The Billionaire’s Forbidden Little Sister

by Monroe, Max

  “Fuck off, Harrison.”

  “Before I go do that…” He pauses and winks. “Where is your sister? I thought I’d get to see her here tonight.”

  All of a sudden, Harrison’s penchant for joking about getting with Cap’s sister feels a hell of a lot more personal.

  Probably because you didn’t just joke about it. You actually did it, you bastard.

  Shit.

  “I swear to God,” Cap responds with narrowed eyes. “If you go anywhere near my baby sister, I will end you. She’s forbidden, asshole, got it? Every time you even come near her, your ass better picture her in the middle of a pit of poisonous snakes and bounce like a fucking coward.”

  Forbidden. That word does nothing to help the unease that’s creeping into my stomach.

  “So, what you’re saying is she’s forbidden fruit?” Harrison waggles his brows. “I love apples.”

  “I hope you’re comfortable with bugs, Whore-i-son. I hear they’re plentiful in a shallow grave.”

  “Relax, dude. I’m just screwing with you,” Harrison comforts through a laugh. “I can’t stand apples.”

  All of our other friends laugh at their exchange, but I’m too lost in a swirling pit of uncertainty and shame. I feel like the biggest dick on the planet.

  If Cap knew—if he really knew what went down between Lena and me in Positano—I’m pretty sure he’d end me. Just straight-up homicide my ass with little to no regard for mess.

  I can already see the headlines now. New York man murdered by his best friend because he accidentally went against Bro-Code. The judge has offered the murderer leniency, though, because everyone knows you don’t mess with a man’s sister. If anyone cares, the funeral for the dead asshole will be held next week.

  Son of a bitch. What did I get myself into?

  I’m the last fucking guy Cap would ever expect to do something like this, and yet, I did. Unknowingly, sure, but it happened, and I can’t fucking take it back now.

  You mean, you don’t want to take it back, and if you had the chance, you’d do it all over again…

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  “You know, Cap,” Maybe chimes in with a knowing smile. “I’m pretty sure you don’t have to worry about Lena. She can handle herself.”

  “Who shouldn’t have to worry about me?”

  With the amount of times I glanced at the door tonight, it’s completely ironic, but Lena’s arrival takes me off guard.

  And just like that, my heart tries to make its departure from my chest.

  Those gorgeous blond curls, those big blue eyes, the full, pink lips—and that body, clad in a formfitting black dress with a plunging neckline and stilettos that elongate her legs—have all sorts of delicious memories filling my head.

  Goddamn. Just start planning out my funeral now because I am so fucked. Closed casket, okay? I don’t want to scare anyone with the pulp Cap’s attack is sure to make of my face.

  “Your big, overprotective brother,” Maybe explains on a laugh and then pulls Lena into a hug. “And I’m so happy you finally made it.”

  “You mean my annoying brother,” Lena says and flashes Cap a side-eye. “And I’m sorry I’m late. I wanted to get here sooner, but there was a bit of a dress emergency at Loro’s studio.”

  Maybe takes it all in stride, not the least bit concerned. “Hey, I’m just happy you’re here.”

  But Harrison, the tipsy idiot, steps up with a confident, albeit teasing, smile. “Hello, Lena. I’m Harrison.”

  “Harrison?” she asks, testing his name on her tongue. “I’m pretty sure I’ve heard about you.”

  “All good things, I’m sure.”

  “No,” Cap chimes in. “Not good things at all, you fucker.”

  Harrison chuckles. “Don’t believe a word he tells you. I’m one of the nicest guys around. A regular Boy Scout.”

  My lips press into a firm line at his words. Suddenly, I’m not a fan of Harrison’s teasing bullshit either.

  Lena feigns disappointment. “Aw, well, I guess it’s too bad I’ve never been one for Boy Scouts, huh?”

  “What I meant to say was…” Harrison quickly changes his tune. “I’m nice, but I’m not that nice. I’m—”

  “The bastard who is going to shut the fuck up before I put my boot up his ass.” Cap cuts him off, and it’s in that moment that Lena’s eyes meet mine.

