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My Best Friend's Brother

My Best Friend's Brother

Blueink

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"Crawl to me, Jo," his voice was a low, dangerous command. I crossed my arms, glaring at him, trying to ignore the pulse of my blood and the heat pooling between my legs. "Make me," I shot back. His smirk was the only warning I got. I knew I was in deep trouble. --- Joan Madison has always despised Aaron Thompson, her best friend's arrogant, insufferable brother. The feeling was mutual-until it wasn't. A vacation meant to be a getaway with her friend Rhoda takes a sharp turn when Joan finds herself tangled in a steamy, reckless encounter with the one man she swore she'd never want. What should've been a fleeting mistake becomes something far more dangerous as Aaron refuses to let her go-and his hunger for her only deepens. Jo's trapped between desire and defiance, but one thing is clear: this game they've started could burn them both.

Chapter 1 Wrong Place, Wrong Time

~Joan~

"This place is... wow," I muttered as we entered the house, its floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, a fireplace glowing faintly, a rooftop pool gleaming under the fading light, and more rooms than I could count. The house was absolutely perfect, yet something felt off.

"So... how did you know about this place?" I asked Rhoda, who had already sunk into the plush sofa, crossing her legs, while I stood by the window staring at the dazzling city of Spain below.

"Well, this is one of Aaron's properties," she chuckled. My stomach dropped. Aaron?

"He doesn't know we're here. I have the spare keys to the building. I mean, why ask when I can just walk in?" Rhoda said, making a playful gesture with her arms, her smile wide and carefree.

"This is Aaron's house?" I asked slowly. She whipped her head around, her smile fading, eyes narrowing slightly.

"Yeah, it's his." Her voice grew sharper as she met my gaze. "What's going on?"

I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling disbelief wash over me. "I can't believe you brought me to Aaron's house of all places," I muttered, my pulse quickening. I felt foolish for admiring the place, now knowing it belonged to the last person I ever wanted to be near.

Rhoda straightened up on the couch, her amusement dimming. "Exactly why I said he has no idea we're here. Jo, your feud with my brother is seriously getting ridiculous."

"Oh, really? You think this is childish?" I snapped, crossing my arms. "Have you forgotten the time we both landed in jail and he bailed you out, leaving me there to rot?"

Rhoda opened her mouth to speak, but I cut her off. "Or the time we crashed his party, and guess who got blamed for that? Me! He called me a bad influence, told me to stop dragging you into 'bad things.' He acts like I'm the villain in your life."

"Jo..." Rhoda started softly, probably trying to calm me down, but my anger was bubbling over.

"And now you bring me to his house? You really think I won't get blamed for this too?" I spat, feeling the sting of frustration in my chest.

Rhoda stood and closed the distance between us, her face softening. "Jo, I'm really sorry. I didn't think. I just wanted us to enjoy our girls' trip, and this house is... well, it's perfect." She gestured to the room around us, but I barely glanced at it. "I should have talked to you about it. You're right."

I exhaled slowly, trying to push away the tension in my body. "If we hadn't spent a small fortune getting here, I'd drag us both back to New York right now," I muttered.

Rhoda grinned, relief flooding her face as she pulled me into a hug. "Now come on, let's go explore the city. We didn't come all this way to sit inside, did we?"

"Please tell me we're going to see Barcelona," I said as she grabbed my hand, and she nodded enthusiastically.

"Of course! Coming to Spain and skipping Barcelona would be criminal," she replied as we headed to the bedroom where our luggage was dropped.

I tried to shake off my discomfort while Rhoda gushed over the inbuilt walk-in closet. I forced myself to admire the design of the room, but my insides churned. The house was beautiful, but knowing who owned it left a bad taste in my mouth. Something was gnawing at me, and I couldn't shake the sense that everything was about to go wrong. My instincts had never failed me before.

"Tomorrow, we'll get up early enough to make it to Madrid in time," Rhoda said cheerfully as we walked back after wandering through a few blocks and malls.

I hummed in response, distracted, my mind still not fully in the moment. Rhoda tipped her head back, letting the cool evening breeze wash over her face, her eyes closed, a peaceful smile on her lips.

"It's nice to breathe fresh air outside of New York," she sighed. I glanced over at her and followed her lead, lifting my gaze to the night sky. The tension in my muscles eased ever so slightly.

Rhoda suddenly snapped her eyes open, a mischievous glint in them. "First one back to the house gets a paid manicure at the fanciest salon in the city!" she challenged, and before I could respond, she darted off, her laughter trailing behind her.

I couldn't help but laugh, my worries slipping away for just a moment as I chased after her. By the time we stumbled back into the house, both of us out of breath and giggling, it felt like a weight had been lifted, if only temporarily.

Maybe I could enjoy this trip after all.

Rhoda pushed the door open and froze, her smile vanishing. I stepped in behind her, peeking over her shoulder, and my heart sank.

There he was, sitting in the living room, swirling a glass of something dark. His expression was unreadable as he downed the last of his drink, the sound of the glass slamming against the table cutting through the silence. Rhoda shuddered, and I felt a knot form in my stomach as I frowned.

Aaron.

The devil had arrived.

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