Shameless

by Lex Martin

  “I thought we’d already established that.” His sexy voice sends goose bumps down my arms.

  “Mmm,” I moan when he hits that spot between my shoulder blades.

  His jeans scratch my thighs, but I’m enjoying his attention too much to mention it. Besides, I know he’ll be naked soon too.

  Smiling into the pillow, it’s hard not to feel carried away when Brady ordered my favorite pizza, fed me, and is now giving me the world’s best massage.

  When he kisses my shoulder, my heart flutters in my chest.

  “Katherine, can I ask you something?”

  I still, wondering why he’s using my full name, which is something he really only says when we’re having sex.

  “Sure.”

  “The promotion you did for today…” He doesn’t need to finish that statement because I know where this is headed. “Where did you learn that? In your last job?”

  I nod, hating that my dream job has become such a source of embarrassment.

  He clears his throat. “You don’t want to talk about it.”

  I tap his thigh for him to move, and he slides down next to me and props his head up on one arm before he threads his fingers through my hair. I stare at his tattoos, knowing that sharing about myself will make the end of us that much harder. “I don’t mean to be mysterious. It’s just that it’s tied into a lot of things I’m not really proud of.”

  He nods, but I can see he’s curious.

  Taking a deep sigh, I pull up the covers so I’m not so naked and return my attention to him. “It’s nothing terrible, really. I’m probably being a drama queen. But I’ve always been a really private person. You get used to being at the center of people’s ire when you’re the kid of migrant workers, so I’ve learned it’s better to keep my mouth shut.” I don’t say the rest. What’s on the tip of my tongue. So no one can hurt me.

  His lips form a straight line, and I trace the outline of the ouroboros on his chest. “I worked as a public relations specialist for Senator Harrington.” I nibble my bottom lip, hating that I have to say more.

  “That’s a big job right out of college,” he observes.

  “It helped that I was dating his son, who also worked on the senator’s re-election campaign.” I shake my head. “I mean, that’s not why I was dating him. Eric and I met in college. He asked me out a few times, but I always declined. I finally agreed to go out with him near the end of our senior year. I knew the guy was driven, and he talked about going into politics. I liked that he seemed passionate about making a difference. He introduced me to his father at graduation. Next thing I knew, Senator Harrington was offering me a job.”

  His lips twitch, and I say it before he gets the chance to. “Yeah, totally suspicious, right? But what the hell did I know? I was a poor college grad who needed a job, and here was one of the most respected men in the state giving me a great opportunity. Never mind that I’m not even a Republican.”

  Brady chuckles, and that hand comes down to rest on my hip as I continue. “But I did follow politics, and I knew at the heart of his campaign was fracking reform. And as you know, I’m passionate about the issue. Which is why, at Eric’s graduation dinner, I might have told the senator his platform was a little flimsy and that if he really wanted to make a difference, he needed to restrict the number of fracking wells in the state.”

  A smile creeps out on Brady’s lips as he watches me rant. “It’s not what I would want, mind you, but I thought it would be a big step in the right direction. If it were up to me, it would be banned, plain and simple, but I’m not fool enough to think that will ever happen. But when the senator told me I had impressed him and that he’d love for me to help him craft that very message on his campaign, I thought it was a dream come true. I mean, what PR grad gets offered an amazing job within hours of getting her diploma?”

  I fidget with a loose thread hanging from my sheet, hating the rest of this story. “Working for the senator was surreal. His team decided I couldn’t very well traipse across the state representing the esteemed Walter Harrington in my Target-brand threads, so they bought me clothes.”

  Clearing my throat, I continue. “And then it somehow became Eric who bought me clothes and gave me a company car and expensive phone. And then it became about me needing to talk a certain way when I spoke to the press, so we practiced getting rid of my twang so I wouldn’t come across as a hick.” Another reason why I love living on the farm. Nobody here gives a damn how I talk.

  My face burns with that admission. Brady must sense my humiliation because he tugs me closer until I’m fully wrapped in his arms. “They sound like assholes.”

