Erica was right. I must have a death wish. If Damian knew the thoughts I'd had about his baby sister in the last twenty minutes, he would rip my dick off and shove it down my throat. If he knew how many times I'd jacked off to her image over the last few years, he'd kill me.
But my worst crime to date? Keeping our little cyber relationship, a secret. For the last two years, we'd been texting and emailing about things as benign as our favorite books to things as inappropriate as her first kiss.
I couldn't help it. Erica was stunning. With the face of an angel, hellfire-red hair that fell in gentle waves to her ass, butter-soft skin and the lithe body of a ballet dancer, she was every man's wet dream. In fact, she'd been center stage in most of mine since Lake Champlain.
But it wasn't just the way she looked that had me captivated. Hell, if that were the case I would have fucked her out of my system, Damian be damned.
No. My attraction to Erica stemmed from so much more. The girl relied on her intelligence and wit, in spite of her looks. Even though she went to a swanky private school and grew up in a house bigger than my apartment complex, she was down-to-earth and genuinely interested in the well-being of others. Last year after I mentioned that my brother's girlfriend didn't have a dress for prom, Erica had shipped several designer dresses so that Tiffany had something nice to wear.
Erica was the complete package. The kind of girl you brought home to meet your mom, if you were into that sort of thing.
And she was finally eighteen and legal. Praise the Lord! Too bad she was still off limits.
I glanced over my shoulder as we squeezed through the crowd. Her blue eyes widened with alarm as two of our linemen started yelling good-natured insults back and forth. The party was growing rowdier by the minute. It was only a matter of time before all of the testosterone and alcohol spontaneously combusted.
"Do you want to go somewhere quieter?" I asked her after we had emptied and filled our cups for the third time. She was flushed, and I could tell the beer was starting to take effect.
"Sure," she said with a grateful grin.
I didn't bother to tell Damian since he was preoccupied with Amelia, who was dry-humping him on a couch. We pushed our way up the stairs, past several couples pawing each other and through a group of guys who congratulated me on our win.
I found an unoccupied bedroom on the third floor, which was a score since most were already in use by the frat house elite. The sounds coming from the room next door left little to the imagination.
"Wow, they're going at it," Erica murmured. Her high cheekbones flushed brighter with each muffled moan and groan.
"Well, it is a party. We're lucky we found a spare room this late in the evening." I turned on my iPhone and picked my favorite playlist, hoping to drown out the distraction. I patted the spot next to me on the bed. She looked uncertain, but came over and sat down.
"Damian told me that you might be a first-round draft pick."
"That's the plan."
"Where do you want to go?"
"I just want to play ball. I don't care what team. What about you? Have you made a decision about New York?"
"Not exactly," she replied.
"What's holding you back?" I asked. She sipped her beer and fidgeted with the silky strap of fabric wrapped around her waist.
"A lot of things."
"Like what?" I listened to her uneven breathing and watched her hand shake as she brought the cup to her mouth. "Why are you so nervous?"
"I'm not."
"Don't lie, Pip."
"Don't call me that," she said with a grimace.
I nudged her shoulder. "Why not?"
"Because I'm not a kid anymore." She clenched her cup so tight I thought she might crack the plastic.
"Relax. Why are you so wired?"
She watched me over the rim of her cup. "I guess I'm in awe of being alone with the MVP of the Stanford football team."
"I hope you don't think I brought you up here because I expect something." The thought had my cock stirring to life.
"Why did you bring me up here?"
Good fucking question.
"You looked overwhelmed downstairs. I thought you could use a breather from the crowd."
"Oh." The disappointment on her face was unmistakable. With leg bouncing, she downed the rest of her beer, eyes flashing with indecision. "What if I wanted something to happen?"
I reached over and turned my phone down, because I had to be sure I'd heard her right. "Wait. What are you saying?"
"I want you to have sex with me."
If her words were a lightning bolt, then my cock was a steel rod. I almost spewed my last sip of beer but managed to choke it down. After launching off the bed, I went straight to the window and pushed it open. Not even the cool breeze carrying the saline scent of San Francisco Bay could calm me. I dragged in several deep breaths, before turning around to face her.