  Curious, a little nervous, she searches my gaze while her brother lays into Harrison.

  As thrilled as I am by Cap’s razzing, I’m having a hard fucking time focusing on any of it.

  All I can do is stare back at her.

  I mean, what am I supposed to do here?

  A thousand different scenarios roll around in my mind, and not a single one of them is going to work in our current situation.

  I can’t ask her if she ever looked inside her notebook again and saw that I wrote her a little note beneath the rules.

  I can’t ask her why she didn’t come to say goodbye before she left.

  I can’t ask her why she wrote that fucking letter.

  Hell, with her fire-breathing brother just a couple of feet away, I can’t do anything but offer a neutral hello and a good to see you again and prepare to stand there when she does the same.

  So instead, I don’t say anything. I drink my whiskey and listen to the chatter around us and try to act more engaged in the goings-on than a man in a coma.

  At least, that’s what I pretend I’m doing. In reality, I’m mostly watching her out of the corner of my eye, wondering what’s going through her head.

  Is she just as confused as I am?

  Does she regret not saying goodbye?

  Does she regret being with me in the first place?

  God. I have so many questions, and all the while, it feels like she’s doing her best to keep her distance from me.

  When music filters in through the greenery and most of the couples head toward the dance floor, I start to wonder if she’s going to avoid me the entire night.

  I make my way out to the terrace, desperate to escape my overactive mind and the crowd of happy couples. I take a deep sigh, lean into the railing, and close my eyes.

  My lungs feel heavy and my chest aches, but the unexpected tap on my shoulder cures both in an instant.

  “Hi,” Lena says, her voice hesitant and unsure. It’s so unlike the confident, outspoken woman I met all those weeks ago.

  Ivy and roses and twinkle lights encase us in their shadows, and a sliver of a crescent moon leaves us just enough darkness to ensure our privacy.

  We’re alone.

  Just her and me and every complicated emotion between us.

  Suddenly, I feel the best I’ve felt in the last three weeks.

  “Hi,” I say back, rubbing the tips of my fingers together to keep myself from reaching out for her hand.

  “So…this is all unexpected…”

  I nod. “It is.”

  “Did you…uh…know who I was?” she asks, and I can easily read through the lines.

  “I didn’t know you were Cap’s sister.”

  “Yeah.” She sighs. “I didn’t know you were, you know, friends with him.”

  Besides the beat of live music filtering in through the foliage, silence is the only thing filling the space between us. It stretches its arms, cocooning all of the unsaid words and questions and confusion that are unable to leave either of our lips.

  Until she whispers, “I’m sorry, Theo.”

  I open my mouth to offer an apology of my own, but she holds up a hand.

  “I’m sorry about the note…and the whole not saying goodbye thing.”

  She looks so damn genuine, her eyes wide and apologetic, I find myself wanting to remove the discomfort from her face, to offer her some sort of salve despite the shitty way Italy ended.

  “It was a dick move,” I tease, “but I guess, in a weird way—in some alternate universe, pod person, alien invasion of your brain type of way—I kind of understand.” A little smile k
isses her lips, and I can’t stop myself from closing the distance between us, stepping toward her until we’re as close as two people can be without touching.

  Which, of course, makes the urge to touch her overwhelming.

  I reach out and brush a few of her silky curls behind her ear, and her eyes flutter closed, a shaky inhale of air into her lungs disturbing the air between us.

  “Do you hate me?” she asks, her voice barely a whisper.

  I shake my head.

  “Are you mad at me?”

  Maybe I should be mad at her. Maybe I shouldn’t want anything to do with her.

  But, fuck, the only thing I’m feeling right now, enveloped in her scent with the silk of her hair in my hand, is that I want to pull her into my arms and press my lips to hers. I want to hear her familiar moans and feel the way her body softens and warms to my touch.

  I want her.

  “I’m not mad at you, Lena.”

