His Best Friend's Older Sister

by Laura Jardine

  “As a businessman from out of town, I thought it made sense. So we’ll head back there now, without pretending to be anyone but who we are, and I’ll fuck you. All. Night. Long.”

  Her breathing was shaky. It aroused him even more.

  As if he needed to be more aroused right now.

  “I’ll finally get to see the lingerie that you’ve been torturing me with all day. And trust me, when I see your skin, I will be so goddamn turned on.”

  “But it’s just you who finds me attractive,” she said. “What if you’re the only one, and if you don’t want me…”

  “I’m not the only one. I could go back to that rooftop patio, and I could easily find other men to fuck you.”

  “Just because they want sex. They’d try not to look at my chest.”

  “Dammit, Emily. Stop thinking all men are like that. You’re a very desirable woman. Now tell me, do you want this one last night together?”

  One last night. The words had just popped out of his mouth. But after all that had happened, they couldn’t keep doing this.

  One last night. He needed it. And so did she.

  Jay took her hand and led her back to the hotel. It was only five minutes away, but that seemed far too long. His hand was wet on hers, from her arousal.

  “I still can’t believe you got a room,” she said. “Let me pay for half of it. I—”

  “No. I already paid. It’s fine.”

  Since Tuesday, he’d been dreaming about seducing her as a stranger at a swanky rooftop bar and taking her back to a hotel room. Stripping off her dress and making love to her all night. He’d reserved the room on Wednesday morning, desperate for this fantasy of a night.

  But now they wouldn’t pretend to be strangers. And he’d shattered her, he’d destroyed the confidence she’d developed. He didn’t know if he could fix it, but he was going to try.

  The room was on the second floor. Nothing fancy. A queen-sized bed with a wooden frame, a small table with two chairs, some interesting prints on the wall. When he’d checked in earlier, he’d spent a few minutes poking around.

  But now, he didn’t care.

  They had a room. It was private. That was all that mattered.

  Even the bed wasn’t strictly necessary.

  He stood behind her, at the foot of the bed, and wrapped his arms around her waist, nuzzled the base of her neck. She turned her head back and kissed him.

  Lips moving over lips. Tongues touching. He couldn’t get enough of it. Of tasting her, of feeling her taste him. This night—it would be forever burned into his brain.

  Jay slipped his hands under the sides of her dress and cupped both of her breasts. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Even though that wasn’t a surprise, it made him shudder. He tugged at her nipples, he squeezed and massaged her breasts. As he kissed her and kissed her and kissed her.

  His hands shaking slightly, he untied her hair, and then the bow at the back of her neck. The front of the dress fell forward, exposing her skin. He pushed the dress to the floor. Purple fabric pooled at her feet. And underneath…

  He stepped away from her. Black panties, all lace at the back—they made her ass look particularly alluring. Every curve of her was shockingly perfect. The line of her spine, the symmetry of her … those thighs…

  He came back to stand behind her. “Don’t ever think you’re anything but stunning. Ever.”

  He thought she might protest or laugh, or say that it was only because he was looking at her back, but she didn’t. He placed his hands on her hips and spun her around, then moved his hands to her shoulders and held her at arm’s length.

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “I bought a matching bra. But when I got home, I realized I couldn’t wear it with the dress, and I didn’t buy stick-on cups.”

  “I’m not complaining.” Annoyed that his view was being blocked, he circled his hands around her wrists and moved her arms down. “I want to see you.”

  “I’ll have to do this all over again with someone else.”

  “It’ll be easier next time.”

  “I don’t want to think about next time.”

  Neither did he.

  “Tonight is just you and me.” He dropped his voice to a hush. “Just you and me.”

  He covered her breast with his mouth. She tipped her head back as he swirled his tongue around her nipple, and then he pressed kisses farther up, over the skin she hated. He wondered how he could ever go back to a woman who didn’t have a purplish birthmark shaped like a flying saucer. How boring it would be.

  But he couldn’t keep her. The conversation with Nick echoed through his brain.

  He wasn’t enough. He couldn’t keep her.

  “Emily,” he murmured.

  She quickly unbuttoned his shirt, groaning when her palm made contact with his chest. Her hand was cold, so he placed his hand on top to warm it. Time seemed to expand as he laced his fingers with hers, as he shared his heat with her.

  They stood there, breathing heavily, staring at each other in the dim light, as though on the precipice of something important.

  And then he said, “I love your panties.”

  It was not the profound comment that the moment demanded, but he was not a serious guy, as he’d been reminded tonight. This was all he was capable of.

  Her panties were incredible. That was what he would focus on now.

  “But I don’t think I’ve gotten the full effect yet,” he continued. “So here’s what I’m going to do. I’ll turn on the rest of the lights and sit on the bed, and you’ll put on a little show for me.” He went to the wall and flicked on the other light switch, then turned on the bedside lamp.

  “A show?” Emily curled into herself, her back hunched. “What exactly do you want me to do?”

  Crap. She didn’t feel comfortable.

  Instead of sitting on the bed, Jay put one hand on the back of his head and gyrated his hips as he turned in a circle.

  She giggled.

