by Doe, Anna B.
Waiting.
Assessing.
“Make me forget, Max,” she pleads almost desperately.
Her lips brush against mine tentatively. A swipe of her mouth, so soft it almost feels surreal. Imaginary. But there is nothing imaginary about the girl sitting in my lap. My hands grip her hips, pulling her closer.
When she kisses me again, I don’t leave her hanging. My mouth connects with hers, returning her kiss.
She moans softly, her eyes falling closed. Her fingers dig into my scalp, angling my head as her tongue darts out and traces my lower lip, nudging for entrance. Entrance I give to her. The control she’s seeking.
I give it all to her.
Anything she wants is hers for the taking.
Brook’s tongue swipes into my mouth, mashing, dancing. I groan in approval, my hands sliding up and down her sides over her tank top, feeling the curve of her waist and hip.
One of her hands skims down my neck, over my chest until it reaches my stomach. Her fingers tracing the lines of my abs.
“I need more…” she breathes, breaking our kiss.
Her eyes are glassy, need and passion mixing with determination. She rolls her hips into mine, her head falling back as her heat meets my hardness.
It feels so good.
Having her in my arms.
Touching her skin.
It feels so good.
So right.
I kiss the hollow of her shoulder, my tongue swiping over soft skin and tasting her. Tasting the honey and faint sheen of saltiness on her skin mixed with wildflower and the scent of rain in her hair.
Wild and intoxicating.
That’s what she is.
She keeps grinding against me, her lips devouring mine.
My hands dig underneath her shirt, touching her soft, pale skin. Finding her braless, I murmur in approval against her mouth, my hands sliding down her sides and up her front, cupping her small, perky tits, thumbs brushing against hard peaks.
Her teeth scrape my lower lip as she breaks the kiss, pulling away just enough to remove her shirt.
I let my eyes roam her naked chest, drinking in the ivory skin illuminated by the slight moonlight peeking through the window.
Her back is arched, little, pink buds begging for my attention. Leaning forward, I pull one nipple into my mouth, sucking lightly until I can feel Brook completely melt in my arms. Her fingers dig into my hair, grasping tightly as I nip the sensitive tip, tongue swirling, teeth nibbling.
“Max…” My name is a breathless sigh falling off her lips.
A chant.
A plea.
She pushes her chest more into my face, her hips pressing harder onto me, movement rougher, more frantic.
My dick is pulsing in tune with her grinds, begging to be set free.
“More…” she pants, and I murmur in agreement.
My hand slides down her spine, pushing against her lower back, helping her navigate the movement. I let her nipple pop out of my mouth, red and glistering from my assault.
“I’ll give you more, Firecracker,” I pant hard against her skin. “So much more.”
A small smile curves her lips.
Wicked.
Almost playful.
She rises off my lap just enough so she can pull down my underwear. A small tug of her wrist and my cock springs free. I want to sigh in relief, but don’t get a chance because her hand is wrapped around me.
“Brook,” I hiss, my whole body growing tense at her touch.
Her fingers are so small, so delicate, they can’t even wrap around me properly, but her grip is firm, confident. She works my length with sure strokes, her thumb swiping over my head every so often.
“I need you…” she whispers, tracing my skin with quick, closed-mouthed kisses. “I need you so much it hurts.”
“Take what you need,” I murmur softly, letting her take control because that’s what she needs. I want her to slay whatever demons haunt her in her dreams, make her feel powerless, make her feel small and afraid when she’s anything but. So I give her what she needs.
I relish her touch, my hands roaming her skin.
Brook kisses the path of my chest, over my collarbone and up my neck until our lips touch again. Mouths mashing, tongues intertwining.
I pat blindly to the side until my fingers find the drawer. Pulling it out, I fish for a square package. Breaking the kiss, Brook watches me, transfixed, as I put on the condom.
Together we move her panties to the side.
She hovers over me, so close I can feel her heat, yet too fucking far away.
Her forehead touches mine, our panting breaths mingling. I grab the base of my cock, the tip brushing against her wetness. Her fingers brush my cheeks, digging into my hair as her glossy eyes look at mine.
Passion and desperation mixing together.
“Make it go away.” Her lips brush against mine. “Make it all go away.”
We deepen our kiss, eyes closing as she slowly sinks down on me, both of us moaning as her body stretches to accommodate my size.
“Holy shit…”
She’s so fucking tight, gripping my dick firmly. Her pussy wraps around me, fitting like a glove. Hot and warm and oh-so welcoming.
Her hands grip my shoulders as she finds balance. Her body slowly lifts, releasing the death grip she has on me, and I want to cry in frustration, but then she’s lowering back down, pulling me in, this time deeper.
With every stroke, her movements grow faster and she sinks deeper.
Our hectic pants fill the dark, quiet room. The sound of rain and sweaty skin sliding against sweaty skin forms the perfect harmony in the background.
“I don’t think I can take much more of this,” I pant between kisses.
She’s sinking down almost completely now, my whole length thrusting inside her.
“So close…”
My hand slides between our bodies, my fingers finding her clit. Just a brush of my fingers makes her squeeze me tighter.
