Steve was getting sloppy with one of his BC classmates on the improvised dance floor by the juke box, and Eric was working hard not to fall off his bar stool while he checked his phone every two minutes and crooned George Michael's "Faith" every so often. Eric, as it happened, could actually sing. I was willing to bet a thousand dollars that most of his texts were drunk missives to a certain half-Korean friend of mine.
I, on the other hand, had sent my share of drunk-texts to Brandon, who was trapped in meetings at the office. Jared had kept me company at the bar and continued to ply me with alcohol and greasy food while we competed with our worst law school stories. We all sacrificed a lot to get to this point, financially and personally. The road to becoming a lawyer took a lot of time and money that most people couldn't understand. While many of our friends from college and high school were well into their careers, we were just starting now, and wouldn't be able to take a reasonable break for another several years.
"You have no idea what I've given up for this," I pronounced to Jared for the fifth time, sweeping my arms like great wings. I smacked the shoulder of a dancing classmate. "Sorry, girl."
"I bet I can beat you." Jared's voice was becoming increasingly slurred too. "Summer in Europe."
I snorted. "Oh, I'm so sorry, lil' rich boy, that you had to skip your special snowflake vacay." I held a thumb out, preparing to count. "Thanksgiving three years in a row. My grandmother's seventy-fifth birthday. Helping my dad through rehab. Missed every one of 'em."
Jared frowned at the last one. "Shit. I didn't know about your dad, Skylar. Everything okay?"
I tipped back the last of my fourth whiskey soda. "It will be. He's...got some issues." I turned to the bartender and signaled for another round, barely managing to keep myself on my barstool. "So, summer vacation? That's all you got for me, precious?"
Jared grinned and pushed his floppy brown hair off his forehead. "Okay, okay, no. I got a few more. My best friend's wedding. In Tahiti."
I shook my head so hard I almost fell off my stool. "Still a rich boy problem, but yeah, that had to hurt. But I got you again." I held out a second finger: "Spending time with my long-lost brother and sister this summer."
"Spending time with my aging grandmother. She's got rheumatoid arthritis, you know."
"Missing my sister's birthday party in New York," I shot back.
"Missing every party all summer long," Jared countered.
"All the money I could have been making to pay for my dad's rehab."
"All that gas money driving back and forth from Andover every day."
"A baby."
The words fell between us like a stone, tumbling out of my mouth in spectacular word-vomit before I could stop them. I stared at the ground, as if I could actually see the bomb I'd just dropped. The blood drained from my head, and I swayed on my seat. Did I really say that? No, no, I didn't. I couldn't have.
"You were pregnant?" Jared asked, all signs of friendly competition replaced with sharp curiosity.
Fuck.
"Uh, no," I said, trying and failing to stifle the flush racing up my neck and cheeks. "No, no, no. I was just trying to one-up you. I get kind of competitive like that sometimes."
I gave him a sheepish, probably useless smile. Jared was too busy calculating the months to notice.
"Was it Sterling's?" He tapped his chin, trying to process the news. "Does he know?"
I shook my head furiously, terror rising in my belly. Fuck, fuck, FUCK.
"Jared, it was a joke," I insisted, shifting around in my stool to try to catch his bleary, yet searching brown eyes. Do not look away, do not look away. "Look into my eyes. I. was. never. pregnant."
Did those words sound as vacant as they felt? I couldn't tell. Jared stared at me for a few more seconds, then gave a half-hearted shrug.
"All right," he said. "I hope not. That's a heck of a joke to make, Skylar."
"What's a heck of a joke?"
I turned to find Brandon elbowing his way through the crowd, standing out in his tailored suit among a crowd full of drunken, casually dressed exam-takers.
"Um, nothing," I said as I accepted his hearty kiss. "Just a dumb joke."
I pushed my glasses up my nose and shook my head infinitesimally at Jared while Brandon sat on the stool behind me. He scooted forward to straddle my seat and ordered himself an IPA. If Jared didn't think the joke was funny, Brandon definitely wouldn't like it. And, considering how well Brandon could read my face, he would probably know it wasn't a joke at all.
