What’s Tumblr?
I CRACK MY NECK AS I wind through Andie and Roman’s neighborhood. Sleeping like a fucking statue last night sucked, but at least it was with Reagan, which made it so worth it. Even if I do have stiff joints today. When I woke with goddamned morning wood that was doing its best to stab her, I had to bolt before I did something stupid like poke her between her pretty pink lips.
My dick twitches at the thought and I groan. With a huff, I steal another French fry from the sack in the passenger seat. Despite that dumbass wannabe drug dealer looking for me, I still picked up dinner from our favorite place. I just didn’t check in this time to get my ten percent discount.
When I pull into Roman and Andie’s driveway, I stare at the big house in the dark for a long moment. My sister deserves a nice life. A man—albeit a motherfucker—who is good to her. The expensive house. The baby. I’m proud of her. Sadly, it’s a reminder that I can’t even compete when it comes to my own life. What I wouldn’t give to be able to offer this entire happily-ever-after package to some woman one day.
Not just any woman.
Reagan.
My chest aches. She’s on the fast track to having this life with Chase. I don’t necessarily hate the guy…I just don’t like him. She can do better. Better than him. Better than me.
Pushing away my brooding thoughts, I snag our Blizzards and burgers. I trot up the steps and the door flies open as I reach the top.
“You came and, oh my God”—she groans as she snags a sack from me—“I’m starving.”
“So happy to see you, too, Rey,” I tease as I follow her inside. “Where’s my niece?”
“Sleeping,” she says quietly. “No wonder they needed a date night. That little girl is so fussy. I was ready to rip my hair out.” Her hand dives into the bag and she retrieves a fry. “You’re here early.”
“I figured you might be hungry,” I say with a shrug as I help her pull the food from the bags.
She lets out a moan of happiness as she takes a huge bite of her burger. I can’t help but grin at her. The girl loves her Dairy Queen. Once she swallows, she smiles at me. “Thank you. I didn’t eat anything all day.”
I frown. “I thought you had lunch with Chase today.”
Her cheeks turn pink and she nibbles at a French fry. “He cancelled.”
“So you didn’t eat?” Irritation flickers through me. So maybe I do hate the guy. “Why didn’t you call me? I’d have brought you something.”
She waves me off as she devours another bite. “It was fine. I survived.”
My broody mood returns and we eat in silence. It isn’t until we’ve finished and cleaned up that she hugs me suddenly. Hugs for us come easy. Just another simple part of our friendship.
But this time I don’t hug her briefly.
This time, I embrace her tightly and inhale her delicious smelling hair.
When she starts to pull away, I don’t let her go. I can’t let her go.
Her chin lifts so she can meet my gaze. Heated brown eyes seem to dance with different emotions as that brain of hers works overtime. I think I see need in them. Maybe guilt. Also happiness.
At least I’m not the only one who feels conflicted.
“You still up for helping me till the garden on Saturday?” she questions, her voice hoarse as she desperately tries to steer the conversation elsewhere. Neither of us makes any move to separate from our embrace. “Maybe we can dig the holes, too, if time allows.”
“Can we make one of them big enough to bury Chase?” I tease.
She laughs. “Very funny. I’m planting cucumbers, among other things. Mom says you can’t plant anything this time of year, but I’m going to do it anyway because I’m dying to do something with that part of the yard. Chase promised to help but…” Her smile fades. Yep, I most definitely hate that motherfucker.
“Chase promises a lot of things and never delivers.”
Her throat bobs as she swallows down her emotion. “Anyway, he’s decided to play golf with my brothers instead.”
A stabbing sensation makes my chest ache. Another reminder that I’m not “the one” for her. Chase is Mr. Country Club and he’s friends with her brothers. I don’t even know what the fuck a country club really is—aside from old fuckers golfing—and her brothers sure as hell don’t like me, especially Roman.
Her bottom lip wobbles slightly. I can tell her feelings are hurt but brave little Reagan keeps it under a lid, like always. I’m about to lean forward and kiss her sweet mouth when something catches my eye behind her.
