Stealing Home

by Harlow Cole

  * * *

  Brayden

  The dress showed off every inch of her. It clung to the underside of her breasts, pushing them up into a fucking feast for the eyes. It also clung to the backs of her thighs, just enough to accentuate the soft swell of her ass.

  I loved it and hated it, all at the same time.

  It wasn’t Ashley. At all. Neither was the twisted up hair I knew Joey had talked her through step by step on the phone. I wanted to pull out all the pins and jam my hands in her hair, wash off the makeup covering her freckles, and strip her down to nothing but little white panties and a soft lacy bra.

  I never particularly liked these events, but this one was driving me straight up a fucking wall. I didn’t want any of it touching her—the dark black light, the loud music, or the throngs of nameless attention whores.

  I pressed flesh like a puppet, flashing that stupid smile and making small talk, but I kept my eye on her from across the room. I had to be careful. There were a million and one camera phones ready and able. I wasn’t gonna give them shit they didn’t deserve.

  And none of them deserved a piece of her.

  Mia had done a great job of keeping her on the fringes, protecting her from the worst of it. She was supposed to explain why I was working the perimeter of the VIP section, circling around them, drawing away the brunt of the crowd.

  But I could feel Soot’s eyes on me. They kept tugging me closer, pulling me until I finally couldn’t fight it anymore. Half a dozen people stopped me as I slowly made my way toward them.

  She had a drink in her hand. Her third one by my count. As a rule, I never drank at these things, but I took the glass from her and shared a sip to test its strength. Vodka and sugar coated my tongue.

  I needed to find her something to eat.

  “How are you holding up?” Mia asked.

  “Better now,” I replied, never taking my eyes off Ashley as I handed her back the glass. I watched her sip more of the concoction, mesmerized by the way her tongue licked remnants of sugar from her bottom lip.

  “Sweet Lord,” Mia said beside me. “I have to go find my man. If I wasn’t your publicist, I’d tell you guys to go home and make a sex tape. The two of you together are scorching hot.” She held her glass out to tap it against the rim of Ashley’s in a toast. “Remember what I said. Short and curlies.”

  They both giggled as Mia walked away.

  “Do I even want to know?” I asked, drawing Ashley farther away from the crowd, into a darker corner.

  The back of her hand brushed across the front of my jeans, shocking me into attention.

  “She thinks I’ve got a firm hold down here and shouldn’t let go.”

  “Fuck.” I slid my hand around her, discreetly grabbing ahold of her ass and pulling her up against me. “I’d like you to have a firm hold down there right now.”

  “Maybe that can be arranged.”

  24

  Stay. Stay. Stay

  Ashley

  “This is freaking sinful.”

  Brayden leaned forward and plucked a gooey glob that had oozed down my chin as I spoke. “This is one of the very best things about living here.”

  I smiled at him across the candlelight.

  For the first time since we’d boarded the plane, I felt fully at ease.

  After Gino steered us out of the club, through a secret back door, we’d driven away from the lights and noise and into a quieter neighborhood, lined with darkened storefronts. The buzz of the alcohol had loosened me up enough that I didn’t mind the PDA of Brayden kissing me softly in the back seat. I exchanged my heels for a pair of ballet flats, and he plucked all the pins from my hair, massaging his fingers through it as he went.

  I was a little surprised when he told Gino we were gonna hop out, explaining he’d called ahead for VIP seats.

  We entered the nondescript building through a back alley. The screened door slammed shut behind us—reminding me of home. A short man with a graying beard welcomed us. His age-mangled hands gripped Brayden’s shoulders with a happy shake before he escorted us to his most exclusive seats. They’d been fashioned from wooden packing crates that sat beside a large cardboard box—serving as a dining table. Fully adorned, it had a kitschy red-and-white-checkered tablecloth and an empty wine bottle with a candle melting down the sides.

  An old woman in a bright blue dress and white apron rushed in to greet us before we took our seats. She sweetly hugged Brayden and brushed kisses across both his cheeks.

