by Harloe Rae
He races to finish the task within ten seconds. The faint noise of wood scraping against tile accompanies his efforts. With potholders handy, I place the steaming food on the table. Braelyn finds a corkscrew and opens the wine. The makings of a well-oiled machine are underway.
Ollie abandons his usual seat next to me, dashing to the chair on the opposite end. “Miss Braelyn?”
His voice is way too innocent. I brace myself for whatever scheme he’s whipping up. He jabs a finger at the empty spot beside me. The chair has been pushed very close to mine, as in almost touching. That’s not suspicious.
“You can sit by my daddy.” His hands are folded in that innocent way he tries to pull off. I know better. This is a battle I’ll never win.
I pat the seat. “I’ll try to give you space.”
My son squeaks, the tone one of outrage. “What? No. Sit on his lap.”
“Oliver James,” I warn.
He presses his lips together, having the decency to look guilty. “Sorry. Just thought it’d be easier for talking.”
I snort and roll my eyes. “Yeah, sure. Eat your dinner.”
“It’s all right. I don’t mind close quarters. Is footsie allowed?” Braelyn laughs while wedging herself in. “There’s not a lot of legroom.”
Ollie tilts his head at us. “What’s that mean?”
“Never mind,” I mutter. Braelyn gets a squeeze to her knee for that.
She yelps and shoves my fingers away. “Oh my goodness, this looks fantastic. Tater tot hotdish?”
I nod and serve her a double portion. “Yep. It’s a staple around our house. I’d tell you it’s a family recipe, but that’d be a lie. My mother never cooked a day in her life. I highly doubt my grandmother did either.”
Braelyn smacks her lips. “This was one of my favorite meals growing up. My day was made when a restaurant had it on the menu. What a great surprise.”
She takes a big bite, moaning around her fork. The sound is filthy and shoots a potent dose of arousal into my veins.
“Really?” I make a point of staring at the bulge in my pants.
Her face turns the same shade as our cherry red napkins. “I can’t help it. This is really good.”
“You better repeat that while I’m buried deep later,” I murmur into her ear.
There’s a hitch in her breath, but she recovers quickly enough. Braelyn’s toes climb up my shin. “Even louder.”
I choke on a ball of lust. “Dirty girl.”
“Just wait,” she whispers.
“Is it working?” Ollie’s question is equivalent to a bucket of cold water.
I wrench my gaze off the temptation next to me. “What’s that, buddy?”
“Are you two getting married? Then Miss Braelyn can live with us?”
Braelyn gulps audibly. I steeple two fingers in front of my mouth. Ollie watches us for any sudden movements, like a sprint to the chapel.
“Ollie,” I start.
His shoulders slump. “Okay, I know. Forget I asked.”
A seed of guilt sprouts and grows roots in my stomach. “How about cookies for dessert?”
That perks up his posture. “Yes! Chocolate chip?”
I scoff. “Of course. Is there another kind?”
“Nope.” He adds extra pop to the word.
Braelyn giggles. “You two are adorable. I could listen to this all night.”
Ollie rests his elbows on the table. “Really? Wanna stay longer?”
She taps her lips. “Maybe. What will we do?”
“We can play cards. Or a board game. I have Candy Land.” His voice raises higher with each suggestion.
“That could be fun,” Braelyn muses.
I find myself digging the hole a bit deeper. “How about a movie? Ollie can choose.”
He pumps a fist in the air. Braelyn winks at me. I’ve made the right call.
Ollie scoots off his chair, dashing toward the television. “There’s a new cartoon we can rent. It’s about puppies and horses and zoo animals. Right, Daddy? We saw a commercial yesterday.”
“Slow down, buddy. Braelyn hasn’t agreed yet.”
She nudges me. “As if I’ll say no.” She dips her chin and tilts closer. “To either of you.”
The desire to kiss her slams into me. I barely find the control to restrain myself. Would it be so bad? I stare into her eyes, the bright green swirling with tender passion. Instead of demolishing that boundary, I slide my palm along hers. I link our fingers together and give a gentle squeeze.
“Should we make popcorn?”
Her laugh is silent, just a soft bounce of her upper half. She’s captivating.
