by J Marie
“So, what is this compound you mention?”
“It’s five thousand acres of land that a group of people live on, free from intrusion.”
“Interesting.”
I look her in the eye seriously for the next question. I don’t want to ask it, but I need to know. I don’t want to finally have her all to myself and then have her in someone else’s bed the next night. We aren’t in a relationship, but I won’t share her. My fist bunches at the instant possessiveness of someone else having what is mine. Even though she’s not really mine.
She quirks an eyebrow. “Your turn…”
I take a deep breath. “While you’re giving me lessons, are you sleeping with anyone else? I know this isn’t a relationship, but it would be weird to sleep with you and then know you’re going to someone else the next night.”
“Is that what you want?”
“Does it make me bad to not want to worry about what other guys have?”
She glares over at me… “Are you insinuating that I’m not being cautious with my sexual partners, Brooks?”
I throw my hands up in defense. “No, No, nothing like that. It’s just I’d feel better if you were focusing on just me for the time being.”
“Done. I’ve been tested recently, I’m clean, and I’m on birth control.” I nod my head, accepting her answer even though it’s not what I want to hear.
“Have you ever just slept in the same bed as a girl?”
I shake my head. “No.”
She empties her wine glass and sets it on the coffee table. “You want another?” I say, nodding to the empty glass.
“Sure, that’d be great.” I get up, moving toward the kitchen. Things have been sailing smoothly for most of the night, minus a couple of those questions. I feel like she’s letting me in just a little bit by answering questions. Not fully, but I’ll take it. She still won’t talk about her family, and that’s fine because I don’t want to either. They’ve already taken up enough of my life; they don’t need to follow me here too.
I’m glad for the brief reprieve in questions. Some of them I’m not entirely sure how to answer, like the was-I-sleeping-with anyone else question? I haven’t slept with anyone since Brooks moved in. I thought it would be weird to bring random guys over and parade them in front of him, but he basically makes it sound like we’re in a monogamous relationship. In a way, I get it. He doesn’t want to worry about catching something, but openly saying it like I’d even allow myself to catch a disease really puts me off.
One part of me wants to tell him to suck it because I’ll fuck who I want to, but the other part of me has learned to care about Brooks as a person, and I can’t go against him like that.
I hear him rustling around in the kitchen, opening the fridge. A few seconds later, he reappears, wine bottle in hand. He passes me my glass and I hum happily. Any man who willingly refills my wine is a winner in my book. “Thanks for getting that.” I swirl the wine in my glass and inhale the aroma. He laughs and drops back down into the spot he’d just vacated a few minutes ago.
Looking over at me, his smile is back, touching his eyes. “Where were we?”
I take a sip of my wine and pop my lips. “I think it’s your turn.”
Brooks waits like he’s trying to think of the perfect question. He looks around the room once, twice, like he’s nervous to ask. “Ask me.” Two words are all I say.
“Condoms or bare?”
I choke, hacking up a lung on the sip of wine I just took and Brooks pats my back. Clearing my throat, I look over at him. “Well, I was not expecting that question. I prefer bare, but I don’t trust most guys.”
“What about with me?”
“I’m clean and on birth control. So, it’s really up to you. You know my choice.”
“Which feels better?” His face is serious.
“You really want me to answer that?”
“I’m assuming it’s bare…”
“Think about it this way, Brooks. Do you want to feel the actual warmth of my V, or do you want to shove your dick into a hat that’s way too tight and then feel like you’re going to lose all feeling in it?”
“Bare it is. You know, I’ve never been with anyone else. No one’s even touched me other than you, so I’m clean.”
I try to adjust the way I’m sitting on the couch. My feet are cold, but I don’t want to just shove my cold feet up against Brooks.
He must see me on the struggle bus. “Hey, you okay over there?”
“No, I’m trying to get my feet covered up. They’re cold.” I fake pout.
“Here, scooch over and put your feet on me under the blanket. I’ll keep them warm.”
“You sure?”
