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Barry stepped closer, grabbed her upper arm and hauled her to her full height. She nearly toppled into him. "What the hell?!"

"Subtle," he spoke directly into her ear. "You're a little snake, aren't you?" His breath was hot against her skin, and the heat seemed to travel through her in a wave, settling between her thighs. "What are you doing with him, Esme? He's a good boy. He's not equipped to handle you."

"What are you, his daddy?" Esme pretended to be angry, because she didn't have the energy to figure out what she was really feeling.

"The girl, her name's Audrey. It'll break her heart."

"It's not my fault he's cheating."

"It is. You're the only one he won't say 'no' to."

"So I guess you're her daddy," Esme swiped her cell phone from the counter and made a move for the door. Why did everyone want to protect this girl? Color was creeping into his face, and she didn't know if he was angry or just hot. It was warm in the apartment, and he was still in his coat.

"No," Barry said, finality lacing his voice. "I'm her brother."

Which maybe tipped the scales from hot to angry. Whether she was trying to reject the information, she couldn't say, but suddenly her concentration was on his coat. It looked new. Dark brown leather with no creasing or other visible signs of wear. He was studying her, but she couldn't read his expression. His eyes, though—she could read his eyes.

His hand was still gripping her arm, his fingers biting into her skin. But it was his eyes that had her heart in her throat. Suddenly she was like a caged animal, skittish and desperate to flee. She'd seen eyes like that, brimming with barely contained rage and, heartbreaking, hurt. Vengeance so combustible the spark, when it did come, ignited a fire so great it had the neighbor's wife shuffling her and her sister out of the house while the neighbor pulled her father away from the door her mother had locked herself behind.

She could hear the shouting from the yard, which is maybe what brought the neighbor's wife running inside the house. And he behind her, relenting to whatever maternal instinct struck her. Fucking whore. They probably hear the screams from inside their own home. Esme winced at the memory.

Barry noticed her discomfort and immediately loosened his grip. He unclenched his jaw and focused on breathing. He could tell Audrey, but what would that do other than hurt her? Or make her doubt Barry and push her further into Ben's arms? He'd known better than to let this happen, known better than to stand by as Audrey went on one date, then more dates, with the boy she'd wanted ever since she was a goofy high school kid pining away for her older brother's best friend.

And maybe he let it happen because he thought Ben might have grown up a little. And maybe it was his fault, for believing anything about Ben might change, especially when it came to Esme. Esme who changed everything just by stepping into the room. And so maybe what needed to be changed was Ben's perception of Esme. Maybe he needed to stop thinking of her as his.

They didn't run in the same circle of friends, so Ben was never witness when she found somebody new. For all he knew, she sat around sulking and alone when they were apart. He most likely never considered the thought of another man's hands on her.

He hadn't released her arm. By the time he realized his hands were on her, realized he wanted to throttle her skinny little neck, the air between them was on fire. He could see life behind Esme's eyes for the first time in a long time. It made him wonder what might have happened between them had Ben not figured out the girl at the gym was his Esme.

She had relaxed a little, had let her gaze wander to the computer, where her eyes had stilled. She seemed to be staring into space, as if lost in thought. She was so close that if she moved toward him by as little as an inch his lips would be on her skin. And she did move toward him. She turned her face toward his and brushed her mouth across his. A strangled noise erupted from his throat, but Barry didn't pull away. He covered her mouth with his own, darting his tongue between her lips and nibbling at her lips. She dug her fingers into the coat over his shoulders as his mouth worked hers.

Later, she wouldn't be able to say exactly how she ended up sitting on the counter, her thighs on either side of him, pressing into his hips as the papers that had littered the countertop now drifted to the floor. She thought she heard at least one glass break, but couldn't bring herself to care as his mouth covered hers and his tongue dove into her mouth hungrily. They didn't stop kissing when he draped an arm around her waist and hefted her onto the counter, and they didn't stop as he shrugged out of his coat, first one arm, then the other, letting it fall in a heap at his feet.

