by Lia Lee
If one night was all I was going to get with Brett, and he’d made it clear that it was, I wasn’t going to waste it second guessing him or myself. His motivations didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that he intended on helping me take care of pesky little virginity problem in the right way. I couldn’t let myself think that it was anything more than that.
I unlocked the door to the apartment with shaky fingers that I tried my very best to keep steady, but Brett must’ve seen the slight tremble, and he took the key from me. Once we were inside the darkened apartment, he turned to face me and raised both hands to my neck, cupping it gently with his thumbs resting at the hollow.
“You’re nervous?” he asked.
He looked so serious that I wanted to deny it and reassure him, but this was Brett. If I tried to bluff him, he’d know and probably call the whole thing off.
“I am, but not because I’ve changed my mind,” I said. “So don’t ask me if I’m sure again. I am sure.”
Tilting his head slightly, one of his hands lifted my chin to bring my gaze to his.
“We can wait, you know. I said one time only, but that one time doesn’t have to be tonight.”
The ache at the apex of thighs didn’t agree with that statement. “No, tonight.”
“You sure?”
“Positive,” I whispered, taking a step closer to him so that I was pressed against his chest. My hands found their way to the buttons of his shirt, sliding the little plastic nubs through their holes slowly. I wanted to be brazen, to take what I wanted, but that didn’t stop my hands from shaking.
He brought his up to catch my wrist, taking over for me and shrugging out of his shirt. Brett’s swimmer’s shoulders were broad, but not bulky. They gave way to a strong chest with small, hard nipples that I wanted to suck on and washboard abs that tapered to fuck-me lines between his hips that should’ve been illegal.
I inhaled a sharp breath of air at the sight of him, the fact that he was on display for me in this way was unbelievable. I’d seen his body before, plenty of times, but this was different. It was… more.
Brett reached for me, tugging me against him. His arms wrapped around my waist and kept me locked to him. He walked us backward until my back hit the wall that separated our foyer from our living room.
Once there, he fulfilled one of many fantasies about him, caging me against the wall with his elbows on either side of my head and holding me there with his delicious weight. His erection pressed into my stomach, hard and huge from the feel of things.
My breath caught in my lungs. My body froze under his heated stare and the feel of finally having him so close to me. His breath fanned my face when he bent his head down, a hint of alcohol and something else.
And then he kissed me, and every other thought vanished. Being properly kissed by Brett was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. I felt his tongue slide across my lips, urging them to open for him. They parted on a soft moan, and he slipped his tongue into my mouth and started kissing me like I’d never been kissed before.
He leaned into me, kissing me fiercely and passionately, bringing goosebumps to my skin and altering my senses. I was pretty sure I was soaking through my panties, but I didn’t care. I brought my hands to his hair, pulling him closer and kissing him just as ferociously as he was kissing me.
A groan resonated from the back of his throat, and I nearly came on the spot from how sexy it was, like he couldn’t control it, even if he wanted to. His hands dropped to my waist, pulling and just about lifting me to him. Then they were on the zipper of my dress and pushing the straps from my shoulders to bare me to him.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, Mark’s voice came from the other side of the door. It sounded like he was on the phone. Brett froze, as did I. The sound of Mark’s key sliding into the lock spurred both of us into action, yanking our clothes back on at the same time that we each hit a couple of light switches.
By the time Mark entered the apartment, we were sitting on opposite sides of the living room. Brett had thrown a pillow onto his lap to hide his impressive bulge, but it looked like he’d casually placed it there because it was in his way when he sat down.
Mark’s eyes widened, then narrowed when he found us, folding his arms.
“What’s going on here?”
I stood from the couch, smoothing my dress and gave him a look. “I just got home from a crappy day a little while ago, and Brett was outside, waiting for you. You guys have codependency issues.”
Brett smirked at my joke, while Mark just shrugged, but his posture relaxed, and he sauntered into the room, looking at Brett. “Sorry for the wait, dude. Didn’t know you were coming. What’s up?”
Not waiting for Brett’s answer, I muttered good night and headed to my room, shutting the door behind me with a click. I sat cross-legged on my bed, heart hammering away as I tried to make sense of the last couple of minutes.
That was Brett I’d been making out with. It seemed impossible, but it was true. The knowledge did the strangest things to my body, and I silently cursed Mark for coming home and interrupting what was sure to have turned out to be the best night of my life.
Thoughts swam around my head, but nothing came into focus. I had to talk this through, so I did what any girl would do in my situation. I called my best friend.
“Either Brett didn’t treat you right, or he said no, because you should not be calling me this early,” Beth said when she answered the phone, sounding equal parts disappointed and curious.
“Mark came home early.”
Beth squealed on the other end of the line. “So, Brett said yes?”
“He did,” I told her, proceeding to give her a highlight reel of the evening.
She listened patiently, pausing when I finally finished. “Okay, so next time you’ll just have to be more careful. Have you thought about maybe getting a hotel room instead of going to one of your places?”
“This is why I love you. You have the best ideas.” Excitement made my heart, and certain other parts of my anatomy, swell.
