by C Bradley
Shifting on the bed, trying to alleviate the ache brewing, I feel a breeze against my wanton sex. Soon, Brody’s fingers begin again, ascending and descending slowly, his thumbs digging into my muscles in a circular motion.
“Brody,” I gasp. “Please.”
“What do you want, Hannah? Tell me.”
“Touch me, ugh just touch me.” I open my eyes, and I’m welcomed by the most beautiful sunset streaking the sky in pinks, oranges, and deep blue hues.
“Beautiful,” Brody murmurs.
“Sunsets here are always my favorite,” I confide.
“I wasn’t talking about the sunset.” His fingers brush against my naked lips just before he cups my ass, giving it a firm squeeze. “Hannah, my self-control is damn near fucking gone.” He growls.
Giggling, I prop myself up onto my elbows, gazing at him over my shoulder. “Brody,” I whisper, as I turn and sit up, my nakedness on full display. “Is it gone yet?” Quirking a brow, I motion for him to come closer, and he pounces on top of me, cradling my head in his hands, before devouring my mouth with his. “More,” I beg, spreading my thighs and hooking a leg over his to accept more weight from his body, forgetting the pain of my burnt skin, brushing against the sheets.
“Fuck me,” he growls, causing a chuckle to bubble up my throat, and he pulls back with a questioning look marring his face.
“Condoms,” I mutter against his bronzed skin, pulling the drawer to my right open.
“I cannot believe I’m hesitating right now, but are you sure?” He asks, compassion and something I’m too worried to take much stock in, clouds his gray gaze.
“I’m sure.” I rush out, as he sheathes himself.
Brody thrusts into me with a grunt. He’s so thick, so long, and he fills me to the hilt. We lie still our breath rushing out and mingling, staring into each other’s eyes, as my body adjusts to his size.
“Fuck, you’re so tight, so wet, and so perfect.” His lips begin to suckle my chest, neck, and face leaving no square inch of skin un-kissed, as he begins to pump painstakingly slow into me. I lift my hips, matching him thrust for thrust.
“Oh god, oh god,” I cry, digging my nails into his back, and pulling us even closer together. Between the weight of his frame, the fullness inside me, and my blistering skin rubbing into the cotton threaded sheets, I’m nearing a sensory overload.
“Let go, Hannah,” Brody groans into my ear and pistons into me harder, skimming his hand down my sweat slick torso, until reaching the apex of my thighs. Pressing his thumb against my swollen bud, my body hums with excited tension.
“Brody, god. Brody, yes, yes, yes!” I shout, writhing in my release, as he continues to pump into me, until he stills. I lock onto his face and gaze into his eyes, as he comes, and it’s so pure, yet so erotic, and I nearly come undone again.
“Fuck, you’re so damn gorgeous.” He whispers against my lips.
“Mhmm,” I mumble, as he kisses my forehead, before slipping off the bed to dispose of the condom.
“Speechless?” Brody’s chuckle reverberates against my chest, as he planks over my still flushed and panting body.
“And hungry,” I add, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him in for another kiss. “And I think I need more Aloe now.”
“Seriously, Banana...” Micah trails off, his voice laced with laughter, as he takes in my appearance. The shower was a great idea, and the sex was an even better idea. The bedhead could’ve been avoided, but Brody assured me it wasn’t as bad as I now know it must be.
“Christ, stop laughing you jerk,” Addison chuckles and hands me a hair tie.
“Thank you,” I offer, as I pull my hair into a messy bun at the crown of my head. “But why do you have hair ties? You don’t even have enough hair to pull back.” I acknowledge verbally.
“While that’s true, someone always needs them, and well,” Addison shakes her toned arm, “they are accessories.”
“Very logical,” I agree. “Oh hey, Micah. When’s the show start? Do I have time to make a plate?”
“No need, gorgeous. Here you go,” Brody murmurs into the crook of my neck, snaking an arm around my waist and presenting a plate in the other.
“Hmm, you’re a good man.”
