by Roy, Chelsea
Brent’s heart was racing uncomfortably in his chest. He had the answer he’d been seeking for years – why Aimee hadn’t returned to him. It was so simple and so complicated all at once. It was useless wondering what would’ve happened. ‘What ifs’ never solved anything but he knew in his gut he would have tried to make it work.
“You did make a mistake,” he managed to say. She nodded, her mouth turned down at the corners.
“I’d give just about anything to undo my mistake. But I can’t. The only thing I can do is move forward. And hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.” Her eyes dropped from his and her chin dipped down. “But I completely understand if you can’t.”
Brent didn’t want to say things to Aimee that he didn’t mean. A large part of him felt so damn angry at her for not believing in him or the strength of their love. Another part of him wondered if his success would have been the same if he’d worried about putting her through college and having to take care of a young baby. Would their relationship have even survived it? There was no telling how their lives would have turned out and maybe that was the ultimate rub. He had been robbed of the chance to find out.
“Have you been with anyone else?” He shot out at her before thinking. Her gasp was audible in the small space. He couldn’t help feel angry about every last thing he had missed out on.
“That’s what you’re worried about?” She asked him incredulously. “After everything I’ve seen in the tabloids about your sex life, you feel like you have the right to ask me that question?” She shook her head and turned to look out the window. Brent’s hand shot out and captured her chin, forcing her to turn back to look at him. He didn’t care how irrational his question seemed to her.
“I wasn’t raising a fuckin’ kid. I was on my own with zero responsibilities. I think my question is a pretty damn legitimate one.” Brent knew he was using the Brenna as a way to find out about Aimee’s life. The truth was, he was possessive as hell. His question had nothing to with who Brenna had been exposed to and everything to do with his feelings for the woman sitting beside him. It might make him a hypocritical asshole but he never claimed to be perfect.
Aimee exhaled noisily. “I never brought anyone around Brenna that I didn’t think would be good to her,” she said defensively. Brent snorted.
“That doesn’t answer my question babe.” His eyes roamed over her face searching for answers. “How many were there?”
“One that I cared about enough to bring home to meet Brenna.” Brent opened his mouth but Aimee held up her hand. “If you’re truly asking for Brenna, then that’s the answer you get.” Brent scowled down at her. Damn her for her insight.
“And if I’m asking for me?” He responded grudgingly.
“Are you?” She pressed. Brent sighed heavily.
“Yes,” he admitted. “It makes me crazy not knowing.”
“Then, if you’re asking how many men I’ve been with besides you, you could add two more,” she told him calmly. Brent slumped back, the cool leather seats of the limo doing nothing to temper his overheated body. He hated like hell there had been three other men, couldn’t stand to think of them touching a body he’d long thought of as his. Jealousy stabbed through his chest like a hot poker.
“I don’t know if I can do this with you,” he told her honestly. “Look, you had a choice. You could’ve come to me at any time. Instead you chose to be with other men and not me. I didn’t choose any of this. If it had been up to me, I would’ve been with you the entire time.” His head tipped against the back of the seat and he let out a sigh. How had he thought he would be able to do this with her? He must have been fucking insane.
The seat shifted and Brent’s body jolted when he felt Aimee’s hands land on his thighs. His eyes slid closed and he let her wedge his legs apart with gentle hands. He felt a tug on his spiked belt and heard the rasp of a zipper. His breath hitched and he refused to look at her, keeping his face averted. He wasn’t a psychiatrist but he was certain Aimee was using their physical attraction as a way to reconnect with him and it was working, damn her. His traitorous cock was stiff as a board in his jeans. Unable to resist her, he shifted slightly so Aimee could tug his jeans and underwear down to just past his ass.
“Oh…fuck!” She exclaimed softly.
Brent knew exactly what the source of her surprise was. “You like it?” He couldn’t help the cocky tone of his voice.
