My balls pulled up tight as I smoothed her lace panties down over her hips and I saw her for the first time. Her pussy… beautiful, just like the rest of her. She wriggled in anticipation as I breathed on her. My tongue found her sweetness, slick and wet, delicate, and I groaned involuntarily as I swiped up, taking my first taste of her pink flesh.
“You go off,” I told her, my eyes finding hers again, “I’m right behind you.”
“Brody… yeah…” she sighed, and I dove in deeper, finding her opening, hot and wet and waiting for me. I tasted her, inside, out, and as I licked my way up to her clit, nudging at the firmness under her softness, she went off. She cried out, grabbing at my hair in fistfuls, holding me there as I took her in my mouth.
I sucked on her, hard, then caressed her gently, watching her reactions… and as she came—arching her back and gasping… then came crashing down, relaxing onto the couch—I could feel the walls falling down, shattering around us. Something opened in her as she looked at me.
She bucked a little as I licked her again, and I felt her soften… her big brown eyes watching me.
“Come here,” she said, breathing soft and fast.
I crawled up over her; her head was thrown back on the cushion, her long hair fanned out around her, and she was looking at me that way she did; the way she used to long ago. The way no other woman had ever looked at me… like I was the only man who’d ever mattered.
Her man.
She reached down, grabbing the length of my cock in my jeans and she squeezed, hard, rubbing up and down.
“Jessa… fuck, I’m too close,” I managed to say as we kissed in a desperate, clumsy frenzy. She fumbled with me, with my fly, which just made my dick jerk, tightening… “Fuck… I can’t even…” But she got my jeans open and clawed my underwear aside.
I blew on her stomach as she caressed me, gently, driving me fucking insane, and she writhed beneath me as I did it like she couldn’t get enough.
“Ah… shit.” The breath hissed out between my teeth as she kept stroking me. I leaned down over her on my elbows, wanting to collapse, but not knowing how she’d feel about me smushing my spunk between us. Then she caught my mouth with hers, slipped her tongue between my lips, and we were making out like a couple of kids in the dark, again, while everyone else partied.
Like we’d picked up right where we left off.
I ran my hand down and rubbed my come into her belly. She moaned into our kiss like she liked it, so I smeared it down between her legs… letting my wet fingers slip right up inside her as she lifted her hips to meet me. I didn’t plan to do it and I didn’t think about what I was doing. It just happened as my body responded to her sweet softness, drawn in by her heat and need.
“Give it to me,” she whispered, riding my fingers. “All of it.” She squeezed my cock in her hand and whispered, “I want all of you.”
I was still half-hard, so I gave it to her as she spread her thighs around me. Jesus… so fucking tight.
Hot. Sweet. Wet.
My pulse pounded in my brain and somewhere in the back of my mind the thought of a condom flitted by. Then Jessa grabbed my ass, pulling me deeper, and the thought was gone—and I did not care. I kissed her… rocking into her a few times until she’d taken me; all of me. Then I lay still, my cock throbbing, squeezed inside her tight, slick flesh, catching my breath.
“Brody… that was….”
“Don’t say it, princess,” I told her, holding her hips down and grinding into her. “Don’t say it like it’s over…” I ground into her a few more times, just savoring the feel of her as my cock perked back up, and then I got serious, fucking her like I’d always wanted to do.
Jesus Christ… I was fucking Jessa.
When she started undulating beneath me, wanting more, I blew out a breath.
“Sweetheart… Jessa… fuck me…”
I’d never felt anything like this before. Not even close to this. Wanting her… wanting more of her, faster and harder and just plain more than my body could keep up.
Her body could, though, her urgency building beneath me as she moved.
“I know you just came and you’re probably kind of… um… sensitive,” she panted beneath me, her hips swiveling against me as she rode me from beneath, “but is it wrong… if I just use your super-hot… hard body… to get off again?”
“Please,” I said, “use me.”
