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2025-12-12 15:14:00My eyes felt like someone had sandpapered my corneas while I slept. Which, considering I’d gotten maybe two hours of actual sleep, wasn’t entirely inaccurate. Every blink sent fresh waves of agony through my skull, and all the aggressive pink in Constance’s office was basically torture at this point. Like being trapped inside a cotton candy machine designed by a sadist.
This was what I got for letting Daphne and Tatiana drag me out to “celebrate” my new job when I’d felt about as festive as a funeral director. The whole Peter-Alonzo disaster had left me emotionally wrung out, but my friends had been determined to pump me full of caramel frappuccinos and force me to sing ABBA songs until I felt human again.It had actually worked. By the third rendition of “Dancing Queen,” life had seemed pretty fucking peachy.Now? Not so much.I squinted at the little plastic rectangle in my hands, trying to focus my caffeine-deprived brain on the details. “Where did you get this p
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Choked And Claimed By My Brother’s Best Friend 97
Jesus Christ. Even locked away, thousands of miles and years since she’d last had any real power over my life, Georgina still managed to dig her claws in. Manipulations didn’t fade—they fermented, grew sharper with time.“I can handle her,” I muttered, jaw tight.“Three strategies. Go.” Her voice cut through the air like the crack of a whip. Just three simple words, but they threw me back decades—late nights at the long mahogany dinner table, my head pounding as Georgina forced us through drills: international conflicts, historical battles, celebrity scandals, chess endgames. Anything that required strategy. We weren’t allowed to sleep until she was satisfied. I could still feel the ache of that polished wood against my forehead from nights when exhaustion won out.“Pregnancy and shotgun wedding,” Julius said smoothly, parroting the same plan he’d thrown at me weeks ago.If Georgina had feelings about it, she buried them beneath her usual steel mask. “Contraceptives?
Choked And Claimed By My Brother’s Best Friend 96
I dragged my stylus across the tablet screen, crossing out another useless paragraph about international ski properties. My lawyers had delivered a prenup draft that read like they’d copy-pasted from some generic billionaire playbook instead of doing actual research on Constance Montana.Swiss chalet rights? Seriously?The woman hadn’t left her house in fifteen years. Pretty sure she wasn’t planning skiing weekends in the Alps anytime soon. And the section about “potential future children living abroad” was pure fantasy – this marriage would last exactly as long as it took to merge Montana Corp with Xenos. Maybe eighteen months if we were being generous.These idiots had clearly never met an actual recluse heiress. They were probably picturing some social butterfly who’d want access to vacation homes and international custody arrangements. Constance would more likely negotiate for premium WiFi and organic grocery delivery.I fired off an email that would definitely r
Choked And Claimed By My Brother’s Best Friend 95
His finger sank deeper, slow but deliberate, and my body jolted. The gasp that tore out of me was too loud, too raw, echoing in the quiet. God, his hands really were as big as they’d felt in the kitchen. My walls tightened instinctively around him, my body trying to adjust to something my mind kept warning me against.I winced. “I bet you have a big dick.”Alonzo’s mouth curved into a smirk. “At least that’s a more sexual thought than cake.”“Oh, no,” I breathed, shaking my head, words tumbling out in a rush, “this is still very much anxiety talking. Because if your finger is—oh!” My hips jerked as he curled it inside me, hitting some internal switch I hadn’t even known existed. Sparks shot up my spine, electrifying every nerve.“Still anxious?” His tone was maddeningly calm, his finger moving in slow, unhurried strokes.“We are so not having sex,” I stammered. “Like ever. Because neither of us will enjoy my running commentary about how much pain I’m in.”“Ar
Choked And Claimed By My Brother’s Best Friend 94
My throat worked around a swallow; my tongue felt like sand against the roof of my mouth.“Whether you have a boyfriend or not is irrelevant to me,” Alonzo said, voice level, thumb tracing idle circles in the air as if he were drawing out the thought for me to see. “It’s irrelevant to how you want to be touched. A social contract doesn’t govern your body’s needs.”“That sounds like a very expensive way of saying you don’t believe in monogamy.”“I don’t.”“Then we’re incompatible.” I lifted my chin. “I’m a picket-fence kind of woman. And Peter is a picket-fence kind of man. That makes more sense for everyone.”“Do you want to stay with Peter and buy a picket-fence house with him?”“No.” The word dropped through me like a stone cutting cleanly through lakewater. I half expected it to skip. It didn’t. It sank. And I wasn’t even surprised.“Do you want me to keep touching you?” he asked, barely moving—only his thumb sketched along the curve of my breast through cotton, light as a whisper.
Choked And Claimed By My Brother’s Best Friend 93
Alonzo dragged his thumb across the bridge of his nose, scratching the space between his brows the way he always did when he thought he had the upper hand in a debate. His dark eyes slid toward me, sharp, patient, but challenging.“That it was unrealistic,” he said finally, voice dry, “for a college-level competitive swimmer to be training in a bathing suit clearly designed for pool parties in Ibiza.”I snorted, lifting my glass like a weapon. “Please. Realism went out the window the second the first episode opened on a dorm-based escort service. This is not a show you analyze, this is a show you surrender to. Stop worrying about whether it makes sense and start wondering who should date whom. Or, better yet, who would make the most entertaining villain.”He arched one perfectly sculpted brow at me. “Coming from the self-proclaimed queen of questioning everything?”“This is different.” I leaned back against the cushions, tossing my hair over my shoulder. “This is ind
Choked And Claimed By My Brother’s Best Friend 92
My ringtone erupted like a fire alarm, and before I’d even registered the sound, Alonzo was unplugging my phone from a kitchen outlet and sliding it across the counter to me.Peter’s goofy grin lit up the screen like a judgment from heaven, and my shoulders went rigid at the sight of his caller ID. I hit decline so fast I nearly broke the screen.“You charged my phone,” I said, because stating obvious facts seemed safer than acknowledging the elephant currently tap-dancing through the kitchen.“Same charger as the Bluetooth speaker.” His voice was carefully neutral, but I could practically hear his thoughts screaming at maximum volume.We stared at each other across the breakfast bar, the unasked question crackling between us like we were playing the world’s most uncomfortable game of chicken.The thing was, I couldn’t talk to Tatiana or Daphne about Peter’s accusations without admitting he wasn’t completely wrong about Alonzo. Without explaining what happened a
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