“You got pierced?” She asked breathlessly, even though the evidence of what he’d done was staring her in the face. He nodded, remaining silent. He’d gotten the apadravya piercing about five years ago and hadn’t regretted even once. The tug and pull on the piercing during sex caused sensations that were indescribable.
Aimee’s hands moved to his hip bones and he tensed in anticipation. Brent was stunned when he felt the wet heat of her tongue swirl around the head of his cock and his entire body jolted as a shock of electricity ran through him when she took the tip of him into the warmth of her mouth. His balls immediately tightened up and he groaned when she flicked at his piercing. Her hands pressed his thighs even further apart and she sucked half his length into her mouth. Aimee was a fucking goddess at this and he was helpless to stop her.
Brent wanted to pretend she was a nameless groupie sucking him off. He wanted it to be anyone other than Aimee because then he could get off without any guilt or worry about what would come after. Blowjobs in the backs of limos were a fairly common occurrence for him, but this time everything was different because it was Aimee sucking on his cock. He couldn’t stay disconnected from what was happening with her because there were feelings involved. He was more aroused than he could remember ever being, even though he knew this was the last thing they should be doing.
His hips pumped up to meet her sweet, talented mouth and his hands fell onto her shoulders. Brent wound his fingers through the silky strands of her dark hair. He couldn’t prevent the groans from escaping his mouth as she fell into the perfect rhythm of suction and stroke. Every fantasy he’d had about her was coming to life in this very moment. The head of his dick was bumping the back of her throat and he was certain nothing had ever felt so good. He tightened his hands on her shoulders as her fingers firmly cupped and tugged on his balls. Her lips dragged against his piercing and the orgasm he’d been able to hold off through sheer will crested and rolled through his body. Shot after shot of cum pumped down Aimee’s throat as Brent shouted his release. Aimee gentled her movements along his dick until she was barely sucking him, easing him down from the incredible high.
Brent reluctantly opened his eyes. He looked down at her as she let his softening dick slip from between her lips. She glanced up at him with swollen, damp lips and with hope in her eyes. Her hope was the equivalent to a bucket of ice water being dumped over his head, jarring him back to reality. Taking stock, he realized they were stopped in what appeared to be a middle-class neighborhood of well-maintained cookie-cutter homes.
“The limo’s parked. We must be at your house.” Brent’s voice sounded distant even to his own ears. Aimee’s eyes shuttered downward, hiding her expression from him but he knew she had to be disappointed. He knew it made him a grade-A asshole but he didn’t want to talk about what had just happened.
“Yes.” She finally mumbled. “We’re here.” She sat back on the seat while he adjusted his clothes into their correct position, hating that everything between them was so damn awkward. Anxiety rose swiftly at the thought of what waited for him just outside the relative comfort of the limo. He sighed heavily and flung the door to the limo open, letting in the muggy Las Vegas heat.
“After you,” he said.
CHAPTER FIVE
Aimee couldn’t help but feel like her heart was breaking. She was seriously regretting her impulsive decision to go down on Brent. She didn’t know why she had thought it would help anything. God knew he probably got blowjobs all the time and she didn’t give them enough to ensure his experience would be a memorable one. She cringe
d. Giving him an orgasm clearly hadn’t helped things between them. In fact, she was pretty sure it had increased the awkward factor tenfold.
Her hands shook badly as she dug through her small clutch for the house keys. Brent had every right to be furious with her. She was lucky he wasn’t hightailing it to an attorney’s office to present her with a custody suit. She felt like a complete idiot for hoping things would just flow together naturally. She’d been so happy earlier when he’d included her in the band excursion to the club. Ultimately, though, she didn’t think his invitation had meant anything. Sighing in relief when she located the keys, she shook them out and unlocked the door. Having Brent breathing down her neck was causing spikes in her anxiety levels and his silence made her nauseous.
Moving silently, she led him into her living area where a small table lap was lit, casting the room in a romantic glow. “So, I’m going to take a wild guess and say our plans have changed a little. Brenna’s home tomorrow afternoon. Are you comfortable staying here until then?” She asked, refusing to look him in the eyes. He didn’t need to know how hurt she was and how stupid she felt.
