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Huling Na-update:
2025-12-24 18:44:00I closed the conference call window and yanked out my earbuds, but when I looked over at Allie again, she’d transformed my office floor into what appeared to be a scholarly command center. Four perfectly organized stacks of books sat like literary monuments, each accompanied by its own arsenal of color-coordinated highlighters, gel pens, and sticky notes arranged with the precision of surgical instruments.
Jesus Christ. She’d militarized my sex book collection.“You have a system, Blondie?” I asked, because clearly this wasn’t casual browsing.“Personal accounts, essays, biographies,” she explained, slapping her palm against the first stack with the authority of someone presenting quarterly earnings. “Biology, psychology, sexology, and everything else that sounded vaguely scientific.” Second stack got the same treatment. “Guidebooks on how to have sex in all the different ways.” She drummed her fingers against the third pile like she was playing piano. Finally, she stret
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Choked And Claimed By My Brother’s Best Friend 108
My eyes flew open and I burst out laughing because his face was twisted in absolute horror as he wiped green goo off his hands like it had personally insulted his entire bloodline.“We should work on your complimenting skills.”“Alright, how’s this?”Before my brain could process what was happening, his hands locked around my waist and he hauled me into his lap like I weighed nothing. I let out a squeal that probably violated several noise ordinances, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt to keep from toppling backward while he positioned my legs on either side of him with the casual efficiency of someone rearranging furniture.Holy shit. When did he get this strong?“Look at me,” he said once I was settled, then softened it with, “Please.”“What are you doing?” I met those charcoal eyes even though the laser focus in them made me want to hide behind my hair. Nobody had ever looked at me with that kind of intensity. Like I was the only thing in his entire field of v
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Rationalizing everything into neat, logical categories while I spiraled through seventeen different worst-case scenarios. Those gray eyes stayed locked on mine, completely steady, ready to talk me through whatever chaotic thought tornado was currently destroying my brain.Except this wasn’t about sex or orgasms or research. This was just me and my overactive anxiety machine doing what it did best: turning simple problems into existential crises.“Don’t you have plans tonight? Business dinner? Hot date?” I asked, because surely a man like Alonzo Benington had better things to do on a Wednesday than babysit someone’s housing emergency. “I don’t want you canceling anything for me. You should go do your important billionaire stuff, but I’d feel weird staying here alone without you.”“Actually,” Alonzo said with that slight smile that suggested he found my rambling adorable instead of pathetic, “I do have plans tonight. But you’re welcome to join me.”Famous last words.
Choked And Claimed By My Brother’s Best Friend 106
My new schedule was dangerously addictive. Days at Alonzo’s researching human sexuality like it was my doctoral thesis, nights playing dress-up at charity galas with people who acted like they’d known Constance Montana since kindergarten. The fake familiarity was actually perfect – nobody questioned why I didn’t reciprocate their “remember when we did shots at the Hamptons” energy.I’d gotten disturbingly good at deflecting hard questions with strategic compliments. Someone asked about Constance’s father? “Oh my God, I absolutely love your necklace – where did you get it?” Boom. Topic changed, crisis averted.Sometimes Alonzo showed up to these events, sometimes he didn’t. When he was there, he never left my side, sliding into conversations with the kind of social fluency that made networking look effortless.Monday morning of week four in my career as a professional imposter, I showed up at his place with my backpack like some kind of academic nomad. He let me claim the
Choked And Claimed By My Brother’s Best Friend 105
Thirty minutes of social warfare later, we’d shaken enough hands to qualify for political office, discussed more summer vacation plans than a travel agent, and Allie had collected business cards like they were Pokemon cards.For someone with zero experience navigating these bougie social landmines, she was absolutely destroying the competition. That easy smile and genuine interest in people’s kids and designer dogs had every trust fund baby and social climber eating out of her palm.“How are you holding up?” I asked after TV host Marc Trenton finally stopped name-dropping his Hamptons house and wandered off, his stolen soap now safely tucked in Allie’s increasingly heavy bag.“Amazing. Look at this haul.” She held the bag open like she’d just robbed a bank. “That’s got to be at least ten more bottles.”“No, Blondie. How are you doing?”She blinked at me, pink creeping up her cheeks like someone had just asked her to recite the periodic table. “Are you asking whet
Choked And Claimed By My Brother’s Best Friend 104
A shadow slid across his face—there and gone like a passing storm—before the thunder followed.“Blondie. This? Here?” Alonzo fisted the front of my shirt and pulled me off the freezer’s breath. The door thudded shut. In the same breath he pinned me to it, thigh wedged between mine, heat and steel. “We’re practicing,” he said, voice low enough to vibrate in my ribs, “because when I fuck you, I want you screaming. Real pleasure. Not polite. Not pretend. And we’ll practice again, and again, and again—until that overactive brain of yours shuts up and the only thing left in it is my name. Your first climax is just the beginning of this. Understood?”My throat clicked. Your first climax will only be the beginning of this. Air vanished; the room tilted.“Understood?” His fingers closed around my chin, firm enough to send a hot shiver down my spine.“Yes,” I managed, a rasp.“One more thing.” He bent, lips ghosting along my cheekbone. The growl in his chest stroked the s
Choked And Claimed By My Brother’s Best Friend 103
Alonzo was at the office again on Friday. That made it the second day in a row we hadn’t seen each other since the whole vibrator incident, and the silence gnawed at me more than I wanted to admit. I told myself I was going to his apartment to bury myself in books, to study like a dutiful little academic. But the city heat had other plans.By eleven, the sun turned his penthouse into a glass greenhouse. The south-facing windows baked the air until my hair stuck to the back of my neck. I tried fiddling with the thermostat—pushed button after button until it beeped angrily and flashed a mocking red light. No matter what I did, the thing wouldn’t budge.“Asshole,” I hissed at it.Of course Alonzo had air conditioning. Of course he’d only ever set it to turn on when he was home. The man probably thought sweating through my clothes counted as character building.Fine. I could get relief in other ways.I opened the freezer, sighing when the first gust of cool air hit m
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