by Noelle Adams
He felt a tightening of nerves as he slid his hand beneath the waistband of her jeans and then beneath her underwear. He explored until he could feel the brush of her pubic hair. With some more fingering, he was able to open her up. She was warm and wet and soft.
So incredibly soft.
She gasped when he touched her intimately, bending up her knees and widening her thighs.
He stroked up and down, trying to make more room for his hand by yanking down her jeans a little bit. Then he could angle his fingers better. He found her entrance. “Can I—”
“Yeah! Yeah, please!” She was closing her eyes and biting her lip. Her hands were clenched in the comforter.
He sank a finger inside her.
He’d never felt the inside of a woman before. She was really wet, and her inner walls were clinging to the intrusion, like she was trying to grab his finger and keep it inside her. After a minute, he pulled it out and felt his way up. He knew his anatomy. Her clit should be somewhere...
She suddenly jerked and arched up. “There! Brent, there.”
He couldn’t hold back a pleased smile at how he was making her feel. She was almost, almost out of control. He pressed down into her clit with his thumb, and her body arched up again. “Just keep rubbing right there.”
He did as she said, massaging her clit and eating up her uninhibited responses. Her hips were starting to rock up into his touch. She was going to come soon. He didn’t know how much tighter her body could get before it simply erupted.
He wanted to be even closer to her, so he leaned down to kiss her again, managing to sustain the massage on her clit. She opened to him eagerly, her tongue moving in a sloppy, greedy kiss.
This felt better. More like they were really together. He kept kissing her and rubbing her, holding tight to his own arousal until she made a sudden sobbing sound and her body started to shake.
He rubbed her through her orgasm. She rocked and whimpered and clutched at the comforter until the spasms had worked their way through her. She collapsed back on the bed afterward with a smile on her face.
She was panting. “Wow. That was... thank you.”
He lay down on his side so he was closer to her. “It was good?”
She huffed. “Uh, yeah. That was good.”
“Well, I just did what you told me to do.”
She giggled and rolled over so she was on top of him. She gave him a little kiss before she said, “Let me tell you, Brent. Just listening to what a woman says in bed and trying to do what she wants you to do is going to put you yards and miles ahead of a good percentage of men. If you keep doing that, if you keep going like you’re starting, you’re going to be a king in the bedroom.”
His heart swelled ridiculously. “Well, I guess I’ll keep doing it then.”
She kissed him enthusiastically, and while he was distracted by the kiss, her hand moved down his body and slipped under the waistband of his pants. So he was startled when he suddenly felt her little fingers wrapping around his erection.
He grunted and jerked.
She’d only touched him through his pants in the past. This was the first time he’d felt her hands on his bare skin.
Chloe grew still. “Is this okay? I’m sorry. I should have asked first.”
“Of—” He made an embarrassing squirming move because her touch was driving him crazy. “Of course it’s okay. Fuck, Chloe, are you gonna...”
“I’m going to do for you what you did for me, if that’s okay with you.”
He tried to speak but couldn’t. He nodded instead.
Kept nodding.
She giggled. “That’s a yes?”
“That’s a yes.”
She squeezed his shaft.
He arched up. “Yes. Please.”
She released him so she could feel up and down the length of him, fondling his balls and playing with his pubic hair. But she obviously wasn’t going to tease him too badly because she got a grip on him again and started to pull and squeeze in a fast motion.
He tossed his head on the pillow and rocked his hips to her rhythm.
“How is this, Brent?” she asked. “Is it going to work for you?”
“Fuck, yes. It’s gonna work. It’s gonna work so good. I’m gonna...”
He didn’t want to embarrass himself, but he didn’t have much choice at the moment. He was already working up toward climax. All the arousal of the past hour had coiled and clenched into this.
It had to release.
It had to release right now.
He grunted and pumped and held on to her body with one arm, holding her as close as he could make her. And in an embarrassingly short amount of time he was coming in several hard spurts in his pants.
She squeezed him through the contractions, and eventually his body stopped bucking and jerking.
He fell back onto the pillow, pulling her with him.
He hoped she didn’t mind. He wanted to hug her. Hold her close.
She grabbed some tissues to clean him up and then draped herself over him and stroked his belly and side until he’d recovered enough to talk.
“So that was pretty good, I guess?” she asked.
“For me? Uh, yeah. It was the best thing ever. Was it good for you too?” He lifted his head to check her face.
She smiled at him. “It was really good.”
He breathed out his relief and adjusted her against him. “Good.”
“Are you going to go right to sleep again tonight?”
“Maybe. That takes a lot out of a man. But I’ll stay awake if you want me to.”
“Nah. You can sleep. We don’t need to have any afterglow chats. But if you’re with a woman for real, you might make sure she doesn’t want to cuddle and talk for a while. The orgasms aren’t always the most important thing for women.”
Damn it. She was talking about other women again. Why did she keep doing that?
He didn’t want to be with another woman.
He couldn’t imagine ever wanting to be with another woman.
