The Daddy Dilemma: A Brother's Best Friend Enemies To Lovers Romance (Hot Daddy Book 3)

by Tracy Lorraine

  “You had fluff on your arm. We don’t want it spoiling the wedding photos, do we?” she says icily, but I can see I’ve actually rattled her cage.

  Registers are signed, and then it’s time for the photos. Great. I hate having my photo taken and here comes Reese again.

  “You’re welcome, by the way,” she says.

  “Sorry?”

  “For your makeover. You actually look like a human being. But I know you’ll be too proud to thank me, so I’ll just pretend you did. So again, you’re welcome.”

  I decide to call her bluff.

  “Actually, yes. Where are my manners? Thank you, Reese, for getting Jack to make me over. I’ve been a little low for a long while now and hadn’t realised the rut I was in. Now I feel I can start to get my life back on track, plus looks like I’m going to get laid tonight. And it’s all thanks to you. I’m sorry I can’t repay the favour, only personality transplants aren’t available yet, but I’ll start a regular savings account, just in case.”

  She stomps off in a huff and then I laugh because she has to come back for some more photos.

  The wedding photos take ninety minutes. I’m bored out of my brain. Now it’s time to go to the hotel and enjoy the sit-down meal and then there’s still the evening reception. I check my watch. It’s four thirty. At what time might I escape this torture? I vow to never get married, or if I do, it’s a quick register office thing. No, I’ll go back to my original thought not to bother. I like my solo life. Constantly having someone telling me what to do, or picking fluff off me. No thanks. Actually, tonight I’m going mean boy, to put all interested females off. Sod having a shag, I’m going to get drunk and sleep by myself like usual. These women here never wanted to know me before, when I looked a bit on the scruffy side, did they? I realise that’s not a fair argument as I was a bit of a smelly boy, but still, I’m totally being judged on my appearance right now. I’m being objectified.

  Finally, the evening reception gets under way, and tons more people have arrived, which means in another hour or so I can escape to my room. I’ve had quite a bit to drink now because women keep buying me a pint.

  It’s ridiculous. The meaner I am, the more they won’t go away.

  “Hi there.” A blonde sidles over to me, her green eyes twinkling. “I’m Amber, Rhian’s cousin. It’s nice to meet you…”

  “Don.” I’ve got to the stage where I can’t be bothered to say my whole name anymore.

  I shake her hand, but she doesn’t let go, just kind of lets my hand slide out of hers. “So would you like to dance, Don?”

  “No, thank you.”

  Amber looks a little put out that I’m rejecting her. Doesn’t stop her from moving closer to me. “Gosh, it’s warm in here isn’t it?” She adjusts her top so more of her boobs are showing. Earlier in the night this behaviour made me quite excited, but now it’s on repeat, I’m getting bored. “I’m a little thirsty…”

  “Well the bar’s over there.” I point to where I’ve sent at least eight women tonight so far. They still don’t get the hint though. This is why I’m a bit pissed.

  “Oh yeah, let me buy you a drink. Pint of beer, right?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “No, I insist.”

  They all insist.

  While I’m waiting for Amber to return, my eyes alight on Reese. I see her shake off a guy’s hands from her arse. Looks like he won’t take no for an answer. I might not like the woman but she’s my best mate’s sister and blokes shouldn’t behave like that anyway. Forgetting all about Amber, I head over to where they are standing.

  “Problem?”

  “Yeah, you’re here,” the guy says. “We’re busy, so why don’t you go back to where you came from?”

  I stand up straighter and flex my fists. “Well, because for one thing the woman you’re hitting on is the groom’s sister, so if you don’t back off you’re going to end up in deep shit from most of the people in this room, and mainly because that’s my wife you’re trying to get off with.”

  Reese’s eyes go wide and then she plays along. “I tried to tell him, honey, but he wouldn’t let me get a word in edgeways.”

  “Take a fucking hike before I knock your teeth down your throat,” I tell the guy.

  I’m making this shit up as I go along and I don’t even care. Never hit a bloke in my life. If he comes at me though it’s true that most of the people here would come to my aid. But I’m pissed from all this beer and finding it hard to give a toss.

