by Amy Brent
I tried getting her on the phone before I got onto the plane. I cursed myself for not having anyone else’s number. Not her boss or her doctor or her best friend. No one’s. I had no way of checking in on her to make sure she hadn’t had too much to drink or choked on her own vomit or even if she had tripped and knocked herself unconscious. All these scenarios ran through my head as I flew back to L.A., and the moment I walked off my private jet, I made a mad dash for the car that was waiting for me.
By the time I got to my car and headed straight for Melissa’s, it was two o’clock in the afternoon. Her car was there and the lights in her living room were on, but there wasn’t any sort of motion going on behind the curtain. I stumbled out of my car and ran up to her doorstep, jiggling her doorknob before I started banging on her door.
Holy fuck, I needed her to be all right.
“Melissa!” I yelled as I banged on her door. “Melissa! Open up! Please!”
I stood there to see if I could hear anything, and for a moment I didn’t. I resumed banging on her door, my fist on fire as the door shook on its hinges. I was banging so hard, I didn’t hear her walking up to the door, and when she opened it up, I practically fell into her. She gasped, steadying herself on her feet as she held me close, and the moment I picked my head up, I crashed my lips onto hers.
She tasted like alcohol and residual vomit, but sweet fuck, I didn’t care. She was alive. She was conscious. And she was in my arms.
“Brandon?” she murmured.
“I’m so glad you’re all right,” I said.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Your voice mail. I got your voice mail.”
“My what?”
Wow. She really had been drunk.
“You left me a voice mail last night. I tried calling and calling, and when I didn’t hear from you, I panicked.”
“How are you here? What about—wait, don’t you have an interview tonight?” she asked.
“Not anymore.” I wrapped my arms around her and stepped into her home. I shut the door behind me before my lips flew to her neck. She sighed into me, her body melting into my arms as I licked the salty taste from her skin.
I needed her to know that she was at the forefront of my mind. Always.
“What did I say in the message?” she asked.
I stopped kissing her and raised my eyes to meet her stare. She was curious, I could tell, but something also told me she knew what she’d said. She looked wary. Nervous. With a hint of relief like she was glad something had been said, but she didn’t know quite how she’d phrased it.
“You told me you were scared to love me because of what happened, that me dropping off the face of the earth made you nervous that I was with someone else, and you wanted me to be upfront with you about it if it had happened,” I said.
She nodded slowly as her arms fell from mine, but all I did was pull her closer to me.
“I had some late nights at some bookstores. Friday and Saturday, I didn’t get in until almost one in the morning. I didn’t know if you’d appreciate me calling that late.”
I could see the relief wash over her face as tears crested her eyes. Her hair was crusted to her neck, and I could see a massive red spot on her cheek, and I slowly pieced together what had happened. She’d probably fallen asleep getting sick from the alcohol, and my banging had woken her up from wherever she’d passed out.
“Melissa, are you all right?” I asked.
“I, uh, have to call Carl’s parents. Make sure they can keep Sarah a bit longer so I can clean up,” she said.
“Sounds like a good idea. I’ll run you a bath. How does that sound?”
“Sounds great,” she said, smiling.
She went in search of her phone while I headed to her bathroom. I ran hot water into the tub and poured some vanilla-scented bubbles into the bath. I took the liberty of washing her floor, getting the mess off the tiles before she ventured back in. Her shoulders were slumped, and her hair was a mess. Her eyes were red from exhaustion, and her voice croaked with pain. I turned off the hot water and slowly began to undress her. Then I picked her up and slowly sank her into the bath as she sighed with relief.
I shed my clothes and piled them on the floor before I slid in behind her. My hands slowly cupped water, pouring it over her head as I began to wash her down. Shampoo, conditioner, and soap riddled her body while my hands slowly massaged from her head to her legs, and with each circular movement, I could feel her relaxing into me.
But the moment I started washing her thighs, I felt her legs spread a little wider than they should.
Her head laid back onto my shoulder as I planted a small kiss on her cheek. I allowed the washcloth to float away while the bubbles popped against our bodies. Her chest was flushed with want while the conditioner softened her hair, and as my fingertips made my way between her pussy folds, I could feel her already squirming at my touch.
“Brandon,” she whispered.
“I’m right here,” I said as my lips grazed her ear.
Slowly, I allowed my fingers to explore her. I clocked every place that made her jump as I massaged her pussy folds. I ran my fingertips along the edge, feeling her press deeply into my chest as my cock grew against her back. I found her pulsing clit, the hood peeling itself back as it grew underneath my ministrations. She tossed her leg over the edge of the tub, giving me greater access as she offered her body to me.
