1. Travis

ONE

Four Years Earlier

"I NOW PRONOUNCE you husband and wife."

The crowd of hundreds gathered in the Grand Ballroom at New York's prestigious Plaza Hotel broke into thunderous applause as my mom, celebrated actress Vera McKinney, kissed her man, also known as her second husband and Wall Street executive Richard Reeves.

From beside his dad, serving as best man, Caleb Reeves grinned at the happy couple, and when he looked past my mom to where I stood next to her—also as best man, because this was no maid-of-honor shit—his smile widened.

This night had been a long time coming, three years of all four of us playing house together, and now it was finally official. Caleb wasn't just my best friend anymore—he was my stepbrother.

I shot him a wink just as Mom turned around, leaning in to kiss my cheek.

"Congratulations," I said, handing her the extravagant bouquet I'd been in charge of during the ceremony. The trim went well with my tuxedo, a black and gold damask couture number, so I hadn't minded the accessory, even if Caleb hadn't held one. As it was, he'd gone with a classic black tux, so it looked better with me anyway.

Applause continued as I joined Caleb to follow after our parents down the aisle.

"Well, well, well," I said, smirking. "Looks like you can't get rid of me now."

"Oh shit. No takebacks?"

"Nope."

"Huh. Guess you're stuck with me too, then, stepbrother." Grinning like a fiend, he threw his arm around my shoulders, and I did the same as we headed past all the guests, which included several of our friends making lewd gestures like idiots. I'd made sure they were on the guest list, but it looked like they'd all been dipping into the flasks I saw them filling up while we were getting ready. The reception would have an open bar, but my mom wouldn't be too keen on a bunch of teenagers getting smashed.

Sooo we'd have to do it privately.

"Nice bouquet," I heard one of them—probably West—say.

"Don't do it," Caleb said.

"Do what?"

"Flip him off." He nodded down at where I'd already started to lift my hand. "We're still being filmed."

"I think our parents would be more surprised if I didn't flip someone off at least twice tonight."

"You have a point, but…" He knocked my hand away, and I let out an exaggerated sigh.

"Fiiine. But if you think I'm behaving all night?—"

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"Good. Because I think our friends back there might make a scene on the dance floor."

"Let's hope so." When I raised a brow, he shrugged. "Someone's gotta get these uptight richies to have a good time."

I gasped. "Caleb Reeves. Are you encouraging debauchery?"

As we made it to the end of the aisle and into the foyer, he turned toward me, a wicked twinkle in his eyes.

"Looks like you've been rubbing off on me, McKinney."

"WHAT THE HELL are you trying to do? The robot?" I screwed up my nose at the picture Caleb was making on the dance floor. At some point he'd lost his jacket and his tie, and several of the buttons on his shirt were undone.

"Isn't it obvious?" he said, repeating whatever that move was, and I snorted out a laugh.

"You look like a ninety-year-old trying to put his jacket on."

Caleb stopped moving and blew the brown waves that had escaped their slicked-back 'do off his forehead. "How else are you going to dance to this song?"

"You seriously calling that dancing?"

He laughed and pointed to my arms. "At least I don't look like someone being electrocuted."

"I'm freestyling." My arms jolted in a wave from the tips of my left fingers across my shoulders to the right.

"That what they call it?"

I shoved Caleb in the arm, laughing. "Yeah, you should try it sometime."

"I'd need some alcohol for that."

"Did someone say alcohol?"

I swung around to see one of our good friends—or I should say my good friend, since Caleb couldn't stand him—East, with a smirk plastered on his smug lips.

"Caleb." I grinned at the way my new stepbrother was glaring at East's interrupting. "But we both know he hasn't got any."

"I can fix that."

"Yeah?"

"Of course." The snobbish tone was pure East as his eyes flicked back to Caleb. "He needs all the help he can get."

Caleb rolled his eyes and grabbed at my arm as East walked off the dance floor. "You're not seriously going to get drunk tonight, are you?"

"Not drunk. Just a little happy. It'll help loosen up the limbs. Plus, you know Mom and Dick don't care if we have the occasional drink now and then."

Caleb scanned the room, his conscience much louder than mine. But before he could think too hard about it, I grabbed his hand and tugged him off the dance floor.

"Come on, it'll be fun."

"Okay, but just one."

"Yes, Dad."

We laughed as we followed after East, weaving our way through the crowded tables and behind one of the huge pillars to where the doors opened out into a side hall. That was where we found the rest of our crew waiting on us.

