I cup her face, bringing her lips to mine. “What is it, Molly?”
“Kiss me,” she says, fondling her breasts again.
“Didn’t you just have three or four orgasms?” I feel smug knowing I made her feel that good.
“I want four more,” she says and wraps her arms around my neck.
“You can have anything you want, Molly. Use me for what you want.” I flick my tongue out, licking her bottom lip. She meets me with her own, and we start licking each other until she grabs the back of my head and drives her tongue down my throat.
I groan when she sucks my tongue into her mouth and lets it go. My eyes roll to the back of my head. It is like a direct link to my cock, causing a little more come to spurt from the tip.
“Anything?” she asks.
“Anything.”
She rolls over and grips the edge of the mattress, using it as leverage to sink backwards onto my cock. I wrap my arms around her tight and pull her close, not wanting an inch of space between us.
This time, the sex isn’t urgent. It doesn’t take over our bodies. She slides up and down on my cock, slow with unsure movements, but I’ve never felt anything better in my entire life. We stay like this, making love until the morning light peaks through the curtains and exhaustion takes us into dreams.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Molly
I wake up with a soreness between my legs that I’ve never had before. It isn’t painful—more like a really amazing ache that I want every single day for the rest of my life. I hide my smile in a pillow that smells like Caden. I stretch, and the covers slip down my chest, revealing my boobs.
“Oh,” I comment as I look down at them to see that they are covered with bruises and red marks, like bites. My cheeks heat from the memory. He had a goal last night to make me come by only playing with my tits. It took a while, but it worked. Oh, it worked soooo good. So, so good.
I sit up, running my hands over the large covers that spread across the bed. I reach to the left side, hoping to find Caden, but my hand hits nothing but air. I turn my head to see that it is empty. I bring my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around myself, feeling vulnerable. I’m such a fool to think I’d wake up with his arms wrapped around me.
“Stupid,” I whisper and throw the covers off myself, seeing the mess all over my body. Our bodily fluids mixed with a little blood coat my thighs, and my world stops. Feeling the evidence is one thing, but seeing it is another. Snatching one of his T-shirts from the laundry hamper. I swing the door open and race down the stairs, tears brimming my eyes. I waited all those years and for what? To be left like some used chew toy?
Last night, I told myself that it was a one night stand, so why did it bother me so much to wake up alone, without him?
“Woah, where is the fire?”
His voice stops me in my tracks, and I wipe the tears from my face. I pull down the hem of his shirt, stretching it as far as it can go. “What? Nothing?” Okay, now I am stupid. He was here the entire time.
I’m that girl. I’m the virgin girl who falls in love with the guy who takes her virginity. It’s pathetic. But that doesn’t make it less true.
He drops the spatula next to the pan, running toward me. He holds my face in his large hands and wipes my cheeks to get the excess water off. “What’s going on? What’s wrong? Talk to me, sunshine.”
I love it when he calls me that.
“It’s silly.” I avert my eyes to the floor, not wanting to look at his worried face.
“Nothing you can say would ever be silly.” The honesty in his voice makes guilt eat at my stomach.
I swallow my insecurity and twist my fingers together. “I thought…” And the damn tears start to burn my eyes again. I take a deep breath and try to explain myself again. “I thought…”
“You thought, what, sunshine?”
“I thought you left, okay? I thought you left me. I felt dirty and used.” I pull at the hem on my shirt again, covering up the evidence making me feel dirty.
He glances down, furrowing his brows, and looks up at my face again. He doesn’t get it. I sigh and lift my shirt, showing him the mess on my thighs. “Oh. Oh! Wait. You thought after last night, I’d leave you like that? I’d never do that to you. Let me run you a bath. I should have taken better care of you last night. I was being selfish. I should have never let you wake up like that. I’m so sorry, sunshine.” He kisses me on the forehead, embracing me in a tight hug. “Let me turn off the stove, and I’ll run you a nice, hot bubble bath, yeah?”
I nod, pushing a piece of hair behind my ear. “That sounds nice. I’d like that.”