  I laugh. “Yeah. Well, it got worse.” Biting my lip, I wonder how much Brady wants to hear.

  He leans down and kisses my forehead. “Babe, you don’t have to tell me if you really don’t want to.”

  That’s just it. I want to tell him. I want him to know what happened, but I’m worried it’s too much. That we’re crossing a line.

  Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I whisper, “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you. It’s that you’re leaving… and I’m worried this is more personal than you really want to hear. Most guys don’t want to hear about ex-boyfriends.”

  A deep sigh leaves him. “Truth?” He studies my face, and I nod. “I want to know everything about you, Kat. I know we should have some boundaries, but I’m having a hard time pulling back.”

  My heart thumps wildly in my chest. There it is again. Hope.

  And the million-dollar question raises its ugly head. Would he stay if he loved me?

  I decide to throw caution to the wind. Because yes, Brady makes me want to take risks. And I’ll share this with him if it means even the slightest chance of changing things between us and making us more permanent somehow.

  But I don’t get the chance because Brady squeezes his eyes shut. “I’m sorry,” he grits out. “You’re right. Let’s not do this.”

  The sharp inhale of my breath tells us both that I’m more than a little surprised. His lips brush mine. “Come on. I have a better idea.”

  He grabs my hand and leads me away from the bed before I can analyze the small cracks in my heart.

  45

  Brady

  As Katherine lowers her body into the hot, sudsy water and presses her ass between my thighs, I’m thinking this is the best damn idea I’ve ever had. Better than me unearthing her past and making her feel vulnerable.

  “Mmm,” she moans as the water rises around us. “I don’t know why I don’t take more baths.”

  I kiss her neck and she drops her head back to my shoulder. “I think I was eight the last time I took one, but now it’s my new favorite thing.”

  The steam rises around us, and I wrap my arms around Kat, enjoying how well her wet body fits against mine.

  “Better?” I ask as my lips skim her temple.

  “Mmm.”

  “Hand me your shampoo.” I motion toward the bottle, and she looks at me over her shoulder.

  “You’re gonna wash my hair?”

  “Yeah. Turn back around.”

  She stares at me, eyes wide. I lean down and run my nose against hers. “Hurry up. The sooner I’m done washing your hair, the sooner I can wash the rest of your naked parts.”

  She makes a noise of approval in the back of her throat before leaning forward so I can do my thing. I’m sure she’s fully aware her hair is the last thing on my radar right now as my dick is firmly pressed against her back.

  I’ve never washed a woman’s hair before, and I’m surprised by how much I enjoy doing this. I like taking care of Katherine, I’m finding. More than you should.

  Little moans escape her as I massage her scalp. She’s leaning against her knee, bent forward so that her wet curls trail over her slender back.

  At this angle, I can see her profile. The gentle curve of her neck. Her flushed cheeks. Those luscious pink lips.

  It’s at this moment I realize how much she trusts me.
How much she must want this, knowing full well that I’m leaving soon, and yet here she is.

  She turns back to offer a sleepy smile, those hazel eyes more naked than the rest of her, and emotion overpowers me.

  I want to offer her so much more than I can.

  Does she know how much I want her, how my thoughts are becoming more and more consumed by her? Does she realize that I reach for her at night and dread the day when she’s no longer by my side?

  All the more reasons for us to not discuss our exes.

  When I’m done washing and conditioning her hair, she collapses with her back against my chest and stretches her arms up around my neck. I drizzle body wash over her and skate my hands over every inch of her as her breath quickens. Leaning down, I lick and suck her shoulder as I caress her body. She’s slick and sudsy, and so goddamn beautiful.

  Her nipples are beaded tight, her skin a flushed pink from the hot water and steam. I massage and pinch her nipples between my fingers, thrusting slowly against her body, which is a beautiful torture.

  When I bite her neck, she sighs, sounding both delighted and in pain. “I’ll make it better, baby,” I whisper into her ear before I suck on her lobe.