A golf bag leaned against the wall.
I pull away from her and saunter over to the bag. “Golf, huh?”
“Yep,” she says sighing as I pull one of the clubs out.
“You think this one is important?” I ask as I run my fingers along the end. It’s the only one that looks like the ones Andie and I would use whenever we’d go play miniature golf high as fucking kites as teenagers. “Looks important.”
Reagan places her hands on her hips. “They all look the same to me.” Her lip is slightly curled up as if she’s annoyed just looking at the damn thing.
I reach out with the club and use the end to lift the hem of her shirt in a playful way. Shooting her a wicked grin, I say, “You think he’ll miss this one?”
She swats away the club but she’s grinning. I continue to poke and tease at her with the end of it.
“Should we steal it and see?” I challenge.
A squeak escapes her when I not-so-innocently run the end of the club between her thighs. She swats it away again but her breathing is heavier. “Roman would kill you.”
“Roman tries to kill me every day. What else is new?” I smirk at her. “Here. Take it. I’m going to take the big one.”
“He’s going to flip out,” she whispers and takes the club. “We can’t take it. That is like a fourteen hundred dollar set of clubs!”
“We might need them to help us in the garden,” I tell her. “We’re borrowing them.”
“Fine,” she concedes. “But when he comes for blood, I’m blaming you.”
Once we both have a club in our hands, I look around. “What else do we need for the garden?”
“We need a hand shovel.” Her brown eyes gleam with mischief. “Hmm. I know just the thing.” She starts rummaging around in the kitchen cabinet until she retrieves a mug that has ants painted all over it. “This is his favorite mug. Andie got it for him. Like I told him when I was a kid, ants belong outside, not in the house.”
I snort and take the mug from her. “You’re a naughty girl. I like you.”
She bites on her lip thoughtfully. “Oh! I know what else we need.” Reagan practically skips along through the house. Being a bad girl looks good on her. I follow her into Roman’s home office and she points to some ugly metal piece of art hanging on the wall with her golf club. “That. My garden needs a lawn ornament.”
We spend the rest of the evening hiding lots of shit Roman probably won’t notice in my trunk. It’s funny as hell because he’ll be pissed when he finds out.
“We’re home,” my sister calls out when they come through the front door.
Reagan’s face blazes red and she looks seconds away from blurting out her confession. I sling an arm over her shoulders and whisper against her ear, “Relax.”
Her body loses some of its tension. “Did you guys have fun?”
Roman saunters in behind Andie, grinning like he just got his dick sucked. When his eyes find mine, it quickly morphs into a glare. Fuck, this dude’s an asshole.
“It was great. Food was phenomenal. The orgasm in the car outside the restaurant was even better,” she tells us, her blue eyes twinkling with delight. “Dessert was spectacular.”
Roman grunts his agreement.
“Ew. TMI,” Reagan says with a laugh. “Glad you guys had fun but I’m beat. Linc, you ready?”
Before I can answer, Roman’s eyes narrow at the way I have my arm around his sister. Meeting my gaze, he asks her, “How’s Chase?”
Reagan stiffens again and steps away from me. “He’s fine. Just busy with the upcoming Masters tournament at the club.”
“People with jobs and hobbies are busy,” he agrees with a knowing smirk. “Remind me again, Linc. What do you do for a living? What are your hobbies, besides trying to get arrested?”
“Roman!” Andie bellows. “Stop.”
I grit my teeth and shoot him a fuck you glare. He knows how to throw digs at me every time we speak. I’m about to tell him I’m doing his sister for a living—just to terrorize the shit out of him—when Molly starts crying upstairs. Andie points toward the stairs and gives him a stare that lets him know he’s in trouble. Before he goes, though, he snags her in his arms and kisses her hard. All anger melts away as they all but try to make another baby right here in the living room.
Another pang shoots through me.
That is how I’d kiss Reagan every day if things were different.