He kisses my forehead again before walking back to the stove and turning it off. “I left to make you breakfast. I never would have left you all alone after a night like that.” He walks by me and holds out his hand. “Come on. Come with me.”
I bite my bottom lip between my teeth and slide my palm into his. He pulls me behind him, going back up the steps. I hiss a little from how raw I feel between my legs. It hurts, but when I think about what we did all night, it is worth all the pain. He opens the bathroom door and I get a little giddy when I see how large the garden tub is. It can fit three people, easily. And with how big Caden is, it’s just the right size.
He turns the knobs of the tub, pouring bubble bath and something that smells like lavender into the bathtub. “Are you okay? Are you hurt or anything? I was rough a few times last night. And early this morning. Twice. Three times, if you count—”
I slap his chest, remembering all the times he is talking about. “I know what you are talking about, and yes, I am a little sore, but only in the best possible way. I promise.” My stomach turns when I think about the next topic, I need to breach with him. “Um, there is something else we need to talk about that we didn’t talk about before.”
“Talk to me, sunshine.” He swirls the bubbles around in the tub and lifts himself off the edge, taking off his shirt.
That’s when I notice all the scratch marks on his back. Good. I’m glad I’m not the only one that came from last night unscathed. I scratch my right arm, feeling a bit nervous, and a little afraid. “So”—I rub my neck, wondering if this is a good idea— “last night, it was amazing—”
“Yeah it was.” He shoots me a wink in the mirror and puts toothpaste onto two toothbrushes.
“Definitely. Listen, we didn’t use protection.” Well, that came out more blunt than I intended it to.
It doesn’t seem to affect him. He hands me the toothbrush and starts brushing his teeth, like what I just said doesn’t have an impact on him. “Did you hear me?” I ask, staring at him in the mirror, trying not to get distracted by the ridges of his abs or the valley carving his hips.
He spits in the sink and washes the toothbrush under the faucet. “Yeah, I did.”
“You aren’t worried?” I start brushing, too, trying to get the morning breath off my tongue.
He shakes his head and takes off his gym shorts, revealing that thick cock. It slaps against his thigh like a heavy piece of meat. I don’t know how something of that size can fit into something as small as me. “I’m not worried at all. Do you know how hard it is to get pregnant? Plus, when someone is on birth control… I’m not worried.”
I start to sink into the tub and pause, staring at him with confusion. “Wait, what? What makes you think I’m on birth control? I’m not on birth control. I was a virgin!” I panic, thinking about all of the consequences that can happen.
“Woah, hey. It’s alright.” He sinks into the tub, settling behind me. “Next time we will be smarter. We will use protection from now on?”
Right. I let out a sigh of relief. “That’s good. Yeah, that’s fine. Sorry. Talk about a miscommunication.”
“That’s my fault. I assumed, like an asshole. I shouldn’t have assumed. I thought all women were on it. Shows what I know, right?” He takes the loofa, dips it into the bubbles, and rubs it along my shoulders. It’s soothing.
> “It’s my fault, too. You weren’t the only one participating last night.”
“How sad would that have been? To wake up and know it was just a dream? I’d be devastated.”
My chuckle ends on a moan when he starts massaging my shoulders. “That feels so good.”
We sit there, just enjoying each other’s company and the warmth of the tub. It feels natural. He continues to squeeze the bubbles onto my skin, the loofah ghosting over my body, and I shut my eyes, tilting my head to the side when he moves up my neck.
“So, tell me something I don’t know about you, Molly.”
I swirl the bubbles around, trying to think of one thing he doesn’t know about me. “You know everything. We have known each other for a while. I don’t know what to tell you.”
“We have known each other, sure.” He squeezes the loofah on my shoulder again. “ But we were always at each other’s throat. Besides your wicked tongue, I don’t know much about you, Molls.”
“Oh, that’s very true. Maybe I should keep you guessing. It will keep you on your toes.”
“Like you could ever keep me off my toes. Come on.” He snorts.
I hit my hand against the water, splashing him in the face with bubbles. “You better watch it.”
