by Rhonda James
"Wait," I break our connection, "you're not going to Colorado?" He bites down on my lip before soothing it with his tongue.
"Nope. My parents wanted to get away, so I'm left here to fend for myself." He makes a sad face. "Don't you feel sorry for me?" He takes my hand in his and guides it down the front of his pants. I circle my fingers around him and stroke down to the base. His head rests on my shoulder, so I hear every little moan he makes when I work my hand over his thick shaft. There's an inch gap between the tip of my thumb and middle finger, and my mouth waters when I think of how incredible it feels when he's inside me.
Without warning, he picks me up and walks over to the kitchen table. He turns a chair around before setting me back on my feet. In one quick motion, he drops his sweats to the floor and takes a seat. He draws his bottom lip between his teeth and seduces me with his amber eyes as he lifts my skirt up to my waist. I straddle his legs, and he holds me by the hips as he guides me over his erection. Guess after the other night he's decided not to bother with a condom. I start to remind him but change my mind.
"Wait, I have a proposition." I tease my opening over the engorged head.
"Can it wait until I'm inside you?" He gives his hips a quick thrust and breaches my opening. I counter by pulling mine back.
"I'll have sex with you only if you agree to come to Chicago with me. Spend Thanksgiving with my family." I feather soft kisses down his neck. "I promise," my tongue teases over the flat of his nipple, "to make it," I rub my arousal over the head of his cock, "worth your while."
"You really think that's a good idea?" I nod, slowly rolling my hips as he continues, "And you really want me there?"
"Mmm hmm."
"Then we'd better hurry if we're gonna catch that train." He smiles wickedly before filling me in one fluid motion.
***
We climb the steps to the front porch of my childhood home, and I'm about to open the door when I feel his fingers tighten their grip around mine.
"Are you positive your parents are okay with me crashing their holiday?"
I give his hand a gentle squeeze and sigh. This is the third time he's asked this question since leaving Ann Arbor. Once he'd finished showing me how amazing chair sex can be, he'd stuffed clothes and toiletries into a backpack, while I placed a call to mom and told her I was bringing him along. As expected, she assured me she would love having another mouth to feed. Mom was always the June Cleaver of our neighborhood. Dinner was always on the table by six, and a freshly baked dessert was sure to follow. Friends were considered family and welcome at our table anytime. I know without a doubt that once we walk through the door, mom will go out of her way to make sure he's properly welcomed.
"B, I promise you have nothing to worry about. Besides, I want you here, and that's all that matters."
He leans forward and gently cups my face in his hands as his mouth covers mine. The kiss is soft, nothing like the one he'd given me in the train lavatory. Where that one had been frantic, like he couldn't get enough, he takes his time with this one, savoring it as if he were a man eating his last meal.
"I wanted to do that one more time, just in case it's the last chance I get for the next few days." I give him my brightest smile then drop his hand and push open the door.
Turns out I'd been right about mom. We barely make it through the door before she has B wrapped up in her arms. She gushes over him, going on and on about how much he's grown since she last saw him. Then she loops her arm through his and gives him a full tour of the house, making sure to point out every photo she has of me, even the hideous school photos taken during my awkward phase. He's a good sport about it, laughing at all the right times and answering every question she fires at him. While we prepare dinner, dad drags him off to the den for a little male bonding over a beer and hockey on ESPN.
Now, I'm standing at the kitchen counter, one arm wrapped around a large bowl, the other holding a potato masher, while staring into the den with a smile plastered on my face. The very fact he's sitting in the house I grew up in feels better than I'd ever imagined. I know this somehow goes beyond our arrangement, but neither of us have been very good at playing by the rules where this relationship is concerned. Not that I would call what we have a relationship, but it definitely feels as if there's something more between us. I want so badly to ask him why he's against falling in love. He once told me he wasn't capable of it, but I disagree. The way he treats me is proof he's capable of showing love. Maybe the problem is that he can't bring himself to receive it.
