Page 18 of Buckle Up, Buttercup

Heat flares along my cheeks and down my chest, nipples pebbling at that challenging, possessive expression. What do I do with this?!

I’m thankful when a bell dings, and we both get up to grab the food.

Half an hour later, I’m so full, it hurts, and Hadrian’s half asleep on the sofa, eyes heavy-lidded as our intrepid Galaxy Quest team struggles to understand that aliens do exist.

I quietly quote my favorite parts as the room gets chillier and chillier. Eventually, Hadrian glances over. “You cold?”

I laugh. “Among the other failures of this trip, I neglected to realize it would be cool at night.”

He shifts upright and yanks his sweater open at both shoulders, revealing miles of taut purple skin and ab muscles so thick they’re like building blocks. They’re, like, fake abs, they’re so good. He could be wearing one of those fake ab sweaters. I force my eyes up when he snaps the sweatshirt back together, then turns to me.

Pulling it over my head, he helps me get it fully on and then smiles. “Got it cooled up for ya.”

I wave at his everything. “You won’t be cold?”

“I’m fine, Bluebell,” he says quietly. Then he wraps an arm around my shoulder and hauls me close. “I’m not as warm as a human would be, but c’mere.”

Fuck meeeeee. I’m tucked against his side, my feet under his thigh as he angles sideways so I’m basically resting on his side and chest.

His slightly cool skin smells faintly of soap as he shifts to make room for me, muscles flexing beneath his beautiful dark skin. Resisting the urge to slide my hands over his abs, I carefully rest my cheek on his naked pec. His fingers grip my shoulder even though his eyes don’t move from the television. Is he finding this as awkward as I do? I’m snuggling my brother’s best friend I’ve had the hots for for ages.

But within moments, he’s asleep and snoring softly, manspread all over the couch while I try to take up the minimum amount of space without making this awkward.

He wouldn’t have pulled me close if he felt weird about it. Eventually, I roll with it and try not to pass out on his half-naked body while I’m wearing his clothes. This could be so, so hot if things were different.

Sigh.

Hadrian

When I wake with a raging erection, it takes me a moment to remember that Bluebell’s in the bedroom, which is why I’m out here in the living room. We fell asleep on the sofa last night, but I worried about her comfort, so eventually I picked her up. Carrying her to the bedroom and tucking her in was the most sensual thing I’ve done in a long time, feeling that trim body wrapped in my arms. Taking care of her came so naturally to me, my protective nature loving every second of it. I didn’t want it to end.

I’m sure that’s why my dick’s throbbing and leaking precum all over my sweats.

It’s not because I’ve fantasized about her for years, a secret I’d told myself I’d be taking to my grave.

Soft snores ring from my room. Without really thinking, I rise and tuck my cock down one leg of the sweatpants. Stalking past the kitchen, I open the bedroom door, telling myself I just want to make sure she’s okay, that she’s not cold.

A lump in the middle of the bed makes the blood rush to my dick, and I resist the urge to fist it and get off right here. I can’t do that. I can’t do that. But she’s curled up all tiny, still wearing my sweater. Our combined scents are everywhere in the room.

I jacked off four times in that bed before the game. The smell of my pleasure in the same room where she’s sleeping has me so hard, I could almost come just looking at her.

She groans and rolls over. Hard nipples pebble beneath the soft fabric of my clothing as she stretches long in the bed. She’s waking, and if she wakes up to find me staring at her with a hard-on, things are gonna get weird.

Holding her on the sofa last night was probably a step too far, but I couldn’t help myself when she was shaking with cold.

But now it’s this morning. Forcing myself away, I return to the kitchen and put a cup of coffee on, thinking about anything I can to get the erection to go down.

Jasper.

Skyball plays.

My dumb parents.

Not to mention the fact that Bluebell and I have been friends for almost three decades. I’d be crazy to risk fucking that up…right?

By the time the coffee’s done brewing, I’ve got things as under control as is possible with her wearing my clothing in my bed.

But she’s perfect for me, I think as I sigh aloud and step out onto the porch. It’s no longer chilly, and the courtyard below is full of monsters eating breakfast that smells delicious from up here. That devil on my shoulder telling me to make a move on my best friend’s sister? He’s gotta go.