  Reaching around her trim waist, I pull her higher until she’s nestled on top of my thighs, and she stretches out over me. I grab her hips and slide her ass over my aching cock.

  “Fuck, you feel so good.”

  I lick her skin, loving the breathy moan that escapes her as I squeeze her breasts. Her hips begin to move of their own accord, the sloshing water the soundtrack to the slide of our bodies.

  “Brady,” she groans. “Touch me.”

  “Put your legs up.” I spread her thighs wide. “Brace your feet on the ledge of the tub.” She leans back against me, and I tuck my knees between her legs to keep her pinned open.

  She’s panting above me as I trail my hands over the soft curves of her hips and the slope of her thighs. She’s tortured, moaning because I haven’t eased her pain, but perhaps that’s only fair play as every part of me is throbbing too.

  “Oh, God,” she whimpers as I tease her slick opening with a gentle touch.

  Her head leans back, arching against my shoulder. I breathe into her skin and whisper things I’ve only ever said to this woman.

  “Do you know how much I want you?” I slowly sink a finger into her wet heat. “Why can’t I get enough of you? Why do you feel so fucking good?”

  Her hips roll, sliding the crease of her ass against my erection.

  I grip her hair with my other hand and turn her to face me. She gasps but immediately fuses her mouth to mine as she writhes above me. I pump my finger in and out of her, circling her tight clit with my thumb, wishing I could fuck her bare.

  Suddenly, a bath seems idiotic because I know condoms aren’t really effective in a hot bath, and even though she’s on the pill, we agreed to use both. So I resign myself to letting this be about her, to making her feel good.

  But then she pulls her legs down and slides my dick between her thighs, squeezing me as she rolls her hips.

  Jesus Christ.

  She arches and twists toward me, and I swear, for as long as I live, I’ll never forget this sight. Her hungry hazel eyes. That pouty mouth. Her glistening skin.

  Water sloshes over the side of the tub as we move against each other, our breaths hot on one another’s lips. My hands move to her breasts, which shimmer in the soapy water. I’m thinking this can’t get any better when she reaches between us to press my cock tighter against her swollen pussy.

  “Katherine.” It’s all I can say before she sucks on my tongue, whimpering into my mouth as she glides against my cock.

  And then she arches up and positions me at her entrance.

  I still her hips. “Babe, we don’t have to—”

  She kisses me, her eyes urgent with emotion as she whispers, “It’s okay. I want to do this with you.”

  Her tongue darts out to lick across the seam of my lips, and my thread of control snaps.

  I sink into her, all of my nerves straining to get closer to this woman. I squeeze her breasts as delirium washes over me.

  “Oh, fuck,” I grunt against her neck.

  Swear to God, sex has never felt this good before.

  Her hips jerk, and she lets out a moan that makes me swell harder inside her tight body. I take a deep breath and try to keep myself from going over the edge.

  After a moment, I grip her hips and move her faster. “Touch yourself, baby.” I know she’s shy in this weird way, not about giving me pleasure, but about giving herself what she needs.

  Her hand disappears under the water, and I feel her fingers between her legs, dipping low to stroke where we join.

  I thrust harder.

  “Brady,” she gasps.

  “Let go, baby.”

  My hand joins hers, and I rub her swollen clit in quick circles.

  Her eyes squeeze shut as her whole body rocks against me. She thrashes, sending water everywhere when she comes, her sharp moans echoing in the small bathroom. And I follow right behind, spilling my release into her.

  I’m sure we’re going to regret tonight’s fuckfest tomorrow when we have to get up at the crack of dawn, but once we broke the seal and went without a condom, we couldn’t get enough of each other.

  I know it’s stupid, not using protection, because the last thing either of us needs is a pregnancy, and as much as I want to spend every night losing myself in her body, this can’t happen again. She and I already had the birth control talk. She’d gotten tested after she broke up with her ex, and I got tested a few months ago. I don’t think you can ever be too careful when you work with needles, so I make it a priority to make sure I’m safe.

