Off-Limits - Short Story

Sometimes, a short story isn’t enough. Sometimes, characters demand more.

That might just be the case with this one.

I originally wrote Off-Limits as a short, forbidden, brother’s best friend romance, but something about these two won’t let go. Their chemistry, their tension, their history—it feels bigger than this moment.

So while this story stands on its own, don’t be surprised if Nathan and his very off-limits best friends sister, Callie get their own full-length novella… or maybe even a novel. 👀🔥

For now, enjoy their story—but don’t get too comfortable. This might just be the beginning.

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Off-Limits

I knew it was wrong.

Didn’t matter how many times I reminded myself. How many times I forced myself to look away, to pretend like he was just another guy.

He wasn’t.

He was Nathan Carter. My brother’s best friend. Off-limits in every possible way.

And right now, he was sitting on my couch, wearing a tight black T-shirt and jeans that hugged his thighs in a way that had my brain short-circuiting. One muscular arm was draped over the back of the couch, and when he leaned forward to grab his beer off the coffee table, the fabric stretched over his broad shoulders.

I swallowed, gripping my own drink tighter.

“Something on your mind, Half-Pint?”

I nearly choked. “What?”

Nathan smirked, eyes locked onto mine like he knew exactly what I’d been thinking. “You’ve been staring at me for the past ten minutes.”

My pulse hammered in my throat. I wanted to lie, to pretend I hadn’t been openly admiring him, but what was the point? He wasn’t stupid. He’d always known how I felt.

But he never acted on it. Never crossed the line.

Until tonight.

He didn’t look away. Didn’t crack some joke or divert the conversation to something safe. Instead, he stretched, shifting closer, and suddenly the air between us felt too thick, too charged.

I wet my lips. “I wasn’t staring.”

Nathan’s gaze dipped to my mouth. “Yeah?”

I nodded, even though my voice was weak when I said, “Yeah.”

A slow, knowing smile curved his lips, and then he did something he’d never done before.

He reached out, fingers brushing against the bare skin of my knee.

I sucked in a breath, barely resisting the shiver that shot down my spine. His touch was light, barely there, but it set off an entire chain reaction inside me.

Nathan tilted his head. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were waiting for me to make a move.”

I should shut this down. Should tell him that yes, I’d had a stupid crush on him since I was sixteen, but it didn’t matter because he was my brother’s best friend, and there were rules. And I’m not sixteen anymore.

But then his fingers moved higher, just an inch, and all coherent thoughts disappeared.

“I—”

I never got the words out.

Nathan leaned in, his scent, clean soap, dark spice, and something uniquely him, flooding my senses. His voice dropped lower, rougher. “Tell me to stop, Half-Pint. Tell me this is a mistake.”

I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

Because I can’t tell him it’s a mistake.

Not when I’ve been waiting for this moment for years. Not since I’m already shifting closer, my thighs pressing together as heat pools deep in my stomach.

His fingers flex, tightening just slightly on my skin. “Didn’t think so.”

And then he kisses me.

The moment his lips touch mine, the tension that has been simmering for years finally snaps. His mouth is demanding, hot, and every bit as consuming as I imagined. I fist his shirt, pulling him closer, and that is all the permission he needs.

Nathan growls against my lips, his hands gripping my thighs as he hauls me onto his lap. The feel of his body beneath mine, solid and warm, sends a desperate ache through me. I rock against him, and he groans, dragging his mouth down to my throat.

“Fuck,” he mutters against my skin. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

My head falls back, a moan escaping before I can stop it. “Then why did you wait?”

Nathan’s teeth scrape my pulse point, sending a delicious shiver through me. “Because your brother would kill me.”

I thread my fingers through his hair, pulling him back to my lips. “Then I guess we’ll have to be real quiet, won’t we?”

The fire in his eyes is the only warning I get before he flips me beneath him, pinning me to the couch. One big hand wraps around my thigh, hitching it higher around his waist as his hips roll into mine.

“That,” he murmurs against my mouth, “is a challenge I’m more than willing to take.”

A shiver races down my spine as Nathan’s lips brush mine again, this time slower, more deliberate, like he’s savoring the moment. The heat in his eyes is something I’ve never seen before. Something dark and hungry.

I barely get a breath in before his mouth is on mine again, harder this time, more possessive. His fingers tighten on my thigh, keeping me locked beneath him as his hips press into mine, his weight pinning me to the couch.

“This is a bad idea,” I whisper against his lips, even as my fingers dig into his back, dragging him closer.

His chuckle is low, almost wicked. “You’re the one pulling me in, Half-Pint.”

The nickname, something he’s called me since I was a teenager, used to annoy the hell out of me. Now? The way it rumbles from his chest, rough with desire, kills me in the best way.

“You’re the one touching me,” I shoot back, just to keep from completely losing my head.

Nathan’s hand slides higher, fingers brushing beneath the hem of my shirt. “You’re not stopping me.”

I don’t. I can’t.