  “Now you try.”

  She copied his moves with a bit of trepidation.

  “Your ass looks amazing like that,” he said. And then he strutted the length of the room, as though he was on a runway, one hand on his hip. On the way back, he wiggled his shoulders as he removed his shirt and tossed it at Emily. “Your turn.”

  “Oh.” She placed one hand on his chest, a bit warmer now. “I don’t think I could top that,” she whispered, her fingers crawling up to his collarbone. “You’re so sexy.”

  “I promise I’ll love it. Come on, do it for me.”

  She walked across the room, swinging her hips as she went, wearing only her panties and heels. It was so fucking hot.

  He clapped enthusiastically. “Now dance.”

  “Like I told you at the wedding, I don’t dance.”

  “Not even when you’re alone?”

  “Occasionally. But it’s been a long time.”

  So he started singing something from a long time ago. Spice Girls, “Wannabe.” He held up his arms and knocked his hips against hers. She started moving, too, laughing, and he couldn’t help but smile.

  He kept singing as he stripped off his pants, twirling them on one finger before flinging them on the bed. He didn’t have a great voice, but he could sing in tune.

  “Now grind against me. Like we’re at a club.”

  “I’ve never been to one.”

  This didn’t surprise him. “But you know what I mean, don’t you?”

  She put one hand behind her head, the other on her thigh. She stood in front of him and rolled her hips back, rubbing against his crotch.

  “Yeah, baby. Just like that.” He grasped her hips and moved with her.

  They danced together for a few minutes, this overtly sexual dance. His dick hardened and poked through the hole in his boxers. He couldn’t wait much longer to be inside her. Christ, she would feel so good.

  “What’s your name?” he asked, speaking directly into her ear. Not as loudly as he would have to speak a
t a club to be heard above the music.

  “Emily.”

  See, this is you, not anyone else.

  “Emily, why don’t we take this somewhere more private so you can give me a little show?”

  She didn’t hesitate. Once she’d pushed him onto the bed, she turned around and started shaking her ass.

  He got comfortable on the bed, half-sitting against the headboard, hands behind his head, and watched her move. It was mesmerizing, especially when she was clad in that little scrap of lace, covering the parts he most wanted to see.

  Emily spun around and stopped moving. She put a finger to her lips and pretended to look innocent. And then she sashayed toward the bed and crawled on top of it. She put her hands on his shoulders and started rolling her hips against him. When he reached out to touch her breast, she slapped him away.

  “No audience participation,” she said.

  He held up his hands in surrender, although it was maddening not to touch her.

  She crawled away from him and got up from the bed. She started dancing in her underwear, looking a little unsure, a little awkward, but doing it all the same. Her long hair swung about her face, and her breasts bounced as she moved.

  He whistled in appreciation.

  She kept dancing, as though making up for years and years of not doing it. Her tentative movements became free and sexy.

  “Strip, strip, strip,” he chanted.

  And she did. She took a break from dancing, just long enough to remove her panties. She twirled them in the air. They hit him in the face when she released them. He’d been so captivated that he hadn’t bothered to raise his hands to catch them.

  They both laughed. Now that she was fully naked—apart from those heels—her movements were slower, more sensual. She slid one hand between her legs, tipped her head back, and parted her lips.

  Okay, that was enough.

  He crawled to the edge of the bed and pulled her on top of him.

  “Don’t you want to see the rest of my routine?” she said.

  “Later.”

  Jay swiftly rolled her underneath him, slipping a finger inside her once more. They both groaned. She bucked her hips up against him, breathless and happy … and God, was she ever wet.

  “Now,” she said, and he wasn’t going to torture her. He took off his boxers, grabbed the condom he’d taken out earlier, rolled it on, and sank into her.

  Once he was inside her, he couldn’t move, not right away. It was just too much. Everything about it, it was too much. So hot and sweet. Intense. He cupped her cheek and stared at her, and she stared right back.

  “Come on,” she murmured, “don’t you want to keep this? Keep me?”

  He started thrusting furiously. She wrapped her legs around him and held on as he took her hard. He was angry that she’d asked him for something he couldn’t give, angry at himself for not being the guy she deserved, but he could do this much for her. He could get her to enjoy dancing in her underwear, and he could give her one hell of an orgasm.

  Jay sucked on her tits until her nipples were tight pebbles and her skin was flushed. He kissed all over her chest, lavishing attention on her birthmark and every inch of her lovely skin. When he finally kissed her lips, she went rigid and cried out into his mouth. He held her close as the orgasm washed over her, and then he continued fucking her until he, too, found his release.

  He didn’t want to move, but eventually he rolled off her and onto his stomach. She looked at him drowsily, her hands moving through his hair. She was impossibly tender with him. Even though he couldn’t give her what she wanted.

  And despite the heaviness in his heart, he drifted off.

  ****

  When Emily awoke, it was one in the morning. Jay was lying beside her, on top of the covers. Still on his stomach, but his head was turned away from her now. She ran her hand over his broad back, admiring him, and he shifted slightly, mumbled something unintelligible.