There were six of us in total.Preston, who was Mr. Preppy, with his perfectly pressed tuxedo and straight-as-a-pin bow tie, whose father was a state Senator. Donovan, our resident pretty boy, who had a perfect face and smile and would probably end up being a famous model one day like his mom. Then there were the troublemakers, East and West, best friends from two of the richest families in Manhattan. The Eastons owned half the real estate in the city, and West's father was one of the biggest hotel magnates in the world.

Our parents were all part of New York's high society, and as their children we tended to get away with just about everything.

Including a few drinks at our parents' wedding.

The guy's faces lit up when they saw us, a couple of them coming over to clap us on the shoulders as West held up a bottle of Don Julio and waggled his brows.

"Ready to celebrate?"

"Shots?" Caleb groaned. "Oh God."

"You had to pick tequila," I said, shaking my head. "Don't you remember what happened the last time Caleb drank tequila?"

"Yeah, he had fun." West started laughing as he took a swig and passed the bottle to Preston.

"I can have fun without tequila," Caleb complained as the bottle made its way around to me.

"But would you have skinny-dipped in the Waldorf's pool without it?"

"Hey, we all swore not to talk about that ever again after West's dad erased the tape."

"You might've." East grinned. "But how do you know that was the only copy?"

Caleb narrowed his eyes, but before he could say anything, I shoved the bottle at him. "Drink up. If anything, it'll help you put up with him."

Caleb chuckled, his easygoing smile coming back full force as he brought the tequila to his lips and took a gulp, wincing as the fiery liquid made a path down his throat.

As the bottle made its way around the group a second time, everyone was joking a little more until it finally came back to me and Caleb.

That was when Donovan held up his hands for us to wait, then said, "To Vera and Richard finally tying the knot, and to the two of you, who will finally understand just how annoying it can be to have a brother."

Caleb and I looked at each other and immediately laughed, because we'd been living with each other for years now, been best friends for all of them. This wedding would change nothing, and neither would the title.

Donovan was delusional. I couldn't think of anyone I'd rather be stepbrothers with, and hell if we didn't have a couple more drinks to celebrate that.

"OH NO YOU don't." Caleb grabbed the back of my untucked shirt as I attempted to climb the stairs that led up to my bedroom in our parents' penthouse. "You're veering a little too far to the right for that to be a safe choice right now."

"Maybe it's you with the wonky vision. I'm tobally—" The word felt wrong on my tongue. "Totomally. Shit."

"Totally fine?" Caleb laughed. "Yeah, you sound like it."

I kicked one dress shoe off and it went flying straight at his head, but his reflexes were quick and he ducked out of the way just in time.

"Dude. Trying to kill me already? I don't think that'll mean more in your trust."

A snort-laugh escaped me. "Whoopsss." I toed off the other one and added it to the pile before following Caleb into the family room. It wasn't easy not to look at him when I was sober, let alone after tequila shots. I knew I shouldn't, but hell, looking wasn't hurting anyone, and it wasn't like he knew.

The front tails of his shirt were pulled out, but the back was somehow still tucked in, showing off the curves of his ass in those tailored pants he should really wear more often. We were about the same height, but his build made his shoulders seem broader. He wasn't a sporty kind of guy—me either, for that matter—but years of carrying his camera equipment and holding position for hours had given him powerful arms…and hands, but I wasn't thinking about that. Much.

Ugh. It was his fault he was so good looking it was almost painful, but then he had to go and be the most kickass person I knew. When we'd first met, I wanted to hate him, but then he flashed that easygoing smile and I figured…it wouldn't hurt to have a hot best friend.

Best friend and now stepbrother. It wasn't enough he had to be straight, now the universe was all, "Haha, fuck you, Travis, now you really can't have him."

So I looked, but I'd never touch.

His dress socks must've been as slippery on the marble floor as mine, so when he started sliding toward the couch like an ice skater, I realized he was onto something. Much easier and less likely to fall on my ass. At least one of us was thinking smart.

"I feel like Tom Cruise in Risky Business," he said, sliding sideways and almost knocking into the wall.

I shook my head. "Nah. You'd have to lose your pants first."

His forehead wrinkled, like he was replaying the scene in his mind, and then he chuckled. "Oh yeah."

Before I could ask, "Who's drunk now?" Caleb was undoing his pants and kicking them across the room.

What…the fuck?

All I could do was stand there staring and wonder if somehow I'd actually passed out and was dreaming this.

"Wh—what are you doing?" I said.

"Duh. I can't Risky Business in pants." To prove his point, he skated behind the wall and then slid sideways across the floor several feet. "Hah. Beat that."

