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His Best Friend’s Little Sister
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His best friend’s little sister is about to get something… BIG.
Henry Wyatt is big all over, ripped as sin, and fresh out of the Navy SEALs. When he decides to go to his best friend’s cabin for some downtime, the last thing he expects is to run into her, naked and tempting him in ways he never could have imagined.
Ellie’s his best friend’s little sister and he’s never seen her like that. Little Ellie is all grown up, with a body that begs to be touched.
There’s no way Henry should be looking at her like that, or thinking about how her body would sway just so if he turned her over and took her from behind. She’s almost ten years younger than him, and besides that, she’s Eliah’s little sister.
She’s off limits. Period. Until Ellie reveals that she’s never been with a man before, and suddenly all Henry can think about is being her first. Hell, he’d be the last man she was ever with, too… But Ellie has her own set of reasons why that could never happen.
When Henry sets his mind to something though, there’s no stopping him… and little Ellie doesn’t stand a chance.
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Six years ago
“You’ve had this before?”
Ellie rolled her eyes at the boy playing bartender—one of the generic ones with the forgettable names. When she was twelve, he’d been the one who asked how the “training” was going as the whole group laughed at her newly donned bra with the wide white straps slipping down her arms. Her brother, Eli, had flushed a dangerous scarlet and told them to leave her alone. He’d never liked her snatching attention from his friends, even unintentionally.
“Of course,” she told the no-name boy, taking the glass tumbler fizzing with a concoction she could already tell was too sweet. “Do you think this is my first party or something?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged, trying to force the wrong cap onto the bottle. “You’re a kid. How do I know what they’re teaching in school these days?”
“I’m sixteen,” she said.
“That’s what I said.” He winked at her, a practiced one. “But then again, you seem to know what you’re doing with that mouth of yours.”
“Whatever.” She turned away, flipping her long auburn hair that was finally long enough to kiss the small of her back. Resisting the urge to pull down the hem of the minidress borrowed from a childhood friend, she practiced sipping the effervescence without making a face. Whoever lived here, in this townhome with little touches of elegance from the wainscoting in the entryway to the quartz countertops in the kitchen, they knew how to set the mood. Dim lights, and a decent sound system with a carefully curated playlist on a tablet provided the perfect atmosphere.
This was a party. A real, grownup party, the kind of thing she only had to wait two more years for until she could fully dive in herself. There was some kind of magic in these parties, but a restlessness, too. Everyone was just trying so hard, lubricating their insecurities with liquor paid for with student loans. Ellie wanted something more, even as the pinkish liquid swam its way into her head.
And then she saw him.
She could have spotted him rooms away. The way he held himself, broad shoulders riding on a crafted chest, clear even through the button-up. How he ran his hands through dirty blond hair that darkened just a touch each year. They were a man’s hands, not a boy’s, with thick and bronzed fingers and the right amount of roughness that told the world he knew how to use them.
“Henry!” she called, a part of her noticing her voice was too loud. “Hey, Henry!” She couldn’t quiet herself. Her legs, slim but defined from years on the track team, ushered her over to him seemingly on their own.
“Oh, Ellie,” he said, turning away from the stunning woman he’d been talking to. “How, uh, how are you?” he asked, his eyes wide. He looked at her like she was a stranger. One he couldn’t take his eyes off.
“I’m good!” she said, pulling a curtain of hair over her shoulder. “When… when did you get back? Eli didn’t say anything about you being back. Are you—”
“Only last week,” he said. “I’m just on leave. I haven’t had time to catch up with everyone yet. But I did text your brothers. Eli’s the one who told me about the party.”
Damnit, Eli. You could have told me. “Oh! He didn’t say anything to me. It’s so good to see you! Don’t I get a hug?” Thank goodness for liquid courage.
As Henry reached down to embrace her, the room slowed. Even in her four-inch heels, he had to bend down to reach her. Was it just her? Or was the entire world halting? She felt the heat of his forearm on her back, the knot of his rolled-up sleeves pressed against the swell of her hips, and the way his face fit into the hollow of her neck without hesitation. From his breath on her neck to the pleasing scratch of stubble against her own soft cheeks, the entirety of the moment was ablaze.
As he pulled away, her fingers clutched onto his arm a little too long. Did he feel it? It was palpable. Embarrassed by the heat between her legs and what she was sure the redness of her face betrayed, Ellie tucked a thick lock behind her ear. She was grateful to be holding the drink in her other hand. Stop touching your hair! You look nervous.
Henry backed away from her, obviously scrambling for composure. “This is Ellie, Eli’s sister,” Henry said to the towering goddess beside him. “Ellie, this is—I’m sorry. What was your name?”
“Right,” the deity said, doe eyes darting between Ellie and Henry. “I’m going to refresh my drink,” she said, starting to turn. “Are you coming, Henry?”
“Yeah, yeah. See you, Ellie,” he said, following the gazelle into the kitchen.
“Hey! Champagne? It’s getting posh in here.” Oh, the bartender again. At least this time he was serving a purpose—literally.