In love with my brother's best friend

MatthewIt wasn’t every day that I got a chance to surprise my best friend, especially since our jobs had basically kept us in different countries ever since college. We’d gotten together every chance we could, but for the past decade it had been a once-per-year affair. And now that he was about to get married and start a family, that number would likely be reduced.Wearing my driver’s hat and standing in the baggage area of Hilton Head Island Airport, I felt a pang of anticipated loneliness at the thought. Scott getting married shouldn’t have bothered me as much as it did.I flexed my left hand, where I could still feel the phantom weight of my recently discarded ring, pulled my chauffer’s cap lower on my brow, and held up the sign I’d scrawled with a black permanent marker on the ride over. There was a surge of people into the baggage claim area, and I spotted Scott’s familiar blond head bobbing among the rest. As my bewildered friend staggered in my vague direction, I called out, “

MatthewWho the fuck is this woman?I could barely remember how to use the key card when we reached the door to the presidential suite. Which I now had to rename. It would probably up honeymoon bookings; nobody wanted to think of Woodrow Wilson on the most romantic trip of their lives.The more immediate issue was that my best friend’s little sister was brutally hot and incredibly fun, and she was about to be in my hotel room.The lights came on automatically when I opened the door, and Charlotte nodded with a grudging smile. “That’s pretty impressive.”“Wait until you see the rest of the place.” I couldn’t keep my eyes off her as she walked in. “Hourglass figure” didn’t come close to describing what was going on under her tiny shorts and distractingly thin tank top.The air-conditioning in the building enhanced the look.And she was Scott’s sister. Regardless of Scott’s insistence that he was only worried for my fragile emotional state—which wasn’t the glass castle of pain he envisio

MatthewThe bottle left her lips with a soft, wet pop. A single drop of water clung to her bottom lip before it slid down, tracing a glistening path over her chin, down the elegant line of her throat, and straight between those perfect tits. I watched it disappear into the valley between them like it had somewhere better to be than my mouth.Charlotte set the empty bottle on the coffee table with deliberate care, then looked up at me through those thick lashes, blue eyes dark with challenge and something hungrier. “Your turn to watch,” she said, voice husky from the shouting I’d already pulled out of her.Before I could answer, she slid off the couch in one fluid motion, knees hitting the outdoor rug with a quiet thud. The night air was warm, but the sight of her—naked, wet hair sticking to her shoulders, lips still shiny from the water—sent a fresh bolt of heat straight to my cock. She settled between my spread thighs like she belonged there, hands resting lightly on my knees as sh

Charlotte The morning came with more noise than the day before.I could hear voices in the corridor before I had fully woken up, someone laughing, a door closing, the particular kind of energy that moves through a building when everyone inside it is preparing for something. I lay still for a moment and let the sounds settle around me, and then I remembered what day it was and got up.Scott's wedding was tomorrow. Today was the last full day before everything changed, and the resort knew it. By the time I came downstairs, the lobby had already shifted into a different register, louder and warmer, with clusters of people gathered near the entrance and a steady movement of new arrivals coming through the doors with overnight bags and bright expressions. I recognised some faces from photographs Scott had shown me over the years and others I had never seen before, and all of them carried the same easy excitement that comes with being somewhere celebratory with people you are glad to see.