  The guy holds his hands up. “Okay, mate. Backing off. Sorry. Didn’t see a ring and she didn’t mention a husband.” He basically runs away and I start laughing.

  Those icy eyes are looking at me, narrowed. “What’s going on with you? You’re different.”

  “You know nothing about me, Reese, so how would you know I’m different? The most communication there’s been between me and you over the years has been your judgy looks in my direction, and your occasional twatty comments, so how about you just thank me for getting rid of that dickhead instead of starting twenty questions when you’ve never given a shit before.”

  She’s silent for a few moments and then she surprises me. “I’m sorry, Brandon. You’re right. Thanks for getting rid of him for me. He didn’t understand I wasn’t interested.”

  “What? Thought he could thaw the Ice Queen? As if.”

  Oh dear. I see I’ve fucked up as her jaw sets taut. “You don’t know me either, so how about you just take your own assumptions and stick them up your arse.”

  She looks so haughty. Haughty and hot. Fuck, I really have had a lot to drink. “Listen, if I promise not to insult you and you promise not to insult me, how about we stick together for the rest of the night, so we don’t get hit on by idiots? Unless of course there are any you’re interested in?”

  “No. I just want to enjoy my brother’s wedding. As much as you can enjoy any wedding.”

  “Right? Bloody tedious things. Put me off marriage for life.”

  “Huh, you want to do my job, now that would put you off marriage for life.”

  “Let me go get us both a drink, and let’s drink to the happiness of your brother while vowing to never ever be so stupid as to get married ourselves.”

  We drink to that and to a lot of other things.

  “Fuck, I can hardly stand up,” I slur. “Whattimesit? Can I be released and go find my hotel room now?”

  Reese is swaying around and singing. I watch her hips move and imagine them moving against me. She looks pretty in her bridesmaids dress and with the alcohol loosening her up she seems almost… human.

  “It’s time for bed,” Reese sings. “Let’s go and say goodbye to Wedding Loser Central.” She looks at her watch and tries to stand still to see the time. “I think it’s ten to twelve.” She says just before the DJ announces it is indeed ten to midnight and almost Christmas Day.

  “I want to open my presents,” she says excitedly. “They’re in my room. Did you bring yours?”

  “No. Why would I want to drag what I know is socks and crap aftershave with me? I’ll open them when I get home.”

  “Come to my room please and sit with me while I open my presents?” She grabs my arm and begs. “Only Rhian and Jack have hijacked Christmas, They’ve made it all about them instead of about presents.”

  “Another reason to not get married. It ruins Christmas!”

  “Yes!”

  We wander out of the room and eventually find our way to the right hotel room after getting out of the lift on the wrong floor twice. After several attempts to get the key card to flash green, I follow Reese into her room.

  She falls onto her bed where there are a pile of presents, and she pats the space at the side of her.

  “Sit. Sit.”

  I basically faceplant onto the bed and Reese starts giggling. “Be serious,” she says while laughing. “It’s Christmas and I want to open my presents.”

  I sit up and watch as Reese opens her gifts. Boring undies tha
t she pulls a face at. Perfume she doesn’t like. Books she says she doesn’t have time to read. Jewellery she doesn’t like.

  “I don’t think anyone knows me at all,” she says sadly.

  I lift up her chin. “Hey. It’s just Christmas. You buy what you think a person will like and they never like it at all. It’s as stupid as weddings. So just tell me what you actually want for Christmas and I’ll buy it or give it to you. It’s much easier if you tell people. Okay, it’s not a surprise then but at least you’re not disappointed. Like I want a bottle of whisky, so you can just buy me one sometime.”

  “Okay, done. Now what do I want for Christmas. Ooh I know,” she says, her eyebrow rising. “I want your cock inside me. That’s what I want for Christmas.”

  Did I say her telling me what she wanted wouldn’t be a surprise?

  “But we don’t like each other.”

  “So, let’s have some downright dirty hate sex,” she suggests her eyebrows wiggling suggestively.

  It’s still one hell of a surprise. But do you know what? I’m totally up for getting up.

