by London Hale
I wasn’t sure if I was asking about my touch or the drink, but Gen didn’t disappoint in her answer. She rolled closer, her face barely an inch from mine as she set the glass on the end table. My hand on her shoulder dropped lower, my thumb brushing over the swell of her breast.
She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. “So fucking good.”
“Gen.” My voice sounded hoarse even to my own ears. I wanted to fight the desire within me, the need to touch. Wanted to rip my hand from her hip and her breast and be a better man by heading back to my bedroom where I could jack off alone. But I couldn’t. And by the way Gen moved into my touch, forcing my hand down so my thumb rolled over her hard nipple, she didn’t want me to either.
“Brandon,” she said, her voice a husky whisper. She tugged the blanket around us, wrapping us in a cocoon of darkness and warmth. An intimate little bubble where it was just the two of us.
I leaned forward, brushing my lips against her collarbone, tugging her tank top up until her bare breasts were exposed to me. Needing to see every piece of her. Surrendering to the dark and the heat and the girl. I flicked my tongue along her skin and breathed her in, almost moaning at the sweetness of her. The flavor was a tease, a light and airy bit of almost sugary goodness. It appeased nothing, though. I wanted to taste more, to lick every inch. To spread her legs and devour her. I wanted to demand she lie back and let me make her come, but she beat me to the demanding part.
Gen rocked forward, letting her lips brush against my ear. “You need to kiss me.”
She was right, so I did. I slid the hand on her hip up to cradle her head, tightening the other against her breast. Without breaking from the moment, I pulled her into me. Against me. Practically on top of me. My lips found hers a moment later, and I didn’t wait. I took. Not a slow, sweet first kiss. Not a careful, awkward one either. No, I kissed her like a man who wanted to own her. Kissed her hard and deep from the get-go, pulled her to straddle my lap, and devoured those fucking lips that had teased me for a week. She kissed me back just as hard, just as rough. The taste of whiskey on her tongue was even more of a treat for me. More of a turn-on. And when her hot, soft pussy landed on my cock as she straddled me, even with our clothing between us, I knew I was done.
“Gen.” I ground against her, taking. Too much taking. I didn’t want to take from Gen. She deserved more, deserved better. I wanted to give. So I twisted just enough to open her up wider, and I picked her up. She gasped and gripped my shoulders as if afraid I’d somehow drop her, that I’d let her go. She had no idea how far off she was from what I wanted to do.
I pressed the small of her back against the arm of the couch, keeping one hand behind her shoulders for support, letting the blanket shield us from the outside world. Holding her up as I kept her knees spread. Those tiny shorts became my nemesis, the fabric pulled taut across her pussy, the shadows too deep for me to see anything else. Didn’t matter—I was about to feel. I could save the looking for another night.
I moved closer, inching higher as I tucked a knee beneath me, licking along her collarbone once more. She tasted so sweet, so irresistible. So mine.
I slid a hand up her thigh, right into her panties and along the underside of that full, luscious ass. I wanted to grab it, smack it, bite it, but that would be for me. Only me. This was for Gen. I worked my hand farther, loving the way she relaxed as I teased the seam of her thigh, the way her hot little breaths burst against my forehead with every inch. She clung to my shoulder, one leg against the back of the couch, the other dangling off the edge. Open. Willing. Ready.
Finally, warm and wet met my fingers, and I groaned. “So fucking soft.”
Gen shuddered as I brushed a knuckle over her clit before sliding back down, her moan long and loud in our private blanket fort. Her hips jerked, then she stilled, breaths still heavy, body on edge. I wanted to push her over that. To watch her become nothing more than sensation and reaction. I wanted to make her scream.
“Ride me,” I whispered. I rose a little higher, changed the angle of my hand against her pussy, needing a taste so badly I could hardly breathe. “I want to feel you come all over my hand.”
Gen groaned as I licked over her nipple. Grabbed my hair as I sucked on it. Legs spread, half held up by the arm of the couch, head thrown back and her tiny clothes in total disarray, she was the ultimate temptation.
