No Strings

by J. C. Hayden

  “True,” Brody said, scrunching up his face like he was thinking. “But we are almost out of school, and I think we can make exceptions when we find someone who’s perfect for us.”

  My eyes burned with tears as I smiled up at him. “You think I’m perfect for you?”

  He leaned in to nuzzle his nose against mine. “I think you’re perfect, period,” he murmured against my mouth before seeking out my lips with his. “I always have,” he said when he pulled back.

  “You have?” I croaked, body on fire for wanting him. Loving him.

  “Cat, I…”

  “What, baby?” I whispered. I could tell that whatever he needed to say was something I needed to hear.

  “I’ve wanted you for forever,” he said, voice as low as mine. “I would watch you and want you, but I never thought I was good enough. Never thought anyone was. The night after truth or dare, after I offered to help you lose your virginity, I wanted to take it back.”

  For some reason, that thought made my heart break a little.

  “Not because I didn’t want you, but because I knew that if I gave in—if I had you—it would be over. I wouldn’t be able to pretend that getting angry when you dated other guys and obsessively asking Gabe about you when we’d hang out was just friendly curiosity. I knew it would change me. I knew you would change me.”

  “Brody,” I breathed, tears welling in my eyes as he hovered over me.

  “I always thought you were perfect. Too perfect for me. Too perfect for anyone. But, baby,” Brody said, finally smiling one of his smiles that I had longed for. “I’ll spend my life trying to prove I’m worthy of you.”

  “You are, Brody,” I whispered, pulling him down closer and saying the words like a prayer against his lips. “You are worthy.”

  We kissed until we had to come up for air, and Brody’s eyes met mine, full of love and warmth and joy and heated promise.

  “You know the entire school knows about us now, right?”

  The return of Brody’s playful side for the first time in this conversation made me realize that everything was going to be okay. Maybe not right away. Maybe not today. But soon. Everything would be okay. He would be okay. We would, too.

  I craned my neck to look over his shoulder, and I wasn’t the least bit shocked to find several people staring and pointing in our direction. A few even had their phones out and were aiming them in our direction

  “I don’t mind,” I said when I laid my head back down. “At least now Tabitha will know to keep her paws off you.”

  Brody’s smile faded. “You know she never meant anything… like that… to me, right?”

  I nodded. “You were just freaked out and jealous.”

  “And madly in love.”

  I grinned broadly. “With me?”

  Brody leaned in and kissed me briefly. “With you,” he confirmed. Then he put his hand on the side of my face and looked down at me like I was the only person in the world. “I love you, Catrina.”

  “And you want strings?” I whispered.

  “So many strings that people will call me Pinocchio,” Brody said against my mouth.

  “Kiss me,” I breathed.

  Brody grinned. “Just try and stop me.”

  Epilogue

  Brody

  CAUSE BABY YOU’RE A FIREWORK, COME ON SHOW ‘EM WHAT YOU’RE WORTH—”

  “What the hell…”

  I turned over in bed when I heard the singing (or, rather, shouting) voice coming from the other room.

  “MAKE ‘EM GO OH-OH-OH AS THEY SHOOT ACROSS THE SKY-Y-Y!”

  “Talia,” Catrina grumbled.

  “What is…?” I rolled into Catrina and buried my face in her hair, inhaling heavily before breathing, “What is happening?”

  “BABY YOU’RE A FIREWORK—”

  “Every goddamn—TALIA!—every goddamn morning,” she ground out.

  “MAKE ‘EM GO—”

  “TALIA!” Catrina finally screamed at the top of her lungs.

  “WHAT?” I heard shouted from the other room.

  “Tal, it’s”—Catrina craned her neck to look at the clock on the nightstand and I took the opportunity to kiss her neck. She sucked in a breath that made me grin and continue my ministrations. “It’s seven fucking a.m.! Can you keep it down?”

  “SORRY, LOVERS!” Talia called out.

  I felt Catrina wince under me and when she sighed in what was most definitely annoyance, I darted my tongue out, sliding it along the curve of her neck that I loved to taste until she was sighing over something else.