She wouldn’t have to settle for her Chasebot kisses.
I’d kiss her hard and passionately because that’s what she deserves. She deserves to be made to feel as if she’s the only woman on the planet. The best woman on the planet.
Fuck if I don’t hate Roman, but he gives my sister exactly that.
And goddamn do I want to give his sister exactly that.
“I want that.”
I frown in confusion. “The Chop Whiz?”
“No,” she says with a laugh, turning away from the As Seen on TV commercial and looking over at me. “That. What Roman and Andie have.”
“Pornographic sex 24/7?”
Her lips tug into a shy smile. “Apparently, they have the best sex ever. The stuff Andie tells me sometimes can’t be real. I mean, anal beads? She has to be messing with me.”
“They’re real,” I assure her.
“Whatever.”
This time, it’s me who’s chuckling. “Are you serious right now?”
Her cheeks and throat burn bright red. “Anal beads are really a thing? I thought it was a joke.”
“Not a joke. There are a whole lot more sexual things out there than just missionary sex with a robot,” I tell her, an evil grin tugging at my lips. “What exactly do you look at when you go on Tumblr?”
“What’s Tumblr?”
“Oh, Rey,” I growl. “I don’t know if you’re ready for the dark side.”
She crosses her arms over her chest and challenges me by lifting a sculpted brow. “Maybe I just need someone to show me the way.”
Smirking, I pull out my phone and open the app. My tastes range from normal sex to St. Andrew’s crosses and choking and everything in between. I pull it up and search for anal beads.
“See? Real.”
She screeches, her hand covering her mouth, as she scrambles closer to me on the sofa. Having her warm body this close has me wanting to do so many dirty things to her. Instead, I scroll through the erotic pictures and gifs of people using anal beads.
“It looks painful,” she admits, her palm resting on my chest as she leans in to get a closer look. “What if they get stuck?”
I laugh. “They don’t get stuck. They use lots of lube.”
“Have you ever used them?” Her curious eyes dart to mine as she questions me. Being this close to her face is dangerous. Fuck, I want to kiss her again.
“I’ve never been a receiver, if that’s what you’re asking,” I divulge. “But I have used them on women before.”
Her mouth parts open as she whispers. “Oh. Women…as in multiple?”
“Not all at once. Over time,” I say with a laugh. “The beads are fun, but this is better.” I find a home video of a couple having anal sex. Reagan lets out a gasp of shock.
“That looks extremely painful,” she squeaks.
“Not as painful as this,” I tell her and search for some BDSM videos. These videos are darker. The women are tied up and their tits are red and bruised from being hit.
“How can they like pain?” she demands, horror seeping into her voice.
“Sometimes pleasure is best when it’s preceded by pain.”
Her eyes narrow as she looks at me again. Skepticism dances in her eyes. “I have trouble believing that.”
And I would love to prove her wrong.
Hell, maybe looking at porn wasn’t the best idea. My dick is stone solid and her mouth is just too damn tempting.
“I wonder if I can talk Chase into trying that,” she says absently. Her finger points to a woman with her wrists bound together and tied to the headboard while the man eats her out like there’s no tomorrow. What motherfucker wouldn’t be into “trying that” with Reagan fucking Holloway? I know I sure as hell would be first in line.
“If he’s too busy, I could always fill in,” I tease in a playful way, so she knows I’m kidding. But I’m not kidding. I could suck on her clit for hours.
“Don’t be gross,” she says with a laugh. “This is good research, though. Show me more.”
We end up spending at least an hour scrolling through Tumblr. I load the app on her phone for her and help her add some of the people to follow so she can “research” it more later. She’s practically in my lap as she holds her own phone while searching stuff. I’ve lost interest in the porn I’m looking at to spy on what’s on her screen.
A guy choking a woman.
A woman riding a guy as he gropes her tits.
A woman taking two cocks at once.