  She remembered how he’d sung Spice Girls and danced around the room with her, and she laughed softly. She couldn’t imagine the other guys she’d dated doing anything like that.

  But she and Jay weren’t even dating.

  Emily tried to push that thought away. After turning on the bedside lamp, she got up and pulled the slip she’d bought at Victoria’s Secret out of her purse. She tugged it over her head, didn’t bother with her panties, and then, with much effort, she rolled Jay onto his back and sat on top of him. Even though they’d had sex not two hours before, she was horny again now, from seeing him stretched out on the bed, every inch of him bare and strong and beautiful.

  “Wake up,” she said, and he obeyed her, his eyes flashing open and drinking her in.

  “Oh, God,” he muttered.

  “This is the other thing I bought today. What do you think?”

  It didn’t hide much. It didn’t hide her birthmark, or any of her acne, which was a bit worse than usual. It barely covered her ass, and her nipples were visible through the sheer fabric.

  She felt powerful, exposed like this.

  Because she knew what it did to him. She didn’t need him to answer her question.

  Earlier in the evening, her negative thoughts had snowballed, and she’d been self-conscious. But now her confidence was returning.

  “I love it,” Jay said. “I think you should wear it everywhere. It would cause quite a stir.”

  “It would.”

  “I kind of want to rip it off.”

  “It was too expensive for me to allow that.”

  “I can imagine. Even though it has less fabric than one of my socks.”

  She looked behind her and realized he was still wearing socks. She giggled.

  “Someday I’ll wear this for another man,” she said.

  There was a flash of … something … in his dark eyes.

  Good. She’d hoped to provoke him.

  “You will.” It sounded like he was struggling to keep his voice calm. “I’m sure it’ll make him just as hard as it makes me.”

  She rubbed herself against the underside of his cock. So, so close to having him bare inside her.

  She was so close to having what she wanted, but he’d said no.

  Emily trembled on top of him, some odd combination of arousal and despair.

  She plucked the socks off his feet, knelt beside him, and took his cock in her mouth. He hissed when her lips made contact with the hard warmth of him.

  He wanted this night to prove to her that she was desirable—and she felt desirable again now.

  She wanted this night to prove to him that they should be together for real.

  But this could be the last time she had her lips around him.

  “Slow down.” He reached out to touch her hair. “I won’t last if you keep at it like this.”

  She didn’t want to slow down. She wanted to do this again and again. But he was stronger than her, and he sat up and repositioned her so she was on all fours.

  She heard the crinkle of a foil wrapper, and he was inside her once more, taking her from behind, grabbing on to her hips as he slammed into her. His skin slapped against hers, hardly a sweet and beautiful sound.

  But she loved it.

  They didn’t speak again. They lost themselves in the rhythm of it, bringing each other pleasure, climbing toward a peak together.

  Together.

  They cried out at the same time, before they collapsed on the bed and eventually returned to sleep.

  ****

  Emily opened her eyes and looked at the clock. It was eight in the morning.

  And it was over.

  They’d made love again at five, just as the early morning light began to filter into the room. The last time, she knew.

  Jay might want a hot night of sex in a hotel, but he didn’t want a relationship with her. She hadn’t changed his mind.

  Emily was still wearing the pink slip from Victoria’s Secret. She went to the washroom and looked at herself in the full-length mirror, made
herself examine every little flaw—and there were so many of them. Whenever she saw something she didn’t like, she whispered, “I’m okay.”

  And then she danced in front of the mirror, shimmying and shaking and twirling. It did feel good to move her body like this. She would have to do it more often.

  She smiled. She could see how a man would find the woman in the mirror sexy.

  And confidence was sexy.

  Another man would find her attractive, even once he’d seen what she really looked like. And perhaps that man would be able to love her, too.

  The feeling that she was fundamentally unlovable—it hadn’t completely vanished overnight. She’d been rejected by the one person she wanted most in the world, and it would take time to recover.

  But she would get there.

  She needed to leave before Jay woke up. In the light of the morning, everything was real. They couldn’t have one more round of sex before she went on her way. She couldn’t do it. He would see it as meaningless, but it wouldn’t be meaningless, not to her.

  She left the washroom and picked up her panties—the sexy ones she’d bought just for him—as well as the purple dress. It was a little worse for wear after being crumpled up on the floor all night, but it wasn’t like she had any other choice.

  It would be quite clear that she hadn’t gone home last night. But it wouldn’t be a walk of shame. It would be a walk of pride. She’d had a night of hot sex that she could still feel between her legs, something she wouldn’t have been able to do a month ago.

  Emily got dressed, shoved the slip in her purse, and then she stared at his sleeping form.

  She would see him again. Perhaps not for a few years, but she would see him again, and he would smile easily, as though nothing had ever happened between them.

  She pressed a kiss to his forehead before she walked out the door.

  ****

  Jay opened his eyes at nine and slung an arm over the other side of the bed.

  Emily wasn’t there.

  He jerked up. Her clothes were no longer scattered across the floor. Her purse was no longer on the table. He didn’t hear any noise from the washroom.

  He wasn’t used to a woman sneaking out without saying goodbye. Especially when that woman wasn’t just a one-night stand, but something more.