Jared pressed his mouth shut and took a long drink of his beer while Brandon looked him over.
"Okay, then," Brandon said. "Looks like I'm a few behind you, babe."
He pulled my frozen form against his chest. His familiar almond scent reminded me just how little I'd been able to see him in the last weeks.
"You smell good, " he murmured into my ear as he brushed my braid over one shoulder to kiss me on the neck, just under my earlobe. "Like jasmine and...tequila, is it? Not usually your drink, but I'll take it."
Jared watched us with hooded eyes, then started studying the rim of his beer glass. I didn't know why he hadn't disappeared yet; considering what had happened at the gala, this wasn't going to be anything but awkward.
Brandon paid for his drink, the arm wrapped around my waist tightened. I recognized it as the territorial move it was.
"So, Jared, right?" Brandon said over my shoulder "You think you passed?"
Jared cleared his throat. "Yeah, I think so. It's a tough test, as you know, but our class was a good one. Plus, Skylar's a great study partner."
The forearm around my midsection flexed, but Brandon's smile didn't waver. He glanced down at me and pressed a kiss to my forehead.
"I bet she is," he said. "After all, my Skylar's wicked smart."
His accent was out in full, making "Skylar" sounds like "Sky-lah" and "smart" sound like "smaht". It was either an indication of his raised anxiety or a play to intimidate Jared. Considering that Jared was a rich kid from the suburbs who would be very familiar with the class tensions in Boston, I was guessing the latter.
"Thanks," I said, finally finding my voice again. "She's also sitting right here, so you guys can stop talking about her like she's not."
Brandon squeezed my waist again while Jared looked mildly contrite.
"So, do you have any plans for the break, Jared?" Brandon asked, affecting a kinder voice. "I'm assuming your grandfather is giving you one, right?"
I tried to elbow him, but only hit the bar. The contact sent an arrow of pain up my arm. I winced and grasped my elbow. Brandon immediately cupped the spot with his hand and started to massage like he had been planning to do that the entire time. I would have brushed him off, but it felt really, really good. Damn it.
Jared took a sip of his beer and cleared his throat as he took in Brandon's familiarity with my body. "Um, yeah," he said. "Two weeks off, like everyone else. I'm heading to St. Bart's with friends to blow off some steam. What about you, Skylar?" He looked at me as if Brandon wasn't there.
I shrugged. "Not much. I'll probably go down to visit my family in New York, take it easy for a bit."
"Actually, I had a surprise planned," Brandon said quietly enough that I wasn't sure that Jared could even hear him.
He set an envelope down in front of me. I picked it up. This wasn't grandstanding anymore; Brandon had come prepared with a gift.
I twisted around to find an adorable puppy-dog expression on Brandon's face. He looked hopeful, yet tentative. I couldn't blame him for being nervous; I didn't have the best track-record of accepting his gifts. But things were different now. We had a different level of trust, and I had finally started to let my issues about that sort of thing go.
"What is it?" I asked as I examined the envelope. "What did you do?"
"Open it," he said, blue eyes sparkling with anticipation.
Inside the envelope were several pamphlets of various locations in South France, and a slip bea
ring a confirmation for a flight bound to Toulouse.
"You got me a trip to France?" I stared at the papers with wide eyes, not quite believing what I saw. "Really?"
Slowly, like he was next to a wild animal, Brandon nodded.
"I thought maybe you'd like to make some better memories there than you did in Paris," he said. "You deserve a break, Red. You've been through a lot the last few months. If you don't want to go here, we could go somewhere else. I just thought now was a good time to get away." With a quick glance at Jared, who was still watching with an increasingly dark expression, Brandon added, "Together."
I looked at the confirmation slip again, which had both of our names on it. We were supposed to leave the day after tomorrow.
"Can you afford to take all this time?" I asked quietly. "It's not like you don't have your own stuff to deal with right now."
Brandon just pressed another chaste kiss on my cheek that promised more than it showed.
