by London Hale
“No thanks.”
There was the frown again, this time as we walked out of the hospital and toward the parking lot. Without question, without even discussing the fact that I’d definitely be leaving my car behind—honestly, I didn’t particularly want to drive right then anyway—Brandon ushered me toward his Audi, opening the passenger’s door for me. I slid inside and stared out the front window, unmoving as he walked around and got in on his side.
“Genesis?”
“Hmm?” I glanced over at him in time to see his forehead crinkle with concern.
He reached across the divide between us and brushed a strand of hair back from my face, then leaned forward, coming so close his mouth nearly touched mine. His breath ghosted over my lips, his eyes studying mine, his heat washing over me. And there it was—that chemistry that had sparked to life only a week ago. He reached around me, but I couldn’t pay attention to what he was doing, too focused on his blue—almost gray, they were so light—eyes. How they studied me as if trying to solve something.
“What are you doing?” I whispered.
“Seat belt,” he said just as softly before he pulled back, clicking the belt into place.
How I could be so worried for my mom and feel so alive at the same time, I didn’t know. I’d never experienced anything like it before, didn’t know if it was to be expected. Something totally normal. Or if it was something else entirely.
He turned away from me, starting the car as if none of that had happened. As if I hadn’t nearly leaned forward to find out what his lips would feel like against mine. As if my nipples weren’t hard as stone beneath my shirt. Blowing out a breath, I stared out my window, certain if my mom had half an inkling about the kinds of things I’d thought about doing with Evie’s dear old dad, she wouldn’t have pushed me to stay with him.
I’d always known Brandon was hot, in a vague, Wow, your dad is totally a DILF, Evie, kind of way. It was something I liked to tease her about, but that was all it had been—teasing.
And then that night had happened.
The night of Evie’s graduation party—a mere week ago—when she’d needed my help to distract him while she finally went after Nate. I’d figured I’d do my due diligence as a best friend and suffer through an evening with her father to help her out. Turned out, there hadn’t been much suffering done.
For the first time in as long as I could remember, Brandon had laughed. And when he laughed, the whole room stilled. His entire face lit up, the small lines around his eyes crinkling. Then he’d talked to me. More than the way guys usually conversed with me—as a means to an end, only interested in getting in my pants. Brandon had talked to me like I was a person. Like he cared about what I had to say. Like it’d mattered to him.
Our apartment was all the way across the island from the hospital—which wasn’t saying much considering how tiny the island was. In no time at all, Brandon had the car parked along the curb and was at my side, opening my door before I could finish unbuckling my seat belt and grabbing my things. He followed silently behind me, no question on if he’d come up with me, waiting as I swung open the main door. His hand caught it above my head, holding it open for me as he gestured me inside ahead of him. I tried not to get distracted by the feel of him so close, how the scent of him surrounded me. Tried and failed. I wanted to turn back, bury my face in his chest, and inhale.
“Thanks,” I murmured, focusing on just getting up the steps to the apartment and not doing something with my best friend’s father that I absolutely shouldn’t do.
“Anytime.”
My shadow, formerly known as Evie’s father, followed me into the apartment, through the small dining area and living room, down the short hallway, not stopping until he was a foot into my bedroom.
I needed some space. I needed him closer. “I’m not going to escape out the window, you know.”
He stared at me for a moment, then with his voice a husky murmur, he said, “I just want you safe, Genesis.”
I could only blink at him, unable to comprehend what he meant by that. My brain was fried from the long day and the overabundance of emotions flooding my senses. Figuring my best bet was not to comment at all, I shook my head to clear it then grabbed a bag.
I ignored his presence as best I could while I quickly packed—shorts, a few shirts, a pair of jeans—but I couldn’t help wondering what he was seeing when he looked around my space. Did it look like a little girl’s room? I didn’t think so. It was bright and vibrant, the walls painted a deep plum. My room wasn’t big—just big enough for a bed and a nightstand, my dresser placed in my closet to save space—but it felt like home to me. The focal point of the room was my bed, just a full-size, but it had a mound of jewel-toned pillows decorating it, and a lavender mosquito net hung from the ceiling at the top.
