Page 49 of My Brother’s Best Friend

“Clearly I did something.” He brought his hand to my chest. “Your heart is racing.”

“Can’t it just be racing from being here with you?”

I caught his lips in a kiss. I didn’t want him to think he’d messed up when he hadn’t at all. Plus, he had a tendency to close his eyes when he kissed me.

“Cam.” Jordan looked frustrated when he broke the kiss. “Please, just tell me. I can take it. Are you changing your mind? Because it’s okay if you are. If this is moving too fast for you.”

“It’s not that,” I groaned. “I just—I’m just not used to being looked at. Or, at least, not used to it being a good thing, when someone’s staring at my body.”

“Oh.” Jordan’s voice was soft. “I didn’t realize.” He pressed a kiss to my neck. “Is there anything I can do to convince you that when I’m looking, it’s definitely a good thing?”

The look he gave me was so earnest. It washed over me like daybreak, and something inside me melted.

“What you’re already doing is good,” I told him. “Really. More than good. It just might take a little time.”

“Well, you can have all the time you want from me. You can have everything.”

He kissed me again, and it was slower this time, gentler. Like he was trying to kiss those words onto my tongue, so I could speak them even when he was gone.

I was rock hard, like that blow job at The Port Hole had never happened. I hipped up, our cocks sliding against each other. Jordan twisted, slipping off me and onto his back. He tugged me on top of him, his hand sliding in between us, stroking us together.

“I’m not too heavy for you?” I asked. “I don’t want to break you.”

“I’m not made of glass, you know. But no, not too heavy. You’re perfect.”

“You’re biased,” I said with a laugh, but I let a little more of my weight fall onto him.

“Maybe,” he said. “But I seriously don’t understand how you made it this far without—I mean, I’m not trying to sound judgey, but how are people not throwing themselves at you all the time?”

“I don’t know if I’m the best person to answer that,” I said wryly. “All I can tell you is that they’re not.”

“Or they are, and you’re just not seeing it.”

“I’m pretty sure I’d know if people were attracted to me.”

“You didn’t know that I was attracted to you.”

“You don’t count.”

“Oh, thanks. That’s nice to hear.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do know what you mean,” Jordan said. “But I think you’re wrong.”

“I’m not the type of person people throw themselves at,” I said. “I’m awkward. And clumsy. Just this afternoon, I practically molested you in front of my grandparents, and you ran away. And you like me—or say you do, anyway. Imagine if that had happened with anyone else.”

Jordan looked at me incredulously. “Are you serious? I ran away because I was embarrassed that I basically begged you to fuck me by rubbing my ass on your dick.”

I frowned. “You yelled when it happened.”

“I didn’t yell.”

“Okay, maybe it was more of a growl, but—”

“It was a moan, you dummy. It was a moan because I was so turned on by how close you were, and I ran away because I was mortified that I’d come onto you twice in two days. Talk about molesting—I’m the offender here.”

“What are you talking about?”