I swore I'd never cross that line.
My best friend claimed her first, ring on her finger, vows half-spoken in some glittering haze. She's his virgin bride-to-be, all wide-eyed innocence wrapped in silk that begs to be torn. Untouchable. Sacred. The one woman who could unravel me without a word.
But that night in the shadowy Manhattan study, champagne fizzing like bad decisions on my tongue, city lights bleeding through the windows like accusations. Her laugh hit me first, low and defiant, cutting through the loyalty I've worn like armor. One glance, and I'm done pretending. My palm slides to the small of her back. Her gasp owns me.
We crash together like thieves in the vault of his trust, door groaning shut behind us, frantic skin brushing in the dark. I strip her bare, inch by trembling inch, her shy defiance blooming into something savage under my mouth, my hands. She yields everything-her purity, her promises-arching into me with a hunger that mirrors my own buried ache. Sweat slicks our collapse, bodies heaving in the hush after I shatter her world. Her fingers trace the scars on my chest, tender, like she sees the loner starving for this raw claim.
It's betrayal distilled to ecstasy, every thrust a knife to brotherhood, to the empire we've built side by side. Guilt coils hot in my gut, but her whispers-"more"-fuel the fire. She's my ruin, this forbidden fruit pulsing with guilt-soaked need, and I devour her anyway. One wrong word, one slipped secret, and it all burns: our friendship, my self-respect, the life I've clawed from nothing.
What shreds us first-his rage when he finds out, or the terror of letting her go?
A full-length contemporary forbidden taboo erotic romance featuring a cocky best friend and his virgin best friend's fiancée. Includes themes of defloration, betrayal, and possessive obsession.
