Rebel Roommate: A Brother's Best Friend Romance Read online

  I pause as I wonder if he’s really coming to me. The piercing firmness of his hazel eyes as they hold mine confirms I’m his target.

  His hands land on my arms, spinning me around so my back is to his front. In a sea of bodies moving rhythmically, we’re stone-cold statues. My breath is staggered as I feel his chest against my back. His heart is beating wildly, and there’s a possessive grip in his palms on my skin.

  With the slowest precision, his fingers slide down to my wrists, leaving a chill in their wake. My body shifts at the sensation as my ass rubs against his groin. His groan is almost inaudible with the loud music.

  “For the record, I know more about you than you think,” he speaks into my ear, sending a shiver down to my core.

  He moves to my torso, and I gasp as he splays his hands against my stomach, pulling me closer to him.

  The inhale I take is so large that my entire chest rises. Lifting my body, I roll my head back into his shoulder.

  He moves his hips. My body follows him, swaying with his motion, as I get lost in the feeling of his large frame against my small one. I’m not dancing to the music; I’m dancing to Wes, a siren song in the forbidden sea.

  The heat that spreads through my body lands in my core as his arm wraps around my waist, closing the centimeter gap between us as we move as one.

  The beat slows, and he moves my wrist up to wrap it around his neck. Chills tingle across my body at the feeling of his hot breath close to my neck. When his lips brush against my shoulder, a pang hits my chest, which is full of anticipation and desire.

  My breath quickens as our motions slow with the music. His hips push into mine, and I feel his cock getting hard against my ass.

  I’ve never been so lost in someone’s touch. The music, the scene, the closeness … it’s all overwhelming my senses, and I don’t want it to stop.

  I roll my hips directly into him, and he growls against my neck. It’s like he’s my owner, someone who’s stepped up and taken control of my body with one touch.

  I’ve never been more emboldened to get what I want.

  Someone bumps into us, knocking us off-balance. I spin, and Wes catches me before I hit the ground. When our eyes meet, I see his widen in almost shock and then quickly morph into regret. Everything I felt a moment ago vanishes with that one look.

  Before I can speak, he exits the dance floor, heading straight for the door and never coming back.

  Chapter Seven

  We stay at the club for a few more hours, and I try my best to have a good time even though all I can think about is Wes. His hands on my body sent a bolt of light through me that I can’t seem to dim.

  It felt so right and yet wrong at the same time. I shouldn’t be surprised. I mean, what was I expecting, doing sexy yoga and sucking on a banana in front of him?

  I guess Nicole was more correct than I thought.

  We walk back to their apartment, and I’m surprised to see Chad in their living room. I toyed with the idea of crashing on their couch, but now that he’s here, I’m definitely going home. I don’t need to hear thumping to mess with my head even more tonight.

  “Want me to bring you back?” Chad offers even though I know he has zero desire to do so.

  “I’m good. I only had two drinks tonight, and that was a while ago, so I can drive home.” I give the girls quick hugs and a nod to my brother before heading to my place.

  When I pull into the lot across the street, I see Wes’s bedroom light is off. Maybe I lucked out, and he’s not back yet.

  I might act like I’m the pillar of self-control, but inside, I’m a quivering mess. I have no clue what Wes is thinking. I’d like to say he’d just forget about it, move on, but I’m not sure if I can forget the way he felt against me. Just the thought of it brings me back to that moment, and I instantly have the desire for his touch one more time.

  Being as quiet as I can, I slide the lock and stop as the door creaks open. His shoes are in the entryway, but it’s silent in the apartment, so he must be asleep.

  I let out a relieved sigh and search the dark space. It’s our boxing ring in the fight of wills between us. I don’t want to spar with him tonight, mostly because I don’t know if I’ll be able to control my words—or my wants.

  I use the bathroom, and when I come out, I see his closed door. Without thinking, I find myself outside his room with my hand on the handle, and then I let go of it quickly, coming to my senses, and rush back to where I belong.