Somehow through the haze of alcohol I snapped my focus back to Caleb's face and away from the fact that he was in his boxer briefs. "You want to challenge me? Are you sure?"

Caleb kicked his chin up. "I'm not scared of you."

"You should be."

"I'm not. Especially when you lose those."

Shit, he wanted me out of my pants too? Did he hear himself right now?

I wasn't about to complain, so I tore off my pants and tossed them up in the air with a flick of my wrist.

Tequila really did make Caleb fun.

"Just remember you asked for this," I said, sliding across the room to join him. My dick had already started to perk up a little watching Caleb's hot ass, but at least the tails of my shirt hung low enough to cover it. Then again, I wasn't exactly shy about my sexuality. I liked sex, and a lot of it, and everyone knew I was weak for a gorgeous guy.

But this was Caleb. He didn't need to know I was packing a semi for him.

"I made it to here." He toed an imaginary line over the spot he'd landed before backing away to watch me.

"You're making it too easy," I taunted him, moving behind the wall and readying myself.

"One, two?—"

I propelled myself before he hit three, gliding several feet before shit turned sideways and I stacked it. My arms windmilled as I tried to catch myself, but I slammed into Caleb anyway, knocking him on his ass.

We tumbled down on top of Mom's Persian rug—the one that cost more than most houses—and laughed like two lunatics, the alcohol dulling the pain we'd no doubt feel tomorrow as we rolled to our backs.

"Idiot." Caleb shoved me in the shoulder. "You were supposed to wait till I counted to three."

"'Cause that would've stopped me from running into your ass."

"Well, you didn't run into my ass. Let's not get carried away."

If only my cock would get that message. But with us flat on our backs now, arms and legs touching, it was nearly exploding in excitement. I needed to think about something else, anything else, other than the fact that Caleb was lying beside me in nothing more than a shirt and boxer briefs.

"You think we'll still do stupid shit like this when we go away to college?"

Caleb snorted. "Random much?"

It was, but I needed to get my mind off him and onto something other than his dick. So college it was.

"Just answer the question."

"Will we slide around our apartment like Tom Cruise?"

I turned my head to look at him, a grin on my face. "Our apartment?"

"Well, yeah, we're gonna be roomies, right? Parents said they'd pay for a place."

They had said that, but I wasn't sure Caleb would be down for it, considering the way I planned to run wild once we were free. He was a quieter soul than I was—except when he drank tequila—but if he would have me, then I planned to take him up on the offer.

"Duh." I looked ahead, out the floor-to-ceiling windows that had a stunning view of Central Park. "You think it'll be some place like this?"

"A penthouse?"

I looked back to see Caleb's wide eyes. "I mean, maybe not a penthouse, but Mom and Dick aren't gonna make us stay in the dorms."

A low chuckle that made my stomach flip and my cock throb vibrated out of Caleb.

"You're such a snob."

"Am not."

Caleb raised a brow, then did his best imitation of me. "Mom and Dick won't make us stay at a dorm… Do you know how many people would kill to get a room at Astor?"

"Yeah." I screwed my nose up. "But we're not just people."

"See, you're a snob."

I rolled to my side and propped my head up on my hand. "It's not snobbish, it's realistic. You just don't like to admit it."

"Shut up. I'm not a snob."

"I'm sorry," I said, looking around the enormous room. "Do you not live here? In a penthouse on Park Avenue?"

"You know what I mean." Caleb turned to look up at me, and Jesus, his face was so close to mine in this position. His eyes tracked over my features as though he were searching my expression to make sure I understood what he was telling me. But I was too blinded by how fucking gorgeous he was to get the message.

"I don't belong here," he continued, no doubt meaning the penthouse, but if he knew where my brain had detoured, he'd definitely be talking about lying so close to me.

His stepbrother. Who was hard as a steel pipe for him.

"I always saw myself more in Soho or Chelsea, you know, the arty areas."

"Right." I blinked, trying to get my brain to focus on something other than how full his lips were and the way he kept licking them. "I could see that."

"Yeah?"

"Sure."

"Would you ever think about living there?"

"In Soho?"

"Yes." Caleb started to laugh. "With me. Are you even listening to me?"

"I am, but…"

He cocked his head to the side, his grin widening. "The tequila's caught up to you, hasn't it?"

"Maybe." My voice was quiet as I ran my gaze over the flush of his cheeks and where it trailed down his neck into the collar of his shirt.

"Travis?"

"Huh?"

"You okay?"

No, I fucking wasn't. I was about two seconds away from doing something really stupid, but before I could move away, Caleb reached up and put a hand to my forehead, and I froze.