  I’ve never gone bare. Never been tempted to. Until now.

  It’s well past two in the morning, and we’ve collapsed in her small bed. She’s draped across me, one naked thigh over mine, as her fingers drift across the lines on my chest. Most girls ask what they mean, but she never has, though I see her interest. She always studies me, her eyes drifting across my skin like she’s trying to memorize my ink.

  “They’re beautiful,” she whispers, her lips swollen from our activities.

  “They’re just lines.”

  “No, I mean it. Your tattoos are stunning.” Her finger traces the lines of the dragon on my bicep.

  “That one is for my grandfather. He died when I was little, but we were close.” I point to my chest where two figures dot the sky. “This is the constellation Gemini. It’s the first one I ever got.”

  “The twins.”

  I nod. “I was a twin, but my brother Scotty died when we were five.”

  “Oh, my God, I’m so sorry.” She rubs the image like she’s trying to soothe me.

  “What happened?”

  “He got sick. Caught pneumonia.” I lick my dry lips. “Scotty and Cal both caught a really bad flu that winter, but Scotty never recovered.” I’m quiet as I think about those old memories. “I always felt guilty that I was the stronger brother. I never got sick. Never broke a bone. Everyone always told me I was the lucky one. Except I never felt lucky.”

  I close my eyes as her finger traces under my collarbone. “That’s the ouroboros. It came next.”

  “It’s intense, like you.”

  I laugh. “I’m not that intense.”

  She pokes my ribs. “Yeah, you kind of are.” She folds her arms on my chest and peers down at me, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

  I study the slant of her nose. How her face is outlined in shadow. “Have you ever wanted a tat?”

  Her head tilts to the side. “No. Not really.” She nibbles that lip. “Well, not until now, I should say.”

  That piques my interest. “What would you get?”

  “That’s just it. How do you mark your skin forever?” She shakes her head. “I’d hate regretting it. What if I changed my mind?”

  I reach over to her desk where I saw a marker the other d
ay. “Let’s do a trial run. Tell me what you want, and I’ll draw it on you. It’ll wash off in a day or two.”

  “Really?” She smiles.

  “Yeah.” I kiss her jaw and work my way down to her neck where I take a bite.

  “Um.” She laughs. “I can’t concentrate when you’re biting me.”

  I lick the faint indentation of my teeth marks and settle back against the pillow with a sly grin. “Tell me or I’ll come up with something random and weird.”

  She pushes me. “You would not.”

  I laugh. “You’re right, sunshine. I’d draw something beautiful for you.”

  Her lips meet mine as she pushes her hand into my hair. Her mouth is soft. Sweet. It makes my chest ache.

  “Okay,” she says and rolls over onto her stomach. “I want something across my shoulders.”

  Glancing down at the pen, I realize I can’t use it. “Shit. This one’s a Sharpie.” Not sure she wants me to use a permanent marker. This stuff will wash off in a week or two, but still.

  She shrugs. “Go ahead. If you screw up, at least I won’t have to stare at it all day.”

  I smack her bare ass. “The fuck I’ll screw up.” Her laughter makes me smile as I uncap the pen and start marking her smooth skin. “I’ll tell you, though, my MFA in painting never taught me how concentrate when I’m doing this to a beautiful, naked woman in her bed.”

  “Oh, you sweet talker. And I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you have an MFA. That’s incredible,” she murmurs into her pillow. “Where’d you go to school?”

  “Boston University for my undergrad and grad school.”

  “That sounds amazing. And expensive.”

  “Trust me when I say you don’t want to see my school loans.”

  Ignoring the tight coil of anxiety that always flares when I think about my finances, I try to concentrate on Kat. On the way she’s smiling even though she’s drowsy. On the way her hair is a wild mess but so incredibly beautiful. On her gentle sigh when I caress her skin.

  When I’m done, she’s asleep, her soft breaths deep and even.

  I kiss her shoulder. “You can see it in the morning, sweetheart.”