My Best Friend Brother Shouldn't Know How I Taste Novels & Stories

Testing me. I leaned closer, glass dangling loose in my hand. “Keep my brother’s name in your mouth, and I’ll make sure you never use it to speak again. Keep my aunt’s name there…” I let the words hang, “…and I’ll show you how Capones really taste. In your blood.” I turned and walked away with his words ricocheting in my skull. Your golden boy brother found that out the fun way. Might be nice to check if she tastes half as sweet as your brother Silvio…

I know it’s dumb and stupid, but I just can’t face him after what happened. What we did was wrong. It shouldn’t have happened. James is my best friend… who’s now my stepbrother. As much as I desire him, I shouldn’t have let my feelings take control of me. But Christ, I really can’t deny how good it felt being in his arms, having him touch me that way, kiss me that way. He knew where to touch; he knew where he wanted my hands, and he sure damn knows how to kiss. I felt high on the taste of him.

“My brother had freckles. My mom has them too. He’s the only one of the three kids who got them, but he had them. He passed them onto his daughter.” “Oh,” she blinked unsure of what to say. “I miss him,” his voice was low. “He was my best friend besides Keshaun. I always thought he never kept anything from me but I’m finding out he wasn’t who I thought he was. I’m angry and I’m struggling to deal with it.”

“You’re right and now I have a few things to mull over.” “I thought we agreed.” My brother exclaims “Nothing has been signed. Now I will show myself out.” The moment he is out of the office, both my brother and Beta Kyle round on me. “What the fuck did you say to him?” My brother demands, slamming a hand into my stomach. “N..nothing. Well, he just asked me why I smelled funny.” “Did you tell him?” Beta Kyle demands. He was practically spitting in my face. I hated him. I hated him so much that I had vowed to one day get my revenge and rip his stomach out through his mouth.

“Big difference.” I smirk because it’s easier than admitting she’s right. I’ve spent years perfecting the art of pretending Mia Reynolds is just Noah’s little sister. The kid who used to steal my fries and punch me in the arm when I called her squirt. Except she stopped being a kid somewhere between high school graduation and now, and every time she walks into a room I have to remind myself she’s off limits. Noah’s off limits. Best friend code. Blood oath shit. But tonight the code feels paper thin.

“My best friend, Chancé, would never do something like that. She’s not like you. She’s the purest person I know. She would never like my brother too.” To be honest, I want to die hearing those words. They hammer into my chest—the pain, the lie, all of it. I’m lying to my best friend. I’m evil, and she’s defending me. Hazel is right about one thing: I am a conniving, creepy slut, a liar who smiles to her best friend’s face while behind her back she’s sleeping with her brother.

“My face just… reacts when I’m mad.” “Uh-huh,” she said, popping open her soda. “Mad, flustered, tomato-red… it’s all the same shade.” I narrowed my eyes at her. “Are you seriously trying to suggest that I—” I lowered my voice dramatically, “—like your brother?” Liv nearly choked on her drink laughing. “Relax. I didn’t say you like him. I said he gets under your skin. Which, honestly, is his favorite pastime. He does it to everyone.”

I nodded cautiously, bracing for the next wave of judgment or disapproval. Her brow furrowed as suspicion flickered across her face. I could practically hear the gears turning, the way she processed the implication. My heart pounded in my chest. One thing I knew: I couldn’t lie to her. If she asked if I was screwing her brother, I would have to say yes. She paused, then shrugged, as though conceding to a truth she already suspected. “I understand. Brotherly… love.” I shifted in my seat, trying to mask the way my body reacted. If only she knew how little sense that statement made. It wasn’t brotherly love. Not in the slightest.

Then he stepped back, running a hand over his face. I knew, even in my haze, what this meant for him. Dante’s best friend. The family’s most trusted enforcer. Touching the boss’s little sister in a club booth, making her scream his name, carrying her home like a secret lover. In our world, that was betrayal. A death sentence if anyone found out. The room went quiet except for my slow breathing. The alcohol and adrenaline had finally won. I slipped into deep sleep. The taste of him and the feel of his fingers still lingering on my skin.

"You’re tasting yourself inside me." "Damn right." He sucked my clit hard, two fingers pushing deep. "My cum still dripping out of my sister’s best friend. So fucking sweet." I bit my arm to stay quiet, hips rocking against his mouth. "We have to be fast. She’ll come looking." "Then come fast." He pumped his fingers harder, tongue working my clit relentlessly. "Tell me how it feels getting eaten out by your best friend’s brother while she makes pancakes." "So wrong," I whimpered, thighs shaking around his head. "And so good. I’m already close."