Chapter three

MY BROTHER’S BEST FRIEND STOPPED PRETENDING PT 2.

The first week after that explosive weekend felt like walking on live wires.

Riley couldn’t look at Liam without her body remembering every thrust, every growled word, every time he’d filled her until she was dripping. And Liam, he acted like nothing had changed in front of Ethan. Same easy grin, same fist-bump greetings, same “Yo, what’s good?” when he came over to watch the game or work on Ethan’s busted motorcycle in the garage.

But his eyes always found her.

A quick flick when Ethan wasn’t looking. A slow drag down her body when she walked through the living room in yoga shorts and a cropped tank. A subtle flex of his jaw when she bent to grab something from the fridge and her ass brushed the air near him.

Ethan noticed nothing. Or if he did, he chalked it up to Riley being “weird lately.”

Monday night the three of them ended up in the living room. Ethan sprawled on the recliner, controller in hand, yelling at the screen during a late-night FIFA match. Liam sat on one end of the couch. Riley took the other, close enough that their thighs almost touched, far enough that Ethan wouldn’t think twice.

She wore loose sleep shorts and an old band tee, no bra. Every time she shifted, the fabric rode higher on her thighs. Liam’s gaze kept dropping, in quick, guilty glances before snapping back to the TV.

Ethan scored. “Fuck yes!” He pumped his fist. “You see that, Hayes?”

Liam forced a laugh. “Yeah, man. Killer shot.”

Riley stretched, arms overhead, back arching just enough to push her breasts against the thin cotton. Liam’s knuckles whitened around the beer bottle in his hand.

She stood. “I’m grabbing water. Anyone want anything?”

“I’m good,” Ethan muttered, eyes glued to the screen.

Liam met her gaze for half a second. “I’ll take one.”

She walked to the kitchen, hips swaying more than necessary. Heart hammering.

Liam waited thirty seconds, long enough not to look suspicious then stood. “Gonna hit the head real quick.”

Ethan didn’t even look up. “Yeah, yeah.”

Riley was at the sink filling a glass when Liam stepped into the kitchen behind her. He didn’t speak. Just closed the distance in two strides, pressed his front to her back, and pinned her hips against the counter.

His cock was already half-hard against her ass.

“Been hard since you walked in wearing those fucking shorts,” he whispered against her ear, voice low and gravelly. One hand slid up under her shirt, cupping her bare breast, thumb brushing her nipple until it pebbled instantly.

Riley bit her lip to stifle a moan. “Ethan’s literally ten feet away.”

“Exactly.” Liam’s other hand dipped into the front of her shorts, fingers finding her already slick. “Makes it hotter.”

He circled her clit once in a slow, teasing motion then pushed two fingers inside her. Riley’s knees buckled. She gripped the counter edge, breath hitching.

“Quiet,” he warned, lips brushing the shell of her ear. “Or he’ll hear how wet you get for your brother’s best friend.”

She whimpered softly. His fingers pumped slow, deep curls that hit that spot every time. His thumb kept steady pressure on her clit. Her hips rocked back instinctively, grinding against his erection.

“Fuck, you’re dripping down my hand,” he growled. “Missed this tight little pussy.”

Riley’s head fell back against his shoulder. “Liam please,”

He pulled his fingers out abruptly and brought them to her mouth. “Suck.”

She did greedily tasting herself while he watched over her shoulder.

Then he spun her, lifted her onto the counter in one smooth motion. Spread her thighs wide and yanked her shorts and panties to the side.

“Gonna eat you right here,” he said, dropping to his knees between her legs. “And you’re gonna stay quiet.”

His mouth closed over her clit, hot, wet suction. Tongue flicking fast. Two fingers plunging back inside. Riley slapped a hand over her own mouth, eyes rolling back.

The TV blared from the living room. Ethan’s shouts of “Come on, ref!” covered the wet sounds of Liam devouring her.

She came fast, her thighs clamping around his head, body shaking, muffled cry trapped behind her palm. Liam licked her through it, slower now, savoring every flutter.

