Brazen Girl: Brazen Series Book 3

by Dean, Ali

  It isn’t the first time she’s made this kind of offer, as if her earlier request for help wasn’t obvious enough. She’s heard I’m good at fixing things? Man, she’s really trying all angles here. She used to say shit like this when I was dating her supposed best friend Kelly years ago, but her skills in subtlety have really deteriorated with time.

  I’m getting better at masking my shock, and looking as unaffected as possible, but at the moment it’s taking some real effort not to laugh alongside Moses. My phone buzzes in my back pocket as Moses follows Camila to her room. I’ll have to thank him later for saving me.

  I can hear the rest of the cast on the back deck, and I should join them. Not all of them are as annoying as Camila, or Kelly, or Bikini Girl. But I’m already taking out my phone and once I see it’s from Jordan, I know I’ll be spending the rest of the night in my room. Maybe we can actually talk on the phone instead of text. Hearing her voice is like a detox from this place. Even if she hasn’t said a damn word about whether I’ve got a chance at getting back with her, texting and talking to her is still the best part of my day.

  Chapter Eleven

  Early April – two months later

  Jordan

  As passengers start to come through the doors, the anticipation that’s been building for weeks goes into overdrive. With it, doubt bombards me.

  What if he doesn’t feel the same way about me anymore?

  What if he doesn’t find me attractive?

  What if he’s changed?

  I’ve been talking to Beck on the phone and texting with him the entire time he’s been filming. Almost three months now. I would know if he’s changed, right? While he still says all the things to make me believe he wants me just the same, the reality is that I broke up with him nearly four months ago. He has no loyalty to me, and I haven’t asked that from him.

  I can’t be sure if it’s been Beck’s sense of obligation that’s kept him talking with me. After all, he’s maintained this weird non-relationship with his dad out of a sense of duty, and for whatever reason, he stuck with his ex-girlfriend Kelly for longer than he really wanted to.

  All I know is, I need him. As a friend—if that’s all I can get, I’ll take that. But even with the support of my friends and family, there’s something missing. I thought it could be fixed by skateboarding, but turns out it’s not so simple.

  My heart races as more people come through the doors, heading to baggage claim or greeting others standing around like I am.

  When he finally walks through the door, my first instinct is to charge him. Sprint in his direction and jump on him. I manage to stay rooted in place but my face stretches into the widest smile.

  He looks exactly the same, and perfect. His eyes find mine, and I can tell he’s fighting the same instinct to run at me because his pace picks up.

  Beck’s arms pull me to him and I go willingly. He squeezes me tight and my arms wrap around his chest, holding on with all I’ve got.

  “I missed you so much,” I say against his chest.

  He rocks me a little, taking deep breaths. Beck lets me go enough so I can look up at him. We take each other in, all smiles, and then we’re laughing and hugging again.

  It’s like this the entire thirty-minute drive back from the airport to Hartsville. We keep looking at each other with stupid grins on our faces.

  “My parents are at work,” I tell him as we pull into the garage. Then I laugh at myself. “I don’t know why I just told you that. It sounds like something I’d say to a boyfriend in high school. You know, if I’d had a boyfriend in high school.”

  Beck reaches for my hand before I can open the door. “You’re nervous, and it’s cute. Do you know how many times I’ve been nervous around you when you didn’t seem to be at all?”

  I bite my lip and open the door. Beck’s only got a backpack and his board. “So, are you nervous right now?” I ask as we walk through the house and stop at the door across from my bedroom.

  “I was up until I saw you. Now I’m too damn happy to be nervous.”

  I open the door. “This is the guest room. My room’s across the hall. Bathroom’s next door.”

  My hands are getting clammy. All I want to do is push him onto that bed and kiss him like my life depends on it. But we haven’t said a single word, by phone or text or anything, about whether that’s going to happen when we see each other. Even seeing him in person and hugging him, I’m still not convinced he’s not operating in part out of pity. If anyone would do that, it would be Beck. My crash and the concussion made me a bit of a charity case.

  “Hey.” His voice is gentle as he looks at me with a little furrow between his brow. “I don’t know if I like it when my Jordan is nervous. Talk to me.”

  My Jordan. Okay, I can work with that.

  But instead of telling him what’s on my mind, I blurt out what I’d been planning to ask him when we walked through the door. “Are you hungry? Thirsty? We have beer, lemonade, coffee…”

  Beck cuts me off. “What’s going on, Jordan? I’ve seen you look like this maybe five times ever, and it’s freaking me out.”

  My eyes glance out the window before returning to his. I’d forgotten how powerful that blue was.

  “The things on my mind, they’re hard to talk about. I don’t want to dump it all on you right after you got here.”

  “You know that’s why I’m here, right?”

  “What do you mean? Why are you here?”

  “To get all of you.”

  Those simple words are so Beck. So real, unfiltered, honest. But they don’t really answer my questions or tell me what I want to know. Can I kiss you? That’s the first thing I want to ask. Are you still mine?

  There are other things I should say, more pressing topics about where we stand, what we are, if this can go anywhere again even if we both still want that. But fuck it, I’m going with the one thing I really want to know right in this instant.

