she’d stopped being a schoolgirl. But it hadn’t, and that was all right.

  Jay still wanted to see all of her. He still said she was beautiful.

  And she would be able to show him eventually.

  The only problem with sleeping with Jay was that while it made her more comfortable with who she was, it made him less comfortable with himself. She hated that. It was consensual, and they both enjoyed it. There was no reason to feel guilty.

  Emily made pasta for dinner, then settled in front of the TV with another glass of wine to watch a couple of movies. When she climbed into bed at midnight, that good-sex feeling still lingered, and she sent Jay a couple of texts before she fell asleep.

  ****

  Jay was a little late getting to his parents’ house because he’d been otherwise occupied with Emily. They sat down to dinner as soon as he arrived, Jay and his parents and his sister. Chelsea was currently living at home, working at a restaurant, and trying to figure out what to do with her life.

  There was wonton soup, chicken, pork, rice, noodles, and bok choy. It was too much food for four people, and there would be leftovers. There always were. His mom loved sending food home with him.

  “It was nice to see Emily at the wedding,” his father said, picking up his chopsticks. “We hadn’t seen her in years.”

  Jay couldn’t help but remember her bent over his couch, naked ass in the air.

  Not what he should be thinking about when he was having dinner with his family.

  “She looked really good,” his mother said. “Does she have a boyfriend? She didn’t bring anyone to the wedding.”

  “No.” Jay tried not to glare at the bowl of noodles in front of him. “Not that I know of.”

  “It’s sad.” His mother clucked her tongue. “She’s a lovely woman and she’s running out of time.”

  “Mom!” Chelsea said. “She’s only what, thirty? She’s hardly over the hill. She has lots of time to have babies, and she doesn’t need a boyfriend to do that anyway. Plus a woman doesn’t need a man and a family to be happy. It’s not sad.”

  “But most people are happier that way.”

  “Then why is the divorce rate so high?” Chelsea shot back. “People do these things because it’s expected of them, but that doesn’t me
an it’s the best option for everyone. Not,” she turned toward Jay, “that I’m anything but happy for Nick and Diana. It was a nice wedding.”

  “Yes, it was,” Jay said.

  “Or perhaps Emily’s a lesbian and she’s not out yet,” Chelsea went on. “And Jay, why the hell are you looking at me like that? It’s possible, isn’t it?”

  Well, she’s definitely interested in men. Though of course she could be interested in women, too.

  “Has she had any boyfriends in the past?” his mother inquired.

  “Yes.” Jay reached for the chicken. “Not that I’ve met any of them. I don’t see her all that often.” Except for this weekend. “But I know she’s had some.”

  And since she’d never enjoyed sex before, clearly there was a problem with the quality of these boyfriends. The first one in particular, he wanted to punch in the stomach.

  “See?” his mother said triumphantly to her daughter.

  “That doesn’t mean anything. Many people hide who they are. There are lots of reasons—”

  “All right,” Jay said. “I don’t see the point in debating Emily’s sexual orientation.”

  His mother turned back to him. “Tell Nick we would like to have him and his family over for dinner. It would be great to see them all again. We haven’t talked to them much since they moved out of the neighborhood.”

  “Okay. Sure.”

  “In some ways Emily was like a daughter to me,” his mother reflected. “There was a time when I was the one she would go to for help.”

  “Unlike me, she actually wanted your help,” Chelsea said.

  “Well, yes. Because she had no one else. When she was thirteen and got her period—”

  “Mom,” Jay said. “This is totally weird.”

  He’d had sex with Emily a couple of hours ago, and now his mother was talking about her like this, saying she thought of her like a daughter?

  Wait. Was this supposed to be a hint that he should think of going out with Emily Branson? That his mother would love her as a daughter-in-law?

  No. Surely it didn’t mean anything like that.

  But then his dad paused between bites of noodles and gave him an odd half-smile, and Jay wasn’t sure what to think.

  ****

  Jay had planned to stay at his parents’ house for a while, but at nine o’clock, Nick texted him, saying that Diana had kicked him out of the apartment for the evening, and would he like to go to the bar?

  Umm … what? They’d been married all of two weeks, and they were already having problems?

  Of course Jay said he was free to grab a few beers.

  He met Nick an hour later at the bar across the street from his condo, the one he’d gone to last night. They took a table by the window and ordered IPAs.

  “Trouble with the wife?” Jay asked.

  “Yeah. She said I was doting on her too much.”

  Jay howled with laughter. “Okay, man. But you shouldn’t have let me think there was a real problem. Or did you say that just to guilt me into going out with you?”

  “You think I… No. We just got married. How could you think there was actually something wrong?”

  “Saying she kicked you out… Gee, I wonder why I might have thought that?” But this was Nick and Diana. He shouldn’t have worried. “So how were you, uh, doting on your wife?”

  Nick had a gulp of beer. “We got back from the honeymoon on Thursday.”

  “How was it?”

  “It was great. Banff is beautiful. Can’t believe I’d never been before. But there were too many fucking tourists. You should go someday. It’s kind of romantic. Totally your thing.”

  Jay made a face.

  Nick laughed. “It was the first time we’d gone away for more than a weekend. We spent every minute together for over a week. I guess Diana wanted some time alone when we got back. But I showered her with homemade candlelit dinners and flowers and chocolates and massages and romantic movies. Then today, when I whipped out the…Well, you don’t want to hear it.”