  I loved waking up next to Catrina, loved it more than I could ever possibly say out loud. I loved waking up to her scent in my nose, her warmth at my side, the mere comfort of her presence, and most of all I loved that I could wake up and do this—kiss her until she was breathless or sink inside her until I was totally lost.

  It had been nine months since we’d left Klein and shortly after graduation, Catrina had been living with her friend Talia in the Back Bay neighborhood of Boston since they had moved out of their on-campus apartment. I liked Talia well enough. She was a bit bossy and she certainly tried to insert herself into my and Cat’s business more than I would have liked, but she also made me laugh more often than not, and her crazy antics—like waking up at 7am and singing Katy Perry in the kitchen at the top of her lungs—were more endearing than they weren’t. I also knew that Talia looked out for Catrina more than almost anyone, and that already gave her a good solid place in my book.

  Catrina was currently playing Elphaba during the two month running of Wicked at the Boston Opera House. She was also, secretly, working on her own original music that she hadn’t told me about, but I had seen the music and lyrics left open on her computer when I had come to her apartment after leaving school early from my grad school class one day and surprised her at her place because I couldn’t wait to get to her even though we’d had a date planned for later that night. I didn’t know why she hadn’t mentioned it yet, but I was just waiting, letting her take her time the same way she’d let me take my time in admitting how I felt about her back when we first got together over a year ago.

  I continued to kiss Catrina’s neck before I trailed kisses along her jaw and eventually made it to her mouth, where I bit her bottom lip gently before diving into a deep kiss. She let out a small noise in the back of her throat and wrapped her arms around my neck as I moved so I was more on top of her.

  “I have to get to school,” I breathed against her lips.

  Catrina groaned in protest, making me grin. “Already?”

  “8:30 class,” I said absently, slowly moving my hips against hers as she tightened her thighs on either side of me. “We’re workshopping our short stories today. Can’t miss it.”

  After talking to Catrina about it for months, I had finally admitted how badly I wanted to be a writer. I had gotten my degree in Business Administration at Klein, which my advisor told me would be really helpful when it came to the publishing side, but I needed work on my creative writing and the like. I’d taken the first year out of school off after we graduated from Klein. Catrina had also had some free time so we got to do some traveling together and I got to take her to some of my favorite places in the world. A few months into our travels, Cat had convinced me to start applying to writing masters programs. I had just started the program a few weeks ago, but I was already so happy to be there I was, getting my masters at Emerson.

  But waking up for class and leaving Catrina would be the death of me.

  “Want you,” I murmured against her gorgeous mouth.

  She hummed in agreement as she reached between us to grip my dick in her hands, guiding me to her entrance. I held my breath until she lifted her hips and I slid inside. This never got old. It couldn’t. It never, ever, ever got old, this feeling of finding home inside her, wet and warm. I hissed as I buried my face in her neck and sank my fingers into her hair, propped up on my elbows.

  She whimpered my name, and my bloo
d ran hot in my veins. Nothing felt better than this—nothing in the entire fucking world felt better than being inside Catrina, especially when I could look at her, blue eyes glowing with lust—with need—for me.

  When I thought back to the time when I was stupidly in denial about being in love with Catrina, I almost always wanted to throw myself off the nearest bridge. I’d known since the first time we were together—hell, I’d known since that night by the reservoir—that she was going to be different, that she was going to turn my world upside down. I could remember how fucking scared and angry I was when I’d woken up the morning after our first night together and found that she wasn’t there. And the anger and fear that coursed through me was my first clue that I was in deep already.

  I’d spent over two months being scared to death of the way she made me feel, but as soon as I’d finally admitted it all to myself, I couldn’t get enough, and it hadn’t been enough for the year since then. I wanted more—more of her, more of us, more of this.

  “Catrina,” I said in a choked voice as I sped up my thrusts. “Fuck.”

  Damn, she felt so good. I slid in and out, listening to her breathing pick up, craving more of her little gasps and whimpers.

  I was so hard I was aching, and I knew I wouldn’t last long.