And I was giving in.
“You like my mouth on you? Or do you like my fingers better?” I bit her nipple, sucking harder as I teased her pussy with two fingers. Rubbing, stroking, biting, moaning all at once. She jerked and hissed, arching her back and rocking those hips over me. Just what I wanted her to do. “You have no idea how much I want to taste you, Genesis. Every inch. You’re so fucking wet right now, aren’t you? I can feel it. I want to bury my face in that sweet pussy and lap up every drop.”
Gen groaned, spreading her legs farther. “Oh God, do it.”
Fuck, I wanted to. But I knew if I got her naked I wouldn’t just be eating that pussy. I’d fuck her. I’d be unable to resist the draw of what I knew was going to be a tight, hot heaven, and I’d be inside her within seconds. So I resisted. Mostly.
I slid a single finger in deep instead, nearly coming in my goddamned pajama pants at how tight she was. Rocking harder, keeping the side of my thumb against her clit, I added a second finger, stretching her, wishing I could fill her with my cock. I let the blanket fall a little, let the blue light from the television shine on her. I wanted to see her come, needed it. Focusing solely on her pleasure even as my cock soaked a spot on my pajama pants. Didn’t matter—this was about her. About my Genesis.
“Come on me,” I said, pressing deeper, harder. Working her faster. She leaned back, arching her body, grabbing hold of one of her tits as she moaned and gasped. Close, so close. Her. Me. Her body swaying was practically hypnotic, the friction it caused almost enough to make me come for her. Under her. With her. Fuck, she was so beautiful, so warm and soft. So fucking sensuous. I couldn’t resist. I added a third finger, letting her adjust to the width, knowing my cock would be wider. She took it all, arching, rocking, and jerking as she hit the point of no return.
Gen threw her head back and moaned without holding back as she came. She was beautiful in that moment. So gorgeous, I almost lost all my control. The flush on her chest, the way she gripped her breast and bit her lip as she shook. Beautiful. Sexy. Hottest fucking thing I’d ever seen in my life. The blanket fell to the floor, baring every inch of her to me. Disheveled and debauched, sitting astride my lap, the hard ridge in my own pants obscene against her tiny shorts.
The ache in my cock grew deeper as I took her in, more painful. I wanted to slide inside her, wanted to fill her with myself, wanted to watch her ride me. Watch my cock disappear inside her. I wanted to fuck her more than I wanted to breathe, but when she came down, when she smiled up at me as if I’d done something amazing for her, she no longer looked like a wanton temptress. She looked…young.
Fuck, this girl was the same age as my daughter.
I grabbed her wrist as she stroked my cock over my pajama pants, unable to get that thought off my mind. “Stop, Gen.”
“What’s wrong?”
I shook my head, feeling sick. My gut twisting and burning as I pulled my hand from her shorts. “We can’t.”
“Can’t what?”
I pushed her to the side and stood, adjusting myself through my pants. “I’m sorry, but we can’t do that. I shouldn’t have pushed you like I did.”
“Pushed me?” she said, her voice shocked and possibly a little pissed, neither what I’d been going for.
“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” I headed for the hallway, needing to get away from the temptress behind me. “It might be best if we both get some sleep.”
“Brandon, what—”
“Goodnight, Gen.”
And I left. Feeling like a coward and a thief. Feeling like I’d just messed everything up, though whether it was from what
we’d done or how I’d left, I had no idea.
It was nearly noon before I woke up the next morning, the house still and silent around me, just like it had been until the early morning hours when the exhaustion had finally overcome me, and I’d fallen asleep. Confused, turned on, and…hurt.
There was no denying the fissure of pain that had crept in last night as I’d watched Brandon run out of the family room and away from me, like I was a succubus there to seduce him into giving me his soul.
Turned out, that hurt wasn’t going to go away with a few hours of sleep. Not when it was clear Brandon was gone, and I was all alone in the house. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he’d fled, probably at the crack of dawn, the very minute it would’ve been acceptable to arrive at the office. Though fled may have been too strong of a word. It was a weekday, and he had a job to go to. Maybe it was just like any other day, and he was merely getting a jump-start on his workday.
