by J. P. Comeau
His touch was firm but gracious. Dinner had been phenomenal, but his presence put the icing on the proverbial cake. I enjoyed this. The way things used to be between us. When we were friends who flirted around a bit and joked at one another’s expense.
“Brenden?”
He smiled. “Yes?”
“You ready for some dessert?”
He snickered. “I’d love some. I’ve been waiting to taste that sweet cream all day.”
“Just the sweet cream?”
His eyes darkened. “Choose your next words wisely.”
Just because we were cooped up together in a less than palatable situation didn’t mean we couldn't make the most of it. And I had to admit, waking up this morning had been quite lonely. As a smirk crossed my face, I stood up. I walked over to the kitchen island and picked up our bowls of fruit before heading over to the fridge. I pulled out the cold sweet cream and dolloped generous portions on top. Ready to take these bowls back to the table and torture Brenden until he popped.
But, when I turned around, he was behind me. Hovering. With those dark eyes that boasted of mischief.
“Oh,” I breathed.
He took the bowls from my hands. “Do you know what you do to me, Kelly?”
I swallowed hard. “Maybe a bit.”
He grinned. “I know you do, you cheeky girl.”
I felt my face flush. “Can I say something without judgment?”
He dipped his finger into the cream. “Of course.”
“Is there any reason why we can’t still, you know?”
He smoothed the cream against my lips. “Act like I don’t know.”
I whimpered. “Brenden.”
He slipped his finger inside my mouth. “Act. Like I don’t know, Kelly.”
I licked the cream off his finger. “Is there any reason why we can’t still go through with our plan?”
“Oh, I thought you’d never ask.”
His finger fell from my mouth, and his lips crashed against mine. It was hot and searing. It stopped my heart and started it all at once. I raked my hands through his hair. He gripped my hips, hoisting me onto the kitchen counter. And as my legs spread for him, his arms cloaked my back.
Pulling me closer as his tongue danced wondrously against the roof of my mouth.
“Oh, shit,” I moaned.
He growled down the back of my throat before fisting my skirt.
“Brenden,” I breathed.
“Up we go,” he whispered.
My arms raised, and he slid my dress over my head. My body bared it all for him, including the lingerie I had picked out for tonight. He stood back, surveying my flushed body while his dark eyes lingered along the white lacy fabric. The push-up bra forced my tits together, and the peekaboo panties held my stockings up with clips, accenting how long my legs really were in person.
“Oh, you naughty girl,” he growled.
“You like?” I asked.
His eyes snapped up to mine. “You went into my bedroom and found my wedding gift to you.”
“I… may have done a little snooping.”
“And you’re going to pay for that in as many orgasms as I wish to give you.”
I reached for him. “Bring it on, handsome.”
“Don’t mind if I do.”
I gripped his shirt and pulled him back to me, our lips crashing together with ecstatic delight. His hands were all over me, caressing me, and massaging me. Exploring my body and the length of my limbs. My head fell back as he kissed my neck. He sucked a patch of skin between his teeth at my pulse point, pulling an involuntary moan from the back of my throat.
Then, he scooped me into his arms.
“Oh!” I squealed.
“You’re coming with me,” he commanded.
I kissed his shoulder. “Take me anywhere you wish.”
A few minutes later, he tossed me onto his bed. I bounced and giggled, watching as he undressed for me. His lean muscles came into view, chiseled and untamed. Yet, there was a softness to them I couldn't ignore. A kind of calm and casual look to them that made me feel comfortable, even in the presence of exploring something unknown.
“Take me,” I whispered.
He crawled across the bed to me, his body hovering over mine.
“Don’t mind if I do,” he murmured.
His lips fell to mine, and my legs spread for him. I felt heat trickling up and down my thighs as his naked body settled against my own. I felt his cock throbbing and leaking against my skin. My eyes bulged as a moan escaped my lips, and I wondered how in the world something like that would fit inside my body.
