SWEAT

by Deborah Bladon

  "You're talking right now, Petal." I circle the pad of my finger over her clit again, and again, slowly because I know it's driving her mad.

  "Eat my pussy," she blurts out. "Will you?"

  Fuck. Me.

  I oblige because the woman I love wants something I crave like a starving man. I push her on her back, slide down and lower my mouth to her clit.

  She bucks under me, her fingernails digging into my scalp, words that make no sense spilling from her mouth.

  I lick, suck and finger this sweetness until I feel her body tense, her breathing stutter and she comes against my lips.

  ***

  An hour later, her hand is between my legs. "You know how big this is, right?"

  I laugh as I throw my forearm over my face. I should be dead asleep by now. I've been up for almost twenty-four hours, but if I have to walk through the next twenty-four like a motherfucking zombie, I'll do it.

  Her pussy is my addiction.

  "It's big enough," I quip. "I didn't hear you complain about it the other day when you were coming all over it."

  "I don't want anyone else to ever touch it," she whispers into the flesh of my neck.

  My heart stutters. I think she's telling me in a round-about, hot-as-fuck way that she's in love with me too. Naturally, I can't think of the right thing to say, so I blurt out what's sitting on the edge of my tongue. "Sometimes I like to touch it."

  "Oh God," she moans. "Can I watch you do that?"

  Well, fuck.

  In the space of ten seconds, I shut down a semi-romantic, almost life changing moment and replaced it with an invitation to watch me jerk-off.

  I peek at her from behind my arm. "Only if you let me watch you."

  "Touch myself?"

  "No, bake a fucking cake, Petal." I shake my head. "Yes. I want to watch you finger that hot little pussy of yours."

  "Your mouth is so dirty." She squirms next to me. "I like that."

  "You fucking love it." I smile my best dimpled grin. "Lay on your back and touch yourself. I'll stand over you and stroke this monster."

  She draws in a heavy breath. "Have you done that with a woman before, Smith?"

  Of course, I have. I've done everything, sometimes twice on Sundays. I'm no saint. For the most part, she is, so I'm keeping my experience locked down.

  "I touch myself when I think about you," I answer as diplomatically as I can.

  "Really?" She rolls onto her back, her fingers skimming over her nipples.

  I move to straddle her, my knees on either side of hers. I touch the head of my cock, short, easy strokes. "All the damn time. The first day I saw you at the gym, I came thinking about you."

  "You screwed that Caprice girl that day."

  With my eyes shut and my mind on one woman, and one woman only. I admit, I fucked Caprice that afternoon with Brynn on my brain. I'm not proud of it.

  "I left her place, came here and shot a load all over the sheets of this bed thinking about you."

  I did. I have no idea where I got the energy to make that happen, but it felt like heaven.

  Her hands roam over her thighs. She circles them both before her fingers dip between them. Her lips part slightly and a faint moan escapes.

  "Did you touch yourself thinking about me, Petal, or was I still on your man-I-hate-more-than-anything list?"

  "My friend, Adley, told me to hate-fuck you."

  "I like this Adley person."

  She laughs. It's husky and smooth. "She said she could tell I wanted you. She was right. I did."

  I slide my hand over the length of my dick. I'm not going to come like this. I want to be inside of her when that happens.

  "You should have done it." I groan as I see the wetness from her pussy glistening on her fingers.

  "If I walked up to you," she says before her voice trails as her fingers move faster. "If I walked up to you in the gym and told you I wanted to sleep with you, what would you have done?"

  "This." I move quickly, pushing her knees apart, settling between them. I run my tongue over the pulse in her neck and my cock over her throbbing clit. "Use my dick to get yourself off. Rub it against your clit."

  She shakes her head. "Just fuck me now. I trust you."

  "I'm clean," I hiss as I cup her ass and slide into her with my cock bare, beautifully bare.