She laughed her beautiful laugh and I kissed her, deep, claiming her mouth with my tongue as we fucked, slow and wet. At some point I noticed it was starting to rain, just a misting drizzle, typical for this time of year. It was fucking cold actually, but the fire was still warm, almost hot on my back, and the heat between us… we were both sweating.
Wasn’t long before I was so lost in her that I had no idea which way was up. Literally. Somehow, she’d gotten me on my back. She was riding me like she couldn’t get enough, fast and hard… then slow, grinding against me and wiggling around, savoring the feel of our bodies connected for the first time.
Then there was no more slow. It was all fast, hungry thrusts as her body claimed mine, over and over, and I just held on for the ride, watching her, the pleasure building fast—my chest burning in a way it never had when I’d been with any other woman.
For once, I didn’t close my eyes, imagining I was with someone else.
Her.
It was always her.
“Brody…” Jessa’s hands gripped my neck as she rode me, her nails digging into me. “Brody… God, I missed you…” Tears shone in her brown eyes.
“You don’t have to miss me anymore.” I held her face in my hands, our eyes locked together. “I’m here,” I told her, fucking breathless. “Just take it, sweetheart… ”
I was stiff by now, every muscle in my body locked up tight, every nerve tuned into her movements as her body slid against mine. That strange burning in my chest coiling tight, squeezing out all the air.
I was vaguely aware that the band had stopped jamming. Zeppelin was cranked through the surround sound system, and as “Babe, I’m Gonna Leave You” climaxed, pumping through the roof beneath us, Jessa fucked the living hell right out of me.
And yeah, I wanted her to take what she needed, but Christ… I was only fucking human. And I’d wanted this, wanted her like this, for an inhumanly long time.
I grabbed her neck and pulled her down to me. “You’ve got about five seconds,” I panted into her ear, gripping her hip with my other hand, “to tell me to pull out.”
“Don’t pull out,” she panted back.
Her eyes met mine, and the thought came into my head: What if I knocked her up?
And it turned me on.
I was gonna shoot. Immediately.
She reached around behind herself and rubbed me off, her hand and her pussy strangling me as my orgasm hit, hot and fast… mind-blowing. I grabbed her tits, squeezing as I blew into her, molten heat jetting from my body as waves of pure ecstasy rocked through me. I pretty much left the planet for a few seconds…
It was Jessa’s soft scream that brought me back to Earth.
She was coming on my cock, and all I could do was watch in breathless awe as tears rolled down her face.
“Oh, God,” she gasped, “I’ve never…” She was still riding me, milking out every last drop with her tight pussy as I groaned beneath her, utterly fucking useless. Her hair was all damp with misting rain and sweat and sticking to her neck, her chest.
Then she collapsed on top of me, her warm, wet body slick against mine. I locked my arms around her, panting, but I wasn’t coming down.
I may never come down again.
Instead, my heart was gonna explode, because I had Jessa in my arms, my cock was still inside her, and I was never letting her go. She was mine.
At least, according to me. And my cock.
I’d finally fucked her. She’d fucked me, and there was no coming back from that. And yeah, in that moment, I knew it.
I was fucking done for.
Chapter Seventeen
Jessa
I spent the next day, after spending the night in Brody’s bed, at the church, making music with the band—the whole band. Elle and Dylan were there this time, and it was awesome.
But I also spent a lot of that time—whenever I thought I could get away with it—daydreaming about my night with Brody… and fantasizing about the night ahead.
And I couldn’t stop smiling.
Zane even asked me, joking, if I was high. At least I was pretty sure he was joking.
I was also pretty sure they all knew I’d spent the night with Brody in his room; for one thing, we’d both disappeared upstairs pretty early, and for another, I was wearing yesterday’s clothes. But other than a few sly glances, no one bugged me about it. Not even my brother.
