by Leaona Luxx
“Yeah, we still offer dairy. I’m from Shallotte, North Carolina. Not far from Cherry Grove-North Myrtle Beach, South Carolina.” What the fuck? Explains the country boy drawl with the beach body. He has no idea how hot he is; I’d like to show him.
“How far? I’m not from beach world,” I deadpan, and I’m rewarded with a chuckle.
“Oh, really. Cause your accent didn’t leave me with that impression.” I laugh at his snide remark. “About thirty minutes. Give or take a few for tourists like yourself.” He crinkles his nose when he snickers.
“What do you mean, my accent, country boy? Where do you think I’m from?” This should be good, most people mistake my accent because my mother is from Boston and some of my words are a mixture of both.
He studies me for a moment, the little ‘V’ returns between his eyes. “Philly or New York maybe?”
“Upper East Side. My father’s from New York, my mother’s from Boston.” Not a bad guess, he’s very observant. No way he’s eighteen, he seems soulful.
He’s interested, that’s surprising. “It’s cool. So, how are you not a beachcomber? There are plenty of vacation spots.”
“My father worked. There was never time.” I shrug, it’s the best I can come up with.
“Sucks. Well, any time you’re down my way, I’ll make sure you become a beach bunny.” He winks with that wicked, panty-melting grin.
“Deal. Now, I’m going to kick your ass, dude.” He whips his head around, cocking his brow in question. “On the damn game. Geez.”
Games on top of games are played this weekend and not just on the console. Brannon’s southern charm and devilish good looks will make a girl swoon hard. I love spending time with him. The more I get to know him, the better I like him.
Opening doors, the ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ are genuine. He’s bossy but in the right way, not pushy. Definitely not overbearing, he’s not an asshole. I don’t think I’ve met someone so utterly comfortable with who they are in my life, especially at such a young age.
In fear of ruining the moment, I keep my questions about Ava to myself. I get it, I do. High school loves can be hard to get over, but there’s a reason he feels like he needs to take care of her. Then again, I get the impression it would be just like him to be her guardian.
“Now your turn. So, why engineering and business?” He narrows his eyes as he puckers those perfectly plump lips.
“My father’s company.” He raises his brows. “I want to take it over, show him I can do it. Even if I am a girl,” I reply flippantly as I try to dismiss my last comment.
“He old school or something?” I frown. “You know, girls can’t do what boys can?”
“In a way, I honestly think it’s just me he doesn’t believe in.” He turns to me, gazing into my eyes.
“Torrie, if I never learn another thing about you, I know you can do anything you want to do.” His hand lands on my knee as he smiles sincerely. Where has he been my twenty years of life? No way can people be this nice. Southern charm is real and alive.
“One thing for damn sure, I’ll be CEO of Harrington Holdings one day, and nothing will stop me,” I say as a matter of fact with a nod.
“I’ll be looking for a job, you know, just for future reference.” He elbows me, I giggle.
“Depends.” I glance at him to watch his reaction, his face draws, thinking.
“On what?” His brows hit his hairline.
“Will you sue for sexual harassment? Because if you’re going to work closely with me, there will be sexual harassment,” I say wiggling my eyebrows.
“Will that be listed with the sign-on bonus?” He smiles.
“It’ll be in the contract.” I wink at him, earning a bigger smile in return.
“Does your mom work?” he asks as he takes a drink of water. He licks his lips, leaving them gleaming, drawing my attention to them as I try to form a sentence.
“Ahhh—no, she doesn’t. My mother has never had to work, she’s a Wellsley girl.” His brow cocks again. “Her father had money and his father and his father.” I shrug as I wrinkle my nose.
“Oh, okay. Does she support your wanting to take over the company?” he questions.
“She does. My father, not so much. But I don’t give a shit, I’ll bust my ass until he can’t deny me.”
“Talk about determination and grit; damn girl, you wrote the book.” He bumps into my shoulder.
It’s true, I am determined to prove to my father I can damn well run his company. Hopefully, better than he can. Brannon looks at me in awe, I really like it. He listens and encourages me to go for my goals. I’m more impressed with his sheer will to survive after his dad’s death.