She was startled when Brent’s arms came around her from behind and his warm chest pressed into her back. “Nothing’s changed,” he rumbled in her ear.
Aimee shivered. She was surrounded by the smell of aroused male and it was a heady thing. But he was so wrong. Everything had changed and they both knew it. Still, she didn’t say anything as his hand slid around her hip and pressed on her belly. Her eyes slid closed as he worked the button fly of her shorts open. Apparently not everything had changed. She still wanted him badly.
She leaned into the curve of his arms and she felt his sharp inhalation of breath at her nonverbal consent. Brent’s lean fingers immediately slid into her shorts and past her lacy panties. His fingers slid gently over her swollen clit before pressing firmly inside of her. He encountered not even the slightest bit of physical resistance and Aimee was embarrassed by just how wet she was.
“Oh!” she exclaimed stupidly, hanging onto the outside of his arms. His strong fingers crooked inward, finding and stroking the slightly spongey spot that made her see stars.
“Christ you’re wet. Did sucking me off turn you on?” He asked. His lips were directly next to her ear and his voice was like dark, velvety chocolate. She dumbly nodded her head, incapable of speech. His fingers slid out, over her clit, and back in again. The heat of them scalded her. She groaned. “I couldn’t hear that. Did I turn you on?” He pressed inward again and rubbed boldly.
“Yes, damn you!” She groaned as she pressed against his hand. She had taken some of the weight off her feet and felt like she was suspended by his wicked fingers, which were now moving gently inside her. Brent’s free hand anchored her hips against his and he ground himself against the seam of her ass. Despite the fact that he had just emptied himself down Aimee’s throat, he was hard again and Aimee pictured his thick length pumping in and out of her instead of his fingers.
“Do you want to come?” He asked her, nipping at her ear. He bit down gently on her lobe, causing shivers to chase along her skin. She clutched at his forearm, feeling the muscles contracting beneath his warm skin. Every one of her senses was firing and her body was on overload. Over the rough sounds of their shortened breaths, she could hear his fingers slipping in and out of her and knew she was embarrassingly wet. The desire she felt for Brent overwhelmed her and she knew she was being shameless as she rode his fingers.
Desperate for relief, Aimee tried to wedge her own hand in between his hand and her clit. Brent laughed and captured her hand. “No, no,” he chastised teasingly. He entwined their hands and brought them up against her chest, pressing her even tighter to him.
“Let me!” She cried out, angry that he wouldn’t let her go over the edge. She struggled against him and he made shushing noises in her ear. His thumb brushed down over her swollen clit and she cried out, shaking in his arms. Her legs were trembling so bad she wasn’t sure she could keep standing.
“Please!” She begged, almost sobbing. Brent finally took pity on her and rubbed his thumb directly over her clit again, putting pressure where she needed it most. The fingers inside her continued to gently rub and curl. Aimee rocked against him and he kept her pressed tightly to his chest. She was babbling incoherently, her release hovering just out of reach.
“C’mon baby,” Brent urged her. His slid their intertwined hands to her breast, his fingers finding her nipple and plucking it sharply. Aimee cried out again and felt her body tighten on his fingers. She clamped her trembling legs shut, trapping his hand between them as she shuddered. She rubbed against him just twice more before an incredible heat radiated through her body, finally releasing into a climax so profound that tears streamed down her cheeks. Brent murmured words in her ear as she rode the orgasm until finally she was standing limply in his embrace.
Heat washed over her and shame tore through her. She had just had meaningless sex with the man she loved. Her breathing hitched and she struggled not to beg him to love her. She stood motionless while he gently buttoned her shorts back up.
“Thanks,” she muttered shakily, as she pulled free of Brent’s embrace.
“That’s it?” Brent asked furiously. Aimee stood there, keeping her body turned away from him. She shrugged.