“Positive, pixie.” His old nickname sneaks out between his lips. Heat steals across my cheeks, and I look down at my feet. Moving them to slide onto his lap under the blanket, I wiggle my toes. Big warm hands grab one and start massaging. I tense briefly but can’t hold back how good it feels as he digs his fingers into my arch. I moan. It happens. Comes right out of my mouth and there it is. I’m getting pleasure out of having my foot rubbed. “Oh, yes.”
The sound coming from my mouth again is all kinds of indecent, and I’m sure it’s a straight hit to Brooks’ dick, but I don’t care. It feels good, and I want him to know it.
“Yes, keep going. Uh huh, right there…. yasssss,” I purr. Brooks nonchalantly slips a pillow between his slowly growing dick and my feet. His fingers roll over my heel, up my arch, and between my toes, making sure he works every bit of them thoroughly. He keeps rubbing, and another groan slips from my lips. “You know you could do this for the rest of my life, and I’d be one happy lady.” The words slip from my lips before I realize what I’ve just said in my foot massage euphoric state.
I catch Brooks’ heated stare. I’m assuming it’s based on the words I let carelessly slip from my mouth. We’re suspended in this moment as time floats by.
Finally blinking myself out of my trance, I realize how untrue those words really are between us. I’m only helping him learn how to pleasure a woman so he can satisfy someone else. There will not be a rest of my life and Brooks.
My blue eyes stare up at his unending deep chocolate ones. He leans in toward me like he’s swooping in to steal a kiss. Like he wants to lick the seam of my lips until I give in and allow him entry. He’s so close that I can feel my breath against his jawline. My brain finally clues me in on what the plan is and reminds me of one tiny detail. I don’t kiss, especially on the lips. I have a strict no kissing rule, and I plan to stick to it.
He leans in just an inch closer. “I can’t,” I whisper, and he jerks back. “I… I don’t kiss, Brooks. I won’t break my rule, even for you.”
He nods once and then pulls away, losing eye contact, and for a moment I miss it. I miss the deep stare, the intense connection we share if only briefly and out of stupidity. I down the rest of the wine in my glass and grab for the bottle on the coffee table before realizing that what sounds good right now is actually a long slow hit of a joint. I leave the comfort and warmth of the couch to go in search of my stash.
“Where are you going?” I hear Brooks call out from behind me.
“Wanna smoke something.”
He says something else, but it sounds like a mumble so I don’t pay it too much attention as I keep walking. I head into my room and grab my stash, quickly rolling up a joint.
A few minutes later, I’m back in the living room, cuddling back under the throw, wine in one hand, joint in the other.
“Much better.” The look on Brooks’ face is laced with concern, and I have to look away. I don’t need his concern. I’ve been fine for years by myself, and just because we find ourselves in this close setting doesn’t mean I’m going to throw all my beliefs out the window and jump into something with him. It’s just the wine, the foot rub, and the closeness… that’s all. My feelings are still very intact and properly buried. Thank you very much.
Now that I th
ink about it, my movements are a little sluggish, and I can’t tell you how many glasses I’ve actually had. The cotton in my brain is starting to clog up my good sense, leaving my instincts to the wayside. The alcohol always unlocks certain cravings within me which is why I don’t drink to get drunk. It’s why I usually limit myself to one or two drinks. Those little cravings whisper at me that maybe Brooks is different. No. I shake my head.
I eye him sitting on the couch, smiling at me. “Okay, Brooks, spill. Why is it you’ve never had sex? Plenty of people have the opportunity, but not everyone turns it down. I’ve seen you turn it down at the bar before so why?”
He drinks down the rest of the wine, clearly avoiding the subject. His eyes are glassy. “Ask me something else?”
“I guess my next question would be, how have you gone so long?”
“I’m good at controlling my urges.”
“Does this have to do with the way you grew up?”
He nods once but doesn’t go to speak up about anything else.
“Are you ever going to tell me about this mysterious town you grew up in?”
“Eventually. Are you?”
The alcohol has obviously loosened my tongue this evening. The next words coming out of my mouth shock me. It’s as if my mouth takes on a form of its own and just starts talking while I sit back and listen.