“We can talk if you want,” he said lightly. “Do you want to?”
She hesitated. “No.”
“That didn’t sound very convincing.”
“No, I’m serious. It’s not like you have to—I’m not trying to be your girlfriend. So you don’t have to act with me like you would with someone else.”
He frowned but didn’t know how to say what he was thinking without making a complete mess of things.
She stroked his chest. “You’re going to be really good with women, Brent. You’re sweet and thoughtful and considerate and observant, and you really think about the other person. That’s what’s most important. All the bad sex I’ve had in my life has happened because the guy cared more about his pleasure than he did about me and how I was feeling. As long as you keep thinking about the other person, as long as you make her feel safe and comfortable and really listen to her and work together to figure out what makes you both happy, you’re going to be really good in bed.”
He appreciated what she was telling him. She seemed to be sincere.
But there was something underlying it. A distancing he didn’t like.
“Do you...”
Her head jerked up when he trailed off.
He started again. “Do you feel safe and comfortable? With me?”
Her eyes widened. “Yes. Yes, I do.” She bit her bottom lip and added, “To tell you the truth, I can’t remember the last person I’ve felt as safe and... and taken care of with as I feel with you.”
The clench in his heart relaxed. He pulled her down into a hug.
Her body softened. She seemed to feel better too.
He tried to stay awake in case she wanted to talk some more, but he didn’t last very long.
In only a few minutes, he fell asleep.
Seven
CHLOE DIDN’T LET HERSELF fall asleep that evening.
She waited, cuddled up at his side and trying not to enjoy it too much, until she wa
s sure Brent was really asleep. His body was scorching hot, fully relaxed. Sated. Content. It took him no time to doze off, and as soon as she was sure he was fully asleep, she carefully extricated herself from his arm and climbed off the bed.
She was going to do better.
She wasn’t going to let herself get fooled by this again.
She’d kept reminding herself during her time with Brent this evening why they were together, and it seemed to work for the most part. She’d made herself think of him with other women after what they had together was over.
It would be easier if he wasn’t so sweet. If he didn’t always make her feel like she was special, like he cared about her just for her. But that was clearly just his way.
She’d told Michelle she would talk to him and make sure they were on the same page about what was between them. She’d done that.
Now she knew.
She wasn’t going to start thinking it might be something else.
She returned to her room, feeling physically satiated but emotionally restless. She took a hot shower to try to calm herself down and then got under the covers.
She wanted to go back to Brent’s room. Brent’s bed. She wanted to sleep snuggled up against him again tonight.
But she wasn’t going to do that. That would be stupid. It would lead her to wrong thinking, and she was smarter than that now.
This was the way it was.
This was who she was.
She was a nice person who was good at a lot of things—including sex.
But guys didn’t fall in love with her.
Not even when she wanted them to.
A FEW DAYS LATER WAS Friday, and Chloe was feeling better.
They just had to get through the rest of the week. Another dinner tonight with Mima and the family. Then the weekend and Sunday morning Mass. Chloe came over to visit Mima on most days by herself, but there were only a couple more times when Brent would be part of it. Then Mima would leave, and Chloe would be freed of this ruse with Brent.
Everything was going to be just fine.
She got up early and went into work before Brent came out of his room. Not on purpose. Just because she was ready to go and decided to get an early start on the day. She did text him in the middle of the day to make sure he was still available for dinner at her parents’ place, and he replied that he was still good with it.
After about a minute, another text came in from him.
Thanks for last night.
She stared at the words on her phone for a long time, wondering what he meant by them, what he was trying to say.
Then she reminded herself that guys almost never had hidden meanings the way women thought they did. He probably meant exactly what he said. So she replied, I enjoyed it! After a few seconds of thought, she added a smiley face before hitting Send.
Then she put her phone and Brent away and tried to focus on work.
BRENT PICKED HER UP from her building at just after five, and they drove over to her parents’ house for an early dinner.
Mima was in a good mood, immediately capturing Brent so she could chat with him about his job and his family and his plans for the future. Chloe would have preferred to remain part of the conversation so she could help Brent out of any sticky situation, but her mother called her into the kitchen to help get dinner ready.
Chloe didn’t really have a choice. She had to leave him alone with Mima.
She squeezed his shoulder as she walked away, hoping he knew she’d rather not abandon him this way.
Her mother was bustling around, preparing meatloaf, mashed potatoes, roasted broccoli, and dinner rolls. Chloe helped by taking over the mashing of the potatoes.
“How’s Mima doing?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder at her mother.
“She’s okay. Tired a lot. But we made the right decision about using Brent. She’s so happy about that.”
Chloe felt a familiar sick twisting of her gut. “Okay. Good.”
“Mima seems to like him. I’m not sure why, but she does.”
“What do you mean, you’re not sure why? Why shouldn’t she like Brent?”
“Nothing, dear.” Her mother used the intentionally soothing tone she always did when she’d said something to upset Chloe. “I’m sure he’s a lovely man, if you can get past the lumberjack beard and all the brooding.”