When he stood, his chin glistened. He kissed her hard letting her taste herself then adjusted her shorts back into place like nothing happened.

“Better go back,” he murmured. “Before he wonders.”

Riley slid off the counter on shaky legs. Fixed her shirt. Walked back into the living room first.

Ethan glanced up. “You good? Look flushed.”

“Hot in the kitchen,” she managed.

Liam followed a minute later, casual as hell, handing her the water bottle he’d grabbed on the way. “Here.”

Their fingers brushed. Heat shot straight to her core again.

The rest of the week was torture disguised as normalcy.

On tuesday morning, Ethan was in the shower. Liam was “helping” Riley reach something on the top shelf in the pantry. He pressed her against the shelves, ground his hard cock against her ass for ten glorious seconds while whispering, “Tonight, your room. After he crashes.”

She came untouched just from the friction and his filthy words.

On Wednesday, they had a movie night. Ethan passed out halfway through. Liam waited five minutes, then slid his hand under the blanket draped over both of them. Fingers slipped inside her sleep shorts. Slow, torturous circles on her clit while Ethan snored three feet away.

Riley bit the blanket to stay quiet and came clenching around nothing, thighs trembling. Liam licked his fingers clean while staring straight at her.

They were all in the garage on thursday whenEthan ran to the store for beer. Liam had her bent over the workbench in under thirty seconds with her shorts yanked down, cock slamming into her from behind. Hard, fast, and desperate, with one hand over her mouth, the other gripping her hip so hard she’d have bruises.

“Gonna fill you up before he gets back,” he panted. “Want you leaking me all night while we sit on the couch like nothing’s wrong.”

He came deep in hot pulses that made her whimper. Pulled out, watched his cum drip down her thighs, then wiped it with his thumb and pushed it back inside her.

“Keep me in you,” he ordered.

She did. Sat through the rest of the evening with his cum slowly leaking into her panties, thighs pressed together, trying not to squirm while Ethan talked about work.

Friday night was the breaking point.

Ethan had a date with some girl from his office. He left at eight, bragging about how he’d probably crash at her place.

The second his car pulled out, Liam was on Riley.

He didn’t speak. Just scooped her up, carried her straight to Ethan’s bedroom, Ethan’s fucking bed and threw her down.

“Been wanting to do this all week,” he growled, stripping her fast. “Fuck you in his room. Make you scream my name where he sleeps.”

Riley’s heart raced with wrongness and heat. “Yes, do it.”

He ate her first with his face buried between her thighs, tongue fucking deep while his fingers rubbed her clit. She came twice, shaking, pulling his hair.

Then he flipped her onto her stomach, yanked her hips up, and slammed inside in deep, brutal thrusts that made the headboard smack the wall.

“Tell me whose cock you want,” he demanded.

“Yours, Liam, fuck! only yours.. .”

He fucked her harder. “Gonna cum in this bed. Leave my mark so every time he sleeps here he smells me on the sheets.”

Riley pushed back, meeting every snap of his hips. “Do it, fill me up please,”

He roared, buried himself deep, and came, thick, hot ropes flooding her until it leaked out around his cock. He kept grinding, milking every drop, then pulled out and watched it drip onto Ethan’s comforter.

Riley collapsed, panting. Liam kissed her spine, soft now.

“Shower,” he murmured. “We’ll clean up. He’ll never know.”

They showered together with slow, lazy kisses under the water. Liam soaped her body like he was memorizing every inch. Washed between her legs gently, fingers slipping inside to scoop out what he’d left.

“Still gonna feel me tomorrow,” he whispered.

They remade Ethan’s bed. Sprayed air freshener and laughed like teenagers at how close they’d come to getting caught all week.

When Ethan stumbled in at 2 a.m., drunk, happy, none the wiser, Riley was in her own bed, thighs still tender, Liam long gone through the back door with one last text:

“Next time he leaves for the weekend again, I’m tying you to his headboard. No mercy.”

Riley smiled into the dark, already aching for it.