  “Take your dress off,” I order. I’m going to rock Reese’s world… as soon as I can manage to get my own trousers off.

  4

  Reese

  My head’s spinning too much to really think about what I’ve just asked of Brandon. We’ve spent the whole day enduring the pleasantries of a wedding when we should have been celebrating the holidays. I’ve had to turn away one too many guys who thought it was their right to hit on the single bridesmaid and I’m so fucking pissed I can barely see straight. So logically, what I need right now is some hot and dirty sex with a guy I hardly know and barely even like.

  He doesn’t even bat an eyelid when I tell him I want his cock inside me for Christmas. This Brandon is different to the yeti-like quiet guy I remember Jack introducing me to a few years ago. I make a mental note to ask my brother if he’s sure this man staring at me like he’s about to devour me is actually the same man.

  “Take your dress off,” he demands and I scramble to get off the bed. My foot gets caught in my ridiculously long and lacy dress and I go flying towards the floor.

  “Ow,” I cry, lifting myself up but I’m stopped when a warm pair of hands land on my shoulders. His lips press against the sensitive skin beneath my ear and my entire body shudders. Goosebumps prick my skin as his fingers find the top of my zip and he begins pulling it down.

  The fabric is pushed from my shoulders, exposing my tan strapless bra. He flicks the clasp and it immediately falls away from my body. My breasts are heavy with need.

  “Brandon,” I moan, needing more than this.

  “Lie back.”

  I do as I’m told, my back pressing against the rough carpet as he pulls his tie from his neck and makes quick work of removing his shirt, shoes, socks, and trousers, leaving him standing above me in just his black boxer briefs.

  My eyes drop to his chest and abs, showing me that I was right when I first saw him this morning. He was hiding something impressive under that suit. Not bad for a yeti.

  Pushing my thighs wide, he drops to his knees. His hands run up my legs, pushing up the mass of fabric as he does so, while his mouth drops to my nipple. He sucks and nips, driving me crazy. My core floods, soaking my lace thong and making me desperate for what he promised me.

  “Fuck,” he grunts when his fingers find the wet fabric and he wastes no time in pushing it to the side so he can find my clit.

  “Oooooh, yes,” I cry, thrusting my hips to try to get more.

  Today’s been tedious as fuck and I need this release as much as I need my next breath.

  His fingers drop lower, finding my entrance and he plunges them inside me as deep as they’ll go. My pussy clamps down trying to suck him deeper.

  “Greedy bitch.” I shiver when his breath coats my neck as he trails kisses up towards my ear. “You need my cock, don’t you?”

  “Yes, yes,” I chant.

  When his fingers slip from me, I almost cry out in frustration, but when I look down and I find him pulling his cock out, the words die on my lips. Instead, I bite down on my bottom one and watch as he pumps his length a couple of times.

  “Condom?” he asks, his eyes wide in panic.

  “My bag, pass my bag.”

  The second he hands it over, I hurriedly turn it upside down and shake until the contents are in a pile on the floor next to me. Plucking a square packet from the pile, I thrust it towards him.

  In seconds he’s rolled it down his length and he’s nudging at my entrance.

  “Just fuck me,” I demand when he spends way too long teasing me. I don’t need teasing, I need action and an earth-shattering release; if he’s capable of it.

  “Of course I’m fucking capable.”

  My lips snap shut, not realising I voiced that concern out loud.

  “Need proof?”

  I open my mouth to reply, but he chooses that moment to thrust forward, filling me almost to the point of pain.

  “Fuck.” My arms fly above my head until I find the wall. I place my palms flat against the smooth surface and brace myself for what I think is to come.

  And I’m not disappointed.

  Brandon ploughs into me over and over again. My legs tremble, my breasts bounce, and my cries and demands for more get louder and louder.

  Needing more, he slips his hands under my arse and lifts me just so. The angle is everything I need myself and after two more hard thrusts, I cry out his name as I fall over the edge.

  “Brandon, fuck.” My pussy clenches around him as his own moans of pleasure fall from his lips.

  “Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuuck.” His body stills above me as his cock twitches violently inside me.