Esme's hands roamed underneath his shirt, and she dragged her nails down the length of his chest until they met at the waistband of his pants and she was working the button loose. She had to abandon the task when he pushed her suddenly inept hands away and did it himself, pushing his boxer briefs down with his pants and repositioning himself between her long, lean legs.

If she'd been wearing panties he'd probably just have pushed them aside, their desire was that intense, but as it was he was inside her within seconds. One smooth stroke and he was buried to the hilt in her pussy. "Oh, God." Barry bit out the words, closing his eyes and savoring the hot, slick slide into her.

She cried out, wrapping her arms around him and digging her nails into his back. Barry held fast, not wanting to move for fear that he'd cum before they even got started. But he was moving soon enough, because her hands were on his ass, pulling him deeper.

"Fuck me," she whispered. "Please fuck me." She pushed him away, and he slid out a few inches. "Barry." Her voice was a plea, but she was remarkably convincing. "Barry, fuck me so hard. Please."

Unable to hold out anymore, Barry complied. He thrust into her almost violently, burying his face against the soft skin of her exposed neck. Her hair was damp, and cooled his forehead. Her hands moved from his ass up his back and her fingers were soon buried in his hair. "Harder," she begged.

"I'm gonna cum." He wasn't sure if he was protesting or not.

"Please, fuck me harder. Don't stop. Your cock feels so good. Does my pussy feel good?"

On the edge of blowing it, Barry stilled his movements. Esme's breathing was ragged. "Don't stop. Please, don't stop. It feels so good when you hammer into me, Barry. Just pound it, Barry. Please, just fuck me. I need it so bad."

Knowing she was doing it on purpose, she was trying to make him cum before he wanted to, didn't make it any easier to pull back. She was begging for it. Literally. And it was all part of some cute little game she was playing, although what her motive was he couldn't say.

"Does my pussy feel good?" Esme asked, snaking her tongue from his throat to his ear. "I'm so fucking wet, Barry. I want it so bad, please just give it to me."

Unable to stop himself he wrapped an arm around her ass and nearly pulled her off the counter so that his body was the only thing keeping her from hitting the ground. He used the leverage to hammer into her, each thrust bringing him closer to release. Esme rolled her hips underneath him, coaxing him into an orgasm. Barry brought a hand between them and found her clit, and though initially she tried unobtrusively redirecting his touch she soon relented. He swept his thumb over and around her clit, using the lubrication from her pussy. He circled her clit, luring her to the edge, before burying his cock in her pussy and finishing her by hand. She came apart in his arms, her pussy convulsing on his rod as she threw her head back.

Feeling her pussy tremble around his cock put him over the edge. His cock throbbed as he came, the head pulsing with each wave of pleasure and stream of cum. She waited until she was sure he was done and then pushed him away. Barry slid out of her slowly, gently, trying to avoid unnecessary friction on his sensitive shaft. As soon as he was free Esme was on her feet and trotting toward the bathroom, presumably to clean up. Barry reached for his jeans, still bunched at his knees, and pulled them up.

When Esme came back out into the living room he was slipping into his coat. He turned to look at her. She'd fixed her hair, maybe splashed some water on her face, but she still looked like she'd just been fucked. It was a good look for her. "It's no good, Esme. Just stay away from him. Just let him be."

Their eyes met, and Barry watched a surge of emotion infuse Esme's expression. His words had reminded her of Ben and Audrey. Audrey was someone's little sister. She was Barry's little sister. It was easier when it was a name on a card. It was different when Audrey was the only reason Barry had fucked her.

Ben hurts Audrey, Barry hurts Ben. Esme gets fucked. Twice.

Esme nodded, all of her resistance floating out of her. She wanted to grasp the air in an effort to keep it in place. She needed something to hold onto. Instead she reached for her keys and let herself out of the apartment.