  “What I really want to know, Beck, is whether you’d be down with me kissing you right now.”

  Beck doesn’t respond. Not with words. His hands cup my face and his lips are on mine before I can even blink.

  Beck

  She hums in pleasure as I kiss her with everything in me. She must be crazy if she thinks she’ll ever need permission before kissing me.

  Anytime, anywhere, Jordan Slattery, you can kiss me.

  I try to tell her that with my mouth and tongue, and when that doesn’t seem to get the point across, I walk her backwards to the bed and bring her down with me until my body covers her. Once I’ve got her caged in, I pull away enough to tell her, “Jordan, do you know how many times I’ve thought about kissing you these past few months?”

  She blushes, and it kickstarts my heart. My dick too, but that’s no surprise given its state since the second I saw her at the airport.

  “Probably not as many times as I pictured you kissing me. I had no idea how vivid an imagination I had until recently.” Her blush deepens and I bring my lips to hers again, moving my hips between her legs as I do. She moans and I press harder.

  “Oh Beck. I want you so bad. We have time. Please.” Jordan is begging me, and it’s all I’ve dreamed about. I had no idea this was what would be waiting for me when I got off the plane. I can’t decide if it’s better or worse that she gave me no warning on the phone beforehand. I thought we’d at least try the friends-only thing for a while, and I’d feel her out, see if she still wanted me. She’s telling me in no uncertain terms just how much she wants me, and after confirming her parents won’t be barging in, I shut the door, lock it, and tear off my clothes.

  “You don’t need a condom,” she tells me.

  “You sure?” I’m not about to tell her I packed a stash just in case my dreams did come true on this visit. We’d stopped using them shortly before… well, before the crash.

  Jordan hesitates for just a second, and I don’t like the shadow that passes across her face for an instant. “I mean, unless you think
we need them now?”

  I start pulling down her jeans, wanting that lust-filled look on her face again. “We don’t need one,” I promise, wanting to be skin to skin. My hands cup her center and she’s back to moaning and begging. Jordan doesn’t want foreplay and I’m totally okay with that.

  Jordan

  My eyes flutter closed as he enters me. It’s the most overwhelming pleasure, having Beck inside me. There’s some pain too, but even that I welcome. It tells me he’s really here, connected with me in the most intimate way possible. He pauses when he’s as far as he can go, and my eyelids lift.

  “You feel so good, Beck.” I’m not usually a big talker when we’re together like this. There’s so much to take in without any words. But right now, I need him to know exactly how good this is for me. Maybe it’s because we lost our physical connection all this time, but it feels right as I grab his ass and tell him I need him to move.

  “Don’t be gentle, Beck. I want all of you.” It’s an echo of what he said before, and I mean it. If there’s anger or frustration at how I’ve handled everything, I want to feel that too.

  “Hard?” he grunts, seeking confirmation. He moves his hips solid and sure, but it’s not enough.

  “I want everything I’ve missed,” I manage to get out as my body tingles with an awareness I haven’t had in far too long. “Give me all of it, Beck.”

  “Everything?”

  “Everything.”

  “It’s a lot that’s been building for you, Jordan.” His thrusts remain rhythmic and controlled, even as he slams with enough force that it pushes me back on the bed. I reach my legs around him and dig my heels into his back. Lifting up on my elbows to brace myself, I hold his gaze.

  “Show me how much.” He drops his chin, like he’s unwilling to give me what I’m asking, and that’s when I drop the last encouragement that I know will make him lose control. “This isn’t enough, Beck. I need more.”

  Yeah, Beck bucks harder then, rocking my body despite my efforts to hold myself up. His hands move under my shoulders to steady me and he begins to pound in earnest. Beck’s always made me feel alive in bed and cherished at the same time. In this moment though, it’s the first time I’ve really seen him lose control the way I want him to. I want this to be about him. I need him to let it all out. And this is how I want him to do it. Holding me the way he is, our breaths mingling, unable to kiss properly with the harsh jerking of our bodies. A bead of sweat drops from his forehead to mine, and when I tug his lip closer with my teeth, he plunges his tongue inside in a hungry kiss that has our teeth clashing together.

  Beck unleashed is the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced. He moves one hand from my shoulder to my ass, somehow making his angle even deeper. Then he lifts up on a knee, increasing his tempo and sending me over the edge. As I go, incoherent words tumble from my lips.

  I didn’t think it was possible, but Beck somehow goes deeper, harder, faster just as I’m coming down. Pleasure bursts from my center, making my back arch with the ferocity of it as I sense Beck expanding within me. His release fills me as his movements jerk and little by little slow until he lowers me back down and releases his grip on my ass. Beck’s palm strokes over my hip and moves up my body, gently cupping my breast as he trails kisses over my face.

  “You okay?”

  “Wow, Beck.” That’s all I can manage to get out.

  “You didn’t know how bad I missed you, did you?”

  I find the energy to drag my hand up to cup his face, tracing my thumb along his cheekbone.

  “You really did, huh?”

  He nods.

