1

Lexi was three drinks deep and had danced with as many boys. She felt the fire of alcohol and passion burning through her, but ... no spark whatsoever, not for those partners.

With a sigh, she broke away from the club’s dancefloor and flopped down on the couch next to her friend May. “These fuckboys just aren’t doing it for me.”

May laughed. “Lexi, I’ve seen you hook up with fuckboys a dozen times!”

Lexi giggled with her, rolling her eyes. “Well yeah, but I’m not in the mood for them tonight.” She adjusted her stance, settling into a more come-hither pose. She could still ‘advertise’ while sorting through her thoughts, and her outfit for the night was absolutely an advertisement.

She’d used simple, classic makeup: a light, smooth foundation, deep blue shadow over her lighter blue eyes, and the kind of vivid red lipstick that made lovely marks. Her blonde hair was up in a high ponytail, keeping it away to expose her delicate throat, her collarbones, and her cleavage. So much cleavage: Lexi was a fit, busty woman with plenty to show, and her dress left almost nothing to the imagination. Sparkly, golden fabric with a low neckline, open sides, a daringly high hem, and a tight fit over the little it did cover.

In a dress like that, Lexi could hook damn near anyone she wanted. The problem was figuring out what she wanted or who could give it to her.

“I want a man,” she mused aloud. “Not a fuckboy, a man. Someone mature.” The more she spoke, the more her ideal image took shape. “Not someone who comes to the club in a business suit because he’s a tryhard, but because they genuinely suit him. Someone with a few years on me, but still fit. You know the type.”

“Oh, I know the type.” May wasn’t looking at Lexi anymore, but grinning as her gaze pointed out into the club. “Man of your dreams, eight o’clock.”

Lexi twisted, making sure the pose showed off her profile, and immediately saw the man May meant.

He was over six feet tall, and not body-builder bulky, but the kind of fit that came from looking after himself for its own sake. Wingtip shoes, fitted slacks, and a button shirt with a solid-blue, silk tie. No jacket; instead, his sleeves were rolled up to show his strong forearms and black leather gloves. Black leather gloves. How would they feel against her skin?

Then her eyes finally reached his face, and she realised she’d been ogling her older brother Dexter.

The realisation froze her, her eyes locked on that familiar face. Eventually, his scanning around the club turned in her direction, and her dress did its job: it caught his attention. His eyes went wide as he took in her barely-covered curves, attraction glowing in his face. But eventually, his gaze rose higher. Blue eyes, just like hers, met her gaze.

She saw the same stunned understanding reflected back at her. He gave her an apologetic smile, awkward yet charming. They’d pretend they hadn’t seen each other, and that would be the end of it.

Then May, bless her and curse her, smiled and waved at him. Dexter was far too polite to snub an invitation like that. Once he was in conversation range, he said, “I don’t have a line or anything, but I have to say: you both look amazing.”

May grinned. “Thank you, handsome. I could tell you found Lexi here especially stunning.” She nudged Lexi, gave her a wink, then hopped to her feet. “Hate to flirt and leave, but the dancefloor is calling my name.” She glided away.

Leaving the two siblings alone in awkward silence. She couldn’t have known the handsome stranger was Lexi’s brother, but that was still the situation they landed in. Lexi sat in silence, fidgeting with her necklace, and tried not to stare at his gloves.

Eventually, Dexter broke the silence. “I’m going to grab a drink. You want anything?”

“Oh, God yes.” Alcohol sounded perfect.

Soon, they were back on the couch and some social lubrication made it easier to talk. “So what brings you out here?” she asked, tucking a loose lock of hair behind her ear. “Clubs like this are my bread and butter, but it’s never really been your scene.”

He grinned at her, shy and sheepish. “Trying to find a hook-up, honestly.”

“Really now?” She scooted closer. “Never thought I’d see the day. Did something happen?”

“Well, sort of.” He fished out his phone. “I got this thing — some good news from my doctor.” He emphasised those words, heading off the panic that would normally come with medical news. He handed her the phone. “Go ahead and scroll down.”

It was a medical report. Sperm count zero. Negative for HIV, herpes, any other STI she could name, and many others she’d never heard of.

The document was dry and technical, but what it meant left her breathless, her head spinning. “It’s basically a clean bill of bareback.” Fuck, how could she find a man like that? One who wasn’t her brother?

Dexter laughed, his cheeks flushing. “Yeah, that’s the theory at least.”

She handed his phone back, her cheeks just as bright. “I didn’t even know you’d had a vasectomy.”