Late in the morning, I texted Brody to ask him if I could make him dinner at his place. I was planning to tell him I’d think about his invitation to stay with him. The truth was, I wasn’t feeling all that comfortable at Roni’s anymore, what with all the coke-snorting bikers coming around for gang bangs. But I wasn’t about to move my stuff into Brody’s and get comfortable, when we still had to talk.
Since I was leaving for L.A. tomorrow, I wasn’t going to rush that talk. Not when we could spend tonight enjoying each other instead. The kind of talk we needed to have wasn’t the sort to be rushed anyway, I told myself.
I was planning to make Brody fajitas, because I rocked at making fajitas, and tell him over dinner. I thought that might soften things, so he didn’t take it as a rejection. More of a “let’s wait and see.” Because when I thought about having that talk, the one we’d have to have when I got back from the shoot, I couldn’t imagine him still wanting me to stay with him after we’d had it.
So mostly, I tried not to think about that.
Brody: I have a meeting at my place. U can join, though. Fajitas sound awesome if u don’t mind cooking for 3.
Me: Sounds good
I was disappointed we wouldn’t be alone, but it didn’t really change anything. We’d still have time to talk after his guest left, maybe while we undressed each other, before all the sex.
I knew it was wrong that I was putting off all the shit I needed to tell him. That this was cowardly of me. That I’d kinda promised myself I was going to tell him before we ended up naked.
Oops.
But the thing was, it was Brody. And I’d gotten carried away with how incredibly good it felt to get along with him for once. After all the years we’d been apart… and the years of turmoil before that… didn’t we deserve just a day or two to get along?
He’d given me his truck for the day, so on the way back from church I stopped off at Roni’s to shower and change, and picked up the ingredients I needed. When I got back to Brody’s place, I got caught up telling him about the day’s writing session and the new song we were working on as I unpacked the groceries.
“It was something Jesse said,” I told him, “about Katie. And something she said about him. We had this conversation the other day, about the studio he gave her; about making room for someone when you love them. And I got thinking about that. Making room… you know, physically and mentally; making space in your home, your heart. Then Jesse told me that sometimes she comes to bed in the middle of the night with paint all under her nails and smeared on her face, her hair all tangled up in a bandana, all sweaty and mumbling she’s so exhausted from painting all day. He said it’s like sleeping with a street urchin.” I grinned, kind of rolling my eyes. “I’ve never seen him talk about a woman like that. With that light in his eyes. I told him Katie literally lights him up, you know? The way music always has. And he just said, ‘She makes it easy.’”
Through all of this, Brody just smiled at me. He was sitting on a bar stool with me trapped between his thighs as I unpacked the groceries around him. He played with the ends of my hair, listening to me babble in such an excited rush I barely remembered to breathe.
“Anyway, that’s the name of the song.”
“What is?”
“‘She Makes It Easy.’ It’s kind of a play on words, ‘easy’ being a slide-into-home reference.”
Brody raised an eyebrow and I rolled my eyes.
“That was Zane’s contribution. Apparently a wet pussy is his version of a happy home.”
Brody laughed.
“Whatever. It’s got this really fucking sexy vibe. Jesse had this melody he’d come up with and I started playing around with some lyrics to lay down on top of it, and the whole thing just started to flow… the chorus came fast… and the song just came together. It was like old times. When we used to just write without worrying about how it would fit on the album. But they liked it so much that they said it’s definitely going on the album. They even said it’s going to help shape the direction of things. We played it for Jude and he liked it too, and you know how picky he is—like it really has to rock.”
“Can’t wait to hear it,” Brody said. “Maybe you can sing it for me tonight.” Then he started kissing my neck, and the doorbell rang.
Damn.
“You never told me who’s coming over,” I said, melting into his kisses.
He slipped his arms around my waist, holding me close. “I didn’t know how you’d feel about him coming over. It’s Seth.”
I felt my face freeze in a weird half-smile. Then I found myself saying the last thing I’d ever have imagined I would say at hearing those words.
“Great. Hope he’s hungry. There’s plenty.”