“I have a complicated past. I grew up in a home where love was a dirty word. I saw it in its truest form. I lived with parents who fought constantly. A father who would talk down to my mother, who cheated on her multiple times. A mother who would turn to drugs when she couldn’t cope with the world around her. Who would leave me to constantly fend for myself when I had no idea what the concept of fending for myself even meant? Who would bring home strange men when my father wasn’t home and make obscene noises behind closed doors?”
The look of shock on his face doesn’t go unnoticed. His eyes pass between my face and the joint between my fingers. And when he raises an eyebrow, I snap, “Weed isn’t a drug. I’m talking about harder drugs. The ones that really mess you up. Leave you passed out so close to an overdose that you can’t tell you’re even alive anymore. There’s no coming back from those after your brain is so screwed up.”
“Hey, I’m not saying anything, Mia. I’m just listening,” he defends himself. “So, your parents weren’t in love?”
“Love doesn’t exist, Brooks. It’s a fairy tale people concocted to believe in something more than themselves.”
“That’s not true, Mia. Love exists.”
“Okay then, tell me Mr. I-don’t-talk-about-my-hometown. Did your parents love each other? Did they say I love you as they tucked you into bed every night while reading you a bedtime story?”
He turns away, looking anywhere but at me. “That’s what I thought.”
“Just because they didn’t love, doesn’t mean it’s not possible. I choose to believe it does exist.”
“You keep believing it, Brooks. Maybe someday it’ll come true for you.”
“You never know. One day someone could walk into your life and change your whole world.”
I scoff, which probably isn’t the right thing to do, but I don’t see it ever happening. Life has a funny way of suggesting that love exists. And it certainly hasn’t shown itself to me, so why would I believe the hype? Why would it wait until now to appear? Love, this figment of the imagination.
“So… let’s get back to you never spending the night in the same bed with a woman. How do you feel about trying it tonight? I’ve been dying to try out that big ass bed you got hiding in there. Plus, another thing to tick off the bucket list!”
I stand up and figuratively brush off all the deep talk as if it hadn’t happened. We have a list. A set of goals to get Brooks ready to date and be able to give a woman pleasure. Stick to it. I tell myself. Tonight was way too intimate.
“We’ll be snuggle buddies tonight, but no funny business. Sleeping only. I’ve had a little too much alcohol to participate in full on sex.” I start to walk toward his room and then pause. Looking back over my shoulder I realize he isn’t following me, just staring. “Hey, you coming?”
Chocolate eyes meet mine, and I can see the ebb and flow of each thought. “What’s wrong, big guy?” I walk over and rub his shoulder.
“Nothing at all,” he mutters, but I know it’s a lie. I can’t get a read on him right now, and I hate it. I feel like I’m overthinking this, and I don’t overthink things… He follows me into his bedroom.
“I forgot how big it was.”
“That’s what she said…” I hear Brooks joke from behind me.
“Okay, Mr. Smarty Pants.” He gives me that typical Brooks smile, and I swear to God my panties are like bye y’all.
The rapid beat of my heart threatens to consume me. He walks toward me, placing a big, hot palm to the small of my back and I feel the energy that zips between us. He sweeps his arm toward the bed. “Shall we?”
“We shall.” Where in the hell did Brooks come up with this smooth talk? I stare, confused, and he just grins at me. A whole night snuggling in the same bed with this man may just capsize every single thought I’ve been holding afloat.
Is it hot in here or just me? I feel an arm curl around me, grabbing me and pulling me tighter into him. A leg flops over mine, and I realize that it’s not the covers on me anymore—notes of musk and sandalwood flood my senses.
I peep one eye open, finding myself face to face with one asleep Brooks. My eyes roam over his face. The sun peeking in through the window lights up every corner of his face, and I can’t help but admire him. Eyebrows the same dark brown color as his hair. Strong jawline and a smattering of facial hair that makes him uber sexy. A smile crosses his face but then slips away before his eyebrows scrunch. Letting my eyes trail down, I realize that he doesn’t have a shirt on, and those sexy as hell abs are on complete display for me to openly ogle.