“It’s okay. You’re in good hands. I’m going to go as slow as you want. All right?”
I gazed up into Brenden’s eyes. “Promise?”
He kissed the tip of my nose. “Promise, promise.”
His fingertips brushed against my pussy lips, and I jumped. My eyes fell closed as he breached my folds, and wetness poured forth. I heard him chuckle as he kissed my breasts. Soft mounds that jiggled for him as his fingers circled around my swollen nub. I gasped with pleasure. My body jumped as he moved faster. Around and around, filling me with fire as it rushed through the marrow of my bones.
“Brenden.”
“That’s it, beautiful.”
“Brenden, oh shit.”
“You want to come, don’t you?”
“Yes, yes, yes, yes.”
He slipped his finger inside me. “Then, come.”
“Oh, shit!”
My back arched, and colors burst inside my head. My eyes rolled back, and my body pulled taut as ecstasy barreled over me. Then, I felt something stretching me. Filling me. Pressing against my walls as my body shook from its pleasure. I gripped the soft sheets beneath me. My throat let loose an alien sound I’d never heard myself make before. And as I felt his rippling abs settle against my stomach, my back dropped to the bed.
My eyes fell open.
“Hey there, gorgeous.”
My toes curled. “Oh.”
“You okay?”
I panted. “Are you--?”
He kissed my lips softly. “I am, yes.”
I squeezed my walls around him. “Oh, yeah.”
He grunted. “Damn it, you’re tight.”
I giggled. “I’d think so, yes.”
He captured my lips. “You let me know when you’re ready.”
And when I bucked against him, he drew his hips back.
He slid slowly back into me, filling my gut with a pressure I never wanted to be without ever again. My legs locked around his. My hands gripped his forearms. I tried to keep my eyes open, but every time he thrust, they fell closed again.
“Brenden. Oh--my--Jesus.”
His forehead fell against mine. “Ready to party?”
“Oh, hell, yes.”
His hips snapped against mine, and I groaned. My toes pointed, and my back arched as his face fell to my cleavage. He kissed me and sucked at my skin. He toyed with my nipples using his tongue while his hips rolled effortlessly against mine. I felt my juices dripping down my ass crack, covering me in my own debaucherous mark.
Then, Brenden slid against a spot that made me jump.
“Oh!”
His eyebrows rose. “Right there?”
He swiveled his hips, and the world started to fade.
“Oh, shit. Oh… oh, fuck.”
“Ah, yes. Right--right there.”
“Brenden!”
He swiveled his hips again. “Say my name.”
“Shit, shit, shit, shit.”
He gripped my hair. “Say my name, gorgeous.”
And when he swiveled his hips one last time, I felt myself about to burst. “Brenden. Oh, please. I’m so close. So, so close. Brenden. Brenden. Oh, God. Please.”
He swiveled and bucked. He thrust and snapped. I felt out of control in all the best ways for the first time in my life. My body molded to him. His lips wouldn't stop pressing kisses against me. And as my walls clamped a
round him, I locked my legs around his waist, pulling him even deeper as his lips fell against mine.
He growled while I moaned. He grunted while I groaned. I swallowed his sounds while he swallowed mine as his cock pulsed against my walls. I felt my body milking him for all he had. I felt my world spiraling out of control. And as his cock continued to jump, I felt his threads of arousal coating me. Marking me. Making me his.
At least, for the month.
“Damn it, Kelly,” he grunted.
“Oh, oh, oh my God,” I breathed.
And when his body collapsed on top of mine, I wrapped my arms around him.
Holding him close as I fell asleep with him inside me.
“Brenden?”
My arm flopped to his side of the bed and fell against cold sheets.
“Brenden?”
I heard him sip something. “I’m here. Just at my desk.”
I peeked an eye open. “The sun isn’t even out yet.”
I heard him sip again. “It’s three in the morning. Go back to sleep.”
“Then, come to bed.”