“I-I…” I start rubbing harder, circling the sensitive bud. “I n-need…”
Her head falls back, her fingers digging harder into my shoulders. I lean forward, my tongue tasting her salty neck as she rides me, teeth nibbling at her slick skin.
She slides down my length, swallowing me whole, and I pinch the small nub, thrusting into her. Over and over again.
“Ma—”
My lips crash over hers as her whole body shakes, her pussy gripping tightly as wave after wave of pleasure washes over her, making her body shudder in my arms.
Gripping her hips tightly, I chase my own release, pushing deeper, thrusting harder until her quivering body pulls me over the edge along with her.
Her name is a shout falling off my lips, buried in the hollow of her skin.
* * *
BROOK
What the hell have I done? I look to the side at the body stretched next to me. Max is sleeping, his hand draped over my middle, his chest moving as he softly breathes, totally unaware of my internal freak-out.
Why do I keep doing things like this? Just why?
This was a huge mistake, but there was no stopping it. Not when the nightmare was still vivid in my mind. Not when the thought of the past was haunting me and I knew there was only one way I could make it all go away. Only one way that would make me forget.
You said you were done with this shit, a little voice reminds me, but I push it away. I know what I’m doing is wrong. Fucked up on so many levels, and if anybody caught on, they’d have a field day trying to figure it out, but what’s done is done. It’s not like I can go back in time and change it.
Would you change it? Would you really?
I swallow hard, ignoring the conscience that’s eating at me. This is the last time. It won’t happen again. It can’t happen again.
Is it really?
Oh, fuck off already!
Frustrated, I slowly slide his hand off my stomach as not to disturb him. I wait a while, pra
ctically not breathing just to make sure I don’t wake Max before I finally breathe out in relief and slide off the bed.
I grab the first shirt I find, pulling it over me to hide my nakedness, and when I’m done, I lift my gaze to him.
The soft morning light that comes through the window illuminates his frame. Max is lying on his stomach with one hand tucked underneath the pillow. A blanket is covering his lower half barely enough to be considered decent, leaving his muscular back completely exposed.
My fingers itch to touch him, trace that smooth skin. I could still feel his hands on my body, his lips brushing against mine in a fervent kiss.
Lia…
The way he said my best friend’s name that first time rings in my mind. There is no reason for it, not really. It’s not like Max called me by her name this time around. But it’s not like my brain cares about that; it just kindly reminds me of the fact. Max still wants her. Still loves her, yet he slept with me.
Did he think of her tonight too?
My heart squeezes in my chest. Just the thought of it makes bile rise in my throat.
Pressing the palm of my hand against my chest, I rub it, but the ache doesn’t go away. If anything, my chest squeezes, making it impossible to breathe.
I have to get out of here. I can’t be here when he wakes up. I can’t be here if I want to be able to breathe normally again.
Chapter Seventeen
MAX
I grunt loudly, pushing up the bar in my hands. It’s Monday morning, and like every day, we have to be here for the pre-class workout, but today I came in extra early. It was either that or keep turning in my bed, and I’d go nuts if I stayed closed inside one more second. I did that all day yesterday, and I was done.
Done with tossing and turning.
Done with questioning myself.
Just done.
She’s the one who ran away, again if I may add, not me. I tried calling her. I tried looking for her, but I didn’t find her and when I got back home, I was greeted by her smell. It still lingered in the space—honey, wildflowers, and rain—driving me crazy. Not only is she messing with my head when I need it the least, but her presence is everywhere I turn.
How can somebody spend barely any time in my room, but make it feel like she’s been there forever?
My lips press in a tight line, hands clenching the metal bar harder. My chest is burning, trembling arms feeling like jelly as sweat drips down my face.
Three.
Up and down.
Two.
Another loud groan as I push the bar up.
One.
My eyes fall shut. I concentrate on steadying my shaking arms and try to give one last push to put the bar back into the holder.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
The weight is lifted out of my hands, and I can hear the familiar clink of metal against metal. Still lying flat on my back, I try my best to even my labored breathing. With the back of my hand, I wipe the sweat out of my eyes before I finally open them to face my unwanted companion.
Out of all the people…
“I felt like putting in some extra work.”
“Yeah, right…” Andrew throws a towel at me, and I grab it just before it falls on my face. Without another word, he turns around and walks to the treadmill.
I rub the sweat off and only then do I slowly straighten into a sitting position on the bench. I watch him set up, slow jog turning into a full-on run.
Any other day I’d ask Drew to come and spot me. We’d joke and shoot the shit, but not today. Not after this weekend.
We haven’t talked since I punched him in the face on Saturday. Although my fight with Jeanette left me drained, I just couldn’t let it go. He went after my sister behind my back. You don’t do shit like that with your friend's sister.
I know Jeanette tried to play it cool, but I wasn’t buying it for a second. She just wasn’t that kind of girl. She could pretend she’s a badass all she wants, but I knew the truth. Her heart was sensitive, and it had already been broken one too many times.
And Andrew… He wasn’t the guy for her. He was too cold and jaded, and Jeanette needed more than that.