  Chapter 23

  Smith

  "You haven't said a damn word." I walk up behind her and rest my hands on her shoulders. She's wearing a royal blue, off –the-shoulder, dress today. Her hair is tied into a high ponytail and her face is freshly washed.

  I should know. I blew my load all over her mouth and onto her tongue an hour ago in the shower at my place after we got back from the gym. I returned the favor and licked her to an orgasm before we both got dressed to head here.

  "I think this place is magnificent." Her eyes travel over the details on the ceiling. "You can't recreate something like this, Smith. I'm telling you this is a rare jewel."

  I'd agree if she were talking about herself. Brynn is my jewel. She's the brightest light I've ever seen. Over the past month, she's worked hard on finishing up the bedroom for the Pentlows and now that they've offered her the rest of the apartment to redesign, she's on cloud nine. She's also putting her all into the show suite at The Beryl. She's not happy with how she landed that gig, but she's determined to prove that she's worthy of it.

  I've listened to her talk non-stop about her plans for this place. It's the brownstone in Brooklyn that I'm fixing up for my sister and her kids.

  "Your designer's touch is going to bring this place back to life." I kiss her softly on the back of her neck. "I love the ideas you have for the boys' rooms. They're going to lose it, Petal. Once they walk in and see what you've done, I swear to fuck they're going to lose it."

  She spins around and smiles up at me. "I want this to be a home, a real home that they can grow in and build memories in. Just like Simon's family is doing on the Upper East Side."

  We've been over to Simon's place twice this past month for dinner. My family loves this woman. They can't get enough of her. I can't blame them for that. I feel the very same way about her.

  "It'll be the perfect home for them." I glance over at the red brick fireplace. "I think we should paint the fireplace white, and add a mantel made of reclaimed wood."

  Her brows peak. "Oh is that so? You can't call yourself an expert just because video clips of you hammering a nail into a piece of wood have gone viral."

  "There are so many dirty things I can say in response to that." I skim a finger over her now-hardened nipple. "I'll refrain until we're back at my place."

  "I wish they would have called the segment something other than Smith's Sweat Equity."

  That was the brainchild of Resa. She's the one who dubbed my once-a-week segment on Rise and Shine with that name. It's not original, it doesn't slide off the tongue, but it does capture the essence of what I'm doing.

  We had no idea how popular those ten-minute segments would become. They've racked up millions of views online in just a few short weeks.

  I don't give a shit about any of that. I work here as often as I can, tearing down walls, building new ones and eating dinner with my love on the workbench we've christened our new dining room table.

  I'm creating a home for my sister with my own hands. I did the same for my brother. I take care of my own. It's part of the fabric of who I am.

  I'm thankful as fuck that part of my deal with taking this on Rise and Shine is that they are footing half the bill for the contractors I've hired. I do as much of the work as I can, but I'm not a professional. I'm just a guy who loves working with his hands so he can give the people he loves a better life.

  "What would you have called it?" I ask with a sly grin. "Smith's Hard Body? Smith's Hands Can Handle It? Smith and His Huge Hammer?"

  "Save those for our private sex tapes." She runs her hands down the front of my blue button down shirt.

  "We're making a sex tape?
" I unbuckle my belt. "I think we need to rehearse for that."

  "Here?" Her eyes scan the floor and the pile of drop cloths I threw in the corner for when I finally get to the painting stage.

  "Let me set the scene." I tug her dress down until her perfectly round tits pop out. "I suck on these beauties first."

  I lower my mouth to her left breast and slowly draw her pebbled nipple between my teeth.

  She hisses at the sensation. "Go on."

  I yank the dress down in one fluid movement until it's puddled around her sandaled feet. "Then I lick a path all the way to the most perfect pussy in the world."

  Her hands tangle in my hair as I sweep my tongue over her smooth, soft stomach while I slide her blue lace panties off.

  "Get to the part where there's actual fucking."

  I smile against her tender flesh. "Your wish is my command, you impatient little Petal."