Right. His bailing had absolutely nothing to do with what we’d experienced together on the couch.
I’d never been a very good liar—to others or myself. Wore too much of my heart on my sleeve. I didn’t have time for bullshit, wasn’t interested in it, and I gave the same courtesy to others. I was pretty sure Brandon would’ve gone straight to the office after he’d practically sprinted from the family room, if doing so wouldn’t have been considered impolite. Didn’t matter that it had been one in the morning. I’d seen it in his eyes—all that mattered had been getting away from what had happened. Getting away from me.
And wasn’t that just an awesome new low I’d hit? Running someone out of their own house? Jesus. I knew I came on strong sometimes—had that been what happened last night? It wouldn’t have been the first time.
As of ten days ago, I hadn’t even given Brandon a second thought. Of course, I’d liked watching him hang out at the pool in his backyard, all that muscled perfection on display. But I’d liked it just as I liked checking out Instagram models—they were pretty to look at, nice to get my daily fill of eye candy, but nothing would ever come of that attraction.
And now…now, I couldn’t keep my mind off him. The funny thing was, the part of our interaction that had made me sit back and see him—really see him—for the first time had been the way he’d talked to me. About everything and nothing. Politics, world events, my favorite ice cream flavor, good books I’d read… Guys my age didn’t do that, and for once, it was nice to be valued for something other than my body.
He woke up my mind, made me take notice, and my body had followed. My body was on fire for him now. For the past week, I hadn’t been able to stop fantasizing about him. About what his mouth would taste like. If he’d be gentle or rough when he played with my breasts, sucked my nipples. If he’d groan or hum deep in his throat when he sank inside. If he’d be patient and play my body like an instrument, or if he’d be greedy and take only what he needed…
I let my eyelids fall closed, images from last night flashing in my mind. I could practically feel his breath across my breasts, the smooth, practiced thrusting of his fingers inside me. I could definitely still feel the way my pussy had been stretched—the tiny ache the only physical reminder I had that last night had actually happened.
But I had his words, too. He couldn’t take those back, no matter how hard he tried. He could run away. He could avoid me. He could even ignore me, but he could never pluck those words out of existence and put them back in his mouth. You have no idea how much I want to taste you, Genesis. I shivered in remembrance of him using my full name. Like it had meaning. Like I wasn’t just a faceless vessel with which to get off. I want to bury my face in that sweet pussy and lap up every drop.
Yeah. He could deny all he wanted, but I knew the truth. And sooner or later, it was going to come out again, even if I had to rely on every weapon in my arsenal and put them all into play.
So much for my arsenal.
It’d been two weeks. Two fucking weeks since that night in the family room, and I hadn’t seen Brandon once. Sure, he left me notes—incredibly impersonal notes—on the counter, made sure the fridge was full, even had some meals prepped and stocked in the freezer. He was coddling me like I was a child, and I hated it.
I wasn’t his daughter, and it was time he stopped attempting to force that idea on himself. I knew it’d be difficult to get something like that out of his head, but I also knew he’d been able to push past it at some point. Otherwise, that night never would’ve happened.
I glanced at the clock. Two hours remained of my shift at Sin, and then I’d head back to Brandon’s. I wasn’t even sure why I was excited to get home tonight. It’d be the same thing it had been the past two weeks. If he happened to be home—which he rarely was—his door would be shut tight. It might as well have had a giant padlock on it, a huge sign proclaiming stay the fuck away.
I was going crazy in the house, so different from my own. Too big and too quiet and too hollow. But even though my mom was getting better, was growing stronger every day, she still wanted me staying with Brandon. She didn’t have to spell out the reason she wanted me there, but I knew it was because she thought I’d be less lonely there while she was still in the hospital. Truth was, I felt lonelier while Brandon was in the next room than I did when I was entirely by myself.
But if she needed me to be there so she could focus on her rehab to get better, then that was what I’d do. I just hoped I didn’t go crazy in the meantime.
