by Roxy Mews
“I’m sure you’re going to tell me something brilliant with slurred speech. I should take notes.”
“I can be just as articulate when intoxicated as I am sober. So no, smartass. You don’t have to take notes. Just listen.” She took another drink. “I think you’re hot. You’re a ridiculously perfect specimen of man-flesh, and I have wanted to fuck you since you sat across the desk from me in your bank and tried to crush my dreams.”
This was not what he had been expecting. Brandon shut up and gave her the side-eye waiting for the “but”.
“You walked around my home, making it smell like your deodorant and aftershave. You brought a testosterone cocktail into my house, and I decided I wanted to take a sip. We. Had. Sex. That’s it. I know damn well that you don’t want me. That you couldn’t possibly date me.” She waved her hands in the air, and a bit of wine splashed on her otherwise spotless counter. “And you know what?”
He shook his head. He had no idea where this was going.
“I enjoyed fucking you. I enjoyed the sex. Your problem is…you can’t enjoy a little bit of afterglow without thinking about what comes next.”
“It’s kind of hard…” he started.
She interrupted with a snort. “I liked it better when it was. The blood flow turned off your asinine brain.”
He grabbed the bottle from her hands before she could take another drink. He was going to say the alcohol was what caused all this, but the smug look on her face was so frustrating, he took a drink and drained the rest of the merlot. He let the alcohol burn down to warm his belly and counted to ten as he placed the bottle in the sink.
“It’s difficult…” he started when the vein in his skull stopped pounding. “To not think about the future. That’s all I do all day long. I look at risk management. I have to decide if this contract is maintainable. If there is enough earning potential in the business plan, and I have to decide if the person presenting the project can pull it off. My whole day is all about the future, and trying to predict how it’s going to happen.”
Her scowl finally softened. “Wouldn’t it be nice to have a break from that?”
“Not knowing what’s coming next makes me feel out of control.” He had to admit. Most of his success was built upon his interpersonal relationship character flaws.
“You don’t have to be in control here.” She started toward him.
What the hell was she thinking? There was so much secrecy between them. This whole idea was awful.
So why, when she reached up and ran her fingers through his hair did his entire body scream, YES.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Felicity knew it was putting off the inevitable to run from her old life for this long. She knew it was stupid to think with all this publicity that no one would think to look into her past. But she’d lived in the moment for the past two years, and she’d never been happier. Knowing she had the ability to use her knowledge of tiny homes to help others feel that same bliss had her giving up what she’d protected for so long.
She’d given up the ability to disappear. When she’d come up with the idea for the tiny community, she’d drawn up details on a napkin she’d saved from a hot dog vendor that rolled through the park she was passing by.
It made her smile to write down her ideas. It made her happy. And all this freedom, made her happy too. She’d realized happiness came from the journey she took that didn’t have a final destination. Knowing she was living a life that she shouldn’t be was exciting in a rebel-way at first. Now, she saw the beauty of simplicity, and of friendship, and how happy she could be surrounding herself with people who had found their passion.
Grabbing his phone once more, she turned off all his notifications and alarms with a few quick swipes. He didn’t need to get stock information here. He needed to see the sun shine in from the skylight while he drank coffee with her tomorrow.
Felicity saw people find beauty in something new on a daily basis in this town. That was why she stayed in this place. That was why she came up with her business plan, and that was precisely why she was tugging off Brandon’s pajama pants for another taste of the passion they shared.
It wouldn’t work past the end of this month. Who knew if it would work past the end of the night? There was a good chance she’d end up sleeping on the couch anyway, but for a moment in time she was going to continue finding what made her happy. Brandon’s cock in her hand made her happy. Brandon’s cock hard again for her nearly had her weeping in pleasure.
She didn’t want to stop kissing him, because she knew he would start thinking again. But there was always another place to kiss a man that scrambled his brain. In a split second, Felicity dropped to her knees and swallowed him whole. His balls tickling her chin, she swallowed around his shaft.
“Fuck.”
“Mmmphmmsf.”
“Oh god. I have no idea what you said, but that was the best comeback ever.”
Her lips turned up at the corners for a second before she tucked them under her teeth to keep a smooth glide over his skin. Her tongue swirled around his swollen head and snaked around the tiny hole at the tip before she began to move her mouth and hand in tandem.
He was bucking against her and his balls drew up sharply. She pressed against the large vein on the underside of his dick to hold back the orgasm he was so close to having. When she released him with a pop, he was panting.
“Think you can live in the moment for a few more weeks?”
“What?”
She smiled. Before he could figure out what she meant she licked his head and stroked him.
“Do you think…” She ran her lips back and forth up and down his shaft before stopping again. “Do you think we could enjoy each other in this house, and let everything else fall away? I’m not asking for a relationship. I’m not asking you to leave. I’m asking you to fuck my brains out when we’re home. So…can you fuck me?”
“This is the craziest thing I’ve ever done.” He was fucking her hand and groaned as she licked him again. “But I can’t say I don’t want this. I don’t know what I’ll want tomorrow, but I can try and let that go for tonight.”