As I stuffed a couple bras and a handful of colorful lace panties in my bag—Jesus, why didn’t I own any plain nude or white underwear?—I willed myself not to look at him. But, of course, I lost the battle. I glanced up to find him staring at the blood-red panties I was in the process of tossing in my bag. His focus was enough to still my action, my hand halting with the scrap of red lace still dangling between my fingers. At the pause, he lifted his gaze to me, and the look in his eyes nearly took my breath away.
Hunger. That was the only way to describe it.
I didn’t think it could get any more feral, and then he slid his attention to my bed, to the mound of pillows, his eyes seeming to catalog every square inch of it. And, if possible, his gaze grew even hungrier, his jaw ticking as he stared.
And then he blinked, the tension in the air evaporating, and it was like I’d just come out of a dream.
He cleared his throat, then turned toward the doorway. “I’ll just wait for you in the living room. Take all the time you need.”
If my nipples hadn’t been pebbled under my shirt, my chest flushed from his attention, I’d have sworn I imagined it all. But I hadn’t… The way my body was singing was proof enough of that.
I wasn’t a stranger to the attention of men. When my boobs decided to show up at fourteen, so did the guys. I’d been the participant in some awkward back seat fumbling, then some not-so-awkward fumbling, then some straight-up good sex. But I’d never, not once, been looked at the way Brandon had just looked at me. Like he could inhale me through his eyes. Like he’d starve if he didn’t get a taste.
Seemed I wasn’t the only one who’d had a change of heart over the past week. It looked like we had some things to discuss. And, well, if exploring whatever this was between Brandon and me was a good way to get my mind off my mom, all the better.
Evie’s house felt empty without her in it. I’d always known it was big, of course, but it had never really registered. Our laughter and fun had filled up all the empty places inside, making it seem more like a home than a museum. But now, with Evie’s things gone, her room not empty, but bare, it was different. It felt cold and unwelcoming, and I hated it.
I hated even more how Brandon had shut down after that moment in my bedroom. He’d barely looked at me as we’d left my apartment, and now, he was stiff as a board, his shoulders rigid and his back straight as he led me down the hall past Evie’s room and to another bedroom. Not his.
“Since it might be a few weeks that you’ll be here, I thought you’d feel most comfortable in the guest room instead of Evie’s. It has its own bathroom.”
Like an attached bathroom was what I needed to feel comfortable. Had he even noticed the tiny closet-sized one my mom and I shared?
“And, um, Ursula, the maid, comes on Tuesdays.” He glanced up at me but didn’t hold eye contact. “In the afternoon, in case you’ll be around then.”
“I work all day on Tuesday, so I won’t be here.” I sailed past him and dropped my bag on the bed, wanting—needing—to see if the reaction he’d had at my apartment was all in my head. I had the strangest urge to yank out those lace bras and panties and…taunt him with them. I didn’t know what
this pull between us was, but I wasn’t questioning it.
Before I could get the bag unzipped, before I could grab any of the offending garments, he coughed then mumbled good night, and it sounded like he’d bumped into the wall in his haste to leave. I turned my gaze in his direction just as the door closed behind him, the soft click of the latch echoing like a gunshot in the otherwise silent room.
And then it was just me. Alone in this too big house, without anyone to keep me company. In fact, I was pretty sure I’d just run off my only reprieve from isolation.
God, I probably had misread the tension in my apartment. On top of everything I’d had to deal with today, I now had the bitter taste of humiliation to add to the too-long list.
My shoulders sagged, the weight of the day bearing down on me, and I closed my eyes. I was exhausted, having spent hours at the hospital, fear and uncertainty and tension my only companions. If I’d lost Mom… God, I couldn’t even stand to finish the thought.
But she was going to be fine. The doctor—what was his name?—had said so. It’d take a lot of therapy, and she’d be in pain in the interim, but she’d be fine eventually.