She simply scrolls, fascinated by all the different stuff, but stops on one particular couple. The guy is broad shoulder and tattooed with dark hair. Like me. The woman has brown hair and sexy tits. Like her. They’re fucking, but it’s intense. Like it would be if it were us. He has her chin in a brutal grip so he can stare at her as he drives into her. It’s fucking hot.
“He’s so…” she trails off and swallows.
“Obsessed with her?” I finish, my voice husky. “Madly in love with her?”
Double meaning hangs thick in the air. She pulls out of her trance and scrambles off the couch onto her feet. “It’s late. I should get to bed.” She won’t meet my eyes, and I hate that. My dick aches in my pants for release. What I wouldn’t give to sink my cock into her tight heat.
“Goodnight, Linc.”
She bolts and soon her bedroom door closes. I stare up at the ceiling for a moment to settle my cock before rising from the couch to go to bed. On autopilot, I lock up and turn off the television and lights. I’m just walking into the hallway when I hear it.
Buzzzzz.
Buzzzzz.
Buzzzzz.
Fucking hell. I walk toward the sound and lean my forehead against her door. If I were a braver man, I’d storm in there and get her off with my teeth and tongue so she wouldn’t have to use her vibrator. If we didn’t have a fucking Dave Franco twin as a wall standing in our way, I’d claim her as mine.
I know I’m not like him. Successful. Well-loved by everyone who meets him.
I don’t have consistent money coming in. But I’m what you call an opportunist. I get by. I have means.
And maybe I don’t have a house, but hanging with Reagan at hers is pretty cool.
I’d make up for all of my shortcomings in orgasms.
So many orgasms.
It would be a great fucking trade.
Buzzzz.
Buzzzz.
Buzzzz.
A moan comes from the other side of the door and my dick strains against my jeans. With no regard for the consequences, I unfasten my pants and push them, along with my boxers, down my thighs until my heavy erection bobs free. The moment I take it in my grip, I hiss. Her moans get louder and more ragged with each passing moment. With tight, quick tugs of my fist, I jerk off.
I imagine her tits. Wonder what her nipples look like. Imagine biting them until she squeals. I try to envision what her flesh would look like once I’ve properly worshiped her breasts. Would they turn purple and blue from the bruises I would undoubtedly give her?
She comes with a loud shriek. It’s enough to have me groaning loudly—too loudly. My cum shoots across her door. I fucking wish it were her tits instead. With a grumble, I quickly yank my pants back into place but don’t fasten the top button. Ripping off my T-shirt, I use it to clean up my mess. I’ve just fisted up the shirt to take to the laundry room when her bedroom door flies open.
Her oversized T-shirt doesn’t even reach the middle of her thighs. If she were to lift her arms in the air, I could almost guarantee she’d flash me her panties. Or maybe just her pussy if she’s not wearing any.
“Linc,” she murmurs, her eyes lazily skimming down my chest. “Never mind.”
If she knows I just whacked off out here in the hallway, she’s not letting on, aside from the bright red tone of her flesh.
“’Night, Rey,” I tell her, my voice husky.
“’Night.”
She starts to close her door, but I stop her with my words. “You look so fucking beautiful right now.” And she does. Everything about her is perfect, from her messy dark hair to her pouty pink lips to her bright orange-painted toenails.
Tears well in her eyes and she stares at me. Heartbroken. As if I’ve just said the worst thing to her. A second later, she slams the door shut.
I stalk over to it and lean my forehead against it once more. “I can’t take it back,” I say softly through the door. “I know it’s out of line but I had to tell you. Because you are beautiful, Rey. Friends are allowed to say that.”
When she doesn’t respond and all I can hear is her sniffling, I let out a sigh and stalk to my bathroom where I intend on taking a cold shower to snuff out some of the raging fires blazing within me.
Moving in with her was a very bad idea.
I’m going to ruin our friendship.
One fucking compliment at a time.
The destruction is imminent, yet I still can’t find it in me to stop.
I want her, no matter the consequences.
And fuck if I don’t hate myself for being so selfish.