From Yesterday

by Miriam Epstein

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Brady starts moving round the room, gathering up whatever clothing of his he can find.

  "Throw something on, Paige. We're spending the rest of the night at my place."

  In my closet, the first thing I see is a black and white striped racer back dress that comes to my ankles. I throw it on, not caring that it is way too formal just to go down three flights of stairs. Black flip flop sandals and I'm all set.

  Brady comes back into my bedroom with my gun. "Did you know you left this out on your desk?"

  "I guess I got too caught up in-- well, us. I completely forgot. I haven't left the apartment since, though."

  Brady scrubs his hand over his face in frustration. "That's not the point, Paige. Obviously being inside your apartment isn't helping. Whoever this is has access to your place. They could have taken your gun, again, and shot you."

  I cringe. Brady thinks it's because he's scared me with the all the possibilities he lays out, but actually I'm never comfortable with the idea of shooting someone. That gun is only ever to be used in an extreme life or death situation.

  "Yes, Paige. Now you see. These safety measures have to be taken seriously. And you need to get those locks changed. Promise me you'll do that as soon as we wake up?"

  "I promise."

  "Thank you." He gestures to the gun in his hand. "We'll take this with us. If there's anything you need for the morning, grab it quickly. I want to get you out of here."

  I get some toiletries out of my bathroom and toss them into my purse. When I finish, Brady gives me my gun to put in my bag. I have a special holster that's stitched into this bag. Glocks don't have traditional safeties; the trigger is the safety so it has to be stored properly to avoid an accidental discharge. Purses with holsters are the most common way for a woman to carry a concealed weapon because we tend to wear clothing that is form fitting and there is no place on the body to hide a gun.

  I make sure to lock my apartment when we leave. The ride in the elevator is quick and then we're in Brady's place and I feel better instantly.

  Brady leads me through the hallway to his bedroom with his hand on the small of my back and I'm not sure who's more comforted by that. We are both pretty freaked out. He doesn't say it, but I can tell by how upset he was with me about the gun and how uncharacteristically quiet he is being now. In fact, he says nothing until we enter his bedroom and I stop walking and stare at him.

  "I shouldn't have yelled at you," he says when I cross my arms over my chest, challenging him.

  I drop my arms to my sides. "No, but I know you just did it because I'm careless sometimes."

  Brady looks up and his face scrunches up in confusion. "It just doesn't make sense, though, if you think about it."

  "What do you mean? What doesn't make sense?"

  He looks back at me, but I feel like he's looking through me as his thought process works his mind out. "The things that happen. It's like this person just wants you to know that they've been there, but nothing else really happens. Sure, there have been some threatening advances, and the things being done are creepy, but it never escalates. Don't these stalker types try to physically harm their prey? What kind of game are they playing?"

  I sit down on his bed and my hands fidget in my lap. "I don't know. I've thought about this, too. Maybe that's why I've been less diligent than I should have been. It's like, the only thing they've been trying to accomplish is to remind me of that night. To make me feel guilty. Maybe even to keep me from getting over everything that happened with my sister and her death."

  Too late, I realize I've said more than I should.

  "What do you mean about 'what happened that night'?"

  I shift on the bed to look in his direction. "It's nothing. It is all in the past, I'm just rambling. Are you coming to bed? I'm tired."

  "Well, I would, but there's a rule I have about that bed."

  I relax as his normal flirtations seem to be coming back. "Oh? And what is this rule?"

  Brady takes his shirt off. "No clothing allowed. If you want to sleep in my bed, you'll do so completely nude."

  I grin as he continues undressing. "So I guess I'll sleep on the couch then."

  I stand up and pretend to walk towards the hallway, but I don't make it two steps before a hand snakes around my waist and pulls me back. "Not a chance, Paige. Way to think of a loophole, though. Well played."

  I turn to face him and in one swift move, I pull my dress over my head and drop it at his feet. He traces my lips with his right index finger., then trails it down my chin to my chest and stops just above my breasts. "We really should get some sleep," he says.

  "Yes," I agree. "There is plenty of time for this tomorrow. After class."

  Brady groans as he finishes stripping. "You're still going to class? We've had less than two hours of sleep and it is four thirty in the morning. At best, we'll get two more hours of sleep. I think we might be entitled to skip this class on account of extenuating circumstances."

  I slip into the bed and get under the comforter. "When did you become pre-law? Good argument, but you are welcome to do what you wish. I just don't want to miss class unless I'm really sick or something. Reyes takes attendance, remember?"

  He gets in bed behind me and pulls me to his chest. "You're right. I'll go. I guess I'm just a little cranky when sleep-deprived. Plus, I used up a lot of energy earlier."

  I laugh. "I'd say we both did. Don't worry, we'll be fine. Think of this as a two hour power nap."

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Because Brady only had one class to my two, I have to convince him to let me find my own way back to his apartment when school is done for the day. He tried to insist on coming to my second class with me, but I flat out refused. The only thing that he agreed to was me taking my car instead of walking.

  I knock on Brady's door with my overnight bag in hand. He's going to be mad that I went up to my place alone, but after having to wear the striped maxi dress to class today, I wanted a choice of clothing with me. The dress is fairly see through, which Brady so kindly pointed out.