With that thought comforting me, I mindlessly got ready for bed, changing into my tank top and boy shorts, before brushing my teeth in the en suite bathroom. I tried not to think about the events of the day as I pulled my mop of hair up on top of my head, securing it in a messy bun with an elastic before flipping the light switch to bathe the room in darkness. I stumbled my way toward the bed, hating the new space I’d only been in once before, years ago. Hating how isolating it felt. Brushing aside the gnawing in my stomach, I slipped under the covers and stared at the ceiling, listening to absolute silence. The loneliness almost crushing me.
Red. My entire world suddenly revolved around red. Red hair, red lips, and red fucking panties. Lacy and nearly see-through, they’d hung from Gen’s fingers like a cape in front of a bull. Teasing me. Egging me on to…what? Throw her on that purple bed and fuck that sweet, young pussy? Was that where my attraction was headed? It certainly seemed that way when we’d stood in her little bedroom, a pair of deep red panties making everything in the world disappear except the need to find out what they looked like on the woman holding them.
Walking out of her bedroom had been one of the hardest things I’d ever done, and not just because the sight of those panties had turned my cock to motherfucking steel. No, the mental part was harder to deal with. Convincing myself to stay strong against the pull. Even when those panties—those hot, red calling cards of sex—had been practically waved in my face, I’d resisted. It’d been a long fucking time since I’d done anything more than the most cursory of sex acts. Walking out of that room should have earned me a damn gold medal in control.
I’d run away from Gen, needing space, giving myself time to calm the fuck down. And I was still running. Hiding, really. In my own house. I was also far too sober considering how long my day had been. It was time to change a few of those facts.
I crept out of my bedroom, regretting walking out the door as soon as I took a single step. Trouble was coming; I could feel it. But there was no way I was sleeping yet. Not with red constantly dancing behind my eyes and making my hands itch to touch. I swear, the girl in the guest room had purposely teased me by picking the brightest, most intriguing panties in her drawer. Never mind the other bits of lace and satin I had noticed as well. I never should have followed her into her bedroom. Shit, I never should have agreed to let her stay with me without Evie home as a buffer. But that ship had sailed.
I headed straight to my office on the first floor, needing the whiskey I kept there. I figured I was safe in my own home seeing as it was well past midnight, but I was wrong. So very wrong. I poured a whiskey into a rocks glass and took a sip before it hit me. Sounds. Someone else was awake. I should have ignored the temptation, but it was impossible, so I followed the sounds, curiosity a heavy yoke around my neck. The television was on in the back family room, the soft blue light pulling me in. Dragging me back there. To the only person who could have been watching.
Gen looked up the second I walked in the room, and my goddamn cock betrayed me at the sight. She was half naked, wearing only a thin tank top and some sort of tiny, tight shorts. What was she trying to do? Kill me? Did she not understand how long her legs looked in those things? How her full breasts pushed at the ridiculous fabric of her top? How much I wanted to bury my face between her legs and see just how soft those shorts were?
As she stared at me, waiting me out, I took a sip of my whiskey to resettle my thoughts.
“You’re up late,” I said when I pulled the glass away from my lips. The burn felt good, calming. Made me feel invincible to the seductress on my couch.
The woman—girl, just a girl—looked at me like I was something on the menu. My invincibility went up in flames with a single once-over. She didn’t stop until she’d dragged her eyes all the way down my body and halfway back up. Stopping quite noticeably on my very hard, very needful cock.
“It was too quiet. I couldn’t sleep.”
I nodded when she finally forced those eyes back to mine, swallowing another sip of whiskey merely as a distraction. I should have left. I should have turned around and run back to my room. I should have been a responsible adult, but I couldn’t. Gen looked so small as she sat in the dark with light from the television bathing her features. I couldn’t leave her like that.
“What are you watching?” I approached slowly, giving myself time to calm the fuck down.
“Gilmore Girls, my mom’s favorite.” She shrugged and flicked her eyes to the screen. “It’s dumb, but it makes me feel closer to her.”
