Page 39 of The Bad Brother

E THAN’S FIANCE′.

Sloane is Ethan’s fiancé.

Correction: Ethan is Sloane’s ex -fiancé.

Which makes absolutely no sense at all because I met my brother’s fiancé. I know her—and she is definitely not Sloane.

But there’s no denying what she said.

Ethan Pryce is a douche.

I even asked her again to make sure I heard her correctly and I had.

My brother is the man who cheated on Sloane with her best friend.

Left her broke and homeless, just weeks before their wedding.

Amy must be the best friend. With Sloane out of the picture, Ethan would have to marry her.

His twenty-seventh birthday is next month.

He doesn’t have time to waste on finding someone else.

Maybe not .

Maybe your first impression of Sloane was the right one.

Maybe she’s just as sick and fucked up as Ethan.

Maybe she’s here, working her way under your skin, fucking you—making you fall, fast and hard—just another of the twisted games your brother likes to play at your expense…

because let’s be real here—she’s a creeker.

What could a woman like her possibly see in a guy like you?

Looking down, I expect to find a stranger.

Someone I don’t even recognize. Someone who’s spent the last several weeks reeling me in with perfectly placed lies and the best sex I’ve ever had in my life.

Someone who is going to show her true colors and stab me in the gut, the second my little brother snaps his fingers and calls her home.

But when I look at her, all I find is Sloane.

The woman who’s had enough backbone to go toe-to-toe with me more than once. The woman who’s befriended River and somehow managed to gain Sera’s trust. The woman who just cried herself to sleep in my arms because she had to take a girl’s leg today and blames herself.

A woman like that would never come running for a man like my brother—but she could be fooled by the slick, pretty mask he wears to hide just how psychotic he actually is and I can’t fault her for that. Not when there was a time I’d been fooled myself.

And honestly, all of this is irrelevant. Who Sloane really is and why she’s really here—none of it matters because it’s too late.

I’m already in love with her.

That’s what freaked me out earlier. Hit me hard and sent me reeling.

The realization that I’d fallen in love with her somewhere between shaking her hand and making her a fucking sandwich.

That the when is impossible to pinpoint because I keep falling hopelessly and desperately in love, every time I look at her.

You need to tell her who you are. What Ethan is to you before she finds out on her own. Before this turns into a lie she’ll never forgive you for.

Fuck.

Standing slowly and carefully so I don’t wake her, I carry Sloane upstairs.

Crossing the room, I gently lay her down on the bed.

Leaning over so I can tuck her in, I have every intention of going home but before I can, I feel her move beneath me.

Hear the sheets rustle quietly while she reaches up to brush cool fingertips along the line of my jaw before she whispers the one word that can send me straight to hell.

“Stay.”

“Sloane…” It comes out rough, the sound of it graveled and pitted like my throat is full of hot asphalt. “You’ve had a really long day. I don’t?—”

“Please,” she whispers softly. “I don’t want to be alone.”

Hell.

Straight to hell.

Turning my face into the palm of her hand to press my lips against it, I nod. “Okay.”

Straightening just long enough to kick off my boots and jeans, I pull off my socks and shirt before skirting the end of the bed to crawl under the covers on the other side.

Sliding across the sheets, I hold my breath when she turns toward me but I can’t stop myself from reaching for her.

Laying on my side, I pull her close, making her the little spoon, her back pressed against my chest.

Settling in with a sigh, she angles her head on our shared pillow to press her lips against the underside of my jaw. “Thank you,” she says softly before turning away to tuck the top of her head under my chin.

“I didn’t do anything, Peach, except make you cry and a mess in your kitchen,” I tell her, my tone still rough and full of holes.

Hell.

Straight to hell.

“You picked me flowers and made me grilled cheese,” she reminds me softly. “No one has ever done things like that for me before.”

“Things like what?” I should stop talking. Let her fall back to sleep so I can leave but I can’t. All I seem to be able to do is lay here, with her in my arms, and make things worse.

“Things that matter.” Her fingers trail done the length of my arm to thread themselves between my own. “Things that make me feel like I matter.”

Tell her, you asshole.

Tell her right fucking now.

“You do matter...” Tightening my arm around her, I lean down to press my lips against her neck. “I need to tell you something. Something you’re probably not going to like.”

“Okay.” Before I can stop her, Sloane turns herself in the circle of my arms. Facing me, mouth inches from mine, she nods her head on the pillow. “I’m listening.”

Say it.

Just say it .

Now, before it turns into a lie she’ll never forgive you for.

“Do you remember when I told you earlier that my brother was here?” I ask because I’m too much of a fucking coward to say it outright.

“Yes.” When I mention Ethan, her brow crumples slightly. “You said he was here causing trouble.”

His name is Ethan Pryce.

Your ex-fiancé is my psychotic younger brother.

“I had cameras installed.”

Coward.

I’m a fucking coward.

When I blurt it out, her frown deepens. “I know,” she says on a confused laugh. “They were here when I left for?—”

“No. I had them installed here. In the loft.” Shaking my head, I loosen my arm from around her waist. “They’re everywhere.

” I had no real intention of telling her but I understand why that changed.

I’m telling her because I want her to get mad at me.

Tell me I’m a weird, perverted asshole for invading her privacy and to get out.

That she never wants to see me again because that would end things without me having to tell her the truth about who I really am.

What I don’t understand is her reaction to my confession.

“Oh...” she says, brow still crumpled while she pieces it all together. “Is that how you knew I was home?”

“Yeah. I have an app on my phone that lets me look at them whenever I want.” Nodding, I wait for it to hit her. That I’m invading her privacy. Watching her without her permission .

She’s quiet for a few moments before the tension in her forehead eases away on a sigh. “Okay.”

