The Forbidden Brother. Joanne Rock

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The Forbidden Brother - Joanne  Rock

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used a hand to tug her skirt higher. Out of the way.

      She was in the process of tearing open the packet when he touched her through the silk of her panties, finding her hot and ready for him. He withdrew the condom from her, rolling it into place. His pulse pounded in his temples, the need for her an undeniable urge. A fierce ache. He wanted to take more time, touch her until an orgasm simmered through her. But her restless hands roved over him, peeling away his shirt and undershirt, tracing down his spine, spearing through his hair. Her hips bucked, and the slide of her soft, feminine center against his rigid length threatened to take his knees right out from under him.

      Being inside her was his only option.

      Slipping her panties aside, he entered her, slowly. Her fingers flexed against his arms, her nails gently biting into his skin as she held herself still. Head thrown back, she parted her lips on a sigh of pleasure. Her cheeks flushed deep pink, her lashes fluttering as she started to move with him.

      The feel of her all around him was the sexiest high he could remember. From her boots hooked around his waist to her blouse sliding off one shoulder, she was all in. Her honeysuckle scent called to him, and he licked her tender skin while he buried himself deep inside her. Over and over again.

      He held back when he could tell she was close. Her cheeks went from pink to small spots of red, her breath hitched and her hips went still. He slipped a hand down to touch her intimately, caressing tender circles right...there.

      She came apart in his arms with a cry of pleasure that brought his release surging right afterward. Heat blasted his shoulders as sweat popped along his spine. The sensation went on and on, pummeling him, wringing everything from him. She clung to him, shifting against him as the aftershocks rocked her.

      “Carson.” She breathed the word with a sigh, her eyes closed and her head thrown back.

      His brother’s name on his lover’s lips brought everything inside Cody grinding to a halt. His heart rate slowed. His brain ceased working, too. Nothing made sense.

      “What did you just say?” His mouth formed the words even as a chill rushed over his skin. He shifted his hold on her, barely able to think.

      She peered up at him through eyelids at half-mast.

      Whatever she saw in his expression must have given her pause, because she tipped her head sideways and worried her lower lip with her teeth.

      “Carson,” she repeated, loud and clear, even though she looked abashed. “I’m sorry. I knew who you were when I walked into the bar. I was looking for you.”

      “Not me, sweetheart.” With an effort, he straightened his shoulders. “I’m Cody McNeill. You’ve got the wrong twin.”

       Three

      “You’re Cody?” The color drained from the woman’s face, as if that was extraordinarily unpleasant news.

      Not that he was surprised. Cody did just fine with women when he chose to, but Carson had always been the ladies’ man. Clearly, Carson was the guy she’d been hoping for. So yeah...he wasn’t surprised, but definitely a bit disappointed given the incredible encounter they’d just shared. After his last go-round with a faithless female, Cody wasn’t in the market for a woman who had her eyes on another man.

      “In the flesh.” He disentangled himself with an effort, setting her on her feet.

      Only to realize, as he tidied up, that the condom she’d given him was now in shreds. The realization—coming hard on the heels of her mistaking him from Carson—sent him stalking to the other side of the work space and slumping down in a chair.

      “Oh, no.” The woman held her head in her hands. And she didn’t even know the worst of it yet.

      “Maybe you’d better have a seat.” He used his boot to shove a second chair out from under the long, makeshift conference table that was a holdover from the retail store that had occupied the building long ago. “And tell me your name, for starters.”

      He’d had unprotected sex with a total stranger.

      And while, yes, he’d started out wanting an adventure, he hadn’t expected things to go so far. Especially not with a woman who had mistaken him for his twin.

      “I’m Jillian.” She lifted her chin and picked up her bag before joining him at the table. She dropped into the utilitarian chair he’d offered her, her red curls drooping as much as her shoulders. “Jillian Ross.”

      The name sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place it.

      “Well, Jillian Ross, we’ve got bigger problems on our hands than you mistaking me for my younger twin brother.”

      “A twin.” She repeated the word, shaking her head like she’d never heard of such a thing.

      Cody steeled himself against the surprise kick to his ego and shared his more pressing concern.

      “Correct.” He heard his clipped tone and couldn’t help it. “But right now, I’d like to direct your attention to the fact that the condom broke.”

      Her head snapped up, green eyes flashing even in the dim light.

      “Excuse me?”

      “Equipment malfunction,” he explained, trying to keep frustration out of his voice. “Maybe the condom was past the expiration date?”

      “No.” She shook her head and then straightened her spine, seeming to recover herself a little bit. “I’m sure that’s not the case, but it doesn’t matter, since I’m disease-free, like I told you.” She pulled in a quick breath and tipped her chin up. “And as for the other concern, there’s a high percent chance that I’m...” She closed her eyes for a moment, as if gathering strength. Or patience. When she opened them again, there was a glitter in her gaze. A hint of emotion he couldn’t fathom. “I’m most likely infertile.”

      He hadn’t expected that. He ran a hand through his hair, his brain buzzing with unanswered questions. Questions he wasn’t sure he should ask.

      Then again, they’d taken a big risk tonight. He needed to know.

      “How high a percentage?” He leaned on the conference table, only just now realizing he wore no shirt. He’d been so distracted he forgot to retrieve the only clothing they’d discarded before having sex. He spotted his T-shirt in a heap on the floor. “And how can you be sure?”

      “I’m not comfortable divulging all my unhappy health history.” Her words were clipped, possibly angry. “But I’m sure.”

      “I’m sorry for that. But you have to admit there’s a lot at stake here.”

      “No.” She shook her head. “There probably isn’t.”

      Her shoulders were ramrod straight. It was a defensive posture. He told himself not to pursue the subject now. Not to push when emotions were already running high.

      But then some of the tension seemed to seep back out of her. A sigh slipped from her lips.

      “I’ve

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