He sipped once more. “After I’m done.”
I sat up. “Whatcha drinking?”
“Whiskey.”
“At three in the morning?”
“Helps to focus my mind when I’m working.”
I rolled onto my side. “What are you working on?”
“Just this project.”
“A property?”
He shook his head but didn’t say anything.
“What are you working on, then?” I asked.
He sighed. “Well, while I know I’ll always be part of Stonewater Realty, I’ve been working on getting my own production company up and running. You know, as a side project.”
“I didn’t know you enjoyed stuff like that.”
He shrugged. “Just a way to expound on my own dreams.”
“What are your dreams?”
“Well, at one point in time, it was to be an actor.”
I bolted upright. “I didn’t know you wanted to act.”
“Yep. I mean, Dad thought it was frivolous, and Mom thought it was just a phase. But, at one point in time, it’s really what I wanted to do.”
I scooted to the edge of the bed. “Why didn’t you pursue it?”
“I don’t know. I guess what my parents said really got to me. But, now that I’ve got the money to do something like this, I figured this is another avenue I can use to pursue something in the performing arts. Which I’ve always loved.”
“Wow.”
He snickered. “That’s hard to imagine?”
I cocked my head. “Not at all, actually.”
He peeked over his shoulder and smiled, and there was something in his eye I’d never seen before. Dedication. I didn’t think it was possible for Brenden to ever dedicate himself to something--or be serious about anything. Yet, here he was, developing a way to carve out a path toward his original love.
The performing arts.
“Well, I, for one think, it’s a great plan.”
He turned back to his computer. “Thank you for that. It means a lot.”
And the sincerity of his voice also broke my heart. Because it came from a place of sadness. It came from a place of longing. It came from a place of emptiness.
Maybe Brenden wasn’t the kind of man we thought him to be at all.
Maybe, just maybe, he was playing a part that had him pigeonholed.
16
Brenden
One Week Later
“So, Bebe. How are things at work?” Mom asked.
Zane interjected. “Things are going really well, actually. Just offloaded another three properties this week, and Clint here’s offered his security services to all of them in case they want to keep him on retainer.”
Dad nodded. “Good work, son. You got contracts worked out yet?”
Clint took a bite of his sandwich. “Working on it. Gotta tweak ‘em, then I’ll shoot them an offer.”
Dad grinned. “So, they are interested, then.”
Zane took a sip of his water. “Two of the three, yeah.”
Mom sighed. “That’s so great, CeCe. And we’re so glad to have you home.”
I finally spoke up. “And I’m sure he’d say it’s good to be home.”
Dad glared at me. “You’ve never known when to reel in that humor of yours.”
I shrugged. “Figured if everyone was answering for everyone else, then I could continue the trend.”
Mom clicked her tongue. “BeBe, stop. We’re just trying to enjoy a peaceful lunch.”
Zane chuckled. “Yeah, BeBe.”
I glared at my brother. “I’ll kill you in your sleep, ZeZe.”
Dad pointed his fork at me. “Not at this table. Understood.”
I saluted him. “Got it, boss.”
Zane cleared his throat. “So, Dad. How are things on your end of the spectrum? I know it’s been a tough year for you guys. Everything going okay?”
Dad sat back. “Ah, well. I’ve had to lay off quite a few people, and I’m not happy about it. We could only offer them partial severance, too. I’m not sure what I’m going to do yet. I’m consulting with my investors' first thing in the morning to see if we can come up with something.”
I peeked over at him. “Do you have a side business or something new you can draw from?”
Dad looked over at me. “I don’t enjoy parting my attention with multiple projects like that.”
Zane furrowed his brow. “Why not? I thought you liked my rental property idea.”
“Well, yes. Because that falls in line with the work you currently do. It’s not really a focus-shifter. It’s just an offshoot of what you already do.”
I took a bite of my food. “So, I shouldn’t bring up the fact that I’m in the beginning stages of starting my own production business.”