He kisses my shoulder, running the loofah down my arm. “Tell me something. Come on.”
“I have to wear socks on hardwood floors, like I have to. Hardwoods floors are always dirty, and I feel it on my feet.” I shiver from the thought of dust and whatever else sticks to skin. “It’s gross. And let’s not forget about how cold they get. They get freezing. I like that this house is mostly carpet.”
“You are so weird.” His entire body moves as he laughs.
“Shut up!” I splash him again, smiling from how infectious his happiness is.
“Tell me another weird thing.”
“I always have to have a blanket around me. It doesn’t matter how warm it is. If I am sitting in a chair at home or lying in bed, I need a blanket. Makes me feel all warm and cozy. Oh, and I like hot sauce on popcorn.”
“That is disgusting.”
“Have you ever tried it?”
“No. I don’t need to. You weirdo.”
I spin around, straddling his waist, and lean in, whispering, “I am not weird. Call me that one more time and I won’t have sex with you.”
“Please, I’ll have you begging for me in less than two minutes.” He wraps his arms around me, pressing his hardening cock against my stomach.
“Two minutes? Wow. You can’t do better than that?” I tsk, trailing my finger down, down, down, until I cup his heavy sack.
This time, he spins around, placing my back against the tub. My legs are out of the water, and they naturally wrap around his waist. He rubs his lips across mine, not giving me a kiss, but teasing me, pulling away, and coming back in like that, driving me insane—just like he knew it would. One hand holds my ass while the other holds the back of my neck. “How are you feeling, sunshine?”
“A little sore, but not so bad that I can’t handle you again.” I wrap my fingers around his cock, lifting my brows when I find him long and hard.
“Is that right?” He places a soft kiss against my lips.
I spread my legs wider, giving him an open invitation. “Yes,” I hiss. I squeeze his shaft making him groan. “I want to feel you again. I want to feel your come inside me one more time.”
His eyes roll to the back of his head, and he takes a deep breath. “That tongue.”
“What about it?”
He slides his cock all the way inside me, and I gasp from the pleasure. I expected pain, like before, but it was far from it. “It’s wicked. And after I fuck this tight, pussy. I’m going to fuck your mouth, and maybe it will teach you a lesson.”
I moan when he hits a certain spot inside me. “It’s only going to teach me to be more wicked.”
“Sounds fun.” He growls, pulling his cock out and slamming the hard steel back inside me.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Caden
It’s been a few weeks since Molly and I first had sex, and ever since then, we haven’t been able to take our hands off each other. And we learned from last time. We don’t ever have sex without a condom. Secretly though, I don’t want to wear one. But that's not what we decided on, so I'll obviously respect our decision. Even though we have known each other for a long time, being intimate is completely different, and I don’t ever want to rush her.
But I can’t help the urge. It’s there, pulsing under my skin.
There is one thing that is holding me back, though. I need permission from Brandon, and since I can’t actually talk to him, a visit is in order.
I follow the narrow road of the cemetery, passing hundreds of graves as I make my way toward Brandon’s tombstone. I glance at the scotch sitting in the passenger seat. I always thought that the only times I would ever drink this expensive shit would be with Brandon. I never thought I’d be bringing a bottle to his grave, though. Not quite what I pictured
I pull over on the side of the road to make sure I’m not blocking anyone else from seeing their loved ones. I keep my fingers on the keys dangling from the ignition, and as I turn the car off, I slam my head against the headrest, letting out a sigh in the process. My phone buzzes again, and I roll my head as I stare at the reminder on my damn phone about that stupid voicemail Brandon left me the night he died. I scoff, shoving the phone in my pocket. I grab the scotch by the neck as I climb out of the car door, stepping onto the pavement damp from the light rain.
