My Brother's Roommate  - Book cover

My Brother's Roommate

M. Thompson

Chapter 2

LAYLA

I shut off the shower and swaddle myself in a towel. I leave my hair wet, figuring I don’t have time to dry it before the party.

As I open the bathroom door, I nearly collide with Brandon. His gaze skims over my exposed skin, lingering on my damp neck before finally meeting my eyes. My face is burning.

“Did you forget I’m a guy?” he teases. “You’re lucky I’m not into you,” he adds.

His words sting, not because I want him to be attracted to me, but because he said it so casually. I step closer, jabbing his chest with my fist.

“Who said I want to be attractive to you? You’re not exactly a catch yourself,” I retort, my voice laced with anger. He just smirks in response.

“You think this is funny? This is why I can’t stand you,” I snap, storming off.

BRANDON

Damn, seeing her in that towel makes me want to forget about my best friend and teach her a lesson. I want her to think twice about parading around in a towel in front of me.

Her petite, sexy body wrapped in that towel is a serious turn-on. But I know I can’t go there. My best friend made it clear she’s off-limits to all his friends.

He wants her with someone her own age, someone respectable. Everyone knows I’m the bad boy who loves trouble.

I want to get into trouble with her every night. I want to hear her moan under me. I want to make her climax on my cock. But most of all, I want her.

I want to taste every inch of her, but she’s off-limits. I didn’t realize how much I wanted her until now. I’ve always been mean to her. She probably hates me.

I start brushing my teeth, trying to think of ways to keep my distance from her.

LAYLA

I pull on a short-sleeved black shirt and dark blue jeans. Once I’m ready, I step out to find Brandon leaving his room, dressed in his usual attire, including his black jacket.

“Why do you always wear that jacket?” I ask.

“My mom gave it to me before she died,” he replies, his hand tightening on the fabric.

I don’t know much about Brandon. We’ve never really hung out. But I do know he has tattoos all over his torso and arms.

“Ready to go?” he asks, not waiting for my answer before heading out.

***

We arrive at a party teeming with people. There’s a pool and a huge house filled with college students.

As soon as we step inside, all the girls' eyes are on Brandon. They whisper and giggle, noticing that we arrived together.

A bartender passes by with a tray of shots. I reach for one, but Brandon snatches it out of my hand before I can take a sip.

“Hey! What the hell?” I protest, trying to reclaim my drink.

“You’re too young to be drinking,” he says.

“Stop treating me like a kid,” I retort, reaching for the drink again.

But he downs it in one gulp. I’m so pissed. He won’t even let me have a drink.

“You can go now. I don’t need you hanging around me,” he says.

I storm off, fuming. How dare he just ditch me at a party? I don’t know anyone here.

I grab another drink from the bartender and down it. It’s not a shot; it’s something stronger. Suddenly, I feel very drunk and stumble into someone.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble.

“It’s okay,” a tall, handsome guy says. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I reply, trying to stand straight and fight off the drunkenness.

“Hey guys, we’re playing Truth or Dare in the backyard. Come join if you want to play,” someone yells from the back.

Thinking it might be fun, I head to the backyard. The guy I bumped into earlier follows.

When we get there, a group of six people, including Brandon, are already playing. He has his arm around a girl who’s all over him.

The nerve of him, doing that right in front of me. Disgusting. I sit down on a log next to the guy from earlier, and Brandon shoots him a glare.

“Let’s start the game,” the guy from earlier suggests. “Who wants to go first?”

The guy I bumped into spins the bottle. “Okay, Lance, you have to truth or dare the mystery girl next to you,” the group’s ringleader says.

“What’s your name?” Lance asks me.

“Layla,” I reply.

“Alright, Layla, truth or dare?” he asks.

“Dare.” I glance at Brandon. I’m drunk from that strong drink, but I don’t think he’s noticed.

“Kiss me,” Lance says, smirking. I’m taken aback for a moment, then lean over and peck his cheek. Everyone laughs at his surprised expression, and eventually, he just smiles at me.

***

“I need to go. I’m feeling dizzy,” I tell everyone, leaving the house and heading for the front yard.

Damn, why did I drink?

“I told you not to drink, especially not anything strong,” Brandon says, following me out of the house.

“I’m an adult, Brandon, so stop treating me like your little sister,” I retort, heading for the car. But he grabs my arm, pulling me back.

“I’m not trying to baby you. I just don’t want you to get too wasted at these parties and end up regretting something,” he tells me.

“I’m 21 now. I think I can take care of myself.”

“I know, and you have no idea how much I wished that kiss could have lasted forever,” he admits, and I meet his gaze.

“Brandon, you shouldn’t be saying things like this. You’re drunk,” I point out, but he just pulls me in closer.

“I’m not sure if it’s a good idea for us to be in the same house with you like this,” he confesses.

“It’s okay, we can talk more when we get home,” I assure him, and we head to the car together.

***

During the drive, I notice he seems to be getting drunker, as if his drink had been spiked. We make it home safely, but his feelings are becoming more and more apparent.

Once we’re inside, he has me pinned against the wall. His gaze alone makes me squirm under his body. That kiss has left us both in a state of confusion.

Without hesitation, Brandon slowly peels off my shirt. I can’t believe I’m just letting him do this.

I tilt my neck to the side as he starts to suck on it, giving him access to every inch.

“Brandon,” I moan, and he smirks in response.

He lifts me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist. He carries me to his room, and once we’re inside, he locks the door.

He lays me on the bed and takes off his own shirt. I slide off my pants. He positions himself between my legs, and I can feel his hard length pressing against my clit.

“Ahh,” I moan unintentionally, which only turns him on more.

He removes his pants and starts kissing my chest. I unclasp my bra, and he begins to suck on my breasts, taking his time to nibble on them. His experience is evident in the way he treats my body.

“Brandon,” I moan.

He bites his lip as he slides off my panties. He moves down and starts to pleasure me with his mouth.

“Ahh huh ahh ahh,” I moan as he works his magic.

A wave of pleasure washes over me as I climax, and he moves back up, kissing me passionately as he grinds against me.

I moan into his mouth as he thrusts between my thighs, rubbing against me. I squeeze my legs together.

“Ohhh,” I moan over and over until we climax together.

“Brandon,” I moan one last time, digging my nails into his back as waves of pleasure wash over me.

We’re both panting and sweaty. He rolls off me and pulls me close, holding me against his chest.

“That was amazing,” I whisper before drifting off to sleep.

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