“Months back,” he said. “You know me, I’ve never wanted kids anyway. So it just seems like the responsible thing to do. Taking the bullets out of the gun instead of expecting my partners to wear bulletproof vests.” He sighed. “Hypothetical partners, anyway. I haven’t even had a date for over a year now. I thought I’d try things your way, you always make it sound so easy.”

“I make myself sound easy.” She grinned. She’d never been ashamed of who she was, and Dexter had never judged or shamed her for it either. Her brother and her favourite pastime had just been ... different sections of her life.

He rolled his eyes and poked the tip of her nose. “Point is, I’m all dressed up and nowhere to go. I’ve been striking out all night. Can’t even get a dance.”

“Whaaat. No way.” She knocked back the rest of her drink and set down her empty glass. “That, I can fix for you right now. Come on, let’s show these girls what they’re missing.” She grabbed him by the tie.

He laughed, hurrying along so she wouldn’t choke him with it. “Alright, no need to pull my arm. I haven’t done this for a while, so be nice to me, got it?” Though he teased, he was grinning.

She glided among the press of bodies on the dancefloor, moving with the ease of familiarity. With the crowd keeping them close, she turned to face Dexter. This near the speakers, there was no talking. She just smiled and danced, swaying her hips to the beat.

And in return, Dexter just kind of ... shuffled. It felt so strange, her big brother being the less experienced one for once. She guided him, at first just by dancing in front of him. Then she stretched up, putting her hands on his shoulders, so he could feel the beat through her touch and her movements. It felt nice to have to reach up like that, to meet his masculine height. She liked tall guys.

Little by little, he got it, moving with better timing and more fluidity. He even came enough out of his shell to return her touch, his hands going to her waist.

Ohh fuck. She was glad the music kept him from hearing her gasp. The sides of her dress were completely open. She felt his touch right on her bare skin. The firm, smooth texture of his leather gloves, combined with the warmth of his hands. As she arched into him, his grip tightened, fingertips sinking into the softness of her skin. The kind of grip that said he could just pick her up and do whatever he wanted. She didn’t feel a spark. She felt a lightning bolt. If those gloves felt that good just on her waist—

No! She couldn’t think about that. She shouldn’t think about that.

Far too soon, or maybe far too late, the song ended. Dexter led her off the dancefloor, his strong, leather-clad hand still on her hip. “That was fun.” Was it just her imagination, or was his voice more breathy? “What now?”

Good question. They could keep dancing, keep toeing the line. They could head to the bar and she could drink until she was ready to make a mistake.

She sighed. No, she should be responsible for once. “I should get out of here.”

Dexter yawned. “Yeah, me too. It’s getting late.”

Catastrophe averted. She nudged his ribs with an elbow, smiling as she grew relaxed again. “Ten is not late, old man.”

“It’s late for anyone over thirty,” he said. “Want to split a cab?”

Lexi’s heart leapt back up into her throat. Catastrophe back on track. “S-Sure.”

2

Somehow, they managed to keep their hands off each other through the whole cab ride. Lexi paid very close attention to his hands the whole way, her eyes almost never leaving his gloves. They’d felt so good...

After what felt like an eternity, the cab came to a stop before Lexi’s apartment building. She stepped out onto the street, stretching as she came to her full height again.

At that point, she could have just ... stopped. Said goodnight, let her brother continue on to his own home.

But she twisted to look over her shoulder, her pose showing her profile just as it had when she’d first caught his eye earlier in the night. “Do you ... want to come up? For ... coffee?” The words felt weird in her mouth. She’d never made that invitation before. When she invited someone up for sex, she was much more direct about it.

But she wasn’t necessarily inviting him up for sex. Caffeine would do him good. He stifled a yawn before he smiled up at her and followed her out of the cab. “I’d love to.”

Soon, they were on the couch in her living room, holding hot mugs of actual coffee. Sip by sip, moment by moment, she sobered up. She wasn’t drunk anymore. But she still wanted to make a mistake. It ached within her. And even indoors, he still wore those gloves. Was he teasing her on purpose? Intentional or not, it was driving her crazy.

When she realised she’d completely stopped paying attention to the conversation, she knew she had to do something. She set down her mug and scooted closer. “Hey, could you do me a favour?”

He blinked at the change in subject, but didn’t shy away. “What’s up?”

“Could you ... feel me up?” Her anxiety spiked when she saw his eyes widen, so she just kept talking. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to! But your gloves are so cool and your hands are really warm and they felt really good on my waist and I haven’t been able to get them out of my head all n—”

He stopped her runaway mouth with a finger to her lips. “You’re serious about this? Not teasing.”

She leaned forward slightly, brushing her lips against his fingertip. “Dex, I have never wanted anything more than I want your hands on my tits right now.”