The hours tick away as we sit and talk. We’ve played several games, but the last hour or so has just been getting to know one another. Torrie must be the most amazing person I know. Her raw determination to become the CEO of her father’s company is awe-inspiring.
Never once did we tire of one another. I’m not even positive when the topic of my dad came back up, but it did. I didn’t hesitate to share this time. Torrie hasn’t been completely open with me about her family, so I just started talking, hoping it would encourage her.
“My dad’s death changed everything, especially me. Who I am as a person is because of him.” I hesitate, grappling with my words. “I’ve worked every day since he passed to be a better man. I fail most days, but I’ll never stop trying.”
My words must hit a chord with her, she wipes a stray tear as she turns her head. She then looks at me, staring for the longest time. Her eyes are glassy with trapped tears. Her nose wrinkles as she holds back her thoughts, making her eyes draw together and her mouth lay in a flat line. I want to say something, but my gut tells me not to. We sit quietly until she tells me what’s on her mind.
“My father is an interesting man, well, to some. He wanted a family but once my parents’ were married, they found out it would be hard to have one, a child that is. They tried several things, but my mother had miscarriages and health issues.
“My mother remained positive, knowing they would have a child one day. My father, the businessman, was skeptical. He became bitter, throwing himself into his work. It became his child, he put it first in every way. Once it had grown, he felt a man would be better suited to run it.
“Well, my father wanted a son. A son to take over his amassed empire and run it one day. They tried for years to have a child, finally giving in to get Invitro fertilization. Suddenly, Mom was pregnant. She doesn’t think it was the procedure.” She drops her head halfway through, her face pinched in what looks like pain as she fights back tears.
“You were a miracle,” I say sincerely but also trying to lighten the moment.
“Don’t say that to my father. I was a girl. Not what he ordered.” She gazes out the window as her tears fall. She disposes of them quickly, pulling herself together.
“So what? They had a girl. I think you’re pretty amazing.” I take her hand, smiling warmly. She lays hers on top, rubbing circles on it with her thumb.
“Well, he wanted a boy. That’s why my name is Torrence. Torrence Wynston Harrington. I think had Mom allowed it, he would have added the third or something.” She huffs, making us laugh as if it wasn’t a true statement, though. I think she’s serious.
I eye her skeptically. “Surely, not? Torrence, huh?” I wrinkle my nose, mimicking hers.
“Yeah. Torrie, for short. It was that or Wynnie.” She rolls her eyes as she pretends to gag.
I burst out laughing, shooting my drink across the room. “I prefer Torrie,” I choke out while cleaning the drink from my face.
“Me too,” she giggles around a yawn.
“I better hit the road. It’s seven in the morning, you need your sleep.” Leaning in, I kiss her on the forehead.
Pushing me away, she teases, “You telling me I need beauty sleep? Smooth, real smooth. And here I thought all southern men had manners.” Unmoving, I resist her. Gazing
into her eyes, the blue is impossibly darker. Making them appear troubled, like the ocean during a storm.
“Not in the least, Torrie. If you never slept another night, you would still be as beautiful as you are right now, even in a hundred years.” I lay my hand on hers, still placed in the middle of my chest.
Her face flushes, and she turns away from me. “Stop. You’re making me blush.”
Shocked by her words, my eyes widen, and my mouth hangs open. “You act as though no one has ever made you blush.”
She turns her face back to me and narrows her eyes as she admits, “Rarely. I'm not used to compliments on the regular.”
“That’s a shame. You’re flippin’ brilliant. Don’t act as if you’re not, I looked at your test the other day.” I narrow my eyes at her now. “Besides, I don’t give anyone credit if it’s not due.”
“Well, thank you. You’re not so bad yourself. That test was rough,” she replies, her gaze softening.
“You see that, did you? Yeah, brains with rugged good looks. It’s a tough life but hey, I can handle it.” Brushing my shoulders proudly, I brag. She rolls her eyes. Before she realizes it, I have her down.