"The truth?" he asked.
I nodded.
"I might have booked our flight the second you agreed to come to dinner that night." He gave a sheepish smile. "I might have been planning this for a while."
Slowly, unbidden, an ear-splitting grin spread across my face until it felt like my cheeks were going to crack in half. Suddenly I was so excited, I was practically vibrating in my seat.
"Toulouse?" I asked again, my voice hitching up another octave. "Really?"
Two weeks in Toulouse. In the summer. Alone with Brandon. I literally could not think of anything better.
"For a night," Brandon said, now with a megawatt grin that mirrored my own. "Then we would go down to Marseille. Mark agreed to loan us his villa on the water."
Okay, except that. That was definitely better!
"What do you say, Red?" Brandon asked, picking up one of my hands and bringing it to his lips. "Will you go to France with me?"
The question was so formal and out-of-character for Brandon, such an obvious attempt not to go overboard (despite the extravagance of the gift), that my heart squeezed and my response came freely.
"Yes!" I sprang out of my seat, threw my arms around his neck, and peppered his laughing face with kisses. "Yes-yes-yes-yes-YES!"
Brandon laughed as he held me off the ground, causing a few of my classmates to turn around and smile at us.
"Well," I said with a grin to Jared as I was set back down. He looked like he was going to be sick. "I guess I'm going to France for my vacation."
Jared immediately pasted a polite smile on his face. "That sounds great," he said. Then he looked over my shoulder and waved at someone. "Excuse me. Just going to say hi."
Brandon watched him go with a satisfied expression that was far too similar to a lion who had just kicked out the weaker member of the pride. I elbowed him in the gut.
"You could wipe that smug expression off your face, Sterling. It was never a contest."
"I know, Red," Brandon said. "That guy couldn't handle you anyway." His expression dropped to a frown as he considered something. "But I'm glad you're not going to be studying together anymore. I don't like the way he looks at you."
"How's that?"
Brandon looked at me with a positively predatory gleam. "Like you're something to eat."
I stared at him with my mouth open, something in his feral expression robbing me of my capacity to speak. Brandon revealed a few white teeth with a half-smile, then slipped an arm around my waist and pulled me against his tall, hard form.
"Are you ready to celebrate alone yet?" he asked with a quick nip to my earlobe.
I shuddered as his hands slid down to cup my ass and squeeze gently. I stepped out of his embrace, concerned I might combust right there in the bar, in front of all of my future colleagues, if I let Brandon keep touching me like that.
He just smiled again, baring his teeth like a lion on the hunt. I was his prey, and I couldn't be happier about it.
~
Chapter 30
I woke up the next morning with wide rays of sunlight streaming through my bedroom window. It was the one time of day where the light managed to slip between the brick buildings my window faced, and they landed directly on my eyes.
The other side of my bed was rumpled and empty. Brandon was nowhere to be seen.
I rolled to my back and stared up at the ceiling. The rest of the night had been a blur after Brandon had taken me home and we had continued "celebrating" my vacation well into the night. Perhaps it was that, or the copious amounts of water I'd drunk in between mind-bending orgasms, but I wasn't nearly as hungover as I should have been.
My door opened, and Brandon backed into the room carrying a tray of drinks and food. I was hit with a sense of déjà vu. How many times had I dreamed exactly this while we were apart?
His broad shoulders filled the small doorway, a golden expanse of muscle, clad as he was in just a pair of boxer briefs that clung to every perfect curve of his ass.
"Did Eric get a look of you like that?" I asked as I sat up, not bothering to hold my sheet against my naked body. With Brandon, I had no shame. "I'm pretty sure seeing his boss in his underwear would qualify as awkward and uncomfortable."
"No. But I'm too damn hungry to care anyway."
Brandon turned around as the door shut, revealing a tray loaded with tea and bagels. His hair stood out in a wavy riot around his head; vaguely, I remembered clenching that mane a lot last night, urging him on as he feasted on my breasts and other body parts. I shivered and blushed.