“Yes.” With one syllable, she solves a slew of problems.
“Do you like butter and salt?”
“Mm-hmm, I’m always on board for flavorful goodness.”
I press my lips to the crown of her head. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
The three of us pile on the couch. Ollie doesn’t fight us on being plopped in the middle. He snuggles between us with a huge smile. I could get used to this. The thought is dangerous and should have me running for the mountains. My ass remains firmly planted on the couch.
I pass the popcorn bowl to Braelyn, the move natural and effortless. Nothing about this situation should be comfortable. But I can’t dredge up the effort to pretend otherwise. Regret hasn’t sunk in yet. I’ll worry about clearing up our disintegrating lines tomorrow.
Braelyn
Stars
The final scene of the movie fades to black. My inner child claps with glee. It’s been years since I’ve watched a cartoon. And I couldn’t have asked for better company.
When the credits begin rolling, I attempt to shift my arm. Shooting pain stabs into my muscle. A wild fire spreads from that inch of movement, and I swallow a moan. Dammit, that hurts.
Ollie is snoring on my shoulder. I don’t have the heart to move him, but my limb is dead asleep. Something has to give.
I look up and find Brance’s gaze locked on me. My belly flip-flops at the desire I find reflecting in his blue pools. With a nod at his son, I send a telepathic message for rescue. He smirks, dimples denting his scruffy cheeks. That earns him a scowl.
I burrow deeper into the couch. It’s apparent my knight isn’t in the saving mood. I let my lashes flutter shut. A muttered curse from my right follows shortly after. I peek one eyelid open and watch him spit out a few more expletives.
“What?” My voice is barely a whisper.
Brance stares at us silently for a few more beats. His gaze travels slowly, as if committing this moment to memory. Those blue depths are alight with something I can’t decipher. A real smile curves his lips, followed by a heavy sigh. He stands and scoops Ollie up with practiced efficiency.
Once the weight has been removed from me, sharp tingles attack my left side with gusto. I’m quick to rub feeling into my arm. When the burning sensation subsides, I flop against the cushions with a whoosh. Having that kiddo sleep on me was totally worth it. I’d take that type of numbness any day.
Brance is back a minute later, hovering in front of me. “Need a lift?”
“Where to?” I walk my toes up his denim-clad leg.
My skirt shifts when I scoot closer to the edge. Brance takes advantage, shoving the material up higher. My pink panties are on full display. His finger gently traces the lace trim. My core coils from the hunger in his expression.
“My bed. Now.” The grisly tone seems edgy, impatient. Opposite of his touch against my center.
I peer up through hooded lashes. “We’re gonna test your springs?”
“There’s a first for everything, babe.”
“Yes.” I grant permission, but we know it’s not needed.
These late-night hookups are our dirty secret. I’m not the least bit ashamed to admit how much that turns me on.
Brance hauls me into him with a growl. I arch my spine and purr. He hoists me up with zero effort, cupping my ass in his big palms. I cross my
ankles against his lower back. With a spin on his heel, Brance strides across the hardwood floor. I grip the muscular rocks of his shoulders and hold on for the ride.
It feels like we’re flying. I’m pretty sure he’s clearing three stairs at a time. The same urgency courses through my veins. His grasp on me is firm. I’m not going anywhere. A door swings open, and we’re cloaked in darkness. Brance pauses for half a second to flip a switch. He turns and deposits me on the mattress with a light toss.
I crawl backward until my head bumps against a pillow. He reaches behind him and strips off his shirt with one smooth move. I’m antsy, rubbing my thighs together before spreading them apart. Brance undoes his jeans and shoves them down. He stands before me in a black pair of briefs, tenting in the front with his desire.
For me.
I prop myself up and lick my lips. With a curl to my fingers, I beckon him to me.
Brance strokes himself through his shorts. Such a damn tease. “Take off anything you don’t want ripped into shreds.”
A shiver skates over me with his filthy promise. I slowly remove my tank, throwing the cotton top at his bare chest. Brance catches it and brings the material to his nose. His gaze burns a hundred degrees hotter. I’m sure scorching heat shimmers in mine. The flouncy fabric of my skirt slinks down my legs. With a flick, my bra is tossed on the floor. I leave my panties firmly in place.
