by Xavier Neal
“You too...”
Though the coffee shop is basically right around the corner from Brie's apartment, it's still safest and quickest for me to drive.
Well to have Swiss drive. I don't do much driving when he's around. Lately, I've let my mind wonder what it would be like to have my own car. To live in one place and have a reason to own it. To be able to drive somewhere unaccompanied... No, I don't even have a car in Doctenn. Driving is practically a useless skill when your security details are the ones who do it for you by mandate.
About half way up the stairs to their apartment, Jovi appears with a warm, surprised smile.
“Good morning, Jovi.”
“Morning, Kellan.” Her grin tries not to expand. “Bringing Brie coffee again?”
“It's the only excuse I can find to see her every morning.”
She lets out a small swoon.
You too? Hm. Glad you approve of my sweet gesture.
“Is she up yet?”
“No, I don't think so. Her professor canceled class again. His daughter was in a car crash and he hasn't made it back to town yet.”
“That's awful,” I sigh, reaching the top of the steps.
“Yeah,” Jovi agrees with a broken look.
I make haste to change the glum topic. “No McCoy this morning? He in trouble with you for something?”
She giggles, turns, and unlocks the apartment door for me. “No. I made him sleep at his own apartment last night, so I could work on my paper without him constantly asking am I finished yet.”
I snicker. “Can't blame him. I did the same thing yesterday when Brie was attempting to write her paper on the statue of David.”
“I choose Pietà.”
Cluelessness cloaks my expression.
“It's another marble statue by Michelangelo.”
“You are meant to be best friends, aren't you?”
Jovi gives me a giggle, but nods. “Enjoy your coffee date.”
“Enjoy your....class?”
She waves and scampers down the steps as I head into their apartment.
Glad Brie has someone she can share her passion of art with. That's one subject I highly doubt I will ever enjoy.
I carefully open Brie's bedroom door, doing my best not to disturb her if she is indeed still sleeping. It turns out she is. And it's breathtaking.
She looks like a dark-skinned angel missing from those paintings I've seen her study. Her white sheet is wrapped around her while her wavy hair is spread across the pillows as if purposely displaying her flawless face. There are very few women I've seen in this state. Countless times, women I've slept with refresh their make up before I've awoken like I'm not going to notice. Truth is, I love that Brie allows me to see parts of her other women have been too embarrassed to expose. Yes, I did just stroll in here unannounced today, but she never makes a fuss about covering herself with makeup. In fact, she doesn't wear much of it at all unless we head somewhere that she feels requires it. Soph is similar except she has a lipstick addiction.
Suddenly, Brie's body begins to roll over onto her back. She catches a glimpse of me in the progress, which results in the shrill, sharp, scared scream.
Hope you didn't need your eardrums either...
“Good morning, love.”
“Holy crap, Kellan!” She bites and searches for her glasses on her nightstand. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
The moment they're on her face I smile at the vision I love more every time I see it.
“Were you just...watching me sleep?”
“You looked peaceful.”
“And you look creepy...” Still whirling around in shock, she snaps, “How the hell did you even get in here? Did you pull some strings from a CIA buddy? Get a key made?”
Sitting on the edge of her bed, closest to the bathroom, I reply, “Jovi let me in before she left for class.” Her shoulders finally fall in relief. “I told you I wasn't a stalker.”
“Walking a thin line there by popping into my room to watch me sleep.”
“I popped in while you were sleeping. Big difference.”
“Not as big as you think.”
With a roll of the eyes, I offer her one of the cups. “White mocha?”
“Trying out a new nickname?” She teases. “Not gonna lie. Kinda dig it.” Brie takes the beverage with one hand and uses the other to adjust the falling sheet.
A curious grin grows. “Are you naked?”
“I have on under wear.”
My eyes steal another glimpse of where the sheet is pressed tightly to her chest.
“Nu-huh,” she insists, redirecting my eyes back to hers. “I'm not showing.”
“You think you know me well enough to assume what I'm thinking?”
“You're staring at my tits. It doesn't take a doctorate to guess what thoughts are rolling around.”
With a playful smirk, I lean over and lightly press our lips together for a moment. “Good morning, love.”
She helplessly smiles. “Good morning, Kellan.”
Casually, I place my cup of coffee on her nightstand and pull her against me for an additional kiss. At first she attempts to keep the kiss short and curt yet my endless nipping at her bottom lip forces her to spread them for my liking. My tongue instantly punishes her for not caving sooner while she leaks light whimpers of encouragement to continue. Within seconds, her coffee is on the stand beside mine, and her hands are tugging at my neck to move me closer. I give into her demand as well as begin my own by pulling at the sheet. The moment it falls, my hand cups the unprotected flesh, only to have a throaty growl released.