  Quiet surrounds us again, and I can’t pull my eyes from hers. I’m tempted, so fucking tempted, to do more than just stand here—to touch her, taste her, bury myself in her perfect warmth—but even lust-drunk, I know better than to get physically involved with my friend’s forbidden little sister while he’s in the same building.

  Right?

  I mean, surely, I know better.

  “Where do we go from here?” she asks, her big blue, yearning eyes staring up into mine, and I just kind of…forget about everything—where we are, why we’re here, who is here.

  Hands to her hips and lips to her mouth, I close those last few inches of space between us and kiss her.

  She doesn’t pull away.

  A moan escapes her pretty mouth and her body leans into mine, and before I know it, we’re all lips and teeth and tongues and kissing each other…hard.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  “Theo, this is bad,” she whimpers against my mouth, but she keeps fucking kissing me. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

  “No, we shouldn’t.” I shake my head, but I can’t tear my mouth away from hers. Can’t remove my fingers from her curvy little hips.

  My fingers move up her sides and caress her arms and her breasts, and then move down her back to grip her perfect little ass through her tight-as-fuck dress.

  “Definitely shouldn’t.” She moans and presses her hips into mine, and her nails scratch through the material of my dress shirt. “Theo.”

  I feel like an addict, fresh out of rehab, who’s just got his hands on his next fix.

  I know I shouldn’t give in.

  I know I should say no.

  But, yeah, fuck.

  Two steps back, she leads me onto the couch behind us, and it doesn’t take long before her thighs are straddling my lap and her perfect breasts are in my face.

  I slide the material of her dress down with my teeth, revealing one pert, hard nipple. I don’t hesitate to wrap my lips around it, sucking it into my mouth while she grinds against me.

  We’ve gone mad. Insane. We’re playing with fire right now, but fuck if I’m looking for water to put out the flames.

  “Theo,” she moans again and pulls my mouth back to hers.

  I’m so damn close to sliding my cock out of my pants, pushing her panties to the side, thrusting inside her, and losing complete control.

  But the music stops for a brief moment, the laughter of my friends filtering into my ears through the newfound silence, and I realize just how foolish this is right now.

  We might be temporarily hidden from anyone’s eyes, but we’re not alone.

  We are in a public place—at a fucking party.

  One that is being attended by people we both know, including her overbearing, overprotective, overly crazy big brother.

  Lord Almighty.

  “Shit, Lena,” I mutter, and it takes everything inside me to pull my lips away from hers. “Not here. Not like this.”

  Lena

  Oh my God. What am I doing right now?

  I look at Theo and then down at our bodies. I’m his lap, my thighs are spread, and my dress is in absolute disarray—oh my god, my freaking boob is out, for fuck’s sake!

  And I’m at Maybe’s freaking bachelorette party.

  “Oh, holy hell,” I mutter and quickly remove myself from the man who is apparently my ultimate temptation. Not only did he have the power to break my ironclad, months-long streak of no sex, but now he just had me seconds away from riding him like a cowgirl in the middle of a party.

  Shit. Off his lap and with my hands manically adjusting my dress, I put space between us while I try my damnedest not to look like a woman who has lost her freaking head—which feels next to impossible since my wits are scattered all across this fucking rooftop terrace.

  “Holy shit. That was…” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It was… Fuck, I don’t know what that was…”

  “Insane!” I whisper-yell. “It was fucking insane! We are insane!”

  “Fuck.” He shakes his head and grips the back of his neck. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

  It’s safe to say I’m not the only one who feels like they’ve lost their freaking mind.

  “This…” I whisper and put a hand to my mouth, but the instant my fingers touch my lips, all I can do is remember how good his mouth felt on mine. “Oh my God, what is wrong with me? What is wrong with us?”

  He doesn’t respond, but how can he?

  We both know we were just seconds away from taking it a little too far.

  Uh…taking it a little too far? You almost had freaking sex in the middle of a party! One where your brother is an attendee!

  Oh, mother of horny, reckless bad decisions, I’ve really fucked up.