  “I felt that,” I confirm. “Still not sure it’s as much as I missed you,” I add with a little shrug, enjoying teasing him.

  “You’re still wearing my necklace.” Beck’s teeth drag along it as his lips brush my collarbone.

  “I’m still yours, Beck. It never stopped.”

  Beck raises his head, vibrant blue eyes peeking under dark lashes. “Yeah?”

  How does he not know? I barely lasted a week without calling him.

  “Yeah, so better make a good impression on my parents. No pressure or anything, but meeting them butt-ass naked probably isn’t the best approach.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Beck

  “You know,” Jordan’s dad says. “Most fathers would be concerned with their eighteen-year-old daughter dating someone seven years older than her.”

  “That’s fair. Are you concerned?”

  “See, I know better.”

  “Can’t wait to hear this,” his wife mutters as she butters a roll.

  “Men are a good ten years behind women in emotional maturity. On average. So, giving you the benefit of the doubt that you’re above average, emotional maturity-wise you’re about the same age.”

  “False, Dad,” Jordan says.

  “Yeah, he’s missing an important point in his efforts to suck up to the females at the table,” Colleen, Jordan’s mom, says.

  “Well, shoot.” Ted looks at me. “See, I don’t even question it. I know better by now. I probably am missing something.”

  “I’m above average too, Dad. So really, I’m still more emotionally mature than Beck.”

  Colleen nods. “Sorry, Beck. But it’s true.”

  I share a look with Ted. “It’s okay. I’m used to it. My sister’s almost ten years younger than me and definitely wiser.”

  Colleen points her fork at her daughter. “I’m glad you took my advice, sweetie.”

  “Which advice, Mom?”

  “You should find a guy with a sister. Men with sisters understand women better.”

  “Dad doesn’t have any sisters.”

  “Yes, I had to train him. If they don’t have sisters they need a daughter. Beck has a head start.”

  Now Jordan and I share a look. Hers is slightly apologetic and embarrassed, but I’ve never been more content in my life.

  When we first started talking regularly again, I was just grateful she didn’t seem intent on kicking me out of her life entirely. It gave me an opening, room to hope that maybe someday we could be together again. But she never mentioned that possibility, so when I got on a plane this morning, I didn’t let myself think that time would be now. I assumed she had more healing to do, not necessarily physically, but from all the shit that had gone down. She still hadn’t said a word about skateboarding, and I assumed that meant she wasn’t ready to compete again either. I don’t buy that she’s done with competing forever either.

  “In all seriousness, Jordan told us you two are just friends now, so I know I’m not supposed to be talking to you like you’re thinking about marrying her or anything.”

  “Dad, maybe this is why I never had boyfriends in high school. You win the ‘most embarrassing dad’ title.”

  He continues, “But, whatever is happening between you two I actually only have two real criteria for marriage to my daughter.”

  Colleen sputters. “Ted! Really?”

  “Let me have fun with this. It’s my moment.”

  “I think it’s a bit premature myself,” Jordan says. “If he gets back on a plane tomorrow morning, I’m blaming you.”

  Ted continues, intent on his little speech. “First, that you absolutely adore my daughter. And second, that you have integrity. You have the first, but I haven’t known you long enough to determine if you meet the second criteria. So far, I feel confident enough in Jordan’s judgment to give you the benefit of the doubt. Unless you prove me wrong.”

  Colleen pats him on the arm. “Honey, if you’re trying to be all tough and intimidating, it’s not working. You’ll always come off as a friendly teddy bear, no matter how hard you try.”

  “It’s really up to Jordan at this point,” I admit. “I’ll basically do anything she wants me to do.”

  “Um, so what’s for dessert?” she asks, clearly wanting out of this conversation.

  The rest of us laugh.

  “Actually, I figured you’d w
ant a break from us by now,” Ted admits. “Why don’t you take him for ice cream?”

  “Oh yeah, maybe we can go to The Swirl. I know you probably don’t want to go where you work, but you’ve been talking up that ice cream for a while so you gotta take me while I’m here.”

  “Yeah, the ice cream game just isn’t as strong in Summerside. You need to taste the good stuff.”

  I should have known as soon as we were together again, it’d be easy. When it’s just us doing our thing, there’s nothing to question. I know we can’t hide from the outside world forever, but at least I know that if we still have this, it’s worth fighting for.

  * * *

  Jordan swings on the chair hanging from the front porch the next morning. “You really want to go back to The Swirl again? We just had breakfast an hour ago.”

  “No, we can go after we skate a little. I want to check out the park you grew up at.”

  I can’t wait to skate with her again.

  “Beck?”

  “Yeah.” I don’t like the way she sounds uncertain.

  “I have to tell you something.”

  My heart drops to my stomach. Oh no, please don’t wreck this perfect moment, this series of perfect moments. I don’t know if I’ll be able to hold my shit together if she tells me…

  “I can’t skateboard anymore.”

  That sends me sliding back in my chair in shock. “I thought you said the doctor cleared you three weeks ago.”

  “She did.”

  I wait, the relief that it’s not what I feared overshadowed by confusion.