"Erica, I'm not going to fuck you. You're my best friend's baby sister. I don't even see you that way," I lied.
"Based on that"—she pointed to the bulge in my pants—"I'd beg to differ."
I sighed and sat down on the window sill. "I am only a man. And you're beautiful."
"Then why not?"
"Your brother would kill me."
"He'll get over it."
"Are you drunk? Why do you suddenly want this?"
"No, I'm not drunk. And it's not sudden. I've always wanted you to be my first," Erica replied.
Fuck me.
"You're still a virgin?"
"Yes," she whispered, a becoming blush brightening her cheeks.
I paced in front of her. "How can that be? I thought you had that boyfriend last year?"
"We never got past second base. It wasn't for lack of trying on Steve's part. But it never felt right. After a few months, he broke up with me. He said he didn't want to be with a frigid bitch."
"Well, he's an asshole," I said with clenched fists. I'd beat the little punk if I ever saw him again. Erica was the furthest thing from frigid I could imagine. She was like a sun that burned so bright and hot I sometimes worried I might get singed.
"Yeah, he was." She remained perfectly still on the bed, watching me tear up the carpet.
"Your first time should be special, with someone you care about. Not in some dingy bedroom with two other people fucking next door."
After placing her cup on the nightstand, she stood and walked towards me. Her chin quivered and it took all of my self-restraint not to pull her into my arms. "I've been thinking about stuff. About what I want out of life. Going to Columbia or modeling for Hot Shot might be great opportunities, but what if I want to give this a chance, instead?" she asked, gesturing between us.
"There is no 'us,' Erica," I said.
"How can you say that? We've been texting for the last two years. The distance and my age made it impossible, but now we can explore this. I can move to California and be closer to you."
I sank my head into my hands so I didn't have to look at her. Had I led her to believe that I was interested in more than a friendship?
"Ah babe, that's not going to happen," I muttered.
"Why not?"
"Because I don't even know where I'll be a year from now. I'm horrible at dating, and the last thing I need is the complication of a relationship. With anyone."
"I care about you, Dante."
There was no way out without hurting her. Or worse, giving in. "I care about you too, but that doesn't change anything."
She ignored me and stepped closer until she stood inches away. I could see the few freckles that bridged the tip of her nose and the vein pulsing in her neck. The scent of her honeysuckle lip-gloss wafted up from her trembling bottom lip. Before I could stop her, she tugged one silky strap down her arm.
"Erica," I said with a groan.
With eyes lowered, she followed suit with the other strap, until the soft fabric bunched at her waist. The mounds of her breasts heaved in a strapless, flesh-colored bra and it took all of my self-restraint to close my eyes. I summoned images of my bald coach screaming and my sweaty teammates in the locker room showers.
"Dante, open your eyes."
"You're killing me here, babe," I said, my voice scratchy and raw.
She drew closer, pressing the swell of her breasts against my chest. Taller than the average girl, she lined up perfectly, her pelvis shimmying against my growing dick. I forced my eyes open and grabbed her by her upper arms with the intention of pushing her away.
"I want you," she said as she ran her moist tongue along the shell of my ear. "Give me a chance to show you how good it can be between us."
I wanted nothing more than to be buried balls deep in her, but I couldn't take the chance that she'd regret it, especially since I couldn't give her what she wanted, long-term. And if Damian ever found out, I would lose the most loyal friend I'd ever had.
"I don't feel the same." My dick screamed in outrage.
She pulled back and looked up at me. "Bullshit. You're harder than a rock."
"My body may want you, but I don't."
"Why not?"
"Because a lifetime of friendship with Damian is worth more than a few hours, or days, or even weeks with you." The words were harsh, but did their job. Her cheeks flushed as red as her hair and she stumbled back a few steps, eyes brimming with tears.
"You're an asshole," she choked out. I wanted to gather her into my arms and kiss away the rejection on her face, but I shoved my hands into my pockets, instead. She spun on her heels and ran to the en-suite bathroom, slamming the door so hard the walls rattled.
Fuck me and my stupid principles.