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

by Amy Brent

  The text from Serena could not have been more vague or set off more alarm bells in my head. I sat at my desk and stared at the screen for a moment, unsure of how to respond.

  When I left her in my bed this morning everything seemed fine. Since returning from our weekend at Club D three days ago we’d been together every night after work. Sure, we fucked A LOT, but we also just hung out and ate and drank wine and watched TV and talked and got to know one another better. I was excited that our relationship was quickly becoming more than just sex. And I got the impression she was, too.

  Then, out of nowhere, I get this text.

  Need to talk. My apartment. Come ASAP.

  What the fuck?

  My first reaction was to text her back and ask what was going on.

  My next reaction was to get her on FaceTime.

  No. That wouldn’t do.

  Something told me this was a conversation best had in person.

  Fuck.

  I knew it was too good to be true.

  Well, I had never been dumped by text before.

  And I sure as hell didn’t plan to start now.

  If Serena was giving me the boot she was going to have to look me in the eye to do it.

  I texted her back and called downstairs for my car.

  On my way.

  * * *

  “Hi, thanks for coming so quickly,” Serena said as she opened the door to her apartment and waved me in. She gave me a cursory smile, then let it drop quickly as she glanced down the hallway behind me, as if she expected to find someone else lurking there.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, giving her a hug that was cordially returned.

  “Yes, fine, we just need to talk,” she said, closing and locking the door. Her behavior was a little unnerving, and for a moment, I wondered if an old boyfriend had come back into the picture and confronted her about us. Or if she’d just had a change of heart and decided I was not the guy for her.

  I’m a big guy with a black belt in Karate, so I wasn’t too concerned about ex-boyfriends being assholes, but Serena was acting nervous as a cat, as if she expected the door to be kicked in at any moment.

  “Come, sit,” she said, forcing the smile again as she took my hand to lead me into the living room. She parked me on one end of the sofa and she curled up on the other end. I could tell by her face that something was wrong. People with good news never have that look in their eye.

  She stared at the cushion between us and bit her thumbnail for a moment as if she were considering what she had to say. I took the time to let my eyes drift around her face. She was beautiful even without makeup, black hair pulled back in a ponytail at the crown of her head, barefoot, painted toenails, toned legs, casually dressed in a pair of running shorts and a black t-shirt with the head of a Blue Man on the front.

  “What’s going on, Serena?” I asked, turning toward her with my arm draped across the back of the couch. “Did something happen? Has someone—”

  “My father happened,” she said with a heavy sigh that seemed to drain all the breath out of her. She put her hands in her lap and started pressing her thumbnails together. “He found out that I worked at Club D and I told him about you.”

  I didn’t know whether to smile or frown, so I tried to do both at the same time and did neither effectively. I decided a blank look was the best use of my face at that moment.

  “I take it he was none too thrilled by either point.”

  “You might say that,” she said, nodding.

  “So, he didn’t know you worked there?”

  “God no.”

  “How did he find out?”

  “I donated a purse to the church yard sale and my nosy sister-in-law found an old card that Mr. Lemon had given me the first time we met. And a pack of Club D matches with my handwriting under the cover. He put two and two together and deduced that his daughter was working as a whore at a brothel.”

  “A whore?” I wasn’t sure why, but after referring to the girls at Club D as Escorts and Specialists, the word “whore” seemed terribly old fashioned. It made me smile. “Actually, the politically correct term is—"

  “You know what I mean,” she said, cutting me off, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, after a lot of yelling and crying, I convinced him that I just served drinks there and did not service the clientele.”

  “It’s the clientele’s loss,” I said, trying to be funny.

  “Not funny,” she said, giving me a hard look. “Anyway, he’s not thrilled with me working at Club D, but so long as all I’m doing is serving drinks, he’ll live with it. I explained that I was just doing it to pay for my Masters and as soon as I got a job as a cancer researcher, I planned to quit.”

  I nodded along as she spoke, keeping my lips clamped shut. Serena quitting Club D was just fine with me, especially since I had no plans to ever go back there so long as she was in my life.

  I asked, “Did that satisfy him?”

  “It did and it didn’t,” she said, head down, slowly going back and forth. “He doesn’t like it, but he understands and respects my reasons.”

  I blew out a sigh of relief. “You know, you never have to go back to Club D again if you don’t want to. I’d be happy to pay the rest of your tuition and—”

  “No!” She said the word so suddenly and forcefully that it startled both of us a bit. She held up a hand and brought her eyes up to meet mine. “I’m sorry, it’s just that, well, we need to get some things straight before we go any further.”

  I took a deep breath and pushed it out slowly. “Okay, what sort of things?”

  She turned to face me, bringing her legs up and wrapping her arms around her knees. “First of all, I don’t care about your money.”

  I huffed a smile. “That’s good because I don’t care about it either.”

  “I’m serious, Denny,” she said. “I am not with you for your money.”

  “That’s good to know, Serena. I’m not with you for your money either.”