Fuck.

"You're burning up."

Yeah, for you… The words were on the tip of my tongue, dying to roll off, but then he trailed his fingers down to my cheek.

"Do you feel okay? Do you think you had too much to drink?"

I knew I'd had too much to drink, because the thoughts swirling through my head were ones I'd been squashing for months, and now they were taking control—of my mind, body, and dick.

Words got stuck in my throat as I reached up, planning on pushing his hand away because his fingers were still on my face. Once I had a hold of his wrist, though, I couldn't let go. His pulse was steady beneath my thumb, but the longer I stared up at him and he stared back, the faster it seemed to get.

Maybe it was my imagination. Maybe it was the deep, dark hope I kept tucked away that was somehow creeping out now. But there was no denying the way the crease between his brows eased, his worry over my wellbeing subtly changing into something I'd never seen in his expression before.

As his dark brown eyes searched mine, I struggled to breathe, but not too deep, or else I'd move and the bubble would burst.

Caleb wasn't moving either. He was so still. Was he waiting for something? Why was he looking at me like that? He had to stop. But if he looked away, he'd notice that my dick was making my reaction obvious.

"Travis?" His voice was barely a whisper, but he was so close that his breath warmed my lips.

Without thinking, I licked along my lower one, like I could taste some part of him that way, and his eyes dropped to the move.

And didn't look away.

Oh God. He was seriously testing my self-control right now. It wouldn't have mattered if I was stone-cold sober—the fact that I could feel his cock jerk against my hip meant he was turned on, and I was the one making that happen.

When his eyes met mine again, his pupils blown and heavy with what I could only read as desire, I slammed the door on every rational thought, every voice in my head screaming at me not to take this further.

Still holding his wrist, I inched it down slowly so that his fingers trailed over the curve of my jaw and down my neck. I didn't take my eyes off him, watching for any small movement, any change to indicate I was taking this too far.

The second I moved his palm onto my chest, I knew he had to feel the way my heart was beating so fast and hard I thought I might pass out.

Don't do it. Don't make a move. You can't. It'll ruin everything.

I thought I'd locked the door on all the logical thoughts smacking me upside the head, but they were back and they were making sense now. This was a terrible idea, even though nothing felt more perfect than our hands on each other.

As luck would have it, just as I started to pull away, a lock of brown hair fell across Caleb's forehead, blocking his eyes from mine. Instinctively, I reached up, threading my fingers through it and pushing it back from his gorgeous face so I could see all of him.

Caleb sucked in a breath, and I froze for all of two seconds before I tightened my grip in his hair and lifted myself up to close the distance between our mouths.

And then…I kissed him.

Lips, soft and full, just as I'd always imagined them, pressed against mine in a way I'd only ever fantasized about. But in every one of those daydreams they'd quickly been snatched away from me. Not this time, though, and that's how knew it was different. That it was real.

Caleb's lips parted under mine, a soft gasp of surprise at first that soon changed to a groan of pleasure as his fingers curled around my shirt. I had no idea how long this would last, so like a thief trespassing, I boldly stole what I could before I was caught and hauled away.

I slipped my tongue inside his mouth, tasting the tequila we'd drunk way too much of tonight, and Caleb thrust his hips forward, his erection coming into direct contact with mine.

A strangled sound escaped me, the pleasure and pain of finally having him so close almost too much to stand, as I scooted even closer, widening my legs for him to slip his in between.

What the hell was happening right now?

I knew it was real—I could feel it in every beat of my heart, every throb of my dick. But this was Caleb.

Caleb kissing me.

Caleb touching me.

Caleb rubbing his cock up against me.

"Caleb…" I tore my lips from his, the blood ringing in my ears making it difficult to think as I trailed my fingers down his cheek to his mouth, touching his swollen lips. Lips swollen from mine. I couldn't believe it. I'd waited so long for this moment, years. And now here it was. Here he was. Looking at me like he wanted me to do it all again.

So I did.

I crushed our lips together, his groan becoming my own as I trailed my hands down his dress shirt, memorizing the feel of his body. My fingers found the final button, and I slipped it free. When he didn't stop me or pull away, I unbuttoned a few more.

I needed to touch his skin. I needed to feel it beneath my hands. I brushed my fingers down the trail of hair leading into his boxer briefs, and Caleb's hips jutted up against mine. The blood rushing around my head seemed to drown out all common sense as I slipped my fingers under the waistband of his briefs and teased the warm skin there.

Would he tell me to stop now? I kept waiting for him to grab my hand and put an end to it all. What was happening was too good to be true. But when he took hold of my face and licked deeper into my mouth, I didn't hold back.