  And that’s saying a lot coming from a girl who spent the first twenty-seven years of her life impulsively fucking up a lot.

  God, I don’t want to be this person anymore.

  I don’t want to be the girl who can’t be clearheaded and rational, who can’t do anything but dive headfirst into spontaneity without thinking about the consequences.

  I’ve been working so hard to not be that girl.

  “This was bad. This is bad.”

  “Yeah.” Theo shuts his eyes and puts his head into his hands. “This was definitely the opposite of good.”

  If I felt anything other than mania right now, I might find it funny that a man as brilliant as Theo couldn’t come up with something better to say.

  As it is, all I can focus on is escape. Given the choice of fight or flight, I am a fucking airplane.

  “I…I think I should go,” I whisper toward him, turning to leave with a whip of my hair and a plant of my heel.

  He stands to his feet quickly and lays a gentle hand to my cocked elbow.

  “Lena, wait…”

  His words hit me straight in the chest, and the genuineness in his eyes when I look back to meet them steals my breath. Fuck, the temptation to go back to him, to kiss him again, is almost too strong to resist.

  But the fear of what might happen if I don’t walk away right now wins out.

  “I’m so sorry, Theo, but this, this is just too much,” I whisper. “I just…yeah…I should definitely go.”

  And then, I do the only thing I can do.

  I walk away. Again.

  Lena

  I may be the girl who usually arrives late to the party, but dammit, I always leave last.

  I don’t check out early. I’m all “No Sleep Till Brooklyn,” and I certainly don’t head home before freaking midnight.

  Yet, here I am, sitting on my couch, watching Bravo.

  Sure, I love Andy Cohen, but this is not how my night should’ve ended.

  I should still be partying it up with Maybe and celebrating her and Milo’s final days of singledom before they officially tie the knot in two weeks.

  Yeah, but you most definitely shouldn’t be having sex with Theo—like you almost did—in the middle of said celebrations.

  A million knots
clench my stomach, and I slap a bare palm to my forehead.

  Question: Dear God, what was I thinking?

  His answer: You weren’t.

  Yeah. Pretty sure the fact that my dress was practically around my waist and one of my tits was in Theo’s mouth is evidence of that.

  Could you imagine if someone had seen you?

  If Cap had seen you?

  Ah fuck. The knots grow thicker, and I stand up from the couch and pace my living room.

  While Andy Cohen waxes poetic about Jennifer Lawrence, I pound my feet back and forth across the creaky hardwood floor until my jerk of a downstairs neighbor—otherwise known as Larry, who smells like incense and patchouli—bangs something against his ceiling and startles me to a stop.

  “Geez! What are you doing up you there! Running a freaking marathon?”

  “Slow your roll, bro!” I shout back and pound my feet to punctuate my statement. “If you don’t mind, I’m in the middle of a nervous breakdown up here!”

  “Yeah, well, could you break down a little quieter? We’re trying to have a meditation sesh down here!”

  A mediation sesh. For the love of everything.

  “No! I can’t!” I yell back. “My life has gone to shit!”

  “Nothing is that bad!”

  Oh, Larry, you fucker, you have no idea!

  “Yeah, well, thanks a lot for the TED Talk,” I scream at the top of my lungs. “But I just found out I’ve been fucking my brother’s best friend! By accident!”

  Silence.

  Then, “Okay! Okay! My bad! By all means, carry on!”

  Yeah. Even my lazy, constantly pot-smoking neighbor understands my dilemma, and that dude’s brain is probably so fried that, besides rolling blunts and cleaning his bong, he doesn’t understand much of anything these days.

  With Larry’s disruption no longer a distraction, my pacing leads into the hallway which leads into my bedroom. And when I’ve done about forty-five laps around my bed, I throw my back onto the mattress, grab a pillow, and scream into cotton for about two minutes straight.

  By the time my voice is hoarse and my lungs are tired, I toss the pillow off my face, and it’s then that I spot my notebook on my nightstand.