She pulls back, her lips puffy from being overpowered, and lets a moan free.
Every morning should start this way...
Before I've had the chance to give the soft skin another stroke, her hand glides across my crotch, and grips my hardened cock with intent. The husky groan that's grabbed spurs her to give my swollen member another greedy rub. After a gentle push of encouragement to lean backwards, she undoes my belt, my pants, and slides her hand from my immediate sight. The feeling of her warm palm pressed against my dick causes me to eagerly help her efforts of the jailbreak. Once my cock is in a more offering position, she carefully caresses with sharp motions, each being delivered with enough delicious force to roll my eyes into the back of my head. Brie continues her slow, agonizing pumps like every brush has only one long, luscious mission. A dab of pre-cum seeps from the tip, and she smoothly spreads it down my shaft to assist in her exploits. My breathing abruptly shortens as my mind struggles to focus on the idea of holding off the orgasm building. Suddenly, Brie's hot breath is setting the skin on my neck ablaze during her journey for my earlobe. Her teeth tug at the same time her hand does, making me powerless to stop from coming. My mouth becomes rictus while my mind becomes imprisoned in a heavenly haze with every erotic rush that leaves my cock.
I don't think I've had a hand job feel quite like that.
Completely spent, I fall backwards and Brie begins to snicker in a way I'm unfortunately too familiar with. Once air has migrated back to the part of my brain that allows speaking, I ask, “Why are you laughing?”
She proudly hums. “This time you made the mess on your suit.”
The fact I'm going to now have crotch stains should irritate me yet I open my eyes and peer up at her with a smile. “Worth it.”
Brie snickers again, drops a chaste kiss on my lips, and says, “I'll grab you a towel before I hop in the shower.”
Unable to do more than nod, I let her vanish from my sight, a blissful smirk still burning my lips.
If this is what it's like while we're simply just dating for a week, I can't imagine what dating for longer would entail. Perhaps donuts and blow jobs rather than coffee and hand jobs? Perhaps bagels after enjoying her for breakfast? I know I shouldn't wonder, I know it isn't my place to, but how about we let me just this once. I doubt I'll ever experience anything like this again.
Brie
; I slide my hands into my sweatshirt pocket. “You really didn't have to switch shifts to be here with me.”
“I know,” Jovi says, eyes glancing back and forth between me and the empty road where the runners will be. “But there's no way I could pass this up. Part of me still can't believe you're even here.”
Me either.
“Then again, you've spent every night with him since he sent you those strawberries, so maybe we should get used to him being around, on a more permanent bases?” She wiggles her eyebrows causing me to roll my eyes in retaliation.
We have spent every night together since our movie make out session. And every morning. In less than a week we've somehow established our own little routine of sweet good morning texts followed promptly by morning coffee delivered with a heavy tongue romp or if time allows a little more. During the day when I'm in class or have a free minute at work we exchange quips, but the moment I'm off and we're together, our time is primarily spent laughing from pushing each other's buttons and allowing our playful retorts to transform into wicked foreplay that always ends with me coming. I mean always. And not just one orgasm. He has a self-set goal of at least three but my body can never handle more than four without a reprieve. Kellan on the other hand has an impeccable rebound time and always gets off at least twice. Ready to be shocked? None of it is from sex! Just our hands. Yeah. You heard me correctly, but just in case you think you didn't I will repeat it. Not. From. Sex. Hard to believe he's still around given what we know about him, right? While he jokes, he's never actually pushed me for more or become irked because I refuse to screw him yet. Yeah...Talk about being completely wrong about someone. Well...maybe not completely wrong, but definitely in that department. On multiple accounts. It's not normal for a guy to get a woman off that many times with his fingers, is it? I mean, it's been....some time since I've had any kind of sex life, but I don't remember it ever involving this many orgasms.
“Well?” Jovi pushes when I don't answer. “Will we?”
A small lump swells in my throat.
We've done everything we can to avoid talking about it, but he flies back to Fayweather tomorrow morning. While we haven't discussed what that means for the two of us, I'm not dumb enough to believe in a long distance relationship, especially not one that takes place in two different countries. You've met Kellan. That would go against everything in his nature, not to mention I don't need that type of stress. I've gotta focus on graduating. That's....That's the most important thing right now.
“Brie,” she says sharply.
“Probably not.” I clear my throat. “He flies home tomorrow. He was only in town for the run.”
Her brown eyes widen. “Seriously?”
I nod and casually shrug. “It's not a big deal. I knew that from the start. Guess in a way I didn't think it would matter. Didn't exactly plan to spend this much time together. Hell, I didn't think he'd still be interested.”