  “You stay away too long, ragazzo dolce,” she said with love in her voice. “And this”—she turned and grasped my arms, holding me back for inspection—“la bellezza.” She glanced back at Brayden. “Just as you said. But you bring her to me even skinnier than her picture.” She turned back and pinched my cheek. “No worries. Mama Rosie’s cooking will fatten you right up.”

  She hadn’t been kidding.

  They’d brought copious amounts of food. Thin pizza with layers of fresh basil and mozzarella. Calzones full of chicken and creamy ricotta. Cannoli as big as my hands.

  “I pretty much never want to leave here,” I said, now holding my fork full of dough and cheese out for Brayden to nibble.

  “I discovered Mama Ro’s my third day in town. I’d lost a shit-ton of weight in rehab. Hadn’t really eaten in weeks. My father was crawling up my ass about adding pounds as fast as possible. I just wandered in one day, and she started feeding me. Hasn’t stopped since. I come after games a lot. Sit back here, shoot the shit with her husband, Mario, and eat my face off. It’s not fancy, but—”

  “I love it,” I said, interrupting as I surveyed the room around us. The little storage room had shelves full of cans and extra linens. For the first time in days, I felt comfortable in a part of Brayden’s world.

  “I knew you would.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips against mine.

  Then, he pulled back to look at me with bright eyes I finally recognized. The fake shine had slipped away, replaced with the guy I knew. That boyish grin I used to chase with my camera lens appeared suddenly. I reached out and grasped his face in my hands, silently begging that smile to stay. The air between us grew heavy, weighted by too many hours of building tension.

  “Wanna wrap the rest up to go?” he asked, his voice husky as he stared down at my lips.

  * * *

  Brayden

  “Brayden. God. That’s so fucking good.”

  She spoke the words against my mouth as my fingers dug harder into wet flesh, and my dick drove into her from behind. Her head was turned back over her shoulder, soaked strands of her hair tangled against her cheeks, as the water cascaded down overtop of us.

  I couldn’t get close enough. Couldn’t squeeze her slippery skin hard enough or bury myself as far as I needed to go. I fought against the nagging feeling that this could all just wash away.

  I have today.

  I have to make it fucking count.

  As soon as we’d made it through the door last night, we made love on the living room rug. The bedroom had been too far away. I’d awoken her sometime in the middle of the night with my fingers already buried deep inside her. Slow, sleepy sex left us tangled in sweaty sheets till early morning, but my need for her still felt insatiable.

  Pressing her forward now, I adjusted the nozzle of one wall jet, forcing bursts of water straight against her clit. Her mouth opened wide, shocked by the sensation it created. Her eyes met mine, glassy and drugged by the burning need to fall over the edge.

  I slowed my thrusts, holding her right on the cusp of oblivion. The sound of our wet skin smacking together synchronized with my own panting gasps.

  I was barely holding myself together.

  Her head fell back. Tormented by the delicious rhythm, she started pressing against me, forcing her ass to meet my hips. I stared down at it, roughly palming her round flesh, fighting the need to give in and plow deeper. Her arms lifted up behind my neck, pulling my lips back down to hers. She smiled against the onslaug
ht of my mouth.

  My hands slid up her body, gripping her breasts so I could pull her back harder against me. Her hands came down to press overtop my own, gaining more traction as she moved even faster, taking what she pleased. Her muscles clenched, running up and down the length of my cock with white-hot strength.

  “Holy fuck, baby girl.”

  I gave in. I could never deny Ashley anything, and the animal inside me couldn’t hold off anymore. I grabbed ahold of her hips and increased my pace as her palms splayed flat against the wall in front of her.

  “Please, please, please.” The words strung together in one long plea as she wound tighter around me. Her mouth fell open again as her legs started to shake.

  Wet skin smacked harder. She screamed as her cunt started fisting around me like a vise.