“You’re okay with this?” Brody searched my face. “Because I can have him leave, reschedule if you don’t want to see him.”
Shit. Was he testing me on this or something? What the hell was Seth doing here anyway? First the painting… now this?
I’d thought Seth Brothers was a thing of the past. Wasn’t Dirty done with him, like years ago?
“Why wouldn’t I want to see him?”
“I don’t know,” Brody said evenly. “You tell me.”
I shrugged. “Haven’t seen him in years. Might be nice to catch up.” My guts roiled even as I said the words, but I’d always had a hell of a poker face. “How’s he doing, anyway?”
“Guess we’re about to find out. We’ve spoken a few times, but this is the first time I’ve met with him. Think he’s sniffing around about the guitarist position. I hear he’s doing well, though.” He was watching me, gauging my reaction.
“Cool. I’ll make dinner, and you guys can talk shop.” I turned back to my dinner preparations.
Guitarist position?
Seth was here about the guitarist position?
And Brody was meeting with him?
I knew Dirty was on the lookout for a rhythm guitarist, yet again, since losing Paulie, but I had no idea they were casting such a wide net. Really wide, if they were actually considering opening the door to Seth again after throwing him out.
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Bring him in.”
Brody stood there watching me for a long moment. “Okay.”
Then he went to get Seth as the doorbell rang again, and I got ahold of myself the best I could.
When they came in, I spared Seth a glance, careful to look him in the eye but not show a thing on my face.
He looked mostly the same, and yet, like a different man than the Seth I’d known. The few lines on his face had deepened, the angles sharpened, and cute had turned to beautiful in a manly, rough-edged way. And he had more hair. Light brown and slightly wavy, it used to just dust his chin but now it was long enough that it was pulled into a man-bun on the back of his head, and he had a short beard. He no longer had that ever-present pothead softness to his eyes, though. They were clear and sharp, and when he met my gaze he smiled, dimple and all.
“Hey, Jessa,” he said softly, rocking back on his heels, just like he had as a teen when something floored him.
I said hi and gave him a hug, quickly; a hug that ended before he seemed to want it to.
Then I made myself very, very busy. Fajitas were simple enough, but mine had a lot of different steps to get all the seasonings and the sauce right, and there were a lot of ingredients.
“A model who cooks,” Seth mused. “Multi-talented woman.”
“She writes music, too,” Brody said, watching me.
“Right,” Seth said. “How could I forget.”
“Okay, out of this kitchen,” I said, waving them away, and finally they got scarce, heading down to the party room to talk while I got busy making fajitas. I tried not to overhear what they were saying; I couldn’t quite make it out from where I was, even if I tried.
After a while I turned on some music and tried to forget that Brody and Seth were chatting in the other room. It was just too fucking strange. And too much like no time had passed at all. Like I was right back there, smack in the middle of those difficult years, not knowing which way to run.
Soon, I was lost in the memory.
It was far too fresh, as if it happened not long ago… which was maybe what happened when wounds weren’t fully healed, no matter how long ago they were actually inflicted.
I was hurting. And I could still feel that hurt, hot and fresh.
I was high.
I was in a club I shouldn’t be in, with people I wasn’t supposed to be with. My brother was playing a gig across town. He thought I was home in bed. It was one in the morning and I was sixteen, but I was not home in bed.
I was dancing.
And I’d just popped some pills.
I felt the vibe of the room around me as other people got high, too. The music was loud, pumping, and it felt like the entire crowd was starting to rush, everyone caught up in the electronic vibe as it built in that way it did when the DJ was really, really good.
I was dancing with my girls. Most of them were also underage and shouldn’t be here. I didn’t care. I was thinking of nothing but the music, and my body, moving with the music. I didn’t want to think about anything else. Just the music.
Then I felt his hands on my waist.
Big, warm, possessive hands.
Dirty Like Brody: A Dirty Rockstar Romance (Dirty, Book 2) Page 19