  When I enter my room, I don’t bother to shut the door all the way as I glance up at the mirror, seeing my flushed face. Instantly, my mind goes back to the feeling of Wes’s arms wrapped around me. I wish I could forget because all I want is to feel that sensation, that heat and comfort he gave me.

  Knowing what I want is fifteen feet away isn’t helping either. Yet knowing it’s actually Wes that I’m fantasizing about makes it even worse.

  But I can’t stop.

  The more I think about it, the more intense the urge grows. I feel my panties moisten and know I have to do something about this, or I’ll do something really stupid and finish opening my brother’s best friend’s door, doing the one thing I can never take back.

  Sliding out of my romper, I pull back my sheets and grab my favorite toy from the drawer next to my bed. Just the sight of it makes my toes curl. It’s only when I’m truly horny that it makes me come so hard that I can’t see straight.

  And I don’t think I’ve ever been this horny by myself.

  I lick the tip of it, warming it with my mouth and making sure it will slide in with ease.

  Circling it around my clit, I play a little before pressing it to my opening. The sensation makes my back rise off the bed, and I lift my shirt up, gripping my breast. A moan escapes my lips as it slips all the way in.

  Holding it there for a quick breath, I pull it out before pushing it back in as slowly as I can until I find a rhythm.

  The urge to come builds almost too fast, and I slide it out, pausing to catch my breath before pushing it back in, closing my eyes tightly as I stifle another moan.

  When I open them again, movement in my mirror catches my attention. It’s reflective of the doorway on the other side, and it shows the silhouette of a man looking in. The moonlight coming in the living room window outlines Wes’s physique, the exact one I’m thinking about right now.

  My body gyrates against the toy, needing any movement that I suddenly denied to it.

  He moves slightly, and his profile comes into view. Wes’s mouth parts, and my core tightens.

  He must not know I can see him as he hides in the shadow. The thought makes me want to explode on contact. I’ve never masturbated in front of anyone, and knowing the man I’m fantasizing over is secretly watching me is almost too much to handle.

  I close my eyes, calming my breath—my desires—and start the rhythm one more time. I buck my hips as I pull it out and moan as I push it back in. Knowing he’s there, I don’t even bother to be quiet.

  I turn my eyes toward the mirror. When I see him lick his lips, it’s exactly what I need to push me over the edge. I come so hard that I convulse around the toy, closing my legs and turning to the side. Mumbling who knows what into my pillow.

  Once I get my bearings and can breathe again, I open my eyes and see he’s gone. I listen for the creak of his heavy footsteps back to his room but don’t hear anything.

  Chapter Eight

  Chad texts me, asking if I can bring his new batting gloves to his practice. Since I’ve never seen the fields, I agree, wanting to finally see the place my brother has called his home away from home for the last three years.

  I’m excited I’ll finally get to see him play for Cal. My dad was in between acting roles for the past few years, so my parents were able to drive here a few times just to see Chad play. They were over the moon when the team won the SoPac Regional Tournament. Between work and my coursework then, I didn’t have time to make the six-hour drive, and I never heard the end of it
.

  Fall ball has just started, so the guys keep talking about the interdivision team they need to study, so they’re ready to dominate in the spring. They’ve been practicing like crazy to get ready for the first game.

  I walk to the fields, hearing the crack of a bat every few seconds. Holding my hand over my eyes to block out the sun, I search for Chad across the field. When I spot him, I wave, letting him know I’m here. That’s when I notice Wes in the batter’s box.

  His back is to me as a coach throws him pitch after pitch. With each swing of the bat, his muscles flex in his shirt that falls down his forearms. His ass swivels in his tight white pants. I’m mesmerized by his swing and how he repositions his body, readying for the next ball to hit out of the park.

  He removes his helmet, and his eyes instantly meet mine as he catches me staring at him from my spot behind the fence. I don’t look away. Neither does he. He’s standing there with his helmet in his hand while the soft autumn breeze sweeps across the field, pushing his sweat-wet hair off his face.

