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CHAPTER 104: T-Bone
Last Updated:
2025-06-02 00:04:59
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Craving The Wrong Brother CHAPTER 108: You Owe Me A Skirt
He pulls out completely before snapping his hips forward, and I cry out. My head falls back as he hits a spot that makes my toes curl. “Yes. Oh, yes.” He leans down, and his teeth capture my earlobe, biting down just hard enough to make me yelp. "I want you to feel me. Every inch. I want you to know who's inside you, who's making you feel this way." I moan, my hips lifting to meet his thrusts, urging him deeper. The room fills with the sound of our flesh slapping together, of his grunts and my moans. One of his hands leaves my thigh, trailing up my stomach, leaving a path of goosebumps in its wake. He cups my breast through my blouse, squeezing gently before pinching my nipple. The sensation shoots straight to my core, making me clench around him. "Fuck, Sloane," he groans. "You feel so good." His words spur me on, and I meet his thrusts with abandon. The counter shakes, glasses rattle, and I'm pretty sure my heart stops beating entirely, my body focusing on only one thing: him.
Craving The Wrong Brother CHAPTER 107: Back Into Your Head
The words land right in the center of my chest, stealing the breath from my lungs. I almost smile. Almost. God. Why does he have to say it like that? With so much passion and authority. So blunt. So certain. Like it’s just a fact and not the thing I’ve been secretly dying to hear again since the last time he said it while I was dozing off in the playroom, that soft whisper of ‘I love you’ against my neck. My whole body reacts before my mind can catch up—chest tightening, skin buzzing, knees a little weak even though I’m sitting. I want to throw myself into his arms. I want to blurt it back and tell him, ‘Yes, I love you too. I’ll stay here forever if you want me to.’ We’ll figure out the closet space and whose mug is whose and grow old yelling at each other over breakfast. I want to be that girl. Just once. But that would be my heart talking. And maybe my hormones, because every inch of me wants to be touched by him when he says stuff like that. My brain, though? My brain is still
Craving The Wrong Brother CHAPTER 106: Russian Lullaby
Knox’s car follows behind mine the entire way to his house. I try not to overthink it. Try not to let what he said mess with my head. But it sits there anyway. ‘I think you might be in danger.’ Who or what am I in danger from? I glance at my rearview mirror again. His headlights still follow. It's a reminder of the conversation he refused to have until we reached his house. What if it’s something serious? What if someone’s watching me right now? I hold the wheel tighter, heart ticking a little faster as I scan the darkened sidewalks. I shake my head. This is ridiculous. I shouldn’t be spiraling like this, but Knox has this infuriating habit of withholding information until he’s ready to share—and meanwhile, I’m left to drown in my own anxiety. It’s a relief when I finally pull into his driveway and park. I sit there for a moment, hands still on the wheel, trying to catch my breath. His engine cuts a beat later, and I watch through the rearview mirror as he steps out. I get ou
Craving The Wrong Brother CHAPTER 105: Chaperone
*** ~~SLOANE~~ *** Initially, I’d been skeptical about what a meeting with Hunter, who claims he has bad blood with me, would be like. I half expected an ambush or some kind of ego-driven showdown, but so far, it’s been surprisingly… normal. Almost too normal. Hunter is a good conversationalist, I’ll give him that. He doesn’t miss a beat, steering the topics around the table like a well-trained maître d’ of words, making the pauses smooth, the laughter effortless. He’s nothing like the scheming antagonist he paints himself to be. Honestly, I’m beginning to see why Knox called him a softie. He's kind of sweet. Charming in the way that makes you forget your drink is empty until he signals the waiter before you even reach for it. It's the other man on our table that scares me. Mateo Torres. He doesn’t speak much. When he does, it’s like he's dissecting me, not holding a conversation. Every time I think the topic will swing to what my new role would involve—which is Hunt
Craving The Wrong Brother CHAPTER 104: T-Bone
*** ~~KNOX~~ *** I watch from behind the one-way glass as the new recruits take turns being interviewed for the private exotic dance sessions. Most of them try too hard. A few don’t try at all. And then there are the ones who know exactly what they’re selling—and exactly who they’re selling it to. The girl on the pole now is one of those. Sparkling lingerie. Legs toned. She’s upside down, her thighs gripping the metal with skill. Her head is angled like she’s weightless, and her hair brushes the stage floor. The judges nod, pens scratching on clipboards. I don’t know why I’m even here. The judges are more than capable of handling this process without me breathing down their necks. I haven’t sat in on a recruitment in months, maybe years. Yet here I am, arms crossed, jaw tight, watching the stage from behind the one-way mirror. I could say it’s just a quality control check. But that’d be bullshit. I know why I’m here. Sloane. The woman with short hair and blunt bangs who promi
Craving The Wrong Brother CHAPTER 103: This Is Not A Job Anymore
I nod, letting Serena's words sit between us. The light from the bedside lamp glows across the room, creating a halo around the edges of Serena’s profile as she stares up at the ceiling like it might offer some kind of comfort. I can still feel the tension clinging to her like sweat. “Do you even love him?” I ask gently. “Nathan.” Her lips part, but nothing comes out right away. Then, in a small voice, she says, “Maybe. He’s sweet, and he cares about me.” Her throat catches. A soft hiccup follows. Then the first sob. “And I just broke his heart,” she whispers, as if realizing it for the first time. “I’m an evil person, Sloane. So evil.” Her face crumples and her shoulders hunch inward. The tears come fast now. I slide toward her across the mattress and wrap my arms around her, pulling her into my chest. She doesn’t fight it. Just shudders in my hold, her body trembling. And even though she’s the older one, the taller one, the louder one, in this moment she feels impossibly smal
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