  She smiled, then quickly forced it away. “I just want you to understand. I like you for you, and the fact that you’re a billionaire is cool, but I do not care about the money or expect anything from you in that regard. I do not want your money. I plan on working at Club D until I graduate, then I’ll quit when I find a researcher position. I do not need or expect you to pay my way. Clear?”

  “As a bell,” I said, still smiling because I was thrilled to hear that she didn’t care about the money. Since talking to Sammy, my heart and my brain had been arguing over Serena’s motives, even though she had never given me a reason to doubt her sincerity.

  Was Serena with me for me?

  Or with me for my bank account?

  Now, hearing her say the words, I truly believed with all my heart that the latter was true.

  I started to speak, but she kept going.

  “And just because we’re hanging out and having fun, that does not mean I’m going to drop my plans and marry you,” she said, frowning as if I’d made her that offer and it offended her. “I’m a strong, independent woman. I have my life totally planned out. I will not change my plans no matter how much I… like you…”

  I narrowed my eyes at her.

  “Have I asked you to change your plans in any way?”

  She blinked at me. “No.”

  “Have I asked you to marry me?”

  “No,” she said, giving me a playful look from beneath her eyebrows. “Not yet.”

  “And do you think that I don’t know how fiercely independent you are? How your independence is one of the things I like most about you?”

  She blinked again, this time with tears welling in her eyes.

  “It is?”

  “Yes, it is,” I said, bringing my hand off the back of the couch to rest on her knee. “I’m glad the money doesn’t mean anything to you. And I’m glad you have your life all planned out. And I’m proud to be the man you’re sharing your life with for the moment.” I gave her a little smile. “And maybe, I mean,
if things continue, maybe I can be the man who goes on that journey with you.”

  “I think I’d like that,” she said, resting her chin on my hand.

  I put a finger to her chin and gazed into her eyes. “Serena, I like you. I like you a lot. I love spending time with you and waking up with my arms wrapped around you and your body pressed against mine. I love your laugh. I love your sense of humor. I love your intelligence. I love the way you scream at the TV during baseball games and cry during Grey’s Anatomy. But most of all, I love your fire. Your drive. Your determination. I have never met a woman more in control of her own destiny. I would never ask you to change anything for me. Do you understand? I want you just as you are, without pretense or limitations.”

  She smiled as her eyes overflowed. “You do?”

  “I do.”

  Tears streamed down her cheeks and dripped onto my hand. I cupped her chin in my palm and leaned in to kiss her softly on the lips. Pressing my forehead to hers, I stared into her dark eyes just an inch from my own.

  “So, are we good?” I asked.

  “We’re good,” she said. “But my father would like to talk to you about that comment you made on Good Morning LA.”

  “Dammit,” I said with a grin. “I knew that comment would come back to haunt me.”

  “What’s the best part about being you, Denny Chambers?” she asked as she leaned back to spread her legs for me.

  I smiled as my hands went down her soft inner thighs and into the loose legs of the running shorts. She was not wearing panties. She was wet and hot. I could smell her juices as they flowed from her sweet hole onto my fingertips. My fingers slid in easily, soon to be followed by my tongue and then my cock.

  “What’s the best part about being me?” I asked as I pulled aside the leg of the running shorts and lowered my lips lowered to hers. “Your pussy, Serena Diaz. Duh.”

  EPILOG: Serena

  One of the hardest things I had ever had to do was convincing my Papa that the Denny Chambers he saw on TV—“duh pussy guy” Papa called him—was not the real Denny Chambers, the man I had fallen head over heels silly in love with over the last few months. That was the old Denny Chambers, the billionaire bad boy who just needed to meet a good woman who would force him—or gently nudge him— to grow up.

  The man I woke up with every morning now was the new and improved Denny Chambers. And boy, was I having the time of my life with the new version.

  For the longest time, Papa was wary of the man who was spending time with his baby girl, even though I was happier than I had ever been in my life. Work was great. I was almost done with school. And my love life was rocking and rolling in every way imaginable. That didn’t matter to Papa. He was still protective as a grizzly bear of its young cub.

  Denny was cool with Papa’s attitude and said he totally understood Papa’s desire to protect his baby girl. “Heck, I’ll let boys come anywhere near my daughter,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows at me. “I mean, if we ever have a daughter.”

  Papa had never been good at hiding his emotions, especially where I was concerned. His icy stare could stop a clock, but it didn’t stop Denny from coming around and trying to win him over. He would just smile at Papa, though he told me several times he wondered if Papa’s looks might actually be lethal if he stared at him long enough, like looking at the sun for more than a second, if the sun had been a very large, very angry, Mexican padre.

  For months, whenever Denny and Papa were in the same room, things were tense from Papa’s side, like a smoldering fire that might turn into a raging inferno at any moment. Then came Thanksgiving dinner when Denny was finally introduced to my six brothers, their wives, and fifteen kids.

  I felt bad for him (not really), this lone white guy sitting off to the side at the table with the kids. A lesser man might have been intimated or insulted, but not Denny. Each time I looked over he was smiling and carrying on playfully with the children.