  I stand, lift my chin in silence to motion her to take a step back and then another and as she does, I lose every piece of my clothing until she's on her back on the drop cloths, her legs wrapped around me.

  "Don't ask me if this has a happy ending." I slide my dick inside her lush, beautiful body.

  "It does." She moans as she claws at my arms. "He loves her and she…"

  Fuck my dick. It always interrupts her right when she's about to tell me she loves me. I pump hard, so fucking hard. I want to screw those three words out of her. I want to hear them. I need to.

  "He loves her," I say through clenched teeth." And she…"

  Her back arches as she chases her first release of the afternoon. "She loves him, oh fuck, does she ever love him."

  Epilogue

  6 Months Later

  Brynn

  "Who is she?" I brush my fingers over my brother's shoulder. He's wearing a tuxedo and a look on his face I've never seen before.

  "Who?" He turns toward me. "You look beautiful, Brynn. Stunning."

  I know I do. I chose this particular dress over a month ago. It's short, fitted and black, as required by the black tie affair my brother is hosting to launch his first ever residence hotel in New York. We're in the main ballroom as he oversees a party attended by top notch real estate agents and their clients who have money to burn.

  You'd think that managing the construction of the hotel in Paris at the same time would be too much, but he's on top of every detail, including my touches on the residences here in New York. I was thrilled when he hired me for the job.

  "You look good too, Julian." I tilt my chin to the opposite side of the room. "I was asking about the pretty woman wearing the stunning diamond earrings. She's standing next to the man in the dark rimmed eyeglasses."

  He looks in their direction, his gaze lingering a moment too long. "That's Maya Baker. She's a broker."

  "Does she work for dad?"

  He finally tears himself away from her to look back at me. "No. Can I get you a glass of champagne?"

  "No champagne for me. How do you know her?" I push because I've never seen Julian so flustered. He's always the one who is in complete control. Yet, right now, perspiration is dotting his upper lip and his hand is fisted so tightly around the tumbler of scotch he's holding that I'm certain it's going to shatter into a million pieces at our feet.

  He takes a drink from the glass. "Why all the questions?"

  "I want you to be as happy as I am." I glance over to where Smith is deep in conversation with two men. "I love you and I want that for you."

  "I love you too." He leans forward to brush his lips against my cheek. "I am happy."

  "Does Isadora make your heart pound the way it does when you look at Maya?"

  "My heart isn't pounding, Brynn."

  I glance at his neck and the vein that's visible over the collar of his starched white dress shirt. "Don't lie to yourself, Julian. You don't have to stay with Isadora forever."

  "I care for her."

  "I'm crazy in love with Smith," I counter. "I race home from work every day, so I can see him. I can't imagine a day without kissing him. He's in my heart, Julian. I can feel him in there with every beat it takes."

  He glances back at Maya. "I'm happy for both of you."

  I exhale harshly. "I trust you to know what's best for you. I'm always around if you want to talk to me, you know that, don't you?"

  "I'm here for you too." He squeezes my hand. "When are you going to make an honest man out of Smith?"

  I'm wondering the same thing myself. We've taken every step but the one where my great-grandmother's ring lands on my finger. Pike and I moved in with Smith four months ago. I put my place up for sale and helped Sydney move her stuff into the extra bedroom at Adley's apartment. They hit it off immediately and now when I go see one of my best friends, I get to see them both at the same time.

  "I have a surprise for him tonight."

  He eyes my face. "Whatever it is, he's going to love it. He's a good man, Brynn. The best man I know."

  He is. He's helped me immensely these past few months. He's gone to therapy with me so I can finally let go of the grief and anger that has haunted me since my grandma died.

  Smith's been by my side as I've reconnected with my family. He's gone to Sunday dinners at my parents' apartment with me and held my hand while I made small talk with my dad.

  Things are in a better place with Fulton and me now. We lunch together every second Wednesday at a deli we used to go to when I was a little girl. He leaves his phone at his office and focuses every ounce of his attention on me.

  We have a long road to get things to where we want them to be, but we're moving forward.