  Brady opens the door right away and his eyes fall right to the bag with my clothes. Surprisingly, he says nothing; just steps out of the way to let me in and shuts the door behind me. He takes the bag from me and carries it to the bedroom while I stand awkwardly in the foyer.

  He comes back out and sees me standing there. "What are you doing?"

  I shrug. "I don't know. I guess I was waiting for you to come back."

  "Uh, why? Make yourself at home."

  I look around for a second. "I guess it's just habit. My parents taught me to never act inappropriately in someone else's home."

  "You slept in my bed with me last night. Naked. I'd say we're past that. Relax."

  "Fine." I use a bar stool for leverage to get myself up on the kitchen counter and sit with my legs up on the top of the same stool, parted slightly. The length of the dress keeps it from being obscene, which is good because I'm still not wearing panties. Brady has the same galley kitchen with the island/counter/breakfast bar and three high top stools just like all the other units in this building that I've seen. The surface I'm sitting on is about six feet long and three feet wide. I wonder how it feel to have him come over here and fuck me up against this counter.

  Perhaps I'm a bit overloaded on the hormones right now.

  "Very nice, Paige. Keep testing me. See what happens."

  I part my legs even more. "Uh huh. Speaking of which, I can't believe you didn't say anything about me going upstairs alone to get my stuff."

  He throws his hands in the air. "What can I do? It's not like you are very good at taking advice that could keep you safe. I wasn't surprised."

  He comes over to sit at the breakfast bar, holding my legs up and then resting them in his lap after he sits in the same stool I was using. "How was your second class?"

  I sigh. "More boring than usual. Oh, I called the locksmith on my way back and they are sending someon
e tonight between four and eight."

  "That's great. Did you also call Victor?"

  "I did. He actually met me upstairs earlier when I got my things. So I wasn't alone." I smirk at Brady. "He said that the red crap on my vase was not blood. His brother has a friend that is a Chemistry professor at the community college. I guess that school just spent several million dollar on a brand new science complex and they some machine with a name I cannot pronounce. It can read the stuff and spit out all the chemicals used in it. Victor took a sample of the fake blood pool in my bedroom, too."

  Brady looks impressed. "That's a great way to start. Did he say when he'd know what the stuff is?"

  I shake my head. "No, he's not sure when the professor will have time to help him out. That guy is the only one with access to the machine and he does all the testing for the department so it might be a few days before he can get to us."

  Brady looks at his watch. "Well, it is only one. We have at least three hours to kill until the locksmith. What would you like to do?"

  To illustrate the point of what he would like to do, Brady slips his hand under my dress and slowly drags it upward. I let him get just outside of his goal before I clamp my legs shut with his hand trapped between them.

  "Well, actually I talked to Elyse yesterday and she mentioned that Garrett was leaving on a work trip this morning. And I ran into her just now and she looks lonely. So, I may have suggested she come downstairs and hang out with us?"

  I say the last part like it's a question when we both know that I've already done what I'm asking and really, Brady can't be mad because we are still just friends, technically, and therefore he's not guaranteed sex whenever he feels like it. At least, I think that's how it works. It isn't as though I have some huge knowledge of how relationships work, or even how to define this one.

  Brady does his best to not look disappointed. "No, it's cool. I don't want you to get sick of me anyway, so it's good for you to hang out with your girlfriends. I know she's become important to you."

  "Well, I don't want to hang out with just her. I want to spend time with all three of us. But, yes, I guess she has kind of become someone I care about. I don't even know when that happened. She's just got such a kindness about her. Not too many people like that, you know."

  "That's true. Are you hungry? I can see what I have. Is Elyse coming down now? Maybe I should order food."

  Before I can answer him, there is a knock at the door, which must be Elyse.

  Brady stands up and then gives me a hand to help me down from the counter. "Well, I guess that answers one question."

  Elyse answers the other question as she is loaded up with at least five different kinds of sandwiches and one of those edible fruit arrangements. I love those, especially if they also have the chocolate covered marshmallows. And this one does.

  "I feel like you're always feeding me, Elyse."

  She smiles. "It's fun for me, Paige. Maybe one day I'll open up a restaurant."

  Elyse arranges the food and points out the sandwich fillings. I take the one with grilled vegetables, Elyse takes the roasted chicken, and Brady takes a roast beef and a tuna salad sandwich. We bring everything over to the gigantic television and start playing a movie that Elyse brought. It's an older movie, but Mike Myers is great, especially when he also plays his character's father with a Scottish accent.

  Brady falls asleep at some point during the movie. When it is over, Elyse and I carry the dishes back to the kitchen and repeat the other night by cleaning up together.

  We are talking a little bit about Garrett's work schedule and how much Elyse hates it when she confides in me that she suspects he might be seeing someone on the side.

  "I mean, I don't want to believe it, but he's been so distracted since we moved here. He's changed a lot in the past few months. And the constant work trips? They were supposed to stop sending him all around."

  I am not sure what to tell her. "Well, what specifically has you worried that he is cheating? Did you find something?"