Brance’s eyes flare with blue flames. He bends forward and reaches for me. The flimsy elastic is no match for his brute strength, snapping with one jerk. The torn satin gets balled in a fist and tossed aside. I drift a palm across my naked breasts and bare torso. My touch wanders lower and a loud rumble rises from Brance.
He makes a circular motion with his finger. “On your elbows and knees.”
I follow his command instantly, flipping onto my stomach. The bed dips with his weight as he settles behind me. He grips my hips and angles me higher. I proudly stick my ass out, which earns me a light slap. My legs tremble as I wait. Brance swipes along my core, finding me slippery and wanting.
“Always wet for me. Such a needy girl.”
I’m nodding fast. “I’m ready for you.”
I feel his cock at my entrance, barely a whisper. My hips automatically wiggle back. I push further into him, seeking more.
Brance runs a hand over my lower back and ass. “You’re eager.”
I bow into his touch. “Yes, please.”
He groans. “Love you begging for my cock.”
“Make me feel good.”
“Don’t I always?”
I open my mouth with another plea. Brance lines up and slams into me. A burst of color blooms in my vision. I claw at the sheets and tumble under his spell.
Holy shit.
Brance’s hips grind against me, forcing us closer. There’s not a sliver of space separating our bodies. I swallow the saliva pooling in my mouth. He drags out and pushes in, paradise spreading through my center. I’m soaking in rainbows and sunshine on a tropical beach. It’s like our first round each time. I’ll never tire of this euphoric sensation. That’s a scary thought. But not one that fits in this moment.
His forceful thrusts shove me forward. The unforgiving grip on my sides yanks me right back. This tug of war makes me dizzy, my mind spinning in useless loops. I clench around him for more. Brance moves faster, his strokes punishing.
“You like this?” His panting breath accompanies the slapping of skin.
“Love it,” I moan. “Harder, please.”
His fingers trail along my waist and lower belly. He finds my clit, strumming with rapid circles. My inner muscles quiver while molten lava spreads through me. I curl my toes into the blanket, reaching for leverage.
“A-almost there,” I wheeze.
Rather than propel me over the edge, Brance pulls out. The loss of him is an instant blow to my impending orgasm. I whine low and glance over my shoulder. His focus is locked between my legs. Brance bites his lip, spreading my cheeks with a thumb on each side. His touch skims from ass to cleft. The slow slide makes me squirm.
He lets loose a long groan. “You’re so fucking sexy.”
“Stop teasing me.” I squirm in his hold.
I get a spank to my thigh for that.
“Roll over. I wanna watch you come.”
Before he can blink, I flip and stretch myself wide. Brance fills me to the hilt with a single drive. He drops on top of me, balancing his weight on a bent forearm. Our mouths fuse together, tongues meeting in the middle. I inhale his want, giving him my desire in return. When he stabs deep, I gasp into our kiss.
He breaks away from my lips with a snarl. Lust colors his naughty smirk. I scratch along the flexing muscles in his back. Our bodies pound together in a fevered pitch.
Brance licks a path down my tilted jaw. I arch into him, my soft breasts pressing into his hard pecs. Brance buries his face into the dip between my shoulder and neck. I hear him breathe me in, trembling when he nips along my ticklish flesh.
He rolls his hips, crashing into mine. We’re a fluid wave gaining momentum. “Is this what you want?”
I press my lips to his throat. “Yes. So much.”
Brance draws my earlobe between his teeth. “More?”
“Is that even a question?” My wispy tone dances across his cheek.
He punches into me with a new level of vigor. I raise my pelvis and meet his rough jabs. His movements become sloppy, bucking into me with jerky glides. I can tell he’s straddling the line with me. I dig my heels into his ass, slamming us harder together. He tweaks my nipple, pinching the stiff peak. That bite of pain is enough to hurdle me into oblivion.
“O-oh, t-there! M-more,” I squeal.
After one final push, Brance’s body tenses and spills into mine. The room fills with our shared pleasure. I shatter into a million sparkling pieces. Shooting into the sky among the stars.
He twitches with the last of his release, collapsing onto the bed beside me.