“I could never want for another woman after getting you back,” I said.
“I’m sorry,” she said breathlessly.
“Don’t ever be sorry for speaking your truth. Thank you for letting me in.” I pushed my fingertips into her clit to punctuate my statement. She moaned out lightly, her back arching away from me as my other hand came up to cup her breast. My cock was smashed against her back, her soft skin against my throbbing dick as she ground back into my hips. The friction was enough to drive me wild as I slowly circled her clit, and every time she bucked back into me, my cock leaked with delight.
“You came back,” she whispered.
“Let it be the first of many precedents I’ll set.”
I picked up my ministrations as her body began to quiver. Her fingertips dug into my thighs and her back thrust against my cock. I tweaked her nipple, playing with it between my fingers as she moaned and groaned. I could feel her pussy humming with lust as she bucked wildly against my hand, sending soapy water sloshing over the sides of the tub.
Her nipples grew harder and harder in my hand as she reached back to grasp my hair. She pulled my lips to her neck, wanting me to bite down into her skin as I flicked and pressed her swollen center. My teeth grazed her skin as she began to pant, my cock growing against her as she continued to push back into me.
“That’s it,” I said. “Just like that. Take what you want. All I have is yours.”
“Brandon. Fuck. You feel so good. I love your hands on me. Yes. Yes. Don’t stop.”
“I’ll never stop, Melissa. Dear fuck, I’ll never stop.”
My cock thrust quicker and quicker against her back as she fucked my hand. I could feel her body trembling as we soaked her tiled floor. The bubbles were growing, her legs were contracting, my balls were raising, and my teeth were sinking into the soft mounds of her skin. Her hands tangled in my hair, and I watched her conditioner drip down her breasts. All I could think about was how perfect she felt against my body and how every single curve her body had filled out over the years to fit specifically into the divots of my muscles.
“I’m so close. So close. Almost there. Yes. Oh shit, Brandon. I’m coming. I’m—”
I held her close to me as her body began to shake. I bit down into her skin, marking her as mine as her pussy poured juices into the bath water. My cock shot come up her back, painting the most beautiful picture against her suntanned skin. I kissed up her neck as she jumped and trembled, her lips pressing kisses against my skin as she slowly sank back into me.
“I’m so glad you’re
here,” she said, whispering.
“So am I,” I said before I captured her lips in a kiss.
“So am I.”
Chapter 28
Melissa
I couldn’t believe Brandon was actually here. With me. In a tub full of bubbles. I relaxed into him, my orgasm washing over me as I took in the stretch of his body. I closed my eyes and sighed as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close to him while the water began to cool around us. I didn’t want to get up and leave. I was scared if I did, this would all be a dream.
“Why are you here, Brandon?” I asked.
“Because I got your voice mail,” he said.
“I mean, yeah. But why did you stop your book tour to come back? Aren’t people going to be upset with you?”
“I panicked when I got your message,” he said. “I could tell you’d been drinking, and I couldn't get you back on the phone when I called. I thought something had happened. That you’d been in a wreck or were getting sick or had choked on your own vomit or something. I knew I wouldn’t be able to finish the tour with the right mindset without knowing you were all right.”
Shit. I knew I would find a way to ruin things. Now people were going to be pissed because of me. He would disappoint his fans and anger his agent. He wouldn’t get the press he needed around this book for it to be successful. He would worry instead of enjoying his success, and it was all because of me because I was a clinging idiot.
“You need to go back,” I said as I pulled away from him.
“Not a chance. I love you, Melissa. I care about you.”
“That doesn’t mean you should’ve risked your own success to come check on me. I would’ve called you in the morning,” I said.
“I wasn’t willing to lose you. I would’ve rather postponed things and come home than try to resolve things over the phone.”
“You shouldn’t have done that,” I said as I stepped out of the bath.
“Melissa, where are you going?”
“You need to go back.” I grabbed a towel. “You need to call your agent and tell them you’re coming back.”
“I’ve already put things on hold. Melissa, just get back in the tub.”
“Then call them and undo it!” I exclaimed. “Call them and tell them you’re coming back.”
I could see Brandon’s wild eyes on me as I turned and started out of the bathroom. He needed to get back. He needed to complete this tour and do the television interviews, so he wouldn’t resent me for bringing him home, for spoiling his career and for making him a failure instead of a success.
“Melissa, deep breaths,” he said.
“Fuck your deep breaths,” I said as I whirled around. “Go back to the tour.”
“I’m not,” he said.
“And why not? All you’re going to do now is resent me because you didn’t finish this tour. Because your book won’t sell as much, and you won’t get as much publicity. Your agent’ll probably blame me in the press or some shit and make me out to be this awful fucking person because you came back early.”