  I slowed down as the tension left her body, like a taut piece of string that had finally snapped. She laughed and turned her head again. Fluttering eyes opened to meet mine.

  “Sorry. You turn me into such a screamer. I always thought those chicks in the porn videos were faking.”

  “I’m not sorry at all.” I thrust into her slow and lazy, letting her come down from the high.

  I kept fighting back the regret that I’d left her long enough for other men to have her. Blocking out the mental images was hard enough. Wondering if she’d screamed for them made me nearly insane.

  I kissed the side of her neck and mumbled in her ear, “But let’s talk about the porn you’re apparently watching ’cause I could be down with that.”

  I chuckled as she reached back to swat me on the chest.

  We smiled at one another, goofy, holy-shit grins that made too many nerve endings burn again. I pulled out and pumped my dick in my hand before spinning her around to face me.

  “I’m not done with you,” I murmured against her mouth.

  I pressed the creamy flesh of her breasts together in my hands. My dick bobbed up and down against her belly, overeager to reconnect. Leaning down, I sucked one of the puckered nipples into my mouth, softly biting her before laving at it with a flat tongue. Water bounced off the back of my neck, splashing down onto her skin, as her fingers tugged at my hair, holding me down to her.

  My hands squeezed their way down her body, following the rivulets of water that pooled in lines down her soft skin. Pressing her back against the wet tiles, I knelt down, curling two fingers inside her as my tongue darted back and forth across her sensitive clit.

  “Brayden. God. So, so good. I don’t think I can . . .” Her body started quivering again. Her nails dug into my scalp. “I can’t . . . I can’t . . . oh, Jesus.”

  She came on my tongue again, laughing and gasping for air at the same time. As I slowed my ministrations, she pushed against my shoulders, forcing me down against the tiled floor.

  “You know I hate that word, can’t,” I said, leaning back onto my forearms as she straddled my hips.

  “I know.” She smiled and brushed the wet hair back off her face. “But I might keep saying it ’cause I really like the way you fuck it right out of me.”

  I hissed out a breath from her dirty words and from watching her slide down to her knees, positioning herself to sink down onto me. She took me in so slowly, one fucking delicious inch at a time. Making me want to mutter that same damn word because I didn’t know if my dick could take the torture. My mouth fell open against another panting exhale.

  She grinned like the devil in a skirt and crown. “I’m not done with you either,” she whispered wickedly against my mouth.

  Her arms tangled around my shoulders as I let my arms slide out from under me, lying all the way back against the wet tiles. She sat up, lacing her fingers through mine as she began to swivel her hips in mind-fuckingly shallow circles. Then, in one swift motion, she sank all the way down onto me.

  I cried out her name as she made that sound.

  The one I freaking dreamt about.

  It vibrated in the back of her throat as she tilted her head back and let the water soak down over her hair. Her breath came out in short gasps. I could already feel her start to bear down. Her hips rolled forward and back, working me just the way she wanted. I braced my elbows back and drove up to meet her.

  “God, you’re beautiful when you’re about to come all over my dick.”

  That throaty sound exploded again as I felt her fall over the edge.

  I sat up, twisting our legs together as I fiercely hugged her body to mine, feeling her nipples slide against my chest. I couldn’t hold off much longer. Couldn’t fight the need to get off.

  Or to say the things exploding in my head.

  I kissed her temple, her cheeks, and her lips. She giggled lightly, a short, happy sound that filled up my damned soul. She buried her face in my neck, biting lightly across my collarbone.

  My body begged for release.

  So did my heart.

  I mouthed the words I needed to say.

  Silently.

  Over and over again against her wet hair.

  She pulled back, so her hands could cup my face. Hooded eyes stared down at my lips before her mouth captured my own. We stayed like that. Connected. With no space, or worry, or hesitation between us.

  One day.

  I only had one day left to build on that feeling.