“He doesn’t brood!”
“Of course not.”
“He doesn’t. Why would you say he broods?”
“He just doesn’t say much, is all I meant.”
“Well, what do you expect him to say? He’s doing this as a favor, and it’s an awkward situation. He’s kind of shy. It’s not easy for him to open up. But he’s got the best heart in the world. He really cares about people. I’ve never known another guy who’s treated me better than he does.” Chloe’s vehemence surprised her, but she couldn’t allow her mother’s critique of Brent to go unanswered.
Her mother blinked. “All right. Don’t get upset about it. I didn’t mean anything.”
“Yes, you did. You did mean something. And you can’t talk about Brent that way.”
“Okay. I won’t. I didn’t realize you felt that way about him. I thought he was just your roommate.”
“He’s not just my roommate.” Chloe’s voice cracked as she suddenly realized how far from just her roommate he really was. She couldn’t admit the truth in such a situation, however. She wasn’t allowed to feel that way about him. So she added lamely, “He’s my friend.”
“Okay. Okay. No need to overreact. I’m sure he’s a lovely man. Those mashed potatoes look fine now. Why don’t you go tell Brent and Mima that dinner is ready?”
Chloe walked out of the kitchen and nearly ran smack into Brent. He’d been standing just outside the entrance, around a corner where she hadn’t been able to see him.
But he would have been able to hear.
He might have been able to hear her conversation with her mother.
She wondered with a flutter of her heart how much of what she’d said he’d heard.
DINNER WENT SMOOTHLY, despite the awkward beginning. Mima was in fine form, laughing and telling stories and gracefully including Brent in the conversation so much so that he started talking more naturally.
Chloe had every reason to be happy about dinner after they’d cleaned up and said good night to Mima, but instead of being pleased, she felt a bittersweet ache growing in her chest.
She wasn’t even sure what caused it, but she was quiet as she walked beside Brent to the Jeep. It was dark out now, and Brent’s bearded face was illuminated only by the moon and the decorative light pole at the end of the front walk.
Brent wasn’t saying anything, but that wasn’t unusual. When they reached the passenger door, he reached to grab the handle to open it for her, but he stopped and turned to look at her instead. “Are you all right?” he asked softly.
She opened her mouth to say she was fine, but she couldn’t get the words out.
Brent’s eyes were searching her face. Soft. Concerned. Questioning. Without warning, he reached out and pulled her into a hug.
She hugged him back, wrapping her arms around him and taking comfort in his strength and his heat. His solidity. His heart beating next to her ear, fast and steady and alive.
Brent had ducked his head into the crook of her neck, and after a minute he said against her ear, “You can just tell Mima the truth. You’re allowed to do that.”
“I know.” Chloe’s throat ached. How could he possibly have understood so clearly what she was feeling just now? “But I don’t know. It would hurt her.”
His arms tightened. “But this is hurting you.”
It was hurting her. She shook with suppressed sobs against his chest. She thought she had herself under control when she pulled away. “I just want her to love me... for me.”
“She does. Chloe, I can see that she does. She’s not going to care if you’re engaged or not. She’ll love you and be happy for who you
are anyway.”
Chloe sniffed and ran her fingertip under one eye so a tear wouldn’t fall. “Do you think so?”
“Yes. I think so. I can see it.”
“But she really likes you. She’ll be disappointed we’re not engaged. And she’ll be so hurt that we all lied to her this way.”
“I know.” He sighed and reached out to brush some hair back from her face. The gesture was hesitant, so gentle. “You just have to decide what feels more right to you.”
“Yeah.” She took a deep breath and smiled up at him. “Thank you. You made me feel better.”
“Good. I want you to feel better.” He cleared his throat and dropped his eyes. “I... uh, I did want to say. I heard.”
“You heard?”
“I overheard. I didn’t mean to listen, but I was coming into the kitchen. And I heard what you said to your mom. About me.”
Chloe went still. “Oh.”
Brent still wasn’t meeting her eyes. “I’m sorry I heard. But... but did you mean it?”
“Did I... mean it?”
“Yes. Did you mean it?” His eyes finally lifted to meet hers. “Did you mean what you said about me?”
She thought back to what she’d said. What had burst out of her in defense of Brent. She’d meant it. Every word. She nodded. “Uh, yeah.”
“You really think I treat you better than other guys?”
“Of course you do.” She took a step forward and flattened her palms against his chest, needing to feel him close to her. “Brent, you’re amazing. You’ve made me feel... better about myself than anyone ever has. You have no idea how much it means to me.”
His features twisted briefly behind his beard. “You should feel good about yourself. It’s wrong that anyone has ever made you feel bad about yourself. You’re... you’re like...”
He trailed off, obviously at a loss for words. Chloe would normally be patient with his hesitance, but she was straining toward what he was telling her. She needed to hear it.
Needed it.
“I’m like what?” she whispered, her hands clenching in his shirt.
“You’re like...” He gave a huff and glanced away. “All I can think of are clichés.”