“ Okay …” I repeat the word back to her like I’ve never heard it before. “What do you mean, okay ? I just told you that I had surveillance cameras installed in your private space without telling you. How is that okay?”

“Maybe you were right,” she tells me, her eyes shining mischievously in the dark. “Maybe I do like being spied on.”

“I’m being serious, Sloane.” I don’t know why but her reaction makes me feel about a million times worse.

“So am I.” I can hear it in her tone. She’s confused by my reaction. When all I do is keep staring at her like she’s crazy, Sloane sighs. “This isn’t my private space, Jensen—it’s yours. I’m only borrowing it. I’ll be moving out—sooner, rather than later.”

I’ll be moving out—sooner, rather than later.

As soon as she says it, everything else disappears.

Nothing else matters.

Not the fact that fate cruelly tied us together, long before we ever met, or even the fact that by not telling her, I’m no better than my bottom-feeding brother.

Because Sloane has made up her mind, even if she hasn’t said it outright.

She’s leaving.

“I told you I don’t want you to move out,” I remind her, the words barely able to push past the tight flex of my jaw even while I’m telling myself to shut up.

That letting her go, in light of everything I’ve learned over the last hour, is what’s best. That ending it before she finds out who I really am is the smartest thing I can do .

But I can’t.

I can’t fucking do it.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Sloane shakes her head. “I know what you said, but I have to be practical about this. I can’t just?—”

That’s as far as I let her get.

“You’re not listening, Peach—” Driven by pure, desperate need, I tighten my arm around her waist, pulling her against me before I roll her onto her back.

“I said I don’t want you to move out .” Hips wedged into the cradle of her thighs, I roll them against hers, dragging the hard bulge of my cock up the seam of her pussy before grinding myself against her clit.

“Jensen…” My name rattles up the length of her throat on a sharp gasp like she can’t understand how we keep going from fighting to fucking so fast.

Bracing an arm above her head, I lower myself so I can whisper in her ear.

“I want you here …” I do it again, cock stroking her through the thin, wet silk between her thighs.

So wet it soaks the front of my boxers and coats the stiff length of my shaft with her arousal.

“I want you in my space…” I tell her on a groan, nearly blacking out when I feel her short, blunt nails sink into the skin stretched across my lower back on a soft, breathless moan.

“In my bed…” Angling my hips away from hers, I slip a hand between us, jerking her panties to the side so hard I hear them rip.

“So I can fuck my filthy little peach whenever I want.” I growl it in her ear while I stroke two fingers, hard and deep, past her entrance, her pussy instantly releasing its juices all over my hand.

Fuuuck .

“ Ohmygod —” Sloane’s eyes fly open and pin themselves to mine on another sharp gasp, the shocked sound of it telling me that this is something new. Something she’s never done before. That she’s never given in to anyone else so completely. “Did I?—”

“Did your greedy little pussy just make a mess all over my hand?” I give her another hard thrust while I brush the pad of my thumb over her juice-slicked clit, triggering another flood that soaks the bed sheets under her hips.

“It sure the fuck did.” I pump my fingers, the dirty, wet sounds her pussy makes for me, going straight to my cock.

“Do you know what that means, Peach?” Another hard thrust, twisting and rubbing my fingers against the desperate clench of her core, this one soaking the palm of my hand.

It’s everything I can do to stop myself from pulling my fingers free so I can lick them clean.

Instead, I give her another deep, punishing thrust. “It means your pussy belongs to me.”

“ Jensen .” My name comes out on a broken cry, gaze still pinned to mine while she digs her heels into the mattress. “Please…” Thighs shaking, she lifts and angles her hips against the rough fuck of my fingers, chasing the orgasm, dangling just out of reach. “ Please ?—”

I give her clit a light, teasing stroke with the pad of my thumb while the fingers I have buried inside her rub and stroke her core. “Please what?”

“Please fuck me…” she begs me, the thin, desperate whimper of it like a hammer blow against the base of my spine.

“Please, Jensen—” Hips lifting and swiveling against the invasion of my fingers, she moans in frustration like it’s not enough.

Like the only thing that will satisfy her is the fe el of me pumping and fucking myself into her tight, greedy pussy. “I need?—”

Rearing up, I have her naked before she can finish—her panties ripped off and the shirt she’s still wearing gone, from one breath to the next.

Falling over her again, I barely have time to jerk my boxers down far enough to free my cock before I’m inside her.

Impaling her on a hard, deep stroke that triggers another flood of arousal that drenches my cock.

“ Fuuuck …” I groan it out loud, pushing myself up to grip the top of the headboard, elbows locked, while I pump and fuck myself into her.

“ So fucking good .” Pulling out almost completely before thrusting myself back in, over and over, until the wet, desperate grip of her pussy starts to milk my cock.

“Rub your clit for me,” I growl down at her while I wrap my free hand around her throat, pinning her in place so I can fuck her, hard and fast. “I want to watch you touch yourself while your filthy little pussy squirts all over my cock.”

“ Yes …” Trembling legs wrapped around the backs of my thighs, hips rolling and flexing against mine, Sloane pushes a hand between us.

“ Ohmygod …” Desperate fingers brushing against the fast pump of my cock while she swirls and teases them against her own clit.

“Jensen…” She screams my name, hips bucking and crashing against mine while she comes apart for me.

“You’re not leaving…” Letting myself fall over her again, I growl it against her mouth while she comes.

“You belong here. You belong to me.” I feel the heat and pressure of my own release start to claw down the length of my sp ine, pushing me to fuck her harder.

Deeper while her pussy grips around me like a fist. “ Say it .”

“I belong here…” she moans, desperate fingers pushing themselves into my hair while another orgasm shudders through her. “I belong to you.”

Like a trigger, the words streak down the length of my spine like a missile to slam into the base of it, blowing me apart and destroying what little sanity I have left.