Jovi scoffs just as the runners come around for the first lap.
Not leading the pack, but shortly behind, is Kellan jogging happily along. He slows down a bit and scans the crowd until he spots me. The moment our eyes connect, he gives me a quick wink and picks up the speed again.
Don't remind me he's even dreamier glistening in a thin layer of sweat. Ugh. Can you imagine how hot he'd look on top of me like that?
“Why the hell would you think he wouldn't still be interested?” She squeaks.
Knowing it's time for another confession, I let out a deep sigh and lower my voice. “Because he basically can have any woman he wants. He's a prince.”
“A prince?”
“Well...and technically a duke.”
Jovi gives me a sarcastic look. “What's the real reason?”
“That,” I reiterate.
Before she can accuse me of anything, I lift a finger for her to hold on, and use my other hand to remove my cell phone from my back pocket. After a quick type of his name in the search engine, I lean the phone over for her to see. Jovi instantly gasps and snatches the device from my hands. With her mouth agape, she looks through the photos and social media posts, disbelief growing with every passing scroll.
“Holy shit,” her voice barely whispers as I remove my cell from her loose grasp. “I knew I recognized him from somewhere! I saw the photos of him playing strip poker with Meegan Malone!”
I sneer unconsciously.
No! I'm not jealous! We've spent more time together than they did. We've seen each other naked. I'm willing to bet I've had more orgasms from him than she had. The only thing I'm jealous about her having experienced won't matter by the end of the night because I will know exactly what that's like as well.
“Yeah, he's got a fetish for trouble,” I say at the same time he rounds the route for his second lap.
This time he lifts his hand to wave and I give him a small one in return.
“Is that what's bothering you? The fact that he usually spends his time with actresses?”
Her question redirects my eyes back to her. “And underwear models. Singers. Athletes. Artists. Not to mention other members of royalty.” Doing my best to battle back the bitterness, I snap, “Like I said earlier, he can have literally almost any woman he wants, and he's still slumming it with me. I didn't think I'd have to worry about saying goodbye because I swore he'd already be gone from my life by now.”
Especially given the fact he didn't get to sleep with me on our first or second date.
There's no immediate retort from my best friend. The crowd cheers in waves as people they recognize jog or walk by and the winter wind whispers more ferociously than it has all week.
“And now that he's not, you don't know how to handle it. You don't know how to say goodbye because you don't want to.”
I press my lips together.
“You're afraid he's going to forget all about you when he gets on the plane tomorrow and no matter what he says or does, you've already convinced yourself that that's what's going to happen. That that's how all this is going to end. That this whole week is going to be thrown into the bucket of crazy college moments you don't believe actually happened.” She bumps into me to get my attention. When I look at her, she gives me a kind expression. “But it did happen. And he's not going to forget about you as easily as you're thinking. This is the happiest I've seen you since we met, Brie. Enjoy...whatever the two of you have and remember you're actually special in comparison to all those women who were just conquests. You don't have to have a special title or fancy job or strut around half naked to grab or keep his attention. He's in love with who you are, not what you look like or how your jewels match his.”
“You're proud of that jewel comment, aren't you?”
“Little bit.”
I shake my head and face the runners again. “And he's not in love with me. No one falls in love that fast.”
“I did.”
Okay fine. No 29-year-old guy who has made a sport of sleeping with his pick of the world's finest women would. Also, no intelligent 27-year-old woman. She wouldn't either, even if he makes her laugh like never before, smile like her troubles can actually be fixed or scream in unwavering pleasure she had only witnessed on Showtime Original series.
Kellan rounds his third lap. Like he can't control himself, his eyes gravitate to mine, which is when I playfully stick my tongue out at him. He chuckles, shakes his head, and returns the gesture.
“Yup...” Jovi whispers matter of fact. “Totally in love. Question is...what are you gonna do about it?”
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
***
The hole in the wall restaurant around the corner from Kellan's hotel has the same homey feeling that many of the other places downtown do. While the wooden décor itself isn't unique, the barrel style tables and corners of the bar are what give it the little touch of individuality required to survive in this city. The bar itself is home to a multitude of common and uncommon beers on tap, including Kellan's favorite.
Merrick drapes
an arm around Jovi. “So who won?”
“Wasn't a race,” Kellan replies as the waitress places a glass of beer in front of him.
“Thank God for that,” Hugh states. “We would've raised less money.”
I know what you're thinking. He definitely looks like a young Patrick Dempsey.
“Did you raise much?” I ask, reaching for the beer being offered to me.
“Very much,” Hugh assures cheerfully.
“And whatever they raise from other donors at this run, I always personally match,” Kellan informs.
“What happens if they raise a million bucks?” Merrick questions skeptically.