The second I slid my fingers down over his cock and felt how long, thick, and hard he was, there was no way I was letting him go without seeing him come. I wrapped my hand around him, giving a nice, slow pull, and his moan into my mouth was pure sex.

The sound spurred me on, somehow ramping up my need. His briefs were too constricting at this angle, and I shoved them down, freeing his erection. I ripped my mouth away to look at him, at the flush of his dick and the way his plump head glistened.

God, he was so fucking hot, even better than all the fantasies I'd had over the years.

I dove back into his waiting mouth and pushed my own boxer briefs down before taking him back in my hand. His pre-cum made it a slick slide that had him gasping against my lips and sucking on my tongue.

Hell fucking yes. Had anything ever felt this good? The answer to that was a resounding no, as it played on repeat in time with my own throbbing cock. I wanted to make this last forever, to linger over every sound, touch, and movement he made, but the likelihood of that happening was about as thin as the boxer briefs I'd just shoved off us both.

We were too young, too horny, and too fucking turned on to draw this out, and I needed to rub up on him something fierce.

I loosened my grip just enough that I could take hold of the both of us, and as soon as my hard length came into contact with his, he trembled.

We were so close now, my pre-cum mixing with his and making a sticky mess between the two of us, but none of that mattered. We were connected from head to toe in a tangle of tongues, cocks, and legs.

He hooked a leg over the top of mine and pulled me in close, needing the friction, craving it now that his body was seconds away from detonation. I tightened my hand, increasing the pressure as we pushed through the hole I'd made just for us.

"Caleb…" I panted, his name the only word that had been spoken between us since this started. But his gasps and heavy breathing were all I needed to know that he was right there with me. That we were about to jump off this cliff together, and damn the consequences.

My strokes became more frenzied then, my fist pumping up and down our lengths like a piston as he jammed his dick up against mine. I could feel my climax threatening now, could hear that Caleb's was too, and several rough strokes later his body stiffened and his cock jerked against mine. Then he ripped his mouth from my lips and shouted my name, and the sound of it in that raspy, guttural tone, the hot, pulsing jets of his cum on my hand, had my orgasm slamming into me.

I squeezed my hand and eyes shut and exploded in a torrent all over him, and as I milked every last drop from the two of us, I'd never felt happier in my entire life.

A wave of immense satisfaction crashed over me as my breathing slowed and my dick calmed. I released the two of us and opened my eyes, wanting to see the gorgeous guy I'd finally been given permission to kiss.

Caleb blinked his beautiful eyes at me as though seeing me for the first time as I unclenched his fingers from my shirt and began to draw it down my body. I wanted him to know that I was with him, feeling all the things he was. But the second his hand bumped into my erection, bumped into his own, there was a flash of…horror in his eyes.

The next thing I knew, he snatched his hand back, and moved to his feet, glaring down at me.

"Caleb—" My words halted as he took a step back, shaking his head, reaching for his shirt tails and pulling them over himself as though they would somehow erase the evidence behind them. But it was too late. I'd already memorized it.

His eyes flew to my spent dick, and as the realization of what he'd—we'd—just done began to sink in, he started to back away, almost tripping over the coffee table behind him.

I knew I needed to say something, needed to reassure him that everything was okay, this didn't have to change anything. But before I could get another word out, he turned on his heel and bolted from the room.

Fuck. Fuuuck.

I was such an idiot. Such a goddamn fool to let this happen. I'd known Caleb didn't feel that way about me, and still I'd pushed. What had I been hoping for? That one orgasm from me and he'd suddenly realize I was what he wanted? He was straight, for fuck's sake, and he'd never given any indication otherwise?—

Bang.

The sound of a door slamming somewhere in the penthouse jolted me up off my ass, and I grabbed up my pants, shoving my legs into each side. There was no way I was waiting around for a post-game showdown. It was clear any and all fun we'd been having tonight was now over.

Caleb didn't want this.

Didn't want me.

He'd made that pretty obvious by his disappearing act, and I wasn't about to go up to bed in the room next to his and lie there all night thinking about the look of disgust I'd just seen in his eyes. No way.

I stepped out into the hall and looked up the stairs to where our rooms were located. The silence was so loud it was almost deafening as I grabbed my keys and wallet and headed for the front door.

I needed to get out of there, needed space to breathe. It felt as though my world had just imploded on itself. In the blink of an eye I'd gone from gaining a stepbrother to losing my best friend, and I didn't know how to take back what I'd just done.

He'd never look at me the same way. We'd never be the same again.