“No,” he said. “None of that is going to happen. All I told my agent was that I had a family emergency. For all she knows, it’s Max.”
“If you want to be with me, if this is going to work, you have to go back. You can’t just drop your life whenever I’m struggling. We have to learn how to navigate this and how to work things out over the phone like the phone sex.”
“The phone sex,” he said.
“Yes. When we wanted each other but you weren’t here, we compromised. Phone sex. Cameras and stuff. We have to be able to compromise now.”
My breath was coming in shallow pants, and my hands were shaking. Brandon was naked in front of me, his body drip drying as he slowly approached me. I backed myself into my room, my vision blurring with tears as my mind began to spin. He had to go back. We had to work this out like any other couple would when someone was on the road. He’d hate me. That love would turn to hate, and I didn’t know if I could handle that.
Scratch that. I knew I couldn’t handle that.
“Melissa, you’re panicking. Let’s get you calmed down, and then we can talk,” he said.
“Don’t use that smooth doctor voice on me. You know I’m right, Brandon. The media and your agent are going to have a fucking field day with this. I can see the headline now. Infamous Doctor Dating Crazy Pants.”
“Melissa, nothing like that is happening. Things are just postponed, not canceled. I promise you. Just come here and let me hold you.”
“No,” I said breathlessly.
I felt the back of my legs hit the bed, and I fell to my ass. My entire body was trembling as I saw his blurry figure approach me, but the moment his hands descended onto my arms, I fought back. I pushed him out of the room, tears dripping from my cheeks before I slammed my bedroom door in his face.
“Get out,” I whispered.
“Melissa, open this door.”
“Leave,” I choked out.
“I’m not going anywhere. I love you. I’m not leaving you in this state. Please, Mel, take deep breaths for me, deep ones through your nose.”
Mel. Mel. Mel.
His nickname for me darted off the corners of my mind. It was the name he called me whenever my parents did something stupid. Whenever they took something of mine away or locked me in my room over the weekend. He would always cup my cheeks plant a small kiss on my nose, and call me Mel.
“I love you, Mel.”
“Get out,” I begged.
“No.”
“Please.”
“I’m not leaving you like this,” he said.
“I said get out!”
I screamed so hard I lost my voice. My vision tunneled, and I stumbled back to my bed. The towel dropped as I curled up into a ball, hoisting my knees to my chest as my eyes began to flutter shut. He was going to hate me. His book was going to fail. His agent was going to yell at me, and the press was going to slaughter me.
And all because I got too drunk.
I heard my front door open and close, bringing on more tears as I whimpered on my bed. I needed Ava. I needed to talk with her. I needed to tell her what was going on, that all I wanted was what was best for him. I wanted Brandon to be successful. I wanted him to be embraced by his fans. I didn’t want to be something that held him back like I had just become.
I crawled to the head of my bed and grabbed my phone. I dialed Ava’s number and held the phone to my ear, hoping to the heavens she would pick up.
And when she did, I immediately started sobbing.
“Stay right where you are, I’m on my way over.”
The next thing I knew, Ava was covering me with my comforter. She lifted my head, placed it on her lap, and ran her fingers through my hair, shushing me quietly as I tried to compose myself. My hands stopped trembling, and my breathing evened out and my eyes finally stopped leaking tears.
I felt emptier than the day I had lost Carl, and I had very quickly redefined my personal definition of rock bottom.
“What happened?” she asked.
“I drunk dialed Brandon last night and told him everything,” I said.
“Uh-oh,” she said.
“And he showed up at my door this morning.”
“What?”
“And we took the most luxurious bath together,” I said breathlessly.
“So what’s the problem?” she asked.
“He postponed things for me.”
“I’m not following,” she said.
“He had these plans, Ava, for his book tour and television appearances that were canceled last minute, and his agent was pissed that he was leaving. Thousands of his fans who were waiting for autographs now won’t get to see him because of me. They won’t get to shake his hand or talk to him because I wasn’t strong enough. His book won’t be as successful as it could’ve been because I was an idiot and couldn’t just wait for him to return my calls.”
“Okay, did you tell him this?” she asked
.
“Yeah. And he said he wasn’t going back.”
“So, why am I coddling you right now?”
“I panicked. I told him that if he cared for me, we had to resolve it over the phone. I told him he couldn’t just jet back at a moment’s notice because he was worried about me. I’m a grown ass woman who can take care of herself. We compromised with the phone sex, so I told him we could compromise on something like this over the phone. So, he could have his success and a life back here,” I said.