"He sure is easy on the eyes, isn't he?" Mom sneaks up behind me and looks over my shoulder in the direction of the den.
"I suppose," I answer, pretending as if I haven't noticed his charming good looks.
Her raised brow tells me she isn't buying it. "Sweetheart, you don't fool me for one second. I know you're sleeping with him." She pulls the bowl and masher from my hands to finish the task.
"What makes you think that?" My voice cracks and I search my brain for anything we may have done when we'd thought no one had been looking.
"Call it a mother's intuition," she winks and continues matchmaking while mashing potatoes. "That, and the fact you haven't stopped staring at each other since the two of you entered this house. Look at how well he gets along with your father. My father hated your dad when he first met him. Trust me, snatch this boy up while he's still available." She opens the oven to give the steaks a final baste of garlic butter before setting the pan on top of the stove.
"I'm curious, how do you know he doesn't already have a girlfriend?"
"I asked him and he told me."
"What the hell, mom? You can't go around asking guys if they're single."
"You can if you're a mother who wants to see grandchildren before she's too old to play with them," she quips tartly. "Listen, honey, I get that you're young and sex is more of a casual thing to your generation. But at some point there'll come a time when you'll want more. I just think he would be a great catch.
"Mom, wait." I grab her by the arm and lower my voice. "You can't say anything about us to dad or Scotty."
"Cassie, I wouldn't do that to you. But your father already knows you've had sex. You do remember the night he caught Justin in your bed?" Her perfectly shaped brow shoots up an inch.
"Please, don't remind me," I shudder. "It's just that Brantley doesn't want Scotty to know about us. He thinks we're merely friends. I guess there's this code between them Brantley promised not to break. I don't want to cause problems."
"Well, that's just nonsense. Your brother has no right to tell anyone who they can or cannot be with. I'm quite certain if your friend out there had a sister Scott took a shine to he wouldn't allow some pact to stop him."
"Please, mom. Just do this for me."
"Fine. I won't say a word. But I still say you should stake claim on him. You two would make the prettiest babies together."
"Mom!" I shake my head and begin to wonder if I should have stayed in Ann Arbor with B where we could have watched TV and eaten our frozen meals in peace.
***
Later that evening, after my parents say goodnight and head to their room, I slip downstairs and stand outside the room where Brantley is staying. His back is to me as he rifles through his backpack, searching for something. I clear my throat, alerting him to my presence as I step forward and lock the door behind me. I lean against the door and my breath catches in my throat when I see the look in his eyes. I know that look. It says he wants to finish what we started on the train. Heat courses through my veins as I stare at his bare chest, and the memory of what took place between us increases the aching need between my thighs.
"I'll be right back. I have to use the restroom," I whispered.
"Okay," he whispered back, lifting his arms as I untangled my legs from his lap. "Wait, do you have anything to eat? I'm starving."
"I think there's a granola bar in my purse. Help yourself." I offered before making my way to the restroom. The room sm
elled of deodorizer, and I wrinkled my nose in disgust, eager to do my business and get back to my book and the man waiting for me. I'd been in the middle of a heated scene when nature rudely interrupted the moment, leaving me aroused. As I opened the door to leave I was quickly forced back inside by a very intense looking hockey player.
"What are you doing?" I asked in a hushed voice.
"There's something I need to do." He licked his lips and stared at my mouth as if he intended to devour me.
"Then I'll just step out and leave you to it." A smirk filled my face as I wormed my way to the door. His arm rested on the sink, preventing my escape. "I have no desire to watch, if that's what you're hoping."
"I don't have to use the bathroom." His voice was low and seductive as he reached into his pocket. "I found something in your purse, and I'm dying to try it out."