  My chest rises as I inhale, remembering the penetrating expression of his when he watched me outside my bedroom. The headiness of the moment ripples through me, and I swallow down the memory.

  The coach calls his name, breaking our connection. “Wes, great job today. Don’t forget to stay balanced just a little more, and you’ll get that oppo hit right when we need it most,” I hear the coach say to Wes.

  “Stacey,” Chad yells as he runs toward the opening in the fence.

  I make my way to Chad, and when I check back on Wes, he’s already in the dugout, putting his stuff away and getting out his catcher’s gear.

  “Thanks for bringing these.” Chad takes the gloves from my hands, noticing me watching Wes, who’s putting his things in his bat bag with aggressive force. “Don’t mind him. He’s been pissed off all morning. Hey”—he lightly slaps my arms with the gloves—“you with me?”

  “Sorry. I was distracted. Um, why is Wes in a bad mood?”

  “I dunno. Said he slept like shit. Anyway, Nicole is making us dinner tonight, okay?”

  I try not to act like the news of Wes sleeping like shit has anything to do with me and give my brother my full attention. “Her place? Cool.”

  “No.” He leans an arm against the pole of the fence. “She wants to cook at our place.”

  “Why? Our kitchen is like an airplane galley.”

  He shrugs. “She just wants a change of scenery, I guess. Said our place is more entertaining.”

  “You mean, you’ll actually be home tonight?”

  He grins, and I know it comes from a very happy place in his heart. “Yeah, sorry. But Nicole wants to get to know you better as well. She said you had an awesome time last night, so make sure you’re home. She’s a great cook.”

  “I don’t know, Chad. She’s beautiful, fun, smart, and she can cook? You’re way out of your league,” I tease.

  “Ha-ha. I bring a lot to the table too,” he says with laugh. “You’re right though. Let’s hope she doesn’t realize it.”

  Chad’s attention suddenly becomes distracted by something behind me. I turn around and see a Bentley pull into the lot, parking far away from the field.

  “Dammit,” Chad curses. “What the hell is he doing here?”

  I watch as a man dressed in a suit exits the car and hits the alarm. His pointy brown shoes clank on the pavement as he walks toward the field.

  “Who is that?” I ask.

  “Wes’s dad.” Chad doesn’t sound happy in the least to see Mr. Knight here. I don’t remember much about the man from when I was growing up. He never came around. Rumor has it, his father was a serial philanderer, and Wes’s mother was a drunk. I asked my mom once, and she told me to mind my own business, so that’s what I’ve always done.

  “Seems nice he came to visit his son.” I try to look at the bright side.

  Chad spits on the ground. “Trust me, if he’s here, it’s not for a friendly visit.”

  Now worried, I ask, “Is everything okay?”

  “It’s fine. Listen, I have to get back to practice. Thanks for bringing these by.” He runs off when he hears his coach calling him. “See you tonight.”

  I watch as he runs back to the field. I’m about to turn toward the parking lot when the stern expression on Mr. Knight’s face causes me to stop. He’s headed toward Wes who is walking to him with all of his catcher’s gear on.

  Mr. Knight has a phone in his hand and holds it up as if he just got off the phone with someone. “What the hell is this I hear you turned down a job offer?”

  His voice is loud, and hard for anyone to ignore.

  “Take off that mask when I’m talking to you, son.”

  Wes does as his father says. His clenched jaw matches that of his father’s except his eyes are downcast to the side.

  “This is not the place,” Wes says quietly. At least, that’s what I think he says.

  “I sent you to this school to follow in my footsteps. Then you really would have amounted to something!”

  Coach rushes up to Mr. Knight and Wes, putting his hand on both their shoulders and speaks to them. I turn to walk to my car, realizing this is not a conversation I should be eavesdropping on.

  When I look over my shoulder Wes is staring at me.

  And he doesn’t look happy to see me here … at all.

  Wes has been in his room with the music blasting ever since he got home. When Chad and Nicole show up with groceries, they start prepping dinner, paying no attention to the noise coming down the hall. I turn on the television, and even though none of the guys are watching, I keep it on ESPN, figuring that’s the best thing to have for background noise over the thumping of bass from Wes’s room.

