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Pulling into my driveway, I shut off the engine and stare at my home. It’s a small ranch style with dark-gray siding. It has two bedrooms and two bathrooms and is under twelve hundred square feet, but it’s just me. I can afford a bigger place. Hell, the shop is thriving. It’s not about not being able to afford it. I’m a single guy. My buddies stop by, but that’s it. There are no women who come here. This is my space, and that’s that. The only one of us who has a big place is Forrest. He bought it to give Emerson a home.
Climbing out of the truck, I make my way into the dark house. The motion sensor night-light comes on as I lock the door back behind me and go straight to my room. I’m already stripped out of my shirt, and my shoes are kicked off by the time I reach my en suite.
Flipping on the light, I reach in and turn on the water before stripping out of the rest of my clothes. I tell myself that I’m not going to get myself off to her. Not again. This has to stop. I can’t keep imagining her lying on her bed, naked for me. Her body flushed, and those smooth legs of hers wide open, putting her pussy on display for me. I know it’s wrong. I need to control these urges, but here in my home, behind these walls, it’s just me.
Me and my thoughts.
Me and my memories.
I wash my hair and face and move to my body. My cock throbs, begging for release. If I don’t do something about it, I’m not getting any sleep tonight. Squirting some body wash in my hand, I grip my cock and moan as I lurch forward, resting my other palm flat against the shower wall.
Closing my eyes, I try to pull up an image that isn’t her, but my mind is blank. She’s the only thing I see. I grit my teeth as my hand strokes from root to tip. The head of my cock is sensitive due to my piercing, and that just leads me to think about whether or not she would like it. I know it increases pleasure for both of us, and I want to give that to her.
Damn it.
“Emerson.” I moan her name, and my balls tighten. I should be embarrassed. That’s all it takes for me to go from “almost there” to “ready to coat the shower walls with my cum,” but I’m not embarrassed. I’m turned the fuck on.
I pump faster, letting images of her play on repeat, and there it is. I shoot off like a rocket, keeping my eyes closed, not wanting to let the images of her go just yet. I stand under the hot spray, letting the water rain down on me.
It’s been months since I’ve been laid.
Months.
Up until she came home for spring break, I was doing fine. I was able to pretend like she wasn’t the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on. I still had the occasional hookup, nothing crazy, but I haven’t even looked at another woman since that night.
She broke my cock.
I can’t get it up for anyone but her. The guys and I go out for a beer and the ladies swarm. They tend to do that, thinking they’re walking on the wild side when they see our ink. Usually, there’s a stir of something, and if I’m feeling it, I’ll indulge. Since that night—nothing. Not a single twitch of my cock if it’s not her.
Emerson Huntley has me beguiled.
That translates toI’m fucked. She’s my best friend’s little sister.Littleis the keyword, as she’s ten years younger than me, and I have no business thinking about her bent over her brother’s kitchen island, but here we are.
I need to do something to get her out of my head. It’s just a funk. It has to be. Forrest, and the rest of the guys, we’ve been tight since kindergarten. I can’t ruin a lifelong friendship because my cock wants her attention.
Who am I kidding?Iwant her attention.
When the water finally turns cold, I twist the handle and step out of the shower. Quickly, I dry off and slip into a pair of boxer briefs before climbing into bed. I stare up at the dark ceiling, willing sleep to claim me. When I finally manage to fall, I dream of her.
As tattoo artists, we keep crazy hours. Some early mornings, but a lot of late nights and weekends. We have to be available when our clients are. It’s nice, though, because we get to make our own schedules, and if we need time off for whatever reason, we take it. The five of us are equal partners in the shop, and none of us abuse the luxury. However, today is a day I wish that I would have canceled my clients and stayed locked up in my house.
Emerson is here. She wasn’t supposed to start until next week, but apparently, she was bored, so here she is. All five foot six of her, with her long brown hair, her big green eyes, and looking sexy as fuck.
So, now, here I am, sitting in my room, staring down at my sketchpad. I have a client coming in about twenty minutes, and I’m making some final tweaks to his design. However, I can’t concentrate with the sound of her laughter flowing throughout the building. It pisses me off that Legend, Maddox, and Lachlan are out there chatting her up. I know they all see her as a little sister. At least they better fucking see her that way, but it still pisses me off.
I know that I could go out there and join them, but I don’t trust myself to keep my hands off her. I grip my pen a little tighter. I swear I can still feel the softness of her skin from last night.
There’s a knock on my door, and I look up to find Emerson standing there. She has a small pad of paper in her hands. “Hey, Rome.” Her voice is soft and almost timid. I want to pull her into my arms and kiss the hell out of her.
“Em.” My voice is gritty.
“I’m going to run and grab lunch. Do you want something?”
You. “Sure. Just grab me anything,” I say as I reach into my back pocket for my wallet. I pull out two twenties and hand them to her. “Yours is on me.” I clear my throat. “For going to get it.”
“You don’t have to do that. Forrest already—” she starts, but I lift my head to stare at her.
“Use my money to buy your lunch, Emerson.” I don’t know why I’m making a big deal out of this. It’s just lunch, and he’s her brother, but there’s something deep inside me that wants to know that I took care of her today.