Because now that I’ve felt him like this, his hands on me, his body flush against mine, the full weight of his want pressing into me, there’s no turning back.

I gasp as his fingers slip beneath my shirt, skimming over my ribs, up to the underside of my breast. My back arches, my body betraying every single warning going off in my head.

“We shouldn’t,” I breathe.

Nathan groans, burying his face in my neck. “Fucking hell.” His lips press against my throat, soft, teasing, then rougher as his teeth graze my skin. “I tried to stay away, you know.”

My breath stutters. “You;re doing a shit job.”

His laughter is dark and full of heat. “Yeah?” His palm cups my breast, his thumb brushing over my nipple through the thin lace of my bra, and a whimper slips from my throat.

He groans at the sound. “I think I’m doing just fine...”

My nails dig into his shoulders. “So now what?”

Nathan pulls back just enough to look at me, his gaze dropping to my parted lips, then lower, to where my thighs have instinctively wrapped around his hips, keeping him there. He rocks into me, and I feel him, thick, hard, and completely unashamed of it.

His lips brush mine as he murmurs, “Now? We make this mistake… real fucking quietly.”

And then he’s kissing me again, deep and filthy, his tongue sweeping into my mouth like he owns it. His hands slide down to my waist, gripping tight as he grinds against me, and I swear, I forget how to breathe.

I should tell him to stop.

I should remind him this is forbidden, dangerous, a complete disaster waiting to happen.

But the second his fingers hook into my shorts and start tugging them down, the only thing I manage to say is… “Don’t stop.”

Nathan freezes for a half-second, like he needs to hear it again. Needs to be sure I actually said it. But I don’t take it back. I can’t. Not when my body is burning up beneath him, not when his body is pressing into me exactly where I need him.

His eyes flick to mine, dark and searching. “You sure?”

I don’t answer with words. Instead, I lift my hips, helping him slide my shorts down the curve of my thighs.

That’s all the answer he needs.

He swears under his breath, his hands moving faster, pushing the fabric away like it’s been torturing him. The second I’m bare, his fingers slide up the inside of my thigh, and my breath catches.

“Fuck, Callie,” he murmurs, voice rough. “You been sitting here this whole time like this? No panties?”

Heat flares in my cheeks, but I don’t have time to answer before his fingers graze between my thighs, parting me.

A shudder racks my body.

His smirk is pure sin. “You really are trouble.”

My fingers tangle in his shirt, yanking him down. “Then stop talking and do something about it.”

Nathan groans, his mouth slamming against mine as his fingers slip lower, stroking through the slick heat between my thighs. The first slow, teasing pass has me gasping, my back arching.

He feels it. He knows.

The bastard chuckles, pressing his forehead to mine. “Is this what you’ve been thinking about all these years?”

I bite back a whimper as his fingers circle exactly where I need them, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction of answering. Instead, I rock against his hand, chasing the friction, daring him to stop teasing me.

Nathan’s jaw clenches, his free hand gripping my hip to still me. “Be careful, Half-Pint.” His voice is a warning, a promise, dripping with control. “You’re playing with fire.”

I meet his gaze, holding it. “Then burn me.”

His restraint snaps.

Nathan slides two fingers inside me, slow and deep, swallowing the sharp cry that escapes me with another punishing kiss. His thumb presses, rubbing in a way that makes my whole body tighten.

I cling to him, breath coming in ragged gasps. “Oh my God!”

He groans, pressing his forehead to mine as he pumps his fingers deeper, faster. “You feel so fucking good,” he mutters. “I should’ve done this a long time ago.”

I barely hear him over the sound of my own pulse pounding in my ears. Every stroke is perfect, every movement calculated, every inch of him pressed against me, keeping me exactly where he wants me.

I’m close. So close it’s embarrassing.

I fist his shirt, desperate, needy, my nails digging into his skin. “Nathan…,”

“Say my name like that again,” he rasps, pressing his lips to my neck, “and I swear I’ll make you come so hard you’ll never look at me the same way again.”

The heat snaps inside me, pleasure crashing through my body. My fingers dig into his back, my lips parting on a strangled moan as I shatter beneath his touch.

Nathan doesn’t let up. He works me through it, every stroke dragging out the pleasure until I’m trembling, breathless, completely wrecked beneath him.

When I finally collapse against the couch, spent and shaking, he watches me with something almost possessive in his gaze. Like he’s memorizing me like this.

Then, slowly, he lifts his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean.

Holy. Fuck. He. Licks. Them. CLEAN.

I stare, still struggling to breathe.

Nathan smirks, leaning in until our lips almost brush. “Like I said, Half-Pint.” His voice is all rough edges and dark promises. “You’re playing with fire.”

And I’m so, so willing to burn.

The End

Copyright © by LS Phoenix

No portion of this story may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

Published by LS Phoenix

New Hampshire, USA

https://linktr.ee/authorlsphoenix

First Edition: March 2025

Cover Design by LS Phoenix