Running my fingers through my damp strands of hair, I sigh loudly. The muscles in his back stiffen, and I can see his jaw work, but he doesn’t say a word.
They both said it was nothing, just a slip, but for some reason, I didn’t believe them. Yes, they’re constantly at each other’s throats, but I’m not so sure all there is between them is hate, not after seeing that photo. And that simply couldn’t happen. They’re both so damaged, and if Andrew fucked with her and broke her heart… I’m not sure Jeanette would be able to recover from it, not with everything else.
“Andrew…”
“Spare me,” he grunts. “You said everything you had to say yesterday.”
“It’s nothing personal,” I try, but who am I kidding? Of course it’s personal. He’s messing with my sister. My no-nonsense, pretends-nothing-affects-her sister with the most sensitive heart who’s been through enough. If he were a different guy or if she hadn’t been through what she’d been… but those are all just wishful thoughts because the reality is what it is, and we can’t change it.
“Of course not.”
I open my mouth to say something; I’m not even sure what, but the door to the gym bursts open, our teammates filling the space with Coach at their heels.
“C’mon, boys. Time to sweat it out.”
* * *
When Coach is done with us, I can barely stand. With hockey season in full swing, he was working us hard on and off the ice. So far, this season looked really promising. We’d won all the games so far, but all that could change in the blink of an eye if we didn’t stay focused.
That’s why, as soon as practice was wrapped up, I took a quick shower, grabbed my shit and went looking for my distraction. Brook could hide only so long, and we both knew it.
My muscles protested all the way to the art room, but I didn’t let it slow me down. Even after an excruciating workout, I was still so pissed at her and what she did. Pissed at her for running away and pretending like nothing happened.
I didn’t get her. I thought she’d finally opened up to me, but then she goes and does something to show me that those walls she’s built around herself are as strong, as impenetrable, as ever. That no matter how hard I tried to get to her, she’d push me back, not budging in the slightest.
I storm into the art room ready to finally face Brook and have it out with her once and for all, but of course, the one time when I need her to be alone she’s anything but. Two other people, a guy and a girl, are in the room working on their own stuff. Their heads snap up when the door bangs against the wall with my abrupt entrance, their eyes growing wide when they see me standing in the doorway.
The only person who seems composed is Brook. Her hair is pulled into a ponytail, her green eyes staring into mine across the room with the tip of her paintbrush between her teeth. She looks casual and cool as fuck. Almost bored, even. Which pisses me off even more.
“Get out.” I tilt my chin to the side, but when they don’t move quick enough I repeat, this time louder, “Get the fuck out!”
They jump in surprise but start moving, and in thirty seconds flat, they both slide out, careful not to brush against me as they squeeze past.
Slowly, I close the door behind them before I turn around to face Brook.
“Dramatic much?” One dark eyebrow rises mockingly at me.
I narrow my eyes at her. With arms crossed over my chest, I stand in front of the door, blocking anyone who might want to enter, but more importantly, stopping Brook from leaving. “We’re going to talk, and I’m not letting you run away this time around.”
I expect some kind of reaction, but the best I get is a tick in her jaw. “I don’t see what we have to talk about.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” I slowly start walking toward her. “How about the fact that we had s
ex, and then I woke up to an empty bed the next day?”
I sound like a damn pussy, but I don’t even care. For some reason, waking up with her gone messed with my mind more than I’d ever admit out loud. We’ve been dancing around all of this for weeks now, and I need to know where we stand because I don’t have time to play games.
Her lips press in a tight line, the irritation rolling off of her in waves. Welcome to the club, babe. Feigning nonchalance, she shrugs. “It was just sex.”
My eyes narrow at her. “Was this revenge?”
She rolls her eyes at me, and then she turns around, blocking me out of her sight. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
My hands ball into fists by my side. “It was, wasn’t it? You’re still pissed at what happened at the Halloween party!”
Her shoulders stiffen, but she doesn’t turn around. “It has nothing to do with Halloween.”
“Doesn’t it?” I challenge. “Because to me, it feels like it has everything to do with it. I already said I was sorry. I was drunk that night, and I’m not even sure why…”
Brook turns suddenly, her finger pointed at me, fury shining in her irises. “Don’t you dare lie to me, Max. We both know full well why you did what you did. You’re in love with her, but you can’t have her, so you went for the next best thing. Either way, what happened was just sex. A huge mistake, but just sex.”
“There is no such thing as just sex, Brook.” Her words spike something inside of me. I march closer, so close the only thing separating us is her canvas. “Especially not what happened Saturday night. Is that why you ran away? Was it too much? Staring into my eyes when I was so deep inside you I could feel your womb?”
Her cheeks flush from my words, giving me satisfaction. I brush the tips of my fingers against her cheeks, and when my skin touches hers and a zip of electricity runs through my limbs, I can hear her sharp inhale. Leaning forward so my breath touches her skin, I whisper softly, “Was it too much to fall apart knowing that I was there watching? Knowing I’m the one who did that? I’m the one who made you lose control if only for a few seconds?”