Bad For You: (An Older Brother's Best Friend Romance) Read online

  Bad For You

  Charity Ferrell

  Copyright © Charity Ferrell

  All rights reserved.

  Cover: Mayhem Cover Creations

  Visit my website at www.charityferrell.com

  Join my mailing list here.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, brands, places, and incidents are either product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  About the Book

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Dear Reader

  Excerpt from Beneath Our Faults

  Excerpt from Stepbrother Aflame

  About the Author

  about the book

  Take my advice. Never fall for your brother’s best friend.

  Bracken Casey.

  Our hometown’s playboy. My brother’s best friend. The man I love.

  He doesn’t do girlfriends. He doesn’t do commitments.

  And he doesn’t see me as anything more than his best friend’s little sister.

  Until one night changes everything.

  A drunken kiss leads to a drunken screw.

  Now he can’t keep his hands off of me, and I can’t say no.

  Rules are set: No one can find out. It can’t lead anywhere.

  But rules were always meant to be broken.

  And that’s exactly what we are doing. Breaking them all.

  Something bad is bound to happen.

  prologue

  “We shouldn’t be doing this,” he says, the words strained as they fall from his lips.

  His mouth might be saying one thing, but his actions are giving me another story as he slowly slides his cock inside of me. Heat rips through my blood with his first hard thrust.

  “I know,” I whisper. “But nobody has to know.” I hold back my grin, but I’m mentally throwing my hands up in victory. This is what I’ve wanted for years, what I’ve begged for, and it’s finally happening. Holy shit.

  Is this a one-night stand? I sure hope not, but I’m too terrified to ask.

  I peek up at him. His thick lips are parted, his eyes hungry, as he pounds in and out of me with force.

  This man.

  This fucking man.

  He’s my obsession.

  And me? I’m a foolish girl.

  Like so many tragic, lovesick yuppies before me, I’ve fallen for a man I can’t have. I knew before his soft lips grazed mine, before I fell in his bed, and before I allowed him to touch and taste every inch of me that he’d never be mine.

  But that didn’t stop me.

  Take my advice.

  Never fall for your brother’s best friend.

  chapter one

  nautica

  “You better have a good as fuck explanation why you’re here.”

  Oh shit.

  Even in the rambunctious, college-coed filled bar, there’s no mistaking who the deep husky voice behind me belongs to. That voice – it’s haunted me for years, took too many parts in my self-induced orgasms, and ruined every chance of me loving another man.

  The cash in my hand drops down onto the sticky bar in what seems like slow motion. Thud. I can hear my pulse thrashing against my ears. Thud.

  Out of all places, out of every damn bar on campus, he has to show up at this one. Go fucking figure. There goes my night of craziness before I head home for the holidays.

  The bartender slides my drink in front of me, scoops up the fallen cash, and meanders off to help his next customer, leaving me in dread. I stay frozen in place, debating whether or not to hop over the bar and make a run for it.

  I take a pass on that idea. He’ll chase after me, and my embarrassing high school track record tells me I’ll lose.

  “Nautica,” he barks, causing me to jump. “Turn your ass around and look at me before I toss you over my shoulder and drag you out of here.”

  He’s not bluffing, either. He’ll do it, and he’ll most likely make a scene of it to teach me a lesson.

  I take a long gulp of my too-strong drink to gain some liquid courage and slowly pivot around in my high-heeled booties. I yelp as the vodka soda is ripped from my hand. He lifts it to his smirking lips and chugs it down, tauntingly.

  Asshole.

  “What the fuck?” I snap, gaining the attention of the crowd around us. “Rude much?” I make a grab for my now-empty glass, but fall short when he holds it higher than my five-foot-three frame. The jackass has a good eight inches on me. “Do you mind?”

  “No, I don’t fucking mind. This is the last time I’m asking you. What the hell are you doing here?” His devious blue eyes level down on me, making me even more nervous. He crosses his arms over his muscular chest and leans back on his heels, waiting for my reply.

  I’m trying my damnedest to keep up with my pissed-off attitude, but my attraction to him, mixed with the alcohol flowing through me, is altering my mind.

  I lick my lips. His jet-black hair is slicked back with gel. Not in a geekish way – more of a ‘I’m trying to look casual but still get girls to drop their panties in a second’ kind of way. A black, flannel button-up is thrown on over a white V-neck tee, and his ripped jeans hang low on his hips.

  Damn, I want this man.

  I part my lips, certain I’m going to start salivating at any moment. This is what happens when you’re around the guy you’ve been obsessing over for years. You pant like a fucking dog in heat.

  Bracken Casey.

  He’s my brother’s best friend, and the guy who’s been designated my babysitter while I’m away attending Kansas University. He probably wouldn’t have been given that job title had my older brother, Simon, known all of the dirty things I want to do to him in my dorm room.