“Fireworks are in thirty minutes, kids, so let’s go to the shoreline.” Micah walks ahead of us, leading Addison down to the beach where chairs and blankets are scattered around the property.
And just as Micah announced, the sky is littered with sprays of red, white, and blue explosions. My dinner discarded onto the sandy shore, I lean back into Brody’s chest, his legs providing a barrier against the cool breeze. When his arms wrap around me, I feel safe, whole, wanted, and needed. And most of all, I feel cherished.
“Thank you,” he whispers into my ear. A smile slowly grows across my lips, as I sink further into him.
“For what?”
“For falling, and for not hiding.”
“Hmm, don’t make me regret it, Brody. Please, don’t make me regret it.”
After what seems like endless hours of pacing the hospital halls, a doctor approaches the waiting room in surgery scrubs with his eyes looking anywhere but into my own.
“Mr. Lucas?”
I slowly rise, wordlessly and meet him halfway. It’s been one hell of a weekend. From the barbeque at Micah’s with Hannah, to us finding a connection, a passion that I’ve never experienced, and the harrowing call I received mere hours ago from my Sunday workout at the gym. It’s as if life went from spinning at a deliriously fast pace to slow motion. The physical and emotional whiplash is almost crippling, but nothing could have prepared me for what was about to happen, even if I did see it coming.
“Mr. Lucas, I hate to have to deliver this news to you, but unfortunately, even given all our efforts, Sarah and Robert didn’t survive. The damage was far too great, even before they arrived.” He reaches his arm out, placing his hand on my shoulder. My assumption is it’s some sort of “consoling technique,” which clearly doesn’t do a fucking thing. The dull ache in my chest worsens, now mixing with full-fledged panic, as I fully register what the doctor has said.
My parents are gone.
Dead.
Taken away all too soon.
A million childhood memories flood my head, turning the single picture memories into a view master production. I feel my face go slack, and mouth fall open in an attempt to respond. Gripping my chest, I sink slowly down into the chair.
The doctor begins to walk away, but I manage to croak out, “Doc, I don’t understand. They were both young and healthy.” I try to swallow the bulging lump rising in my throat.
The doctor signals towards the desk for a nurse to come over. “Mr. Lucas, both of your parents were unresponsive upon arrival. We’ll perform an autopsy, but at my preliminary discretion, I’ve determined that blunt force trauma was the cause of death. Most likely, it happened upon impact. We did everything we possibly could to revive your parents. I’m very sorry for your loss.”
The nurse approaches and hands me a plastic cup filled with water. Thanking her, I take the cup from her hand and manage a half nod, before lifting the cup to my lips.
“Is there anything I can do for you?” He asks, glancing down at his clipboard then back at me.
Not unless you can revive the dead.
He goes silent, hoping for a response from me, then continues, “Is there someone we can call, perhaps? We’ll need you to officially identify both bodies, so we can start processing paperwork to have them transported to the funeral home of your choosing.”
For fucks sake, give me a goddamn minute to process everything.
“I’ve already phoned my sister, and she is on her way. I would like to inform her, before we have to identify their bodies.” Shaking my head, I realize that I’ve just vocalized one of my greatest fears. The doctor and nurse nod in unison, making their way back to the desk, as I hear a familiar voice shout from behind me.
“Brody!”
“I got here as soon as I could. I was stuck on the highway. There was some car rollover that looked horrible, and traffic was backed up for miles,” she trails on, making corresponding hand motions around her head. “Craziness.”
Trying to muster up the courage to finish my sentence, I know I’m about to break my sister’s heart. As an older brother, I’m meant to protect my younger sibling, and Nina’s the baby. She is a prime example of a model child. Perfect grades, perfect athlete, and perfectly popular. When we were younger, she was smart enough to stay out of the trouble that I always managed to find myself involved in. She is my opposite in many ways.
“Nina, the accident it was Mom and Dad.” I instinctively close my eyes, fighting back tears.
“Which room are they in? Can we go see them?” Her voice becomes shakier and panicky, as each word is delivered to me.