  Slowly, Papa and my brothers came around. The wives already thought Denny was the hottest gringo they had ever seen, so they were an easy sell.

  Papa and the boys were still not Denny’s biggest fans, but I no longer thought that they want to kill him and bury him in concrete.

  At least not entirely.

  Maybe they’d just bury him up to his handsome neck.

  * * *

  “What are you thinking, Mr. Chambers?”

  Denny slid the sunglasses down the bridge of his nose and gave me a sideways look. We were lounging naked and sweaty on the private beach on the island Denny and his partners owned in the South Pacific. I know what you’re thinking… his money was not important, but holy smokes, sometimes it sure was nice to have.

  The white sandy beach was deserted except for we two honeymooners, and the only other people on the island were a small staff that stayed at main house. The beach where we were at that moment was totally secluded, so we had gotten into the habit of naked sunbathing every afternoon before dinner.

  Denny was lying on his back in a deck chair, his brown body covered in a fine film of sweat. His long cock was draped lazily over his left thigh, enjoying its time out in the sun. I giggled because it reminded me of a sausage on a grill. God forbid that baby burn...

  I was lying on my stomach with my big tits smashed beneath me and my round ass pointed toward the sun. I could feel the heat on my backside, but thanks to my heritage, my skin never burned.

  “I was just thinking about how much I love this place, Mrs. Chambers,” he said with a sigh. He pushed the sunglasses to the top of his head and tucked his hands behind his neck and closed his eyes to the sun. “We don’t have to ever go home, you know. We could literally stay here forever. I can work from anywhere.”

  “I can’t. And I think my new boss at the research center might have something to say about that. It was hard enough getting two weeks off for the honeymoon.” I turned onto my side and propped up onto my elbow. The sweat ran down my body and pooled on the towel covering the chair. Even my tits were dripping with sweat, and if I had not shaved my pussy for the trip, I would have been a mushy mess down there. The curls around the base of Denny’s cock glistened with sweat. Very sexy… hmmm…

  “Well, we have two days left,” Denny said with a happy sigh. “So, soak it up while you can.”

  “I was thinking about soaking up something else.” I reached over to take his soft cock in my hand. It immediately started to harden in my grasp and after a few tugs, grew to its full nine inches in my hand, all girthy and veiny and red and sweaty. Mmmm… just like I liked it.

  “What are you doing?” Denny asked as my hand slowly pumped his cock up and down, up and down, lubing it with the sweat from his body. It got even harder with each pump. The head swelled like a ripe plum, glistening and purple and oozing little drops of Denny Juice.

  “You look like you could use a hand,” I said, feeling the heat between my legs that was not coming from the sun. The moment I touched Denny’s cock my juices began to flow in anticipation of things to come. Or to cum… My pussy was gushing like a hot spring, spilling out, running down the crack of my ass.

  “I could use your pussy on my face,” Denny said, his tongue darting the air like a snake.

  “I taste like a salt block down there,” I said, getting off the chair without releasing my grip on his cock. “Would you settle for my pussy on your cock?”

  “That would do nicely.” He held out a hand. “Climb aboard.”

  Denny started rubbing my tits as I straddled my pussy over his cock and slowly lowered myself until I had taken in as much of him as I could. It felt amazing to be on the beach, in the sun, sweating despite the cool breeze, with the man I love’s cock buried deep inside my cunt.

  I braced my palms on this chest and started sliding my hips back and forth, back and forth, letting his cock slide in and slide out. Each time I pulled back my clit rolled over his shaft, sending little shockwaves through me. It took less than a minute for my first orgasm to hit. I gushed h
ot juices out over his cock and balls and kept on going toward orgasm number two.

  “Fuck… you feel… so good…” Denny sighed, his hands digging into my melon tits as my fingernails dug into his chest. “Your pussy… so fucking… tight…”

  “It’s because you’re so fucking big,” I said with a smile. I sped up the pace of my hips, slamming into him now, feeling his balls bounce against my ass with every thrust. “Fuck… I’m cumming… again… oh… shit…”

  “Cum with me baby,” Denny said, grabbing onto my hips and arching his back until I was literally lifted off the chair, riding him like a bucking bronco in a beach rodeo.

  “Fuck!!!!” The orgasm started in my toes, making them curl, then shot up my legs, bounced across my nipples, then slammed into my pussy like a tsunami battering the shore. I came in waves, hot, juicy, salty waves, slamming Denny’s cock into my cunt as deep and hard as it would go.

  “Cumming…” Denny groaned, his muscular body growing tense beneath me. A moment later, he filled me with his load. It warmed from within and oozed out of me to cover his shaft.

  “Damn…” I sighed when the waves finally stopped slamming into my cunt. I struggled to catch my breath. “That… was… fucking… amazing…”

  “Yes, it was,” Denny said, pulling me down on top of him. Our sweaty bodies slid around each other until he put his arms around me and held me tight. He put his lips to mine and smiled with his eyes.