The bell above the door jingled, and Harper, Sin’s owner, called out, “Gen, can you get that?”
“On it,” I said, pausing from stocking the new display with today’s shipment. I’d seen more dildos than I could count, but I had to admit this one was a nice cock, modeled after a popular porn star. But then I thought of what I’d felt in Brandon’s pajama pants, and I knew he’d put the eight inches of veined, silicone perfection to shame.
I forced thoughts of Brandon’s cock out of my head and made my way to the front of the store, seeing a familiar head of almost-black hair. “Bailey, hey! Damn, girl, another one?” I asked with a laugh.
“Oh my God.” She giggled, closing her eyes as a fierce blush climbed up her cheeks. “It’s not normal, right? What kind of person goes through four vibrators in three months?”
“Um, the kind who isn’t getting laid regularly?”
“I wish it were just that,” she said.
Bartenders got a rep for being free therapists, but here was the real truth: in a town as small as Temperance Falls, one that prided itself on the wholesome image it liked to portray, there was no one you could trust more than the person selling you your sex toys. Which was why I knew exactly what her problem was.
“Hot Doctor still got the nanny all worked up?”
Said nanny groaned in frustration. “So worked up, it’s ridiculous. I’ve gone months before without getting any, and it never had this effect on me. It’s living in that house. The sexual tension might as well be a blanket I wrap around myself as soon as I walk through the door.”
I hummed in response, for the first time being able to empathize with every word that came out of her mouth. “I find myself in a similar situation.”
“Really?” she asked, drawing out the word. Perking up, she leaned toward me. “Any tips?”
Snorting, I shook my head. “I wish. He pretends I’m not even there. And that’s during the times he even bothers to come home when I’m not asleep.”
“Ahh, avoidance.” She nodded and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Sometimes I wish Josh would do that. Then maybe I wouldn’t be blowing through all the vibrators on the island. But with his kid, it’s kind of impossible.”
“Believe me, avoidance isn’t great.” I might as well have been a stranger renting a room in Brandon’s house for all the attention he’d been paying me.
“Okay, girls, it’s time to stop dicking around, and starting dicking around, if you know what I mean.” Harper came out of the back room, looking like a forties pinup star, an
d placed two bags on the counter, the shiny red of the lips of the logo vibrant against the stark black background. “You,” she said, pointing to Bailey, “are going to be able to power the whole goddamn island pretty soon with the amount of sexual energy you have building up. I mean, hot doctor and the nanny? You’re a porn script waiting to happen. And you”—she turned her gaze on me, her eyes narrowing—“don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’ve been these past two weeks. Honestly, girls, haven’t you learned anything from me? If the men won’t come to you, you go to them. And then you make them beg.” She smiled—though it looked a little evil, to be perfectly honest—as she pushed the bags toward us.
“What’s this?” I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me as I went over to peek. I moved aside the red tissue paper hiding the contents and got my first look at the vibrator inside—a brand-new model with ten different vibrating functions that I’d been waiting patiently to arrive. Glancing back at her, I raised my eyebrows in question.
The only answer was a smirk and wink tossed in our direction, before she turned around and headed toward the back room again. Over her shoulder, she said, “Make sure to do a thorough analysis of it, Gen. Hands-on experience to share with the customers and all that. And get out of here. What better time to try it out than when he thinks you aren’t due back home for another couple hours?”
Bailey and I watched her sashay through the red velvet curtain into the space separating the shop from the storage room and her office, our gaping mouths mirroring each other.
With a raised eyebrow in Bailey’s direction, I went around to the back of the cash wrap, grabbed my purse, then reached up and looped the bag’s handles over my hand. Shrugging, I said, “Can’t hurt, right?”
Maybe Harper was on to something. Brandon knew my schedule, knew when I’d be home and when I’d be otherwise occupied. Hell, I’d even fallen into a routine of going to see my mom—the same time every day. He knew when it’d be safe for him to be home, and when he needed to make himself scarce.