  “Is Prince Charming coming out of his cave anytime soon?” Chad asks as I walk out of my bedroom.

  I shake my head as I take a spot on the other side of the half-wall. “Don’t know. Probably not. Unless he’s eating, he’s been in his room a lot.”

  Chad grabs the milk from the fridge. “Really? The TV and beer are out here. He’s usually on the couch.”

  I frown at that comment. Since I’ve moved in, Wes has retreated to his room most nights unless the guys or Chad are here. “Maybe it’s because his dad came to visit?”

  “Probably part of it, but he was pissed before that. He’s been acting strange. No clue why. I haven’t seen him like this since right before we moved here. Let me go check on him.”

  Chad makes his way into Wes’s room.

  Nicole takes the opportunity to lean in. “So, anything new since you messed with him at the club last night?”

  I blink at her for a moment, wondering what she means by that until I remember she never saw Wes and me dancing. She’s referring to me pretending to be the scorned ex-girlfriend.

  I shake my head as I look down. “I think I misplayed my hand on this one. Using our sexual tension to prove a point isn’t going to fix the problem between us.”

  With remorse, she lays a hand on my shoulder. “Boo. Okay, fine, I guess I was wrong. Maybe another girls’ night out will be good for you. Let’s introduce you to someone really nice. I know Nathan has eyes for you.”

  I wave my hands up in a no, thanks motion. “I need to focus on my studies and not on hook-ups.”

  She mock pouts as she tosses a napkin at me like the guys do. “You’re no fun.”

  I catch it and throw it back at her. When it lands in the V-neck of her shirt, we both burst out laughing.

  “You two are having a good time?” Chad asks as he walks into the dining area on the other side of the half-wall. To my surprise, Wes is right behind him.

  “Yes, and I keep meaning to thank you, Stacey, for finally making these boys compost.” Nicole holds up the glass jar she just rinsed out and throws it in the blue container I also added to the kitchen.

  “See!” I nudge Chad’s arm. “I told you it was important.”

  “What the hell am I supposed to do with food scra
ps?” he scoffs.

  “I’ll take it to the community garden in town. They love the resources for the soil.”

  Chad shakes his head, chuckling to himself at his “granola sister,” as Nicole walks the salad bowl out to the table, and Wes enters the kitchen to get a cup. I press myself flush against the cabinet to give him room while he grabs a glass and fills it with water. I’m holding my breath as I watch him take a drink with his eyes trained on the cabinet in front of him. As I bite my lip, I clutch the edge of the counter, not knowing what to say or do around him anymore.

  Needing to move before I do something stupid, I sit at the table, rubbing my sweaty palms on my shorts as my heart rate picks up its pace.

  I want to tell him I know he was watching me last night. It’s killing me, not knowing if he’s repulsed by me now or turned on. I should feel guilty—or dirty—because of what occurred, but I don’t. Nothing about it felt wrong.

  Neither did our moment on the dance floor. The mere memory makes my core ache, and I clench my legs under the glass table to ease the sudden emptiness I’m feeling.

  Maybe that’s the problem. Nothing that ever happens between us feels wrong … to me.

  The impressive thing about Wes is his ability to wear many masks. He can be mad one moment and cavalier the next. That’s what he’s doing now as he sits down and talks to Chad about practice and the drills Coach was making them do. They discuss Nathan’s shoulder and Matt’s swing. They make fun of the way Adam runs and talk about their upcoming opponents.

  While he seems normal to everyone on the outside, it’s obvious to me that I’m being ignored.

  I reach for my drink and take my time in eyeing the man sitting across from me.

  “I can’t believe you missed the end of last night’s game. Where did you run off to?” Chad asks Wes. My drink goes down the wrong pipe, and I cough. “You okay, Stacey?”

  Covering my mouth, I look up at the ceiling. “I’m good.”

  Chad turns back to Wes, who merely states, “Had to see about a girl. Your sister over here blocked my game.”