  I ignore the curious stares pointed our way and gesture to the crowded bar. “What does it look like I’m doing?” I hiss. “The same damn thing you are. I’m having fun.” I attempt to squeeze past him. “So if you’ll excuse me while I do.”

  He grips my waist, his nails biting into my skin roughly, and stops me. His sharp gaze roams to my left side and then to my right. My eyes shoot to the floor, fully aware of what is coming next.

  “Then who the fuck are you h
ere having fun with?” he questions. “From the looks of it, you seem like some desperate, naïve chick alone in a bar waiting for some guy to date rape her.”

  My eyes don’t leave the beer-splattered ground. “Macy,” I lie.

  Okay, I halfway lie.

  I did come here with my best friend, but she ditched me fifteen minutes ago in the arms of the last guy who bought her a drink to head back to our dorm. She suggested I call Bracken and ask to crash at his place, or come back in a few hours if I don’t want to hear her getting screwed.

  His chilly fingers wrap around my chin to pull my head up, forcing me to look at him. “So … where the fuck is your little roommate then?” He makes an annoying show of looking around the room.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  “She uh … had to run back to our dorm real quick.” I’m not fast on my toes in the lying department, which is why I was never successful in getting to do illegal shit in high school. Simon always caught me up when I couldn’t keep my stories straight.

  His lower lip snarls as his face twists in anger. One thing Bracken Casey isn’t is an idiot.

  “She had to run back to your dorm real quick?” he repeats slowly. “The bitch did it again, didn’t she? I’m going to strangle her.” I stumble forward as he snags my elbow and drags me across the room to the back of the bar. “I told you to quit hanging out with that hoe.”

  I had actually planned on calling and asking him if I could stay at his apartment, but I hadn’t been ready to call it a night yet. I wanted to enjoy one last drink before taking a cab back to his place so he wouldn’t know I’d been here.

  Unfortunately, just like my roomie, that plan is long gone.

  I jerk out of his hold. “First off, don’t call my best friend a hoe.”

  “She fucking ditches you non-stop to ride some douchebag’s cock. I’ll call her a hoe and every other name in the fucking book if I want. I swear to God you’re not rooming with her next year. I don’t give a shit if you’re stuck with some chick who eats her boogers and picks her ass. It’s not going to be Macy.”

  “She has a high sexual appetite. Don’t use that against her, or try to act like your friends,” I snort, “Or you, are any better. Just because you have tiny weasel dicks instead of a vagina doesn’t make you superior.”

  For years, I’ve watched him and my brother recycle girlfriend after girlfriend. Or hook-up after hook-up, considering they think a committed relationship is the equivalency of having your balls on a chain.

  He laughs, but his face turns serious. “Now, I can’t speak for my friends, but my cock is definitely far from being tiny. You must be mistaking me for one of those frat boys you keep wasting your time with.”

  A smile builds along my lips. “Prove it to me then.”

  My words are bold, clear, and challenging. Excitement trickles up my spine like a lit match as people dance around us. The mood shifts. I lock my eyes on him, but he averts his gaze, refusing to look at me.

  I fell in love with this man before I even knew what the word love meant. He stole my heart the first time I saw him. He was the kid down the street who rode his bike over on the day we moved in. The box in my hand tumbled to the ground when he slammed on the brakes and hopped off his bicycle. The heel of his Converse punched down on the metal kickstand. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and came my way with a bright smile on his face. Even at twelve, the boy was a charmer.

  The night of his graduation party, I’d embarrassingly, and drunkenly confessed my undying love for him. I snuck out of my house with Macy and we crashed it. He blew me off, making it crystal clear I was his best friend’s little sister. That was it. He didn’t and would never see me that way.

  I ended the night weeping in his passenger seat while he took me home, and puked in the floorboard of his truck as a final goodbye. He snuck me back into my house, tucked me in, and disappeared like a stranger in the night. We’ve never brought it up. It’s like it never happened.

  “How did you even get in here?” he asks, choosing to ignore my comment.

  He has a habit of doing that. It pisses me off. I know my flirting annoys him, but I’m a determined woman. Eventually, I’ll get Bracken to fall for me … or at least fall into my bed.

  “The same way you did,” I answer. “I walked through the front door.” I groan when he gives me a hard look. “Fine. My I.D.”

  “Your I.D.?” I nod. “That’s weird, considering your I.D. says you’re only fucking nineteen. I know this place is strict on checking that shit, too. So spill, Nautica.”

  “I have a fake.”

  “And how in the fuck did you manage to score a fake?”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  Macy briefly dated a guy who hooked us up with them a few months ago. She slept with him a few times, slipped him twenty bucks, and we took our first trip to the liquor store twelve hours later.