“Can’t say I’ve ever seen an episode,” I said as I took the seat next to Gen. I wanted to be a better man and give her space, but the whiskey tasted too good and she looked too delicate for me to stay far away. Lonely, almost. I knew that feeling, knew it well. I’d committed myself to raising Evie after her mother left, which meant keeping all relationships at the friend level, never letting a woman into my life who could upset my daughter, and working myself to the bone to take care of her. Loneliness had hounded my ass for almost two decades. But I wasn’t alone right then, and neither was Gen.
I licked my lips as she moved closer, noticing the shiver that seemed to crawl up her body. “Are you cold?”
“Yeah. It’s a little chilly down here.”
I reached behind her for the blanket hanging along the back of the couch. “Here.”
“Thanks.” She pulled the fabric around her, covering herself from my greedy eyes, thank fuck. But then she tossed one side over my lap. Joining the two of us. Even moving closer so we could both be covered.
“What are you doing?”
“Sharing. Like you should be.”
“And what is it I should be sharing?”
“Whatever you’ve got in that glass.”
I coughed and shook my head, holding the glass closer to my mouth as I readied for another sip. “You’re too young.”
“I’m old enough to vote, get married, and have sex with whomever I want. I’m not that young anymore, Brandon.”
Her words—her blunt, accurate words—made my cock twitch. I shifted on the seat, unable not to turn at least a few inches toward her. To look into that face and see her pride, her strength, her independence. “You’re right. You’re not that young anymore, Genesis. But I’m still not giving it to you.”
She positively smirked, those eyes of hers going wicked, and I knew I’d made a mistake with my word choice. The possibilities of what I meant by “it” hung between us, weighty and meaningful. It could have been anything—the whiskey, a kiss, my cock. I wasn’t giving her anything but my attention, yet I wanted to. Wanted to so badly, I knew I’d be jacking off to this memory all fucking week. Knew I’d be hard every second I was in my own home simply because she’d been there as well. Hell, I almost looked forward to it.
No person had intrigued me as much as Gen d
id in almost twenty years. As dirty and wrong as I was, I still wanted her. Wanted to get her on her back and find out how wet I could make her. How much she’d tremble under my hands and mouth. Gen didn’t seem like the sort of girl who’d waited. She had a confidence about her, a sensuality born of comfort around members of the opposite sex. As much as I hated knowing she’d given herself to others, I liked it, too. I wanted to show them up. Show her how a real man could take care of her pussy. I wanted to make her come until only my name fell from those cock-sucking lips.
Staring into her eyes, I took a sip of my whiskey, swirling the dark liquid as I pulled the glass away. My own cape hanging before the bull. My turn to tease.
Gen’s eyes stayed locked on mine, ignoring the glass. Or so I thought. “You’re really not going to give me a taste?”
Yes. I’d give her everything. All of me. Every fucking inch over and over. “No.”
She curled her legs under her, rising slightly onto her knees. Looking me square in the eyes as she leaned closer. “What if I come take it?”
Fuck me. I couldn’t resist that voice, that look on her face. That refusal to back down. I dropped a hand to her hip as she leaned across me, and I kept my mouth shut. She locked her eyes on mine as she pressed her breasts to my arm and stretched. Her scent surrounded me, and the warmth of her skin scorched across mine. I was completely under her spell, at her mercy.
With a swipe of her tongue to her bottom lip, she took the glass from my hand. I was helpless to resist her, so I let her grab my drink. Let her wrap her fingers around mine and pull the glass right from my hand. My cock practically wept as my now empty hand found its way to her shoulder, as she brought the glass to her lips and took a sip. And motherfucking hell, did I long for my tongue to follow that whiskey past her lips. I needed to taste her, to know how Gen and the smoke of whiskey went together. I needed, and goddammit, I couldn’t keep resisting.
I rubbed my thumb along her collarbone, unable to deny the feel of her skin against mine. “Good?”