  Why did I ever think he was pathetic and useless?

  “Because you’re a judgemental, stuck-up bitch. But I won’t hold it against you because you’re a stellar lay.”

  “Shit, I didn’t mean—” Fucking alcohol. I can’t tell what I’m thinking and what I’m speaking out loud. Oh well, who cares, I’m having an amazing time.

  “S’all good. I got what I needed.” The wink that follows that douchebag sentence pisses me off as much as it turns me on. His softening cock slips from me and he stands, pulling the condom off and dropping it into the bin.

  “That’s all you need?” I goad him. “Maybe you weren’t the man I needed for the job.”

  “Oh I’m man enough. Get up.”

  Pushing to my feet, I allow my dress to drop to the floor before shoving my knickers down my legs. With my shoes still on, I stand just an inch or two shorter than Brandon. My eyes hold his, the alcohol running through my veins makes focusing hard, but my determination to get what I need overpowers it.

  “Show me what you got, big man.”

  His hands land on my waist and I’m thrown onto the bed like nothing more than a rag doll. He drags me onto my hands and knees and takes me from behind, pushing inside me hard and holding onto my breasts, squeezing. His thrusts have my head banging occasionally against the headboard but I don’t even care.

  I just want him to keep doing what he’s doing because it’s not just Christmas that’s coming.

  When I wake and roll over the next morning, I don’t know what hurts more, my head or my aching muscles.

  What the fuck happened last night?

  The last thing I remember was drinking with Bran—fuck, Brandon.

  Sitting up so fast, my stomach churns and my head spins, but when I look to the space beside me, it’s empty.

  “Shit.” Dropping my pounding head into my hands I try to recall the events of the night before. Little flashbacks start hitting me. Sex on the floor, on the bed, against the wall on the way to the bathroom, in the shower. Fuck, no wonder my muscles hurt.

  My need for the bathroom eventually gets the better of me and I swing my legs from the bed.

  “Ew, what the—” Looking down at the floor, I find a used condom stuck to the bottom of my foot. “Ew, ew.�
�� I shake it until it flies off. Vowing to come straight back and tidy this place up, I make my way to the bathroom. I want to scrub my foot off.

  I do my thing and quickly discover how sore I am down there after the events of last night, before standing at the basin and risking a look in the mirror.

  My eyes widen and the limited content of my stomach threatens to make itself known when I get a look at myself. My hair looks like a bird’s nesting in it, my make-up’s smeared all over my face, and I’ve got fucking love bites all over my neck and chest. Who leaves fucking loves bites these days? We’re not twelve.

  Reaching for my cleanser, I pump a generous amount into my hand and set about fixing my face.

  By the time I emerge from the bathroom, having performed my exact morning routine even with a hangover, I look a little more respectable. Within five minutes the room doesn’t look like a tornado blew through it last night. I’m expected to attend a family Christmas breakfast in the restaurant downstairs in twenty minutes, so I try to ignore the pounding pain in my head, and the memories that keep trying to relive themselves.

  I blow dry my hair, reapply my make-up that I hope goes some way to covering the giant circles under my eyes and the glowing red marks I can’t cover with my blouse, and swallow two paracetamols, although I might just go for some more alcohol and hair of the dog.

  Slipping my feet into my shoes, I suck in a deep breath, preparing to look into his knowing eyes.

  It appears everyone’s already seated when I walk into the restaurant and I curse myself for not being on time.

  I’m never late. I’m always on top of things and the first to turn up, always. This is his fault.

  My eyes scan the room so that I can ensure I don’t accidentally sit next to him, but I don’t find him there at all.

  “Reese, over here,” Rhian calls, distracting me. I walk towards her, glancing at the two empty chairs and praying one isn’t waiting for Brandon.

  “Morning, ‘wife’.”

  “Eeeek,” she squeals. “I’m a wife and he’s my husband.” Jack turns and nuzzles her neck. His eyes find mine and I just about manage not to puke in my mouth at the sparkle in them. I do not want to think about the fact that I wasn’t the only one testing out the many surfaces the hotel rooms had to offer.