My insides quaked when I realized what he was about to reveal. I'd bought it on a whim. His money had burnt a whole in my pocket during the entire demonstration. The woman had promised this particular vibrator, when used properly, would take my orgasm to the next level. I had yet to discover its possibilities, having thrown it in my purse the night of the party and forgetting about it, because Brantley provided all the pleasure a girl could ask for.
"What are you doing?" I hissed when he grasped the device in his right hand and lifted the hem of my skirt. With a gleam in his eye, he twisted the handle and an audible hum filled the confined space. My skin tingled as he rolled the latex over my clenched thighs. "B, we can't do this here. Someone might—" My voice faltered when his hand teased the front of my panties. I widened my stance, offering a silent invitation for him to continue, and was soon rewarded with a throaty chuckle in my ear. His fingers tugged at the fabric, pulling it aside, and a whimper fell from my lips when the blissful vibration met my swollen clit.
"That's it, baby, just roll with it. Feels good, right?" He growled the words against my neck before sinking his teeth into the soft skin, delivering a sting of pain that was immediately soothed by his heated tongue.
I mumbled incoherently, incapable of an intelligent response, as the sensation between my legs began its slow burn. His finger dipped, lowering the tip of the vibrator until it breached my opening and slipped inside. My head lolled to the side, and his mouth was there, kissing my neck, whispering the sexiest words I'd ever heard. I rolled my hips, seeking more, and he rewarded me with two quick thrusts of his hand. I reached between my legs, and my fingers came back soaked in my arousal. He bent down, covering my fingers with his mouth, and proceeded to lick both digits clean.
"You are so fucking sexy. Do you have any idea what you do to me?" Unable to respond, I leaned against him for support as his hand worked the toy in and out with quick, pulsating thrusts. Then his mouth was on mine, his hand shoved mine aside to rub the latex over my hardened nub while his fingers pumped hard and fast, filling me with each delicious stroke.
I braced my hands on the counter as the pressure mounted and couldn't hold back any longer. "I'm coming." My moans fell breathlessly into lips that muffled my cries of pleasure.
His arms surrounded me and supported my weight until I was able to stand without wobbling. When we finally made eye contact, a blush turned my face a deep shade of crimson. It wasn't as if he'd never witnessed one of my orgasms, but somehow this one seemed different. More personal. I hid my face in his chest and couldn't help giggling now that it was over. "I think you may have broken me that time."
Someone banged on the door and asked if I was okay, and our laughter filled the tiny room.
A room that now smelled of deodorizer and sex.
His chest rumbled with laughter as he lowered his head for a kiss. "Best twenty dollars I ever spent."
"Hey, gorgeous." His husky voice pulls me back to the present. "You lost or something?" His words tease but there's nothing playful about the kiss he gives me. "I've been wanting to do that all night."
I'm still reeling when he grasps my hand and guides me toward the bed. "Scotty will be here tomorrow."
"Guess that means I'll have to be on my best behavior." He lowers his mouth to mine and steals a greedy kiss. "What do you say, Dimples. You feel like being bad with me one last time?"
"I thought you'd never ask." We fall back on the bed, and he spends the next hour loving every inch of my body with expert hands and a wicked mouth. Later, when we're sated and too tired to move, he cradles me in his arms. "Who knew being bad would feel so good?"
"We knew." He lets out a growl while giving my shoulder a playful bite.
"Can I ask you a question?" My fingers trace circles through the patch of hair on his chest.
"Of course." There's no hesitation in his reply.
"It's about Vanessa." His hand stills.
"That's not an easy subject for me."
"I'm sorry. I just was wondering... You know what, it doesn't matter. Forget I mentioned anything. Can we just go back to what we were doing?" I'm rambling, worried my digging will drive a wedge between us when things are going so well. I wouldn't have brought it up, but talking with my mom got me thinking again.
"Cassie, just ask. I'll tell you anything you want to know."
The hand on my back stills as he steels himself for the question he knows I'm seeking the answers to. "What did she do to you?"
A measured sigh falls from his lips before he speaks again. "You want the long or short story?"