“You love me for my flawless dance moves and impeccable taste in ice cream, but yeah, I give good advice, too,” Beth joked.
“The best. I’ll text him about it now. Chat tomorrow.”
“You got it. Go get him, tiger.” She laughed, then hung up.
I stared down at my lit screen for a second, took a deep breath, and decided to just go for it. Pulling up his number on my contacts, I figured that getting straight to the point was probably for the best.
Me: How about getting a hotel room? Is that something you would be interested in?
Brett replied almost instantly.
Brett: Hell yeah. I’ll get it sorted. Sleep tight.
Hell yeah? I could live with that.
Chapter Seven
Brett
The gym smelled like chlorine, rubber, and a faint hint of body odor. Sweat was rolling down my neck and back, and my muscles ached, but I didn’t stop. I’d done three extra rotations as it was, and I was still turned on as fuck.
Hoping that a good workout would take the edge off, I’d gone in early that morning, but failed in my mission to get sex and Sophia off my brain. Sex with Sophia, more accurately.
Christ, she’d felt so incredible against me. Soft and so damn responsive.
The little sounds that I didn’t even think she realized she was making played on repeat in my head like the soundtrack to that fucking fantastic kiss. A not insignificant part of me had wanted to punch Mark for interrupting us, throw her over my shoulder, and bury myself balls deep into her for several days, but that was my dick talking.
It was my favorite appendage, but it didn’t know how disastrous the consequences would’ve been. So instead, I’d listened to my big brain and did the sensible thing. But that didn’t mean that it hadn’t been torturous, sitting in her living room and listening to Mark drone on about some or other chick he had his sights set on, while knowing that Sophia and her sweet body were right
down the hall.
In her bedroom. Doing god only knew what. If she was half as turned on as I’d been, I knew exactly what I’d have been doing if I had the luxury of disappearing into my bedroom after that kiss. And the thought of it did fuck all to calm my raging hard-on.
Somehow, I’d managed to keep Mark talking until I was in a state to walk again, and I made an excuse to leave. Once I got home, I made an online reservation at a swanky hotel downtown for Friday night, jerked off twice, and fell asleep with fantasies of exactly what I was going to do to her when I got her to that hotel room playing in my mind.
I was on a slippery slope, and I knew it. Completing a jerk-off hat trick to images of my best friend’s little sister in the shower that morning was more than enough to tip me off. But I wasn’t backing out of the deal I’d made with Sophia.
And the damn devil, for that matter. I was fully committed to being the one who rid said best friend’s little sister of her virginity. I was going straight to hell for it in all likelihood. It had to be in the bible or the Bro Code somewhere.
Do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars.
It felt like I’d had the air knocked out of me when she first asked me, but then my cock joined the party, and I hadn’t stood a chance. Besides, the stab in my gut at the thought of some asshole ruining something as special as her first time or, god forbid, hurting her, had pushed me over the edge. Then she said that thing about trusting me, and it was game over.
I caved faster than I ever would’ve thought, and I’d never been happier that I had. I honestly couldn’t wait to get inside her.
My mind was a filthy damn place that day, but there was nothing to be done about it. I was considering whether turning one time into one weekend would violate our agreement when my phone buzzed on the floor by my feet.
Mark flipping me the bird in freshman year of college glowered up at me from my screen and guilt hit me square in the chest, but I ignored it and reached for the phone.
“Miss me already, Love?”
Mark snorted and scoffed. “You wish. So listen. You up for a couple of drinks at the Fox tonight? I’m in the mood to get wasted, and I need someone to share my hangover with tomorrow.”
“You say the nicest things to me,” I joked. “But yeah, let’s do it. Seven?”
Being around Mark wasn’t all that much fun for me, since it made me feel like shit for all my dirty thoughts about fucking his sister, but if I refused suddenly, he would start asking questions. There was also the added benefit that if I went with him tonight, he wouldn’t be too interested in going out tomorrow night. Which meant that I’d be in the clear for my night with Soph.
“Seven works for me. See you there.”
The line went dead, and I shoved my phone in my pocket, giving up on the workout. It was time to get to the office anyway. After a quick shower and donning my corporate armor, I shot a quick text to Sophia.
Me: Booked a suite at the Madison tomorrow night. That work for you?
My phone buzzed with her reply just as I got to my car. I slid in behind the wheel, glad that I was sitting down when I read her text.
Sophia: Can’t wait. Take lots of vitamins and get in bed early tonight, because I’m not letting you get much sleep tomorrow night.
Never, in my entire existence, had I needed two days to pass in a second that badly. It seemed that we were on the same page that “one and done” meant one night or weekend, maybe. Not just fucking once.
Once would never be enough to get this intense urge to be inside her out of my system. The weekend? I could work with that.
Me: I’ll take my vitamins with a shot of something and I can’t promise an early night tonight, but I can definitely promise a long night tomorrow. Going to the Fox with Mark later.
The early morning traffic was light, and I was pulling into the parking garage underneath my office building by the time Sophia’s reply came through.
Sophia: Fine, but I’m keeping you to your promise about tomorrow night. Even if I have to drag your hungover ass to that hotel myself, it’s mine for the night.