I push her backward, straddling her. “Did you roll your eyes at me? Really?” Her face is pinched up as if she’s in pain, but I know she’s not. Her mouth hangs open. I’m a little worried, but she answers anyway.
“Ummm, maybe. Yes.” Squinting her eyes, she shifts them from side to side, as if she’s wondering if she did roll her eyes. With her hands pinned above her head, she’s inches from my mouth. I send up a silent wish to kiss her breathless. Inching closer, her lips part and she drags in a heavy breath as she searches my eyes. Half of my wish comes true, and I make her breathless in an entirely different way.
I tickle her, my strong fingers curling and digging at her sides playfully on their own accord. She fights against my hold, wiggling and worming her hips against me to try to get away from me. She laughs, even screams, as I continue working my fingers over her body. Her only relief comes with her last words.
“I’m gonna pee my pants!” she yells with all the air left in her lungs. I freeze, stunned at her words.
“Did you just say ‘gonna’?” I sit in wonderment at her grammar error.
“Yeah?” She scrunches her face and winces, in fear the onslaught will continue.
“Look at that, I’m already turnin’ you into a country girl.” Her face glows with pride at my acknowledgment. Her eyes shine with my small praise. Her lips part as she smiles shyly, showing me she’s received very little accolades in her life. Before she can respond, I make the other half of my wish a reality. I kiss her.
I struggle for air but refuse to stop. Her lips are soft, warm, and wanting. When her lips part ever so slightly to sweep her tongue over my bottom lip, an audible gasp escapes her. Grinning against her lips, I go in for the kill.
Parting her mouth with the tantalizing tip of my tongue, she welcomes it with a sigh. Taking control, I sweep over and under her awaiting tongue. Pulling it between my lips, I suck it. Letting it go long enough to bite her bottom lip, she draws in a breath then I finish her off.
A long, deep groan builds, crawling from within me as I take her mouth for the second time. Our tongues go to war as our lips mold together. She wraps her legs around my waist as I gain traction with my knees from the couch.
My hard cock grinds into her pussy, making me throb with each thrust. My left hand grabs her ass as I snake my right around the small of her back, lifting her so she opens to meet my every grind. My hips swivel, rubbing her clit with the seam of my pants where my cock is about to burst from its confines.
Our mouths mimic every move, fucking the way it feels we want to. A low growl rumbles through my chest as I take her tongue into my mouth, swirling it over and under. I’m lost to the pounding rhythm of our bodies, doing everything they long to do without doing it.
I pull back with a look of frustration and anxiety marring my face. She looks as if she’s in pain. Well, damn it, I am, too. She reaches for the button on my jeans, tugging it free. Grabbing each side and yanking them open.
I place my hands over hers, slowly closing my eyes before moving her hands. Twisting my head to the side, I lick my lips, savoring her taste on them. Still, I don’t look at her. Why am I holding back? Beneath me lays a beautiful woman, and I’m saying no.
“Ava.” Releasing her name as a whisper, it’s not a question on her part.
My head snaps back as her eyes look through me. “No.” Shaking my head, my eyes close as her mouth purses.
She moves away from me. “So, it’s more than you told me?”
I can’t believe how her words scare me. Why are they scaring me? We hardly know each other. “No. It’s complicated.” I lay back against the couch, throwing my arm over my face.
“Oh,” is all she says before she scrambles to her feet. My hand is on hers, tugging her back down beside me.
“What the fuck are you doing to me?” My chest heaves, but I don’t let go of her. I’m ashamed to admit that I like it, maybe a little too much.
“I can honestly say, I have no clue what’s going on between us,” she quips with a nervous giggle.
“It’s not what you think,” I say flatly.
“What the fuck is it then?” She turns facing me.
My head jerks to her, surprised at her question. “It’s more about making the right choices.”
“Huh? It sounds a lot like a relationship?” Her face flames with anger.
“No, I’m not talking about Ava. Not entirely.” I gape at her.
“Okay, I guess I’m lost,” she says.