He looked down at my bare breasts and the pink rising over my skin, and his friendly smile turned savage, a change also evident in the bulge in his briefs.
"On second thought, breakfast can wait."
Brandon set the tray on my side table before he crawled over the bed and completely covered me.
"Good morning," he murmured as he caged me against the bedding, positioning his long body over mine.
Considering what was currently pressed between my legs, it was a very good morning indeed. I grinned into his lips. He teased my mouth open with his soft lips and twisted his tongue around mine.
"Fuck," he murmured. "It just never stops, does it?"
"What's that?" I asked before he dove in for another kiss.
"The wanting," he said as he licked and nipped at my neck. "You. Always."
I arched into him, luxuriating in the feel of his big body.
"No," I said as my hands found their familiar clutch in his waves while his mouth moved lower to pull the tip of one breast, then the other. "It doesn't."
His reached to tug his briefs down, and kicked them and the sheets off the bed before situating himself between my thighs. I winced slightly as he entered me.
"Too much?" he asked, although by the look on his face, it wouldn't have really mattered.
"It's fine," I breathed, and grabbed his ass to push him further in. "But you're not wasting time, are you?"
"I can't wait," he said with a shudder as he slid fully in. "You feel too good."
His hips moved lazily in slow, languid circles, taking time to enjoy the friction of each movement. Covered by his wide shoulders, his lips on my neck and cheeks, I luxuriated in the feel of him. Of us. There was nowhere else.
"I want to try something," he whispered in my ear. "I need...fuck, Skylar. I need all of you."
He turned me over, pushed into me again from behind once, twice, before he pulled out and tugged my hips up toward him. I tensed as I felt him nudging a bit higher, just at my other entrance, the one that pretty much no one had ever touched. Actually, scratch that––no one at all.
"What––what are you doing?" I stuttered, although to my surprise, my hips pushed back instinctively.
"All of you," Brandon murmured again as he moved away and teased me with a finger. My whole body shuddered. "Will you let me?"
"I...you..."
I couldn't speak as inch by inch, he eased himself into the unbearably tight space.
"Is this okay?" Brando
n bent down to cover my back with his warm, hard body. His voice rumbled low next to my ear.
I shifted, letting my body adjust to the feel of him. "Yes," I finally breathed. "Keep––keep going."
He pushed in a bit more.
"Fuuuuuuuck," he breathed. "Jesus Christ, you're tight here."
"I'm...I...Brandon...please..."
I could barely get out any coherent words. I was just...so...full. Somehow, Brandon managed to reach into the drawer of my nightstand and pull out the small bottle of lubricant I kept there. I heard the sound of the bottle being opened and a quick squirt of the cold gel, before he pulled out slightly to apply it to where our bodies met. Then he pressed back in. I gave an animal groan.
"You can take it, baby," he said as he seated himself fully. "That's it, Skylar."
Brandon started to move, slowly at first, letting me acclimate to his size and the feel of him there, but then slowly picked up the pace until eventually he was thrusting into me just as hard as he had anywhere else. His hand on my ass disturbed the quiet with a loud crack.
"Ah!" I cried, my eyes clenched against the sweet combination of pain and pleasure.
"You like that?" Brandon growled behind me. His hand slapped down again, the rest of him ramming into me mercilessly. "You like it when I give it to you hard like this? When I fuck this gorgeous ass, baby?"
"I...please..." There were no words. I literally had no words anymore, and his were going to undo me.
My hand fell limp beneath me. My whole body was starting to feel limp. Brandon leveraged my hips up slightly higher, then reached down with one hand on my clit. I moaned against the feel of his mouth on my neck, the carved muscles warm against my back.
"That's it," he murmured into my neck. His teeth latched on to my earlobe as he pressed himself deeper, harder. "Fuck. You can't run from me now, Skylar, can you?"
Running? Who was running?
"Brandon!" I moaned. I was so close...soooo close. "Brandon, please!"
His thumb flicked against my clit. "Come," he growled. "Now!"
"Aaaaahhh!" I cried.
Legally Mine (Spitfire Book 2) Page 32