  We don’t always recognize the moments in life where we hit a fork in the road. Paths merge right in front of us. Blind curves materialize, twisting our actions before we can see a final destination. We make crucial decisions and don’t even realize they’ll alter our course.

  But I knew. Without a doubt.

  We were finally standing in the spot where two roads diverged. Today, I had to convince her to keep walking toward me. Brick by brick, I had to lay the groundwork.

  I would never get this shot again.

  She leaned back on her forearms. The extra space should have stretched our connection, but it only made it more intense. We stared at one another and then watched as our bodies joined in the most elemental of ways.

  “Brayden, come with me. Please.”

  I couldn’t fight it anymore. I had to give in.

  I would give her anything. All of me. Whatever she wanted. I had to make her see that. Tears I didn’t want her to see burned the whites of my eyes.

  I quickly pulled out of her, spinning her body and gripping her breasts to spoon myself around her. She whimpered as she turned her head to look back over her shoulder. I drove my tongue into her mouth as I reached between her legs to stroke circles across her clit. She started to ride my wrist without shame.

  She whispered my name against my lips. “I need you inside me.”

  “Hold on to my neck, baby.”

  She reached her arms back, doing as she’d been told for once. I watched my dick slide in between her folds, disappearing, as she gasped. I held her tight, trying to work her without sliding across the wet floor. Both of our chests were heaving like we’d just run a race.

  “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” I chanted and groaned, fighting against the impossible tightness in my balls. “It’s you, Ashley. Swear to fucking God, it’s always been you, baby girl.” Those words were as close as I could get to the three I wanted to say.

  She knew I was on the edge. My dick hardened like steel, driving inside her. Her head turned again. She stared into my eyes with wordless intensity.

  Believe me, baby.

  Believe in me.

  We stayed locked like that until the burning forced both our mouths open wide.

  “Fill me up, Brayden,” she begged in a low, husky tone. “Give me everything.”

  Her words threw me over.

  Everything. Everything.

  You’re my everything.

  Both arms circled around her, holding her back against my chest, sheltering her from the hard tiles, as I pistoned ferociously. I spilled into her in hot spurts that forced her to throw her head back against my neck as she came one more time.

  Her body slackened against mine, as spent
physically, as I suddenly felt emotionally.

  I drew her back to me again, kissing her shoulder, her neck, and the skin beneath her ear. I wanted to whisper the words again. They smoldered like jet fuel spilled inside my brain. I mouthed them against her cheek.

  “I think we’ve sufficiently christened your shower.” She giggled.

  I grinned. “You don’t know how many times I’ve already christened this shower while chanting your name.”

  She turned, looking up at me with such happiness I just about gave in and said everything I wanted to out loud. The smile on her face filled dark spaces I’d kept covered up for way too long.

  The last time I’d seen it, we’d been standing in her mother’s kitchen. She was busy packing a picnic while I tried to cop a feel.

  Now, she was back in my arms, finally letting the weight on her shoulders temporarily slide away. She was my Ashley again. Young and carefree.

  One day.

  God help me. It has to be enough.

  Stay. Stay. Stay.

  I had to convince her to walk alongside me.

  To choose a shared path.

  I’d never be able to let her go.

  25

  Pavement

  Ashley

  “I didn’t mean it as an offense. I just think it’s kinda weird,” I said, laughing, as Brayden leaned over the bowl to take another spoonful. “You have milk on your chin,” I added, dropping the spoon back into the bowl, so I could wipe the dribble away from dark stubble.

  To my gleeful surprise, he’d produced a box of Cocoa Puffs he kept hidden in the back of a pantry cabinet.

  “I knew you had a stash somewhere.” I’d jumpy-clapped, before hopping up to sit on the counter as he poured a big bowl.

  He stood in front of me, positioned between my legs so we could share. Hyped up on sex and sugar, I felt a hundred eighty degrees different than the previous morning.

  “I mean, haven’t you ever noticed that your feet never touch the sidewalk? You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

  “I really haven’t, to be honest,” he replied, feeding me again.