Roomies with Benefits: A Brother's Best Friend Baby Romance

by Amy Brent

  “Obviously,” Melissa said. “And you have to kick his ass for taking it in the first place. What a sleazeball.”

  My phone chimed. We both stared at it.

  “Well,” Melissa urged. “Aren’t you going to check? It’s probably him.”

  I swallowed. “Yeah. Probably is.” I reached out, my fingers trembling harder than before. I read his text aloud. “Tonight. Eight o’clock. My place.”

  I lifted my gaze slowly to Melissa. She was leaning back in her chair again, her arms crossed, wearing an expression of cool curiosity. “Are you going to go?”

  My mind raced. Steven Marx was inviting me over to his house. This wasn’t for a movie night. This wasn’t to sit around and play cards while laughing over stupid stories from college. This was for something else entirely.

  This was what I had been waiting for.

  I knocked on Steven’s door at two minutes to eight. My knuckles had only hit his door three times before he wrenched it open. He wore only a pair of sweatpants. His dark hair was an unruly mess. His eyes beheld me with an intensity I had never seen there before. It lit a fire in me.

  He reached out, one hand taking my waist, and pulled me into him. The bare skin of his chest and stomach was hot and smooth. His other hand cupped the back of my neck, and he used his thumb against my jaw to force me to look up at him. He was staring at my lips.

  He leaned down, closing the distance between us with agonizing slowness. Moments before his lips grazed mine, my eyes closed.

  Our lips touched. He was gentle at first. Then, his hand at the back of my neck gripped me tighter, and his kiss grew fiercer. Before I knew what I was doing, I draped my arms over his shoulders and held on to him. My lips parted, and I let his tongue slip between my teeth. I relished in how he tasted. Mint and something sweet. Something that made my knees tremble.

  His hand around my waist held me up when I thought I might turn to butter. I could feel his teeth against my bottom lip as his kiss became hungrier. I matched his intensity, burying my fingers in his hair and tightening my hands into fists.

  I tried to cement this feeling into my memory. I was kissing Steven Marx.

  He pulled me into the house, spun us both around, and kicked his door closed. It slammed into the frame, and I felt the vibration in the soles of my shoes. He pushed me backward, step by step, down his hallway. I knew where he was guiding me when we turned right. Our lips never parted. His desperate exploration of my mouth with his tongue never ceased.

  We passed through the open doorway to his bedroom. As we walked, his fingers pulled my jacket from my shoulders. He yanked it off of me and let it fall to the ground. Then he caught the hem of my shirt, and our lips parted for the first time when he pulled it over my head. Then, breathlessly, we came back together like magnets.

  He undid my jeans. I didn’t stop him. I worked to shimmy them down over my hips as Steven unclasped my bra.

  I realized how naked I was when his hands grazed my breasts, and his thumbs flicked over my nipples. I giggled more out of excitement than anything else. He smiled into our kiss. His hands continued to caress my breasts, gliding over my skin and teasing me with the lightest touch.

  Steven’s arm wrapped around my lower back. Ever so slowly, he lowered me to his bed, his sheets soft against my bare back. I lay below him, staring up at him as he leaned over me, bracing himself with a hand planted firmly on each side of me. His face was dark in shadow, but his eyes glinted from the porch light streaming through his bedroom window.

  He began kissing me again. His lips left my mouth to trail kisses down my neck, over my collarbone, and over the line in the middle of my stomach. When he reached my hips, he stopped. He snapped my thong playfully, and it stung, sending a thrill through me.

  Then he dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed. His hands fell between my thighs, and he pushed my legs apart. He pulled my panties to the side. I watched him, hungry, desperate, as he drew closer to me.

  His tongue kissed my clit. My eyes closed of their own volition. My fingers curled in his sheets, and a breathless sigh escaped me. His tongue slid up and down over the length of my pussy, tasting me, teasing me, until I thought I was going to come undone.

  I was so close to losing control. He sensed it, and he ceased the swirling of his tongue. He stood, looking down at me like he owned me as he stripped out of his sweatpants.

  I reveled in his nakedness. He was perfection, as I already knew he was, but seeing him this time was different. I knew I was about to have him. I knew I was about to feel him inside me.

  “Please,” I breathed, begging him to hurry. I couldn’t wait any longer. This emptiness inside me was begging to be filled.

  He stroked his cock and stepped closer to me. I felt the top of his thighs against the bottom of mine; firm and warm. The tip of his hardness pressed up against me, and he moved his cock up and down, stroking my wetness, making me wait.

  “Please,” I begged again, willing him to enter me.

  When he did, everything around me vanished. I was nothing but the sex. He slid deep inside me, pushing me open and demanding I give all of myself to him. Each slow thrust stretched me further until a cry escaped my lips.

  He pressed his thumb to my clit. A quiver of excitement rushed through me. I could hear the blood hammering in my ears.

  Then, he was spreading my legs farther apart. I let him use me like a gymnast, pushing my legs back and apart, leaning into me so that he could grind his cock against my G-spot. I gripped his forearms, whimpered with delight, and then, to my surprise and delight, became a shaking mass of pleasure as my orgasm ripped me open.