“Nina, I don’t know how to say this...” I mumble, as her eyes search my face, widening when she notices my cheeks slicked with tears.
Tears start streaming down her face, “Brody, please don’t say it. NO!” She tugs at my shirt, pounding a fist against my chest, before her body goes limp in my arms.
“Nina, they said they did everything they could, but they couldn’t bring Mom and Dad back. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry,” I squeeze her tight, knowing if I let go, she’ll end up crumpled on the floor.
A few hours later, we pull into the long driveway of my parents’ house, and there is now a somber feeling that’s never been present along this path before.
“Let’s grab the paperwork we need and get out of here. I can’t be here right now.” Nina mumbles, closing the passenger side door of my truck, before making her way up the stone path to the front door.
Unlocking the door and pushing it open, I throw the keys on the hall table. The familiar routine brings me back to my high school days of strolling in way past my curfew, only to be scolded by my father.
Nina and I make our way through the house and into our father’s study. “Do you know the code to the safe?” She asks, while shuffling papers around on the desk.
A slight smile cracks, “Nina, how do you still not know the code to the safe?”
“Because I’ve never broken into the safe, Brody!” Rolling her eyes, she continues to shuffle papers around.
I remove the framed picture from the wall, just behind the large mahogany desk, where the small safe is firmly situated in the wall. “It’s their wedding anniversary.” I state, pressing in the code and opening the safe.
She pauses her search and glances up at me, “Did you find it?”
I hold up a very large manila envelope, packed to the brim with paperwork. “I believe this is it. Let’s grab a pizza on the way to my place. It’s going to be a long night.”
Grabbing my cellphone from my back pocket, I notice a missed message from Addison, asking about funeral arrangements. As I type my response, a message from Hannah flashes. I quickly respond to both texts and tuck the phone back into my pocket.
It’s been a week since I’ve seen Hannah last. Since my parents passing, I’ve taken a short leave from work and the gym. Addison is helping with the funeral arrangements, and Nina has temporarily taken up residence on my pull-out sofa, while we firm the details of our trust funds and our parents will.
Addison: Hey, B. Micah can probably help you understand the legal mess. Give him a shout, or I will for you! His number is 555-5670.
Me: Thank you. Nina and I are so grateful for your help, Adds. You’re like a sister to us, and my parents loved you as well.
Addison: Aww, B! Don’t get all mushy on me. ;) Talk soon. Call Micah!
Nina enters the kitchen, as I tuck my phone away again. Holding up a brown paper bag in hand, she grins. “Chinese for dinner? I’m getting sick of pizza and beer. That stuff goes straight to my ass,” she murmurs, removing several take-out boxes from the brown bag, before grabbing a bottle of Pinot Grigio and a bottle opener.
“Chinese sounds great. Pizza and beer are the norm for this guy, Nin.” I chuckle, reaching into the cupboards for two plates.
“Your place definitely looks like a bachelor pad and smells like feet. When’s the last time you cleaned this frat house?” She snickers and begins picking random food items from the containers, placing them on her plate. “I pity all the poor women you bring back here.”
“Woman,” I correct. “Just one.”
A look of surprise crosses her face. “One? Wait, how are we just now tackling this topic?”
“She’s special Nin; I’m drawn to her like a magnet. Normally, I’d get bored after a few weeks, or in most instances a night, but I feel like I can’t get enough of her.” I glance at her face, refilling her wine glass, and then my own.
“I’m impressed big brother. I wasn’t sure you were the one-woman man type.” She says between bites. “Does this mystery woman have an identity?”
“Hannah,” my lips curve into a momentary smile thinking of her.
“I SAW THAT!” Her voice raises an octave, as she shouts in excitement smacking her palm on the counter. “My lord, Brody. You’ve got it bad,” she states.
Responding with a firm headshake and an eye roll, “You’re losing your mind, Nin. Just shut up and eat your food.” An all too familiar ache in my chest starts to creep up, and I instinctively rub it.
Fuck, it’s only been a week, but I miss Hannah.