“I’m aware we both have secrets, Brandon, but I haven’t felt passion like what you just gave me…” She thought for a second. “Ever. Call me selfish, but I don’t want to stop feeling it before I have to.”
Felicity wasn’t honest about her past with anyone. She wasn’t honest about who she used to be or how she grew up, but she prided herself on being honest about how she felt now. She was shocked when she felt her eyes grow warm with the possibility of tears.
She saw the question in Brandon’s eyes, but she blinked and let him see not only her vulnerability, but her need. She didn’t know why, but she needed his body. She needed the connection they had. Whether it was him as a person, or him as a man, she wasn’t quite sure yet, but she knew she wanted him inside her, because it was that connection that felt like the most solid foundation she’d ever stepped foot on.
Without a word, he turned her and pulled up her skirt. She felt a wet spot in the material hit her back and remembered she’d been sitting in this very section of countertop not seconds ago. She was grateful for Brandon’s hands on her hips. Her knees were suddenly weak with the urgency she felt. It had to be now. Even if it was never again, she needed him now.
He pressed between her shoulder blades and pushed her forward until her breasts flattened against the counter. She could smell the sex they’d had and it had her whimpering as her pussy contracted. Her core still ached from where he took her, but she could handle anything as long as he did it again.
He massaged her ass with the palms of his hands, letting her butt spread wide. Then he was the one kneeling and she let him lick her. She pushed into his face so he could taste how ready she was. His tongue sank into her and even though she couldn’t catch the erratic rhythm, she tried to press him deeper.
“I’m hurting to get inside you again. Thank god, you’re ready for me.�
� He grabbed another condom from her purse.
It felt like an eternity waiting for him to get inside her. Felicity turned around to make sure he hadn’t changed his mind. He hadn’t. He stood there just staring into her. When he caught her looking, half of his mouth ticked up.
Grabbing her hips, he slammed into her. Felicity was grateful for the dish drying rack above them. She grabbed onto the closest slat of wood and hung on. She hoped he rode her hard enough to snap it.
He slammed into her three more times before he just kept his body close and leaned his bare chest over her back. One hand kept her hips pressed against him, and the other had a rough climb up her torso, over her breast, and finally to her neck. He tilted her head to the side and bit her ear as he told her, “I don’t know what we’re doing here, but I don’t want to stop either. Hold on tight.”
Felicity’s knuckles went white as she felt the wood dig into her palms. Brandon’s fingers dug into the soft flesh of her ass, and he pulled her whole body back onto his cock. He couldn’t be any harder. From his grip, to his cock to the filthy words he cursed into her ear through his teeth. She came in a heady rush, and screamed. The release was sexual, and emotional, and she felt freer than she’d ever been as he roared and slammed both of them into the counter.
They broke the dish rack.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Brandon woke up smiling. Normally when his lips turned upward before coffee, it was because he had a notification from his stock market app. He had been known to sport a grin when his 401k spiked after having moved to a new more adventurous investment program. But he hadn’t gotten any notifications about his savings programs this morning.
Felicity had turned them off. A few days ago he might have pitched a fit, but when Felicity’s white noise app on her tablet began to chime, and her breathing deepened and rose her chest as she began to wake up…suddenly, money was the last thing on his mind.
Brandon thought it would be impossible to make him think about anything other than his career or the bottom line on his net worth database. He’d been known to update it on days when his stock market dabbling paid off as well, but he hadn’t touched that recently, either.
Felicity stretched beside him. The sunlight twinkled in through the small windows she had alongside the bed, and she blew the hair out of her face. The woman wrapped her locks in a pony tail or braid every single night and every single morning there was a whole army of curls that had fought their way free.
Like yesterday, Brandon didn’t fight the urge and wrapped one of the curls around his finger.
“Good morning,” he said.
“It really is.”
Felicity didn’t hide from his gaze because she didn’t have makeup, and she didn’t dash off to the bathroom to hurry up and hide the dragon breath. She just leaned over and kissed his neck.
Brandon had his first ever hickey from this woman. He secretly hoped she was adding another as her lips tickled around his Adam’s apple and her nails scored his bare chest, making his nipples strain at attention.
He grabbed hold of her hand and raised it to his lips. He kissed each knuckle as her hand wrapped itself inside his own.
“We are completely out of food today,” he reminded her.
They hadn’t ventured out of the tiny house in two days and he knew they couldn’t live on a diet of coffee and gelato. It was all they had left. Besides the wine.
“We can have something delivered.”
“You don’t have an address.”
She winked over her shoulder at Brandon. “True, but I bet I know something else I could snack on until we feel like going out.”
In just seconds, residual morning wood sprouted into a full blown tree and Brandon let himself fall into Felicity’s arms. He couldn’t think of a better way to start the day. It was a good thing Felicity had a stash of condoms too.
* * * * *
They both couldn’t fit into the tiny shower stall. They’d tried, and it had been a hilarious failure, so Brandon let Felicity use the hot water as he boiled some of his own to make the coffee.