  “It’s time for you to go.” He grabs my arm again and practically drags me through the crowd. We stop at a table where his roommate, Jasper, and a few other guys are crowded around.

  “Well, look who it is. I was wondering where the hell you ran off to,” Jasper says, when he notices us. “I assumed it was for some pussy. But not this off-limits pussy.” He looks me up and down with a smart-ass grin on his face and laughs when I flip him off.

  Jasper is a head-full-of-blonde-hair pretty boy. He reminds me of your stereotypical college guy who plays tennis and spends his daddy’s money on too much booze and women.

  “And who do we have here?” a drunken voice asks. I look over to the guy sitting next to him that I don’t recognize. His light hair is shaved short, and a pair of thick-framed glasses sits on the top of his nose. I cringe at the over-eager look on his face.

  I let out a grunt when Bracken snags me around the hips and pushes me behind his powerful body. “Hands off, asshole,” he warns, spit flying from his mouth. His voice thunders with authority. “She’s my best friend’s little sister. She’s off-limits, and I mean it.”

  “Touch her and he’ll kick your ass, man,” Jasper says, cutting in. I step out from behind Bracken and give him a dirty look. “I tried once and was rewarded with a fist to the face.” He points to his crooked nose. “Almost fucking broke this beauty.”

  “I have to take her home or … somewhere. I’ll be back in awhile,” Bracken tells them.

  “I can’t go home for a few hours, or possibly morning,” I say, stopping him.

  “Then you can hang out in my truck until Macy is done getting fucked.”

  “Dude, quit being a fun sucker,” Jasper calls out. “Let her chill out with us for awhile. You can keep an eye on her here. You think she wants to go home and deal with that shit?” He signals to the empty stool next to him and then to me. “Sit your ass down, get a drink, and let’s have some fun.”

  I hop on the bar stool before Bracken has the opportunity to argue and drag me out of here. Jasper looks over at me and winks.

  “Simon doesn’t hear about this,” Bracken says, taking the seat next to me. “And your ass is drinking water.”

  “Absolutely not,” I argue.

  Jasper jumps off his stool. “So you don’t get your panties in a bunch, roomie, I’ll get her a drink,” he tells Bracken. He glances over at me. “Any special requests?”

  “Whatever is fine. I’m not picky,” I answer.

  He claps his hands. “That’a girl. It’s shot time, ladies and gentleman!” He salutes us before heading over to the bar.

  “I take it you have no place to crash tonight?” Bracken asks me.

  “Unless I want to listen to my best friend get railed, then nope. She called dibs on our room and suggested I give you a call. I’ve already asked a few other girls on our floor if I can stay with them, but their rooms are full,” I reply.

  “Hate to break it to you, but our place is, too. I can drop you off at the homeless shelter a few blocks away. They have fresh sheets and hot meals.”

  I sm
ack his shoulder. “Very funny, asshole.”

  He grins, giving me a view of his straight, white teeth. “So my place it is?”

  I nod. “And I’m getting your bed. Jasper’s bedroom was fucking disgusting the last time I stayed over. He had condoms, used condoms, sitting on his nightstand only a few inches from my pillow.” I cringe, disgust rising up my throat as I remember how I dry-heaved at the sight of them. I ended up grabbing a blanket from Bracken’s room and sleeping over his comforter, trying to do everything in my power to keep my body from touching anything. “How disgusting is that? The trashcan was only three steps away. I counted.”

  “Oh, quit being a spoiled princess. Be grateful he was gone and you didn’t have to sleep on the couch.”

  “It probably would’ve been more sanitary than condom city.”

  “I’m not so sure I can agree with that statement. Jasper has allowed a lot of his friends to sleep on that thing. Not to mention, he fucks all the girls he doesn’t deem worthy of his bed on it. Now considering we both know how low his standards are, which one would you prefer?”

  I frown. He has a point. I straighten my back up. “How about you be a gentleman for once and let me sleep in your bed?”

  He shakes his head. “The only time a chick is allowed to stay in my bed is if my cock is in her mouth or in-between her legs. Otherwise, that shit doesn’t happen. I don’t share my bed or have sleepovers. You’ve known me long enough to know that.”

  Every inch of my skin tingles. I close my eyes and imagine what it would be like to be that girl. The one who has his cock in her mouth or in-between her legs. That lucky girl. I’m jealous of her.

  I quiver, hoping he can’t see the blush rising along my cheeks. It takes me a minute to reply. “You know I’m not like most chicks you let in your bedroom,” I say.

  “Trust me, I’m fully aware of that.”

  “So it’s settled then. I get your bed.”

  “No. Consider yourself lucky I might not tell Simon about all of this shit with Macy. I hate secrets, and it’s happened too many times.”