BROOKSIt wasn’t soft.It wasn’t slow.It was a collision—violent and starving—like we’d both been suffocating and this was the only way to breathe.We weren’t kissing. We were devouring.Stephan’s hands gripped my waist like he'd held me here a thousand times before in his mind and now he was just making it real. His fingers dug into my skin, possessive, pulling me against him so hard I could feel every inch of his cock, thick and straining through his dress pants.He backed me into the door so fast and hard it made the walls shake. I whimpered, my lips parting again for him, and he used that opportunity to push his tongue through.Fuck!I should’ve stopped this. I should’ve screamed or pulled away or reminded him—reminded myself—that this was wrong.But I didn’t.Because it wasn’t wrong. Not in that moment.His thigh shoved between mine and lifted, grinding against my throbbing pussy like he knew exactly how desperate I was. The pressure made my breath stutter, made me cry out, sha
BROOKSStephan: My office. Now.I was about to close for the day when I saw that messageJust two words. Two sharp, deliberate, bossy words that made my heart trip in my chest.My smile fell.I stared at the message a second longer than necessary, debating whether I could pretend I didn’t see it. But no.That man had a sixth sense. If I didn’t show, he’d find me. And I’d only have myself to blame.I let out a sigh and turned around, heading back into the building just as Betty and Austin were walking out, laughing about something I didn’t catch.Betty caught sight of me first. “Hey, thought you left already?” She said, “Did you forget something?”“Boss summoned me back.” I responded with a pout.“Yikes,” Austin winced dramatically. “End-of-day summons always feel like walking into the lion’s den. I swear, he acts like y’all aren’t siblings,”“Step-siblings,” I corrected and Betty laughed.“You’ll survive,” Betty said with a wink. “Good luck, though.”“Thanks,” I muttered, forcing a
BROOKSFuck…My legs fell open as I sank deeper into the mattress, phone propped beside me, Heath’s voice curling through the speaker like smoke… dark, slow, and addictive."I know you touch yourself to my voice and videos. And I love it! Touch yourself for me, baby. I know you're already wet. Slide a finger in… nice and slow."I followed, burying my finger deeper, breath hitching as a whimper caught in my throat."You’re thinking about my mouth, aren’t you?About how I’d lick you right there, tongue deep, until you can’t take it anymore."I bit my lip, eyes fluttering shut.Damn it, I’m dripping. "Add another finger. Come on, Brooks. Stretch yourself. I want that pussy open for me when I get back."A shudder rippled through me.My free hand gripped the sheets as I followed his voice—one finger, then two—curling just the way I knew would unravel me."You always get this wet for me? Bet you’re close already. God, I wish I could see your face right now. Your beautiful face when you are
BROOKSZade: I know you saw the sketchpad. Of course. I knew it. Another one came in.Zade: Can we talk? I’m not mad, Brooks. I just want to explain. Come to the recording studio? I’ve got rehearsal but I’ll make time.My stomach flipped.Not from guilt. Just… uncertainty… and curiosity.I texted back.Me: Okay. I’m open to hearing you out. On my way.I didn’t know what he was going to say. Or what I even wanted to hear. But I owed it to him… and maybe to myself, too.The studio was buzzing when I got there. Through the glass, I saw Zade with his bass strapped across his shoulder, head bobbing lightly as he played. Then he looked up.Our eyes met through the glass. I gave him a small wave.He paused mid-strum.“Take ten!” he called out, his voice muffled through the soundproof wall but unmistakably firm before making his way down. I met him halfway.“You came,” he said, a soft smile tugging at his lips.“It was either this or die from overthinking.” I shrugged, managing a tired gr
BROOKSI haven’t been able to stop thinking about those drawings.Venita. Dozens of her. Inked, shaded, posed. Naked.Some were tender. Most were obscene. All of them were intimate. Zade’s obsession in pencil and charcoal, and it was nothing short of a punch to the gut.I didn’t know what to make of it.Since that day in the studio, I’d been keeping my distance. Deliberately. Avoiding his texts. Dodging his casual invites to come hang out. It wasn’t even about being mad. I wasn’t.I was… unsettled. Disoriented.Zade waa the uncomplicated brother. That’s why I resonate better with him. Unlike Heath and Stephan, he certainly didn’t make me question what the hell he was thinking every time he looked at me.But this?This obsession, because that’s what it was, felt like a betrayal I had no right to feel. Maybe because it reminded me that nobody in this house was as uncomplicated as I wanted them to be.Especially not me.Zade noticed, of course.He always did.The texts started pouring i
BROOKSZade unlocked the studio door with a bit of flair, nudging it open with his shoulder and holding it for me.“Welcome back to the cave of tortured genius,” he announced, sweeping his arm like a dramatic tour guide.I snorted. “You’re so full of yourself, Zade.”“Only when I’m with my favorite audience,” he shot back, tossing me a grin over his shoulder as we stepped inside.The familiar smell of oil paint, wood clung to the air, and right in the center of it all stood an unfinished painting—large, stretched, and hauntingly beautiful even at a glance.My steps slowed as I walked toward it.“Is that…?” I tilted my head, taking it in. The lines were bold, moody. Feminine.“Sort of you,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sort of how I see you. There’s still a lot to finish.”“And how exactly do you ‘see’ me, Zade?” I folded my arms, glancing at him and he gave a small, crooked smile. “Complicated,” he began and I raised a brow. “Strong. A little untouchable.”That shut me up