I shut my eyes again and nuzzle in closer to him. Allowing myself a solitary moment while he’s asleep to just enjoy the closeness without all the pressure of him being awake. It’s the first time I haven’t felt truly alone waking up, and for just a few minutes, I want to revel in it. Enjoy the feeling of a warm body against mine. Might as well take advantage of the opportunity that’s unveiled itself to me.
Clearly, it doesn’t matter how big the bed is because our bodies are unconsciously drawn together in this snuggle fest. I’m taking it back to the fact that he’s warm, I’m warm… therefore, we just magnetically stuck to each other to supply heat. Two magnetically charged points finding each other.
I shouldn’t stay here very long. That would definitely give the wrong idea. I’ll give myself just a couple more minutes of snuggles, then I’ll worm my way out of bed and start my morning. Just a couple more minutes. I say it to myself like I’ll really stick to that idea.
Brooks shifts slightly, and all of a sudden, I’m prodded with the world’s most impressive morning wood.
Well, hello there, big boy.
My thighs clench together as I think about what it’s going to feel like once I finally get that bad boy inside of me. I squirm to get a better feel of it pressed against me. If only I could get him to move just slightly, then I could get myself right on top of him. Oomph. I just got stabbed again by his massive rod. I can’t move. His leg is firmly holding me in place, but it doesn’t mean my fingers can’t roam…
But then reality hits me again. I’m not in teacher mode. I’m just in my-lady-bits-need-man-meat mode. Don’t do it, Mia. I scold those lady bits like they have a brain.
Brooks moves and stretches beside me. Eight firm abs mesh up against the warmth of my stomach, and I almost moan at the feel of it but manage to keep my lips sealed. He stretches again but then freezes in place. Deep chocolate eyes open wide and gape at me. A smile crests his lips, exposing straight teeth, and I can’t help the smile my lips automatically form.
“Morning, handsome.” My voice is raspy like I’ve been screaming
his name all night. Maybe in my dreams because he’s been taking those over too these days.
He leans over and presses his lips to my forehead while his hand slides up the curve of my hip. “Good Morning, beautiful pixie.” His voice is deep and gritty with morning breath, it scrapes along my soft skin and a shiver runs through me.
“I don’t understand why you call me that…” I shake my head, hiding my eyes. I don’t want him to see the chaos flaring within them. I should have gotten up and left this bed when he was still asleep. I clear my throat and attempt to move the conversation to something else.
“You have long wavy cotton candy colored hair; plus you’re short and cute, therefore you’re my pixie.”
I peel myself away from his body and feel instantly cold.
Alone.
“Well, judging by the massive rod you’ve been poking with me all morning, I’d say you enjoyed your first time sleeping with a girl…”
“I’ve never slept so well in my life.” His dark brown hair is disheveled in that effortless way that only guys can pull off.
I chuckle. “Your hair is priceless.”
He runs his fingers through a couple strands, and I resist the urge to do the same. “Um, yeah. It always looks like that when I wake up.”
I huff. “Of course it does. God, why do you have to give off this sexy and don’t care look? You’re killing me. All I want to do is jump on your massive cock and ride off into the sunset.”
A rosy hue covers his face, and he makes a show of looking around. “I see zero people stopping you right now.”
“Well, as much as I’d like to just go at it like rabbits. I need a couple minutes to freshen up. Plus, this morning breath thing… not working for me.”
A small nod and I roll out of bed. I run to the bathroom, pee quickly, and brush the gross off my teeth from the previous night. Strolling into his bedroom, I don my teaching outfit as I like to call it. Pulling my hair into a messy bun, I put on my fake reading glasses and another piece of sexy lingerie.
Brooks is spread across the bed when I walk back in. Arms crossed behind his head, puffing his chest out. Cock standing tall and proud like it’s ready for battle. Drool-worthy dimples coming out in full force, and damn, it’s hot. He winks at me and strokes once up and down his boxer covered length.