“Best yet,” he murmurs to the ceiling.
A soft smile lifts my lips. “I agree.”
“Damn glad you came over.”
“Mm-hmm, this is another spot to check off our list.”
Brance chuckles. “Seems odd considering it’s my house.”
There’s not much I can say to that. I burrow into the pillow with a heavy exhale. He crosses his arms behind his head, settling in for the night. A soothing silence envelops us. With every touch, he erases more empty space. These days, the hole in my chest is nothing more than a shallow divot.
When the floating sensation subsides, I sigh and struggle to sit up. I shuffle to the end of the mattress. My bare feet hit the cold floor, and a chilling spike snakes through me. I bend over, gathering my discarded clothes. Brance is quiet behind me, which I’ve come to expect. A quick peek over my shoulder tells me he’s drifting off. I tug on my shirt, turning away from his shuttered stare. The bed dips with his shifting movement. I glance at him again, finding him leaning forward.
Brance reaches for me, but stops before touching my skin. “Brae—”
I shrug off the placating tone of his voice. “Don’t worry, I know the score. This doesn’t mean anything.”
Protecting my heart is becoming a greater challenge lately. I seal my lips and gulp the romantic notions down like a bitter pill. Those words have no meaning in this space.
His grunt is a dull echo. “What if you, uh, don’t leave.”
The uncertainty wafting off him has me twisting around. Brance’s eyes are boring into me. His expression is stern and serious.
“What?” I need him to repeat that.
“Maybe you stay with me tonight.”
I gape at him. “I don’t get it.”
Brance frowns. “Did I stutter?”
My jaw is still popped open. “Let me get this straight. You,” I point at him, “want me to sleep here.”
He nods. I blink at him with a blank expression.
“In this bed? With you?”
/>
Brance scrubs over his mouth. “Why is that so crazy? It’s just an idea. I hate that you run out immediately after we finish. No matter where we are.”
I quirk an eyebrow. “Does it make you feel cheap?”
That earns me a laugh. “Yeah, something like that. Are you just using me, Braelyn?”
I wrinkle my nose. “Are you?”
He strokes a thumb down my arm. “I’m the one asking you to stick around.”
“What about Ollie?”
Brance seems to ponder that. He waves it away a second later. “Adults can have slumber parties.”
I chew on my bottom lip. I’d hate for Ollie to find me here. The assumptions he’d make wouldn’t be stellar. In his opinion, we’d be one step closer to being a happy family. I shake that possibility off my mind. What’d be worse is having a panic attack in the middle of the night.
I give Brance a truth. “I don’t sleep well.”
He glances at the darkened window. “Me neither.”
“Even more reason for me to leave,” I murmur.
“How bad is it?” His question is a whisper.
I swallow thickly. “The nightmares are brutal. I usually wake up screaming.”
“When did you have the last one?”
I scratch my temple, having to think about it. “Two months ago, maybe?”
Brance locks me in a gaze I can’t escape. “Let’s try it. If something happens or you’re not comfortable, feel free to leave.”
My resolve crumbles into a pile of dust. I’ll worry about what this means tomorrow. Consequences be damned. “Okay.”
His features brighten. “Yeah?”
I giggle. “Your reaction alone is solidifying my decision.”
“C’mere, babe.” He opens his arms. “Let me hold you.”
Brance lifts the covers, and we snuggle underneath. I slide toward him, resting my head on his chest. That shallow divot shrinks a tad more. I let his steady heartbeat settle my lingering doubt. Not five minutes later, my lids are getting heavy.
In his protective embrace, I fall into a peaceful sleep.
Brance
Remix
I finish adjusting my tie in the hallway mirror. After smoothing the silk flat against my shirt, I stride into the kitchen. The sun is barely over the horizon, and my routine is already off-kilter. But that doesn’t bother me the way it usually does. Probably due to waking up with Braelyn’s ass snuggling my morning wood. She blinked her lazy eyelids open long enough to straddle my lap for a quick fuck. That woman could give any rodeo queen a run for her bonus check. Two orgasms later, Braelyn toppled into the mound of pillows with a blissed-out sigh. She was snoring before I made it into the shower.