Mom gasped. “What!? Oh, sweetie. That’s phenomenal! When you were younger, you always wanted to--.”
Dad’s face fell. “You still haven’t given up on that foolish dream yet?”
I shook my head. “I’m not becoming an actor. I’m just--.”
“Giving other foolish dreamers hope before crushing their dreams. Is that really the kind of man you want to be?”
Zane looked at me. “I didn’t know you were starting something like that.”
Clint paused. “Wait, you didn’t even tell Zane?”
Dad shook his head. “Irresponsible, at best, not to tell your own damn business partner about possibly leaving.”
I sighed. “No one said anything about leaving. I’ll always be part of the--.”
Dad pointed at me with his fork. “That’s exactly what my first business partner said before he left to start his own small-town bank chain. You want to know what happened with that?”
I rolled my eyes. “I already know. You bought him out--.”
“Two years into his fun little adventure, yes. You’ve already found success at Zane’s side. No use in abandoning your own brother for some dream you can’t let go of.”
Mom whispered. “Don’t be so hard on him, honey.”
Dad’s eyes fell to his food. “Then, he needs to stop making such asinine decisions.”
I looked over at Clint, and he seemed to be the only person who had sympathy in his eyes for me. It didn’t matter, though. It was always like that. Clint came to Zane’s defense all the time. But, me? The middle child? I took care of myself. I was the punching bag for Mom and Dad. I was the referee between Clint and Zane. I was the loner. The impossible child. The weird one.
And obviously, that would never change. No matter the kind of success I found.
“BeBe, I’d like to hear more about this production company of yours. Does it have a name?” Mom asked.
Dad waved his hand in the air. “Stop encouraging him. The last thing we need is to--.”
I nodded. “It does, Mom. I’m calling it ‘Top Notch Productions.’”
Clint grinned. “Yo
u gonna do that with your little wifey?”
The entire table paused as Mom’s fork fell from her hand.
“What did you say, CeCe?” she asked.
Clint’s eyes met mine. “Wait, you haven’t told them?”
I wanted to kill him. “No, Clint. I haven’t.”
Dad’s voice grew gruff. “Did he say ‘wifey’?”
I closed my eyes. “It was an accidental marriage. A dare gone bad. I’m taking care of it.”
Dad shot up from the table. “You got married in a Vegas chapel, and you didn’t tell me!?”
Mom grabbed his arm. “Sit down.”
I leaned back. “Remind me never to tell you guys anything ever again.”
Clint shrugged. “How was I supposed to know?”
I leaned forward. “You used those loose lips of yours when you asked, fuckwad.”
Mom snipped at me. “No language like that at the table.”
“And once again, I have to clean up your messes. Let me get in touch with my attorney. They’ll have it handled before the day is out.” Dad threw his napkin down.
I shook my head. “No, thanks, actually. I got it handled.”
“Nonsense. You need to be out of this sooner rather than later. Before the bimbo, you’ve married--.”
I stood. “Excuse me?”
Dad glared at me. “Before the woman, you married bleeds you dry of all your money. You know damn good and well women in this town--.”
I pointed at him. “Don’t you dare talk about Kelly that way. She’s a bright, intelligent, beautiful, down-to-earth woman who anyone would be lucky to marry. And I don’t need you, or your money, or your influence, or your damn attorney to babysit me or do me any favors. Some days? I think you forget who got my business up and running before I even offered Zane a slice of the pie.”
Zane nodded. “He’s right, Dad.”
I watched his face turn red. “Get out of my house.”
I threw my napkin down onto my plate. “Trust me, I’m two steps ahead of you.”
With Mom bickering and Clint finally stepping up to the plate for me, I stormed out of the house. I hated coming here. I hated family get-togethers. I hated sitting down anywhere with my father and trying to talk to him about shit. I was okay with Mom. I could run my own damn drug empire, and so long as I paid my bills, she’d pat me on the back. But, Dad?