  Sometimes, I could go forever, draw it, make her beg, but this morning, I was overwhelmed with the need to claim her, to ravish her, to come so deep inside her she would feel it later.

  We had ditched condoms months ago, but I was still often overwhelmed by the feeling of being bare inside her. It was everything—to be connected to her in every way possible, nothing between us. No barriers. Not anymore. Not ever again.

  “Baby,” she breathed quietly, sounding so good it made my body twitch with need. “Harder.”

  I grunted and gave a strong push, going deeper, making Catrina’s neck arch and wrap around me tighter.

  “You’re so wet,” I whispered hotly in her ear. “So warm, so tight. Fuck,” I choked out. “You feel so fucking good.”

  I hated that we had to be quiet—hated that I couldn’t scream out how good she felt. So good it was almost unbearable.

  I gripped her hair in my hands, keeping her head tilted back as I pulled back to see her eyes, finding them squeezed shut tightly in pleasure.

  I went harder, deeper, seeking more of the sounds that drove me out of my mind as I watched her face. She was perfect—absolutely fucking perfect—and, briefly, I wondered if the overwhelming feelings that swirled inside me every time I even laid eyes on her would ever go away.

  “I love you,” I breathed, still watching her.

  Catrina’s eyes opened slowly, and the look of love and longing and lust and desire and need in her eyes would have brought me to my knees if I wasn’t already in bed.

  “Love you so much,” I said, and her mouth fell open as she went stiff underneath me, clearly trying to keep her eyes open but losing the battle when the pleasure won out and she shut them tightly, arching into me as she came, trying to keep her sounds to a minimum so that her friend wouldn’t hear us. I pressed my mouth to hers, fucking her through her orgasm and she moaned—the sounds muffled by me but no less urgent and needy, no less arousing—and then I spilled into her, grunting as I did, wanting to cry out from the pleasure of it despite knowing that I couldn’t.

  When we both finally relaxed, I moved to roll off of her, but she held me to her, panting in my ear as my head rested on her shoulder, breathing her in.

  “I love you, too,” she murmured. “Don’t want you to go.”

  I laughed into her hair. “You’re the one who encouraged me to go to grad school. I wouldn’t be in class and at school so much if it weren’t for you.” I lifted up onto my elbows again, the shift making both of us realize I was still inside her. I huffed, and Catrina bit her lip. “Only yourself to blame,” I said, voice gone huskier.

  “You should probably take a shower before you go,” she whispered. Her flushed cheeks and breathless voice made me want to go at her again—harder and louder and faster and—

  “I’ll join you.”

  I smiled. “I’m going to be late, aren’t I?”

  Catrina grinned.

  After I finally slid out of her—she gasped and I was still half-hard—we made it to her private bathroom, and while I was brushing my teeth and Catrina was turning on the shower, I looked at her through the mirror, admiring her curves as I said, “You should just move in with me.”

  Catrina stood up and turned to me. “What?”

  I shrugged and then spit into the sink before standing up straight and turning toward her. “I’ve got that huge apartment,” I said, leaning back against the sink. “You wouldn’t have to pay anything because, you know, I’m rich and all.” She rolled her eyes, and I grinned as I pushed off the sink to walk toward her. I slipped my hands around her hips as she put her hands on my chest, gazing up at me. “You could be as loud as you want when I do this.” My hand slid down her ass and I pushed a finger into her from behind, making her gasp and arch into me.

  “Brody.”

  “Think of how fun it would be,” I whispered against her mouth. “You. Me. This.” I added another finger. “Every. Single. Day.”

  She dropped her head onto my shoulder. “This isn’t the way we should be—oh, oh God—having this discussion. Brody.”

  “I want to wake up next to you every day,” I murmured in her ear. “I want to come home to you every day.”

  Catrina pulled back and planted her mouth on mine, pressing her body to mine. “Okay,” she said when she came up for air. “Let’s do it.” Then she pulled back and dragged me into the shower. “Yeah,” she practically moaned. “You’re definitely going to be late.”

  End

  About the Author

  J.C. is a writer from St. Louis, Missouri. When she's not writing she's spending time with her cat and doing her full time job as a social worker.

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