  He didn’t slow. His thrusts became more powerful, more primal, and as my orgasm ended, I felt another one mounting. It built and built until I could feel the walls of my pussy closing around him. He seemed to feel it too.

  A sound in the back of his throat was enough to make me come again. His hands gripped my hips, and he pushed his weight upon me, holding me in place so that each time he buried himself in me, I couldn’t move. I gasped as he filled me with his hot, silky cum.

  Then he pulled out of me and collapsed on the bed beside me. We both lay on our backs with our eyes closed sucking in great gulps of air. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on how wonderful I felt. I had never had an orgasm like that before.

  I knew that soon I would want more.

  Chapter 7

  Steven

  Allie’s bare leg was draped over mine when I woke in the morning. It was early—probably not even seven yet. I was on my back with one arm beneath my pillow. I turned my head slowly, fearful to move and wake her.

  She was sleeping on her side facing me. Her dark hair was splayed out on my pillow in a way that made me think of a mermaid underwater. Her cheek and most of her face were nestled into the pillow, and the blankets were tucked neatly around her. She looked incredibly peaceful.

  I moved my hand to the leg she had resting on mine and rubbed her thigh gently. Her skin was smooth. She sighed softly in her sleep and buried her face deeper into the pillow.

  I wanted to know more of what she wanted. I had tried to do right by her last night, but her body and her pussy had been too much to bear. I hadn’t been able to hold on as long as I wanted.

  Her diary was tucked under my mattress on my side of the bed. I knew that all the answers I needed rested in its pages. I reached my free arm out, my fingers searching the edge of the mattress for the spine of her diary.

  Allie stirred. I froze. I drew my arm back to my side just as her eyes opened. She regarded me sleepily for a moment before closing her eyes again as she stretched.

  “Good morning, gorgeous,” I said, meaning it. I had never been with a girl who looked like Allie. She had curves in all the right places. She was sexy without trying. Even now, an hour after dawn, tired with bed head, she was beautiful. Especially now.

  “Morning,” she mumbled, lifting her head to peer at the clock on my nightstand. “Coffee,” she mumble
d. “Need coffee.”

  I swung out of bed and grabbed my boxers from the floor. I hop-stepped into them while she rolled onto her back and stretched again. She lifted her arms above her head, and the blanket slipped down her chest. Her breasts appeared, teasing me with their fullness.

  “I’ll make coffee,” I said, staring at her breasts. “You take your time.” There was no need for her to be in a hurry to put her clothes on.

  She met me in the kitchen five minutes later. She had found a blanket in my linen closet and wrapped herself up in it. Her hair was still a messy disaster, a sign that I had done at least a semi-decent job last night.

  She sat on the stool at my counter, and I handed her a mug of piping hot black coffee. She wrapped her hands around it, breathed in the steam, and took a sip. “Thank you,” she said as she closed her eyes. Looking at her now only reminded me of how she had looked beneath me the previous night. Naked, bathed in the light from the porch through the window. Like a goddess.

  “Steven,” she said slowly, pulling me out of my reverie. “I need my diary back.”

  “You’ll get it. If you come back here tonight.”

  She stared at me blankly. I couldn’t tell what thoughts were happening behind those dark eyes of hers. “I don’t know if I should.”

  “Don’t know if you should come back tonight?”

  “Yes,” she said, nodding slightly and clutching the mug of coffee tighter. “This is strange for me, Steven. I don’t know what this all means.”

  “Don’t overthink it. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

  She stared at the counter.

  “We don’t have to over complicate this by putting labels on it, Allie. We can enjoy it for what it is.”

  “And what is that?” she asked, meeting my eye again.

  “It’s whatever we want it to be. We are friends who happen to be attracted to one another. Friends with benefits. No commitments. No strings. Friends who can occasionally, or regularly, bone. What’s so confusing about that?”

  She bit her bottom lip. It drove me wild. The girl didn’t know what she did to me.

  “Fine,” she said as she stood. “I’ll come back tonight. But please, don’t read any more of my diary. It’s private, and you’ve already read enough as it is.”

  “I won’t,” I said, holding up both my hands and giving her my best “I promise” smile. “You make sure you’re back here tonight. Last night was just a sampling. A taste test, if you will,” I winked.

  “Right,” she said, making her way down the hall. When she was dressed and ready, I walked her to the door. She was quieter than usual. I assumed she was nervous, or shy, or both.

  We said goodbye, and I found myself standing in my doorway alone. I was still consumed with thoughts of her naked body on my bed.

  I went back to my bedroom where I lay on the bed and pulled Allie’s diary out from under the mattress. I turned to the last page I was on. I was hot for her again, and she had only left a minute ago. I was rock hard and had to be at work in less than two hours. The girl was going to single-handedly be responsible for a chronic case of blue balls.

  Unless, of course, I handled things on my own.