He stared at the open shelving around the kitchen. They hadn’t been able to repair the dish drying rack, so he’d used some of the sand paper he’d dropped from working on the steps and hit the rough edges instead.
He promised a new slotted rack would be next on his project list. Later. He’d thrown Tom a text and let him know he wanted a night off from wood working for the past two nights. Hearing Felicity hum in the shower, he couldn’t believe he still wanted more of her, and he shot a similar text to the carpenter before the water in the kettle even began to boil.
Tom sent back a simple thumbs up symbol. He’d asked why the first night, done a quick inquiry the second night. If he blew the carpenter off again tomorrow, he’d probably not get to finish the stairs. Brandon was just fine with that. He was enjoying his current activities far more.
The shower turned off as the steam from the kettle began to whistle. The thought of Felicity’s naked wet body being caressed by a cloud of steam… well, he nearly dropped the boiling water.
He shook his head at himself and put the kettle back on the burner. A shimmer on one of the shelves caught his eye. The thimble.
Felicity had grabbed it a couple times in the last twenty-four hours. She’d place it on her finger for a moment and then put it on another shelf somewhere in the house. It was the one thing she didn’t have a home for. Brandon had been behaving very well, by not asking about Felicity’s past, or the dress she had in the closet, which probably cost more than her whole house. So when Felicity opened the door and came out with a towel turban filled with hair, he figured he had behaved enough to ask.
“What’s the story with your thimble?”
Felicity’s smile evaporated. “We said we wouldn’t talk about anything personal.”
“So don’t make it personal.” Brandon grabbed the thimble and stuck it on his pinky. He held it high as he grabbed one of the chairs from the wall and sat. “Just tell me a story. You can make it up, or you can tell me the truth. I won’t know. Why would someone who loves tiny houses and order so much keep something so random in her space?”
Felicity grabbed the thimble from his pinky and stuck it on her thumb before she poured the water from the kettle over the Chemex.
He watched the coffee drip down with her and they sat in silence until they both had a fresh cup in front of them at the table.
Brandon was about to clear his throat to change the subject when she started talking.
“Once upon a time, there was a little girl who felt like she was never enough for her parents. She didn’t like going to the big fancy dinners, and she hated sitting still while all the grownups talked only about how beautiful her dress was. That girl found a friend who was more of a mother than the woman who gave birth to her. And one day her friend gave her armor.” Felicity paused to hold up the thimble she’d kept on her thumb.
They both looked at the dented metal.
Brandon kept quiet, so she could tell him whatever she was willing to share.
“Her friend said the armor would keep her safe.” Felicity’s eyes watered, but she kept the tears at bay. “Nan was the only one I had who really cared if I was hurt. She loved me for who I was, and it didn’t matter if I got dirty. She didn’t have much money, and when she died, they got rid of everything she had. But she left me my armor. I’m all about hanging onto good memories instead of material possessions, but I can’t throw this away.”
“You said she wasn’t your grandma. Was she a relative?”
Felicity kept the thimble on her finger as she wrapped her hands around her coffee mug and took a drink. “She was my nanny. But looking back, I should have called her mom.”
Felicity had a nanny growing up?
“What did your parents do for a living?”
That snapped her out of it. She stood up and put the thimble on what was left of the broken dishrack. “Want to see where something ends up if I
order it from Amazon?”
“You don’t have to tell me, I just…” He looked at the thimble. “I just thought we were talking.”
“I’ve had a lot of time to talk about who I used to be. I want to talk about who I’m going to be next.”
“And who are you going to be?”
Felicity hopped onto his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. She smiled, knowing he was dropping the subject. “I’m going to be the manager of a tiny house community. After I have a little fun with the local delivery service. How much would it take for you to answer the door nude?”
Brandon laughed. “If you can get them here with no address, I’ll pay for the food. I won’t answer the door naked, but I’ll help you cook dinner in just your apron.”
“Deal.”
Brandon watched her bound off and his smile faded. He wanted to know more about how she grew up, but if she wasn’t going to tell him, he’d have to take a page out of her book and let the sleeping dogs lie.
Picking up his phone, he jotted down “wealthy busy parents” and emailed the note to himself. That way if the dogs woke up, he’d have another piece of the puzzle. When his phone dinged and his note stared back at him, he just looked at it.
Then Felicity started singing along with the music she turned on. He realized he loved listening to her be happy. The note he’d taken wouldn’t do anything to make her happy. He deleted it before running up behind her and wrapping his arms around her. He forgot to plug his phone back in.
He didn’t even want to look at it. His fingers found the strip of skin between Felicity’s tank top and her pants, and her skin was soft enough that he didn’t want to worry about touching anything else for the rest of the day.
Chapter Thirty
Brandon Halston was the opposite of the man he’d always been when he entered Felicity’s home. Her home was his safe haven from who he had to be. He had no idea how she’d managed to flip that switch in his brain, but she had.
By whatever magic she wielded, he was able to pretend there. He was able to run away and never even have the desire to open his overflowing email inbox.