Challenge (Harris Brothers, #1)

by Amy Daws

Having a twin in general is a royal pain in the arse. Having him on the same team is like a bad case of haemorrhoids. Having him playing the same position is like a jagged butt plug rammed in at the wrong angle.

When are you going to find Penis Number One already?” she asks, her tone approaching shrill. “He shouldn’t be the Holy Grail of cocks for God’s sake.

Rather than God answering my virginal prayer with a player, the devil answered it with four.

I still don’t want to stop. I can’t stop. Some dormant inner sex kitten has awakened inside of me and completely taken over my body. I’m now being commanded by my vagina and that duplicitous brain of mine is on a holiday in Yorkshire for all I know.

God, does it feel good. And bad. And oh, so right. He’s consuming me as if I’m Christmas dinner and he hasn’t eaten in months. I nearly squeal with excitement when his right hand drops to my towel-covered arse and palms it decadently. He pulls me snuggly against his crotch. Against his erection. It’s in that one pump of his hips that I realise with a thunderous thud of my heart that the playboy flirt who kissed me when he came into Patch Alley yesterday is gone. Instead, he is replaced by a sinfully arousing and totally mind-blowing conqueror that is Camden Harris. And I am screwed.

I couldn’t stop myself. It was erratic and messy and wet, but my dick cheered when I pulled back and her lips were swollen and her eyes were filled with lust. It was either kissing her or peeing on her so every guy knew to back the fuck off. Indie Porter belongs to Camden Harris. For the next five days that is.

And then…and then…when she clutches me to her…trembling and thanking me for giving this to her… I’m drowning. I’m drowning in deep, dark, delirious destiny. I’m in a place I never want to leave. A place I never want to say goodbye to. A place I never want to let go. Just sinking further and further into a world I’ve never known.

I scoff, “Relax, Specs. You’ll have plenty of time to shag other blokes when I’m gone.” For some bizarre reason, the notion feels like razors in my stomach as it tumbles out of my mouth.

When I finally allow myself to come apart from his words and his touch, I throb everywhere. My body trembles from head to toe. The ache in my chest is so strong it feels as if it could arrest at any second. Then, just when I think things can’t get any worse—when I’m certain I can’t possibly feel anything more—he lies down beside me, pulls me into his arms, and softly whispers into my ear, “Thou art mine.”

“Indie, I hurt you because I was angry. But you hurt me because you don’t care enough. One is certainly worse than the other.”

I want to chase after her. I want to say more. I want to show her my heart again, but I don’t…because I’ve already said too much. None of it will matter anyway. She stumbles back over to the picnic table, grabs a confused Belle’s hand, and drags her toward the door and out of my heart. For good this time.