  Thursday, June 26th

  I had another dream about Steven. This one was so much better than the last. I woke up, and my sheets were wet beneath me. I had to finish myself before I got out of bed.

  It started when I was in the shower. I was alone. The water was hot. The bathroom was full of steam. Suddenly, Steven was there, opening the shower door and stepping into the stream of water with me. He was naked, and his closeness made my nipples hard. He lathered his hands with soap and rubbed me down, paying special attention to my breasts and neck.

  He pulled the shower head down and rinsed me off. When all the suds were gone, he turned me around and pushed me face first against the glass. He held me there by the nape of my neck with one hand while he used his knee to push my legs apart. Then he held the shower head between my legs.

  We stayed like that for a while. I was pressed up hard against the glass walls of the shower. I didn’t mind. The hot water against my clit was bliss. When we had done that for a while, he put the shower head back but refused to let me move. Then he finger fucked me, hard and fast, until I came.

  When I woke up, it was like it had all actually happened. My knees were weak. I was sweaty. I could almost smell the soap.

  The one entry was enough for me to finish myself. It left me feeling like I was floating. It was easy to picture Allie in the shower, her breasts glistening with water droplets. I needed to know what her skin would feel like beneath my palms when she was wet and covered in soap. I wanted to hold that shower head between her legs for her.

  In fact, I wanted to do every damn thing to her she had written down.

  I was eager for her to come back that night. I wanted to fuck her again. I wanted to show her a whole new world of pleasure. One where she wouldn’t be concerned with whether or not having sex with me was confusing. I wanted to take the confusion entirely out of the equation for her.

  If I could make her feel how she wanted, I was confident I could pull it off.

  I wanted to keep reading her diary, but I knew I was running out of time to get ready. I needed to be at work in an hour and a half. I was starving and needed to shower.

  I tucked Allie’s diary back in its hiding place. Resisting the temptation to read just one more entry was brutal. But I refrained from going back to it.

  I got in the shower, thinking only of the entry I had just read. I doubted I would ever be able to shower again without thinking of Allie under the water. I pictured how her breasts would look pressed up against the glass. I thought of her pussy, ready and dripping with warm water, as she showed me her back.

  I was hard again. This was getting frustrating. No girl had ever consumed my thoughts like this. No girl had ever made it so impossible to focus on other things. All I could think about was the sex. The amazingly hot sex.

  Tonight I would work her over harder. I would fuck her until she couldn’t stand it anymore. I would take her over the back of my couch until she came.

  I would fuck her until she screamed my name.

  Chapter 8

  Allie

  I stood staring at Steven’s front door. I had finished my day at work. I had never worked such an unproductive shift in my life. All I could think about was what had happened last night. I had told myself that I would come to his place tonight and get the diary. Then I would leave. I would keep it together, and I would leave.

  I knocked.

  Steven opened the door. He was dressed, but my brain instantly removed his clothes.

  He leaned lazily against the door frame. That handsome smirk of his that did all kinds of things to me played on his lips as he looked at me.

  “Well, hey there,” he said, his voice deep and sensual.

  “Hi,” I said, my own voice not nearly as loud as I had hoped it would be.

  He stepped aside to invite me in.

  Tell him you only want your diary, a little voice screamed in my head. Tell him it was wrong of him to take it, and you want it back. Tell him that’s all you came for.

  I turned to face him. He was still giving me that coy smile. God damn, he was so fine. That heat below my belly bloomed again. I swallowed. “Steven,” I said softly. “I need you to give me—” My diary! Give me my diary!

  The words never came. Instead, I threw myself at him. I had lost complete control of myself again. He wrapped his arms around me and crushed me against his body. Our lips locked again. I moaned into our kiss in anticipation of what was to come.

  He scooped me up into his arms and carried me to the living room. He put me down behind the sofa and spun me around. Then, he drew me close against him, so my ass was against his groin. His cock was hard, and a ripple of desire shot through me.

  His hands found the front of my pants. He undid them with a quick flick and yanked them down. He nearly pulled me
off my feet.

  I braced myself on the back of the couch. He pulled my underwear down. I didn’t even have time to step out of them. They were still wrapped around my ankles when his hand glided up my inner thigh and rested in the space between my legs. A whimper of excitement floated in the air, and I realized a moment later that the sound had come from me.

  I loved the way my body was taking over. My mind had stopped its incessant need to justify every action and every thought. I felt free for the first time in a long time.

  Steven leaned in close, resting his chin in the groove between my neck and shoulder. His breath was warm against my skin as he spoke. “Are you ready?” he whispered, his fingers inching ever closer to the heat between my legs.

  I nodded.

  “I can’t hear you,” he said, his chest vibrating against my back with every word.

  “Yes,” I said softly. “I’m ready.”

  His finger slipped inside me. He moved slowly, in and out, daring me to make a sound. I didn’t. I wanted to hold on to it for as long as I could.

  Another finger. I sighed and leaned my head back, resting it against his chest. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and craned my neck back further, forcing me to look up at him as he continued to fuck me with his fingers. He tightened his grip. Then he smiled at me.