Sipping her wine, she hides her wide grin behind her glass, “Whatever you say big bro, whatever you say.”
It’s been a week since the ever so eventful Memorial Day weekend. Although I haven’t seen him very much lately, I would say that we’re dating, even though we’ve not identified it as such. No, we’ve not stayed over with one another, but 3 a.m. trips up or down a flight of stairs is far from abnormal. It’s easy. It’s fun. It’s low maintenance and stress free, or so I thought, until the memo I just opened causes a splatter of confusion and hesitation.
To: Ms. Scott, Director of HR
From: Jacob Miller, Building Manager, JLC Properties
Date: June 22, 2017
Re: Office Space
Ms. Scott,
We regret to inform you that the space for you and your team is in the status of delayed completion. Due to unforeseen circumstances, the transfer back to your remodeled offices will resume in early to mid-July. Should you have any questions, please feel free to reach me at 919-999-1298.
Warm regards,
Jacob Miller
What in the hell? Why isn’t Brody and his team working for the next week or two? There’s no way vacation for everyone would be at the same time. No that wouldn’t be unforeseen. What the hell is the unforeseen circumstance? Sighing inwardly, I pull my phone from my temporary desk drawer and pull up our text conversation.
Me: Hey, is everything okay with your team? I just got a delay in progress notice.
Sex-on-Legs: Team is fine.
Wow what a response, I mutter to myself before replying.
Me: Okay, sorry to bother you.
Sex-on-Legs: Sorry, can’t talk. I’ll reach out later.
Okay, something is up. He’s never that abrupt or puts me off. Not that I’m needy, but damn, he’s usually a touch chatty. Maybe he’s sick.
Or he’s found a new play toy.
Slipping my cell back into the middle drawer, I decide I might as well address the team, as a whole. I make my way to the front of our temporary workspace and clear my throat, gaining the attention of my seven staff members.
“So, I just received a notice from Jacob. Looks like our anticipated move at the end of the week, beginning of next week, has been pushed back and is now scheduled for early to mid-July.”
“Can’t your boyfriend move this along?” Jessica, one of my team lifers who’s been here for 26 years, gripes.
“Well, first off, I
don’t have a boyfriend. However, the person to which you’re referring to, Brody, has also apologized for the delay. Second, having a filing cabinet a mere two feet away from you, as opposed to at your immediate workspace, isn’t going to kill you off for having to wait another couple weeks.”
The office breaks out into a hushed laughter, and I smile with them. Managing a team is tough. Managing a team of human resource professionals is damn exhausting. It’s like babysitting the kid that knows all the rules, but he or she refuses to heed to them.
After a twelve-hour shift at the office, I swing my gym bag over my shoulder and head out of my apartment in my gray spandex capris, neon yellow sports bra, and a men’s tank top that’s two sizes too large. Maybe a long, hard workout will curb this weird feeling.
I jog to the gym to burn off the anxiety that continues to creep under my skin. I move straight to the leg press, before making my way around all the equipment and ending up on the hack squat. After maxing out my bearable weight and repetitions, my legs feel like warm jelly, as I head to my locker.
Briefly cooling down and drenching my parched throat with ice-cold water, I stretch thoroughly and make my way back home. Walking, who would have thunk it, is more exhausting than running. But let’s face it, even the thought of running right now has my walking sticks screaming in protest. I scan the parking complex, as I approach the apartment buildings. Not that I could fight or outrun a predator right now anyway, but a habit is a habit.
Huh, that’s Brody’s truck. Maybe I should go knock? Or maybe I should let it be? I go to war with myself up the first flight of stairs, slowing more each ascending step. Pulling my iPhone from the secure pocket on my thigh, I see only a few messages from Micah. No, you aren’t that girl, and you will not stop.
Once I round the corner, movement in the hall catches my attention. A tall, fit woman laughs loudly, as she crosses back over the threshold into Brody’s apartment and shuts the door. Passing quickly, I continue to the next stairwell, but catch the faint sound of his laughter in my wake.