  She shakes her head. "No, actually. There's nothing physical to suggest that he is with another woman. It's just this nagging feeling. I just really pray that I'm wrong."

  "Maybe his job is really the thing you are jealous of. What is that he does?"

  "He is the head of the consumer relations department for a computer supply company. They are pretty big distributors of computer and office supplies for a lot of businesses in the Midwest. They are expanding the company, which is how we ended up here"

  When I am quiet for a few moments too many, Elyse changes the subject. "So, Paige. It looks like things are really progressing with you and Brady, yes?"

  I glance over to make sure he's still sleeping. He is. "If you're asking if we're having sex, then yes."

  Amusement comes over Elyse's expression. "Straight to the point. I love that. So, is it a casual thing or are you a couple?"

  "Well, we are friends. There's nothing casual about it for me, but I haven't asked him about that. And we just stared sleeping together, like, yesterday. I really like him and there's no one else I want. Does that answer your question?"

  She touches my shoulder. "I hope it works out for the two of you. I really think you two are a good match."

  We finish cleaning up and Elyse excuses herself to go back home and do whatever it is she does. Once she's gone, I decide Brady has slept for long enough and I go over to where he's napping on the couch and I gently straddle his hips, lowering myself forward so that I'm able to touch his lips with my own. He must wake up immediately because his strong hands go to my hips and hold me in place so that I can feel his rapidly forming erection.

  "Do you always wake up hard?" I ask.

  "Most of the time, but definitely when you sit on my cock and act like my personal alarm clock."

  I rotate my hips once or twice and elicit a groan from him. "Okay. Noted. It is 3:45 so I need to go up and wait for the locksmith."

  "Oh, man. You're killing me. Okay, give me a minute and then I'll come up with you."

  I get off of his lap. "Interesting choice of words."

  He gets up and holds my head in his hands. We kiss; a slow, deep, hungry kiss that leaves me practically breathless. And as he heads off towards his bedroom he says, "For the record, it's not casual for me either. I don't want any other girls, just you. You can call us just friends all you want to, but you and I both know that this is something real. The sooner you stop denying it, you'll feel much better about the fact that you're all mine."

  "You were faking!" I take the hair clip out of my hair and throw it at his retreating form, beaming him in the back of the head.

  "You should play baseball," he calls back. "Maybe then you'll stop throwing things at me."

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  The locksmith gets to my place by six and I'm thrilled that I don't have to wait any longer because I am impatient tonight. Brady and I have been sitting around playing grab ass for the last two hours without any results because no one wants to get in too deep only to have the locksmith arrive mid-coitus.

  The guy spends about half an hour drilling things in the door and changing stuff out. He shows me how the new lock system works and I'm glad Brady is paying attention because the inner working mechanisms of the door handle bores me to tears. By the time the guy leaves, I'm ready to tear off my clothes and throw myself at Brady.

  I doubt he would mind.

  After I try out the new set of keys and verify that they work, I turn to Brady and put my hands on my hips.

  "You look like you're waiting for something, Paige. How can I help you?"

  "Are you kidding me?"

  He laughs.

  I pout. "Okay, you are kidding. Because I know you're just as turned on as I am."

  He comes over to me and kisses my neck. "You know I am. I just really enjoyed hearing you say that."

  The discussion ends there as his mouth comes down on mine. The kisses are more frenzied than ever; neither of us have any preten
se of control.

  We get our clothes off in between kisses and try to make it out of the living room, but we are barely in the hallway before Brady pushes me up against the wall, puts my hand on his cock, and returns the favor by rubbing me between my legs. I grip him as hard as I can manage without causing pain and stroke him. He moans into my mouth and I know exactly how he feels because I'm spinning out of it myself.

  The tip of his cock produces a small amount of fluid and I rub my thumb over it to use as lubrication as I continue pumping his shaft. I like the foreplay, I really do, but right now I just want him to thrust inside of me and make me forget who I am.

  Brady can read minds. Or at least, great minds think alike because the second that those thoughts pop into my head, he turns me around to face the wall and enters me swiftly. The initial thrust makes me wince, but only in extreme pleasure. No pain.

  He brings one hand around me to rub my clit while he fucks me from behind. When he pauses and pulls out of me, I cry out in despair. He whispers in my ear, his breath tickling my neck. "Wait just one second, gorgeous."

  He's back quickly, tearing into the condom packet he brings with him and I remain facing the wall while I wait for him to put the condom on.

  Finally, he's back behind me, the tip of his cock lined up with my core and he plunges back inside of me. A scream rips free from my throat. It's true what they say; sex is a thousand times better when it is with someone you care about and cares for you. Otherwise it feels empty afterward. I have the impression that almost nothing will ever feel better than this.

  Brady strokes my clit furiously as he moves inside of me over and over again. It's not long before my knees give out and he is the only thing holding me up.

  I start to come and I Brady's name leave my lips before I realize what I'm doing. I spasm around his cock and he increases his pace.

  "Fuck, Paige."

  The word for the sounds he makes now is grunting, which sounds as far from sexy as possible; but to hear im actually making the noise is so hot. I would never get tired of hearing him come.