“That makes us even, I guess, so no worries. We’ve both been satisfied now.” She honestly had no idea what to say to him. She knew he didn’t love her and probably could never really forgive her. The only thing they had left between them was Brenna. She gestured toward the couch. “You can crash there.”
Keeping her eyes averted from him, she started from the room with the goal of getting to the sanctity of her bedroom before breaking down. She didn’t want to let him see how torn up she was over what had happened between them. Just as she hit the safety of her room, her arm was pulled backwards.
“What kind of game are you playing?” He growled at her. She trembled but kept her eyes on the floor. “And why the hell won’t you look at me?” He exploded.
Aimee pulled free from his hold. The irony that she was standing in her bedroom, alone with the only man she’d ever loved, was not lost on her. She finally turned her body toward Brent and lifted her tearstained face to him.
“I can’t play these kinds of games with you,” she choked out. “I get that you’re angry at me and you have every right to be. But it hurts me to be used by you for sex. I can’t do that.” A sob broke free. “I want to keep the memories of a Brent who loved me. Not one who used me to get off!” A dark look passed over Brent’s face and Aimee knew he was furious with her.
“You started this in the limo after I made myself clear!” Brent was all but yelling at her. Aimee shrank inward on herself. “How I felt was not a secret from you!” He was right and she knew it but it didn’t make the pain in her heart any less crippling. She had been so stupid.
“Starting things in the limo was my mistake. I seem to make a lot of those where you’re concerned,” she said. Hurt and shame battled for domination inside her and she cursed herself when her eyes filled with tears. “I’m so damn sorry.”
“Oh fucking hell,” Brent swore. His hand came up to his face and he held his forehead in an automatic reaction. Aimee numbly realized that it was the same hand that had just been inside her body, showing her incredible pleasure. Apparently Brent realized it too because he jerked his hand away and glared at it before dropping it back to his side. “Fuck!” He shouted. “Why the fuck didn’t you just come home?” He yelled.
Aimee watched helplessly as he exited her room, slamming the door behind him. Moments later she heard water running in the bathroom and knew he was washing her off his skin. She felt incapable of movement but knew she couldn’t stand there all night. Knowing it was stupid but unable to change her feelings, she wished they were back in their old apartment where Eric played the buffer. If he was here right now, he would be comforting Aimee even though she was in the wrong.
Moving slowly because everything seemed stiff and painful, Aimee stripped off her concert clothes. She methodically went about her nighttime routine. She took a quick shower to wash off the sweat from the club. She tied back her hair and moisturized her face. Everything hurt and she needed to find a way past that. Digging through her closet she donned a pair of her favorite pajamas. Brenna had picked them out last year. They were a soft modal material and were a light aqua blue. The pants draped way past her ankles and she usually felt like a pretty gypsy in them. Tonight she just took comfort in the fact that they were familiar and had been given to her by someone who loved her.
Taking a long, hard look at herself in the mirror, Aimee frowned. The woman looking back at her looked lost and sad. She didn’t look anything like the confident doctor and mother who normally resided there. Aimee wondered if she would ever get that person back. That person had held out hope that she would one day be free to be loved by Brent again. A sob flew out of Aimee and she watched as the woman in the mirror clutched at her chest, pain drawn across her features.
Turning away from the sight, Aimee hobbled to her queen bed, dropped down, and curled up into a tight ball. She had made so many wrong choices in life and they were all coming back to haunt her. Scenes from the past ten years flew through her mind one by one and each was more painful than the last. Her hands covered her face as she lay there, sobs tearing through her body as hope for the future slowly bled out of her.
CHAPTER SIX
Brent quietly eased the door to Aimee’s bedroom open. The muffled sounds of her sobbing had stopped about an hour ago but Brent hadn’t been able to sleep. As much as he didn’t want to care about Aimee’s pain, he did. He had known his non-reaction to the blow job cut her. He had calculatedly hurt her by getting her off with no emotion attached. He had wanted to hurt her as much and as deliberately as she had hurt him. He took no satisfaction from the pain he’d dealt out and instead felt like a guilty bastard for what he’d done.