  "Did he tell you that he got a tattoo?" I ask, proud of the fact that Smith chose to a get a tattoo on the left side of his chest that matches the one on my elbow. It's a simple heart with the word family written inside of it.

  I took inspiration for mine from a drawing my grandma did inside the birthday card she gave me when I was fourteen. Smith took inspiration for his from my tattoo.

  Julian laughs. "Smith? He did that? Tattoos hurt like hell. I didn't think he had it in him."

  "How would you know how much tattoos hurt?"

  He shoots me a look. "That's none of your business."

  I giggle as I kiss his cheek. "You're a tough one to figure out. I like that about you."

  ***

  "Were you and your brother plotting the takeover of more of Manhattan's real estate?" Smith pulls me into a quiet corner of the now crowded room. "I was admiring you from afar when you were talking to him. Jesus, woman, your body is killer in that dress."

  "You like?" I spin around so he can catch of glimpse of me from all angles.

  "I love." He tugs me into his chest. "I want to go home."

  "You have tomorrow off." I look down at the silver watch on my wrist. "No early beddy-bye time for my man tonight. You'll enjoy yourself at this party and then I'll blow you on the ride home in the backseat of the car."

  He glances down at the front of his tuxedo pants. "Thanks for that. My cock is at full attention now."

  "My brother owns this hotel. I bet I can get us a good hourly rate on a room."

  "Hourly rate?" He buries his face in my hair, his lips brushing over the shell of my ear. "Once I get you out of that dress, it's going to be hours until you leave my arms."

  "We'll stay for another thirty minutes and then we can leave," I promise with a pat to his cheek. "I have a surprise for you tonight."

  "For me?" He questions roughly. "I'm the most impatient man on earth when it comes to you. Tell me what it is now."

  "No." I kiss him hard on the mouth. "You have to wait."

  I watch him twist his lips as he thinks about it. "I have a surprise for you too, Brynn. I can give it to you now."

  "You say the same thing to me every morning," I deadpan. "It's not a surprise anymore, Smith. I know it's your cock and no, you can't give it to me now."

  "It's this." He drops to one knee.

  What the hell? He drops to on
e knee and pulls my great-grandma's ring from his pocket.

  I knew he had it. I noticed it missing last week.

  "All I want in this life is you." He looks up and into my eyes. "You are my sunshine. You give me hope. You're the most incredible person that has ever walked the face of this earth and I promise you that if you will be my wife, I will treasure you every single day until I die in your arms because there's no way in hell I'll spend one moment without you."

  "Smith," I breathe out his name slowly. "Oh my God."

  "Marry me on the rooftop at the top of the world, my beautiful Petal. Let me show you every day how much I love you."

  I cover my hand with my mouth knowing that I'm about to scream out in pure joy. This day started out in the most amazing way possible and now it's ending with a proposal from the man I love more than life itself.

  "Say yes," he urges. "Please say yes."

  I pull him up with both hands by the lapel of his jacket. "Let me give you my surprise first."

  His smile fades. "Why? I need you to say yes. I'm dying here."

  I reach in my clutch and pull out a small white rectangular box. I wrapped a red ribbon around it this morning. My hands were shaking, tears were streaming down my face and as I watched Smith on Rise and Shine on the television in our apartment, I felt my heart burst wide open.

  "Open it." I push it at him. "Just open it."

  He nods in silence.

  It feels like eternity as he slowly unties the ribbon and removes the lid of the box. His hands fumble with the white tissue paper before they still.

  "Brynn."

  Just my name comes from his lips and then tears stream down his cheeks.

  "I don't know what the hell this means but I know what I want it to mean."

  I touch the tip of the test stick. "Two lines means yes. Yes, I'll marry you and yes, we're having a baby."

  He pulls me to him, cradling the back of my head in his hand. "We are leaving now. I need to make love to my fiancée. I may need to cry too, but they're happy tears, Petal. The happiest tears I've ever cried."