A shout of laughter escaped from me. Sophia was cheeky and playful when it came to sex. Who knew? I hadn’t thought it was possible to get turned on more than I’d been since those kisses the night before, but I’d been wrong. Seeing this side of her made me literally, painfully aware of the number of hours between now and when I’d finally to get to fuck her.
It was going to be a long-ass day.
Crossing the parking lot to the elevator, I dragged my hand through my hair and tried to focus on the day ahead, but Sophia crept back into the forefront of my mind the second I stepped into my office and my phone alerted me to another text from her.
Sophia: Speaking of your fine ass, don’t end up drunk off it tonight. I mean it. No matter how much alcohol the two of you consume, you can’t tell Mark what’s going on.
I tapped out a reply without having to think about it. I wasn’t fucking stupid. Of course, I wasn’t going to let tequila do the talking for me.
Me: I won’t. I’m rather attached to both my dick and my life and I’d probably lose both if he finds out.
Sophia replied with a laughing face emoticon and a thumbs up.
I stared at our flirty exchange for a second, sighed, and booted up my computer. It was time to get to work.
As it turned out, I was fucking stupid. Because a little more than fourteen hours later, I’d lost track of how many drinks I had, and I let tequila do the goddamn talking. Mark and I were draped over the dark wooden bar at the Fox, a typical dark, low-ceilinged Irish pub with cold beer on tap and a bartender who, unfortunately for me that night, didn’t cut you off until you started breaking things or people.
Mark hadn’t been kidding when he said that he felt like getting wasted. He had two shots of Patron waiting for me when I walked through the door and kept them coming for the rest of the night.
He’d broken down about the reason for his urge to binge almost immediately, telling me that things were shitty at work and that he wanted to pick my brain. He did, and I was grateful for the distraction.
I was also happy that I was able to help him out a little. It eased the guilt in the pit of my stomach some. Or maybe that was the booze. I couldn’t be sure anymore.
But it felt like I was floating on air by the time the curve ball hit.
“Let’s go away for the weekend,” Mark said, slurring his words a bit.
Somewhere in the dark recesses of my mind, I knew that I should deflect and keep my mouth shut. But that seemed like a terrible idea at the time.
“Can’t.” I smirked. “Got a big date tomorrow night.”
“Yeah?” Marked asked. “With who? Can’t you move it? I really feel like we should go on a road trip this weekend.”
Mark was a staunch believer in the power of the almighty road trip. As was I, usually. It would’ve been a tempting offer if the one I already had on the table wasn’t the only damn thing I’d been able to think about all day.
I ignored the question about who the date was with, but I still ran my mouth. “Can’t move it. I already booked a room at the Madison.”
Fucking tequila. It never made good decisions.
Chapter Eight
Sophia
I ran through my mental checklist one last time. Nerves and excitement bubbled like a living thing inside of me. I’d been useless at work all day, surreptitiously reading articles on my phone about what I should be expecting from the night that lay ahead.
It wasn’t the first time that I’d read articles on the subject, but now that I was actually about to lose my virginity, it seemed prudent to double check them. There was a mixed bag of opinions, tips, and warnings, but there were several things that people agreed on across the board.
As a result, I’d bought new underwear that made me feel sexy, shaved my legs, and tidied up my naughty bits. I also purchased an economy-sized box of condoms and two different kinds of lubricant, one water based and
one silicone based.
A couple of the girls online were of the opinion that the prophylactics were the guy’s responsibility, but I wanted to be fully prepared, and it was the twenty-first century. I wasn’t going to depend on Brett for anything other than pleasure.
A lot of it. Hopefully.
Luckily, Mark wasn’t home when the time came to leave, so I didn’t have to hide my overnight bag or my nerves from him. My official cover was that I was probably going to spend the night at Beth’s, so he shouldn’t worry if I didn’t come home.
I hated that I was lying to my brother. It left a bitter taste in the back of my mouth and a hollow feeling in my tummy, but it was a necessary evil. I was hours away from getting what I’d wanted for years, and while it made me feel like a selfish troll, there was no way that I was passing up on the opportunity.
My blood felt like it was getting hotter, the closer the time came, and it was practically volcanic by the time I pulled up outside the hotel and handed my keys to the valet. Brett had texted me the room number earlier, and I punched the number for the penthouse floor when I got in the elevator.
The hotel was fancy as anything, but I barely noticed the marble floors and modern steel finishes with sleek leather furniture and pops of color from flowers and decorations. My skin was alive with electricity buzzing over it, and my body sang with awareness and desire.
Brett opened the door the second after I knocked, looking insanely hot in washed out blue jeans that were artfully ripped and a dark gray button-up shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His feet were bare and his hair still damp from the recent shower.
But it was his eyes that got to me most. The way he was looking at me like I was dessert and he’d been on a diet for a decade, like he wanted me more than an alcoholic wanted their next drink or a drug addict their next fix.
“You look fucking amazing,” he said gruffly, tugging me close and kicking the door shut behind me. The room around me faded into the background when Brett brought his hands to my face, holding it with surprising gentleness and leaning down to brush my lips with his.