“Hi,” I nod to a sobbing woman who is being held by her husband. He returns my greeting with a sad smile. “I hate cemeteries,” I mumble after they are a safe distance away, turning toward the old oak tree that Brandon and Amelia are buried under. “Here we go,” I say as I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. I don’t know why I’m nervous. Brandon is dead. It isn’t like he can punch me in the face or anything, but he can decide to haunt me. If I believed in that kind of stuff, which I don't think I do, but I don’t know how the world works, so I can’t be too surprised if he gives me nightmares for the rest of my life.
The breeze mixes with the rain, blowing it onto my face, cooling my nerves, and heating my skin. The bottoms of my pants get wet from the blades of grass brushing against them, and my shoes sink into the soft earth, taking me toward their tombstone. I shrug off my jacket and set it on the ground against the tree roots as I sit down. The canopy of the branches blocks the rain, the leaves acting as a net.
Unscrewing the bottle of expensive scotch, I read the words engraved in the stone staring back at me.
Brandon Erick Lowell
January 15, 1985 − June 13, 2018
A father, a husband, a brother, and a friend.
Rest in love.
My fingers dig into the knot of my tie and loosen it, my gaze going to the stone next to his, which is Amelia’s. It says nearly the same thing. I sigh, leaning my head back against the body of the oak. I watch the leaves sway in the wind, water dripping off every few seconds and trickling down my cheek.
I pour a little bit of the scotch onto Brandon’s grave, and I go to do the same on Amelia’s grave but then I stop. “Maybe I shouldn’t. Last I can remember, you hate scotch. I don’t want you to roll around in your grave or anything.” I wince from how harsh that sounds. “Sorry, that came out wrong. I just didn’t bring any of the bitch beers—your words—that you like so much. I’m sorry. A lot has been going on. It’s kind of why I’m here.”
I take a swig, letting the burn build in my throat. “Wow! That is a lot stronger than I remember. I might need to take an Uber home if we drink too much. Think they will come out here?” I say with a painful chuckle, taking another swig of the strong whiskey. I swirl the dark amber in the bottle, staring at the flecks of grey against the stone. I swallow the emotion in my throat and rub my hand over the ground in front of Brandon's headstone. It’s still fresh, like they just got buried. The
grass hasn’t even grown over it yet.
I pour another shot and bring the bottle to my mouth, taking a long gulp. “I miss you. I miss you both so much. Things aren’t the same without you.” I pinch the bridge of my nose and let out a sad chuckle. “I mean, who thought we would be here, huh?” I take another swig, knowing that I need to slow down, but I also know that I won’t. No need to lie to myself.
The wind blows again, sending a few leaves swirling around me. “Molly picked a beautiful spot to bury you guys. I don’t know if you can see it from where you are, but it’s right underneath a big oak tree. Like the one you proposed to Amelia under. That’s why she picked it. She wanted you guys to be buried under something that brought you peace and happiness.”
I pour another shot in the dirt. “I hope you’re happy. Wherever you are. Me? Funny you should ask. You’d be surprised, but I’m happy.” I take another drink, thinking about all the memories I have made with Molly. “First, I ask that you don’t haunt me, okay? I really don’t know how you will feel about what I'm going to tell you, and honestly, it scares the shit out of me. That’s why I brought the booze.” I tilt the bottle, spilling more than a shot on the grave. I take a gulp, too, trying to gain the courage I need to share my news with Brandon. “I’m in love with your sister.”
I wait for the slap in the face or the curse from a ghost, but nothing comes. I sigh with a little relief. My imagination can really get the best of me sometimes. “I think I’ve always been in love with her. We danced around each other for a long time all those years, but I think you knew that. I think that’s why you pulled your magic trick and made it so that we had to live together for Posie. She is doing great, by the way. Your parents…man, I don’t know what to do about your parents.”
I run my fingers through my hair with intense aggravation. “Your mom and dad haven’t seen Posie since the funeral. They call, but they won’t visit.” I turn to Amelia and pour a little of the whiskey that used to make her gag over the dirt that covers her casket. “Your dad has been awesome, by the way," I tell Amelia. "He soaks up as much time as he possibly can with her. Posie is with him now. We came up with a schedule. He sees her every other weekend. Comes all the way from Billings. He really loves her.”
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