"I guess whichever story you feel like sharing." I answer softly.
"We'd been dating for three months when I knew I was in love with her. I'm talking can't eat, can't sleep, can't think about anything else. I couldn't afford to take her out, so we spent most of our time in our rooms, or making out in the library. My life revolved around four things. Hockey. My teammates. Sex. And Vanessa. In that order. Remember what you were saying about your ex, and how he never put you first? Well, I guess that's how Vanessa must have felt. But she was wrong. I did love her. I loved her so much, my heart ached."
He reaches for my hand, threading our fingers together as if touching me gives him strength. I remain still, afraid to move out of fear he may stop talking.
"She used to say I had no idea what love was. That I didn't know how to treat a woman. I don't know. At the time, I guess she was right. She was my first love. But I had no clue what I was doing. Six months into our relationship, I found out she was sleeping with another guy. I loved her, so I'd been too stubborn to believe the rumors, until Scott sent me a photo of her kissing the guy outside the frat house. She probably never thought she'd get caught. But she underestimated my best friend's loyalty."
His hand drops and he begins mindlessly stroking my side boob with the edge of his finger.
"We broke up, and I shut down. Two weeks passed before she came to my dorm, crying her eyes out, begging me to take her back. When I told her to leave, she dropped to her knees and said she was pregnant with my kid. She told me she was sorry for everything and said she still loved me. She said by not putting her first, I'd pushed her into his arms, and the sick thing was, I actually believed her. I spent the next month scared out of my mind, trying to figure out how to raise a kid and stay in school."
"So what happened? Did she keep the baby?"
"That's the kicker. She was never pregnant. She made that shit up so I would pay more attention to her. She played with my heart and it nearly destroyed me."
I lift my head and look into his sad eyes. "That's awful. I'm so sorry you had to go through that, but not every girl is out to break your heart."
"Maybe so, but I don't ever want to go through that pain again. I think our arrangement works. I like you. You like me. We have fun and get along perfectly. And the sex is hot as hell. Why ruin a good thing by throwing the L-word into the mix?" When I don't answer right away, he brings my hand to his mouth for a kiss.
"Thank you for opening up to me. I know it wasn't easy, but it helps me understand where you're coming from."
"I've only shared that with
a few people. Truthfully, I'm glad you asked me about it."
The fact he opened up and trusted me with his darkest pain is not lost on me. It makes me want to hold him in my arms and kiss him until the pain of the past becomes a forgotten memory.
"Justin's cheating wasn't the only reason I broke up with him. There were other things. Things I've never told anyone."
"What kind of things?" he asks warily.
"Well, for starters, there were many times when he was verbally abusive. He would guilt me into spending time with him. He never encouraged me to follow my dreams. Don't get me wrong. He wasn't horrible, but it still wasn't right. Justin had this vision of how he wanted me to be. For the longest time we would argue about it. After a while it became easier to just be who he wanted me to be."
"Why'd you put up with that? Did you think you didn't deserve better?"
"I was in love with him. At least I thought I was. I don't know what to think anymore."
"Sounds as if we both have valid reasons for keeping things carefree."
"I'm not so sure it's that easy. It's hard to tell your heart what to do. I don't know about you, but mine seems to have a mind of its own."
He brings a hand to my chin and lifts my face to his. "Cassie, you are having fun, aren't you?"
"Of course I'm having fun. You're my best friend. You make me laugh." His hand slips between us, and I squirm when his thumb brushes against my sex. "And you worship my body on a daily basis." He leaves two wet kisses on my neck before bringing his lips to my ear.
"See. Perfect, just the way it is." Our lips meet briefly before he pulls me into his lap. "You have to promise you'll tell me when this stops being fun. I mean it, Cassie. The minute things change, you need to tell me. I can't risk losing you because I'm too fucked in the head to handle anything more."
"B, you're not going to lose me—"