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“Agreed.” He rubs his chin, and I don’t miss how his eyes dart to Reid’s room. “I’ll come up with something after practice in the morning, which is early as fuck, by the way.” I frown at his language, which prompts him to add, “If you’re staying here, you gotta get used to how I live, and talk, and everything else.”

“It’s fine.” I lunge at him and wrap my arms around him. “You’re a good big brother, you know that?”

“Yeah,” he yawns, stretching his arms over his head, “well you’re still the pain in the ass little sister.”

4

Reid

I’ve wokenup with a boner every morning of my life since I hit puberty. It’s a sensation as familiar as stepping onto the ice, or the sound of a puck bouncing off the boards. As are the dreams that come with it–deep, ball-squeezing fantasies featuring whatever woman my subconscious conjured up. A few had recurring roles. The older babysitter three doors down showed up after seeing her sunbathe in a bikini in her backyard. My math teacher, Mrs. Walsh, was another, primarily due to the fact she had enormous tits and wore a tight sweater dress every fucking day. There were others; actresses, models, musicians–most recently Ingrid Flockton who seems to be everywhere with her guitar, long legs, and ever present cowboy boots.

But my best friend’s little sister?

That’s a first.

Shelby’s face and body are the last thing I see before the alarm jolts me awake, but it’s the memory of her weight, her thighs straddling mine, and the feel of her ass in my handsthat has me rolling over and driving my cock painfully into the mattress.

Shelby Rakestraw showing up on our doorstep when I was home, intentionally avoiding females, is some epic-level irony. Showed upandkissed me. Some guys would call that luck, but that’s not what I felt when Axel sucker-punched me. Or currently, when all the blood in my body has rushed to my balls. I roll over to release some pressure, but that’s futile. Gripping the base of my shaft, I cave, and give it a long stroke.

It feels like I’m tempting fate and asking for another busted lip. Unfortunately, Axel can keep me away from his sister, but he can’t stop my subconscious from fantasizing. I don’t know what it was about her that got me hard two seconds after she climbed in my lap. The innocent good girl vibe? Those pouty, hot,naivelips. The feel of her body bearing down on my dick? I’d kept my wits–but if he hadn’t walked in, would I have stopped?

An image of me coming on her chest pops into my head and a second later, I groan, unable to stop the clench in my balls and the following orgasm.

Shit.My chest rises and falls as cum spills over my fist.

Axel’s right. I need to stay the hell away from Shelby. My goal for the rest of the year–the rest of my life–is for my relationships with women to be easy. And Shelby Rakestraw, for all her innocence, has complicated written all over her.

Syncingmy phone to the speakers, I turn on my morning workout playlist, letting the music fill the weight room.

“Partner up?” Jefferson asks. His eyes are bleary, but he heads straight to the free weights to start his routine.

“Sure.” I grimace, feeling the bruise in my jaw. Jeff notices and his eyebrow raises. “Who the heck did you piss off last night? Someone’s boyfriend?”

“Not quite.” Although it does make me wonder what Shelby’s boyfriend or fiance orwhateverwould have thought about last night. “Someone’s big brother.”

He howls with laughter and my eyes dart across the room at the big brother in question in the middle of a set of pull-ups. His tattoos and cut muscles make him look like a beast. Heisa beast and I know the busted lip could’ve been a lot worse.

“Wait,” Jeff says, the pieces slowly clicking into place. “Axel?” He blinks. “His sister? The virgin?” His voice lowers. “Did you fuck her?”

I wince, because that virgin thing is just speculation from things Ax has said about his family. “Dude, shut up unless you want a matching bruise.” Making sure no one is listening, I add, “No. It was just a miscommunication.”

A miscommunication? Is that what happened when she stuck her tongue in my mouth? Yeah, I don’t think so.

“Morning.” Reese strides into the room, thankfully getting me out of this conversation. He claps his hands together and announces, “Let’s get going!”

At the front of the room, our team leader fusses with the tape wrapped around his wrist. We’ve been friends and roommates for three years, and I’m lucky as hell we ended up on the same team. He’s a powerhouse–our center forward–headed to an early pick in the draft. Like me, he dated the same girl for a long time, then entered his slut-phase. Unlike me, his only lasted a few months before he fell hard for our former athletic trainer, Twyler. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, has a chiseled jaw like a Marvel superhero, and is an all-around good guy. He’s also captain of the team, but it’s the attitude that makes Jefferson jokingly call him Captain America. “Coach wants everyone to doa full series using your personalized training program then we’ll suit up for some cardio. We’re playing Eastman this weekend, and although we’re no longer undefeated, we’re in contention for the finals.”

His statement is followed by a groan, but Reese is right. Eastman is notorious for having unprecedented conditioning. They may not have the best forwards, but they make up for it with sheer stamina, able to keep going long after other teams have exhausted themselves.

“Is anyone else okay with the fact we lost our undefeated status?” Kirby asks, adding weights to the end of a bench press.

“I’m good with it.” Murphy lies on the bench underneath, arms stretched over his head, preparing to lift. “I couldn’t take another minute of Axel’s porn ‘stache.”

“It started to look like a squirrel was sleeping on his upper lip.” Kirby shudders. “Hey, Cap!” Reese looks up. “From now on, can all superstitions need to be voted on by the team?”

Axel drops off the pull-up bar and gives Kirby a dirty look. He wore that mustache the entire time we were undefeated. It was both hilarious and disturbing.

“If we’re voting on anything, it needs to be on music selection,” Axel says, the ring in his eyebrow glinting in the overhead light. “Who gave Wilder unilateral control?”