“Ava has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember, we grew up together. I don’t want to hurt her, but we are just friends. That’s where my allegiance ends.” I swallow the knot in my throat as I say it. “As for me, I’ve spent enough time making mistakes. I don’t want this to be another.”
She looks away for a moment, then stares directly into my eyes. “Okay. Do we need to just be friends?”
“No. I’m not sure where this going, but I’ll be damned if I stop it.” Leaning in, I place a sweet kiss on her lips. “I don’t think I have it in me to never kiss you again.” And so, I do.
Breaking away, she rests her forehead against mine and sighs. “I like that, country boy. I know it’s morning and you’re probably tired, but will you stay just a little while longer?”
Who the hell am I to deny her request? “Yeah, Torrie. I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me.” She smiles and pecks my lips, before climbing off my lap.
We get comfortable on the couch together, talking about our hopes and dreams. Memories of summers past. Likes and dislikes. It’s as though we are made for one another in so many ways.
“So, there’s a game later. Would you want to go?” she asks warily.
“It’s ACC football, yes. Besides, if I get to escort you, I’m more than willing to go.” I can’t believe she likes football. Virginia Tech is playing North Carolina University, and Tech is ranked seventh in the country. An ACC game for a Carolina boy who refuses to cheer on the Tarheels—that’s always gonna be a hard yes.
We nap on the couch until close to game time. It’s a late September evening, as we don our maroon and orange to walk to the stadium., Although we can get student tickets, we use Torrie’s season tickets.
The stadium lights illuminate the night sky as we cheer on our Alma Mater. Torrie is a true football fan; it’s rare to find a girl who knows as much as you do, but she’s good. We yell at bad calls and laugh at each other for singing the fight song. I only did it for her. At halftime, we go to the concession stand to grab some food.
“Hi, Torrie,” a girl yells from the other side of the line.
Torrie stands on her tiptoes to see who it is, then yanks my hand and pulls me through the crowd of fans toward her. “Hi, Christine.” A tall, thin girl stands before us. Short, jet black hair, dressed to kill with heels and all. She d
rags Torrie into a hug instantly. Torrie then turns to me.
“Christine, this is Brannon. Brannon, Christine.” Torrie makes the introductions like a television game show hostess, waving her hand between us both. I offer mine as a hello.
“Hey, Christine,” I say as she takes my hand.
“Hi, Brannon. How are you?” Torrie mentioned Christine last night.
“Good. It’s a great game, isn’t it?” I hike my thumb over my shoulder to the stadium.
“It is. But I’m drunk, so who cares?” She laughs before shouting at me over the crowd. “No offense. Torrie likes you, so I do too. I should maybe shut my mouth now.” She giggles with a hiccup.
“It’s all good. I knew what you meant.” I wink, flashing her my best smile. Win the friends, score the points.
She returns my smile but looks at Torrie and winks. “Oh, he’s fine.” Torrie laughs as she tightens her grip on my hand. “So, you and Torrie, huh. What’s up with that?” Her brown eyes assess’ me skeptically.
“Well, I like her.” I wink at Torrie this time.
Christine’s brow raises, and I hear her true Yankee come out. “No, shit. But whatta ya like about her?”
Torrie’s face grows red, as I snicker. “I could go with everything, but I’ll get more specific.” Pausing to build anticipation. “Her beautiful soul. The way she drives me mad just by looking at me. The lighter blue specs in her deep blue eyes. And she can play one helluva game of Halo.”
Christine looks from Torrie to me. “Is that all?”
I know what she’s getting at, so I lay it on. “Christine, we haven’t slept together. I have more respect for her than that. Torrie’s not a woman you fuck unless it’s mutual.” Her mouth pops open and squeezes my hand.
“Torrie, your thoughts?” She turns to her and smiles.
“His frankness. He’s a better man at eighteen than most at fifty. He accepts me for me.” I turn to her as she smiles. “We’re gonna grab some food and drinks, the game’s too good to miss. See you later.” Torrie waves at Christine as we walk to the counter.
“Torrie—” She cuts me off.