  “No, I think I do.”

  “Maybe I refuse to tell you. Because I know you’ll laugh.”

  “Come on. I need another laugh today. It was a long, stressful week at work.”

  Nick eyed him suspiciously. “You look pretty relaxed to me.”

  Because I’ve been screwing your sister.

  The reality of what he was doing slammed into him. His mind had been on other things when he arrived, but now he couldn’t push those thoughts aside, especially not when a waitress in a kilt walked by.

  He’d spanked Emily and called her a slut.

  She just had to be Nick’s sister, didn’t she?

  Jesus.

  Jay shrugged, forced himself to smile. “The beer’s helping. But come on, man, I want to hear what lame-ass thing you did today.”

  Nick had become totally mushy after meeting Diana. It was painful to watch, but highly entertaining at the same time. And rather sweet.

  “When you meet someone, you’ll understand,” Nick said, not for the first time.

  Jay didn’t bother saying, yet again, that he just didn’t see that happening. He felt like he ought to want what Nick had, but the truth was, he didn’t. He liked his single life, thank you very much. He wasn’t suited to long-term relationships.

  “Yeah, yeah,” he said. “One day we can swap stories about how pussy-whipped we are.”

  Nick cracked a smile.

  “How does it feel to be married? Any different?”

  “Not really. We’d already been living together for a year. But I’m happy we’re married. Official and everything.” He had a sip of beer. “My mom sent us a present. Serving dishes made by some artist in Ottawa. Decorated with bizarre paintings of mice and rabbits and other woodland creatures. They’re kind of hideous.”

  “A mouse is just what I want to see when I’m eating.”

  “Yeah, exactly.”

  Nick tapped his fingers against his glass. “I’m actually glad she didn’t come to the wedding. I think it would have been awkward.”

  “It might have.”

  Just like it’s awkward for me, now that I’ve fucked your sister…

  But Nick didn’t notice anything was amiss. They were talking like usual.

  “Mom and I are practically strangers now,” Nick said. “But I felt like I had to invite her.”

  Jay nodded, not sure what to say. His family was simple, straightforward. Two parents, two kids. Sure, they fought sometimes, but they generally liked each other.

  Nick’s family had always been more complicated.

  Everything was more complicated now. He hoped it wouldn’t ruin his friendship with Nick. Jay didn’t see how Nick would ever find out about him and Emily, but maybe the guilt would get to him, and he’d admit the truth or start acting really damn weird.

  Perhaps he should call it off with her.

  ****

  Later that night, he got a text from Emily.

  Thank you for today.

  She was actually thanking him for sex.

  And then: I still feel amazing ;)

  It would be next to impossible to say no to her.

  He remembered what she looked when she was sprawled on the desk, the utter pleasure he felt when he slid into her…

  But it wasn’t much more than sex, even if he’d agreed to come over for brunch next weekend, and hopefully it wouldn’t get any dirtier than it already was.

  Chapter Eight

  The following Saturday, Emily returned from the grocery store at ten o’clock in the morning and set out all the food on the kitchen island. Various fruits, vegetables, eggs, bacon, smoked salmon, cream cheese, and a baguette. She smiled. She liked cooking and entertaining every now and then. Cooking for herself just wasn’t the same.

  First, she cut up fruit for the fruit salad and mixed it up in a glass bowl. Next, she cleaned the mesclun mix and put it in a matching bowl. She used a vegetable peeler to make very thin slices of carrot, which sh
e curled and secured with toothpicks before submerging them in ice water for the curls to set. After that, she toasted pine nuts and made the vinaigrette. She would dress the salad right before serving.

  This meal was going to be worthy of lots of Instagram photos. She had square white plates and white cloth napkins—everything would look just perfect.

  Nick laughed at her for caring about the appearance of food and garnishing her meals. But it was one of her little pleasures in life. She had no interest in working in a restaurant. That sounded like a load of stress. But a leisurely Saturday morning preparing food for her friends, that was different.

  Emily moved on to cutting up vegetables for the frittata. She wouldn’t start cooking it until everyone was here and the appetizers were on the table. But she got out the oven-safe pan and put all the vegetables—tomatoes and spinach and green onions—on a plate beside the stove, ready to go.

  She’d helped in the kitchen a bit when she was young, and then her mother left and her dad got depressed … and suddenly she’d been doing all the cooking, not just occasionally chopping vegetables and stirring a pot of soup.

  It had been difficult, not knowing what to do, flipping through cookbooks, trying desperately to find something that both of her brothers would eat and wasn’t too complicated to make. She hadn’t liked it at first. But once she got better at cooking and started baking with Ryan, she’d started to enjoy being in the kitchen.

  The phone rang. She wiped her hands on her apron and answered it.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Emily. It’s Jay. Could you buzz me up?”

  What? Nobody was supposed to be here until eleven.

  “Emily?”

  “Yeah. Sorry. One second.”

  She was a little annoyed when she heard the knock on the door. She was supposed to be cooking, not entertaining someone starting at ten twenty.

  But when she opened the door, she couldn’t help but smile. He was wearing jeans and a polo shirt and carrying a bouquet of mixed flowers. He was cheerful and friendly Jay now, not a perverted principal, and this turned her on, too.