In Bed with the Enemy
You are having a sleepover at your best friend’s house.
It’s late.
You have to go to the bathroom.
When you can’t hold it any longer, you get up begrudgingly.
You tiptoe into the dark, narrow hallway.
It’s so black you can barely see anything.
When you’re done, you head back.
There’s a different smell, but you think nothing of it.
You slip into the bed.
A muscular arm snakes out.
It hauls you against a body of hard muscle.
You gasp. You’re in bed with the enemy.
“This is a surprise,” a husky voice whispers.
You know that voice.
“E/n,” you say to your best friend’s older brother. “What are you doing in bf/n room?”
He laughs darkly.
“You’re in my room, princess.”
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