by Brooks, Anna
I press my lips together and nod. “Okay.”
“Good?”
Taking a deep breath through my nose, I then nod. “Yeah. Good.”
“Excellent.”
He continues eating, and I pick at the rest of my food because I’m stuffed.
“Is her name really Cat?”
“Yes. I couldn’t think of anything else. But I did spell it with a “K,” so there is that.”
We finish dinner talking about mundane things, and I help him clean everything up. He picks up the fluff ball and puts her in the bathroom then turns back to me with a glint of pure lust in his eyes. Without taking those baby blues off me, he removes his boots and sits on the bed.
“Come here.”
I walk over and sit next to him, thigh tingling from the contact. He turns and pushes my shoulders so I’m on my back and crawls over the top of me. His fingers tangle in my hair for a minute, and he gently pulls out my elastic band and tosses it on the floor. The moment his lips touch mine, a fire warms my belly, and I grab his shoulders to pull him down. I love his strong body pressing into mine. Our grooves aligning effortlessly.
His lips leave mine, and he kisses down my jaw and across my neck. I arch into him and reach down to remove his shirt. Only pulling away long enough to remove it, he returns to my neck and pulls my shirt down to nip at my collarbone.
The pads of his fingers trace every inch of my breasts outside my shirt, and my nipples beg for more attention, more contact, more Brandon.
I sit up to take it off, but he stops me and does it himself. My bra follows, and both of his hands palm my breasts and push them together while his lips and tongue do wicked things that make me squirm and make the fire in my belly swirl. My hips helplessly move to find friction and he stands up to remove the rest of his clothes.
“Do you want this?”
I stare at his hard length, sticking straight out and pointing at me.
He grips it with a strong hand. “I know you want this.” He strokes up and down a few times. “But I mean this,” he motions to his whole body. “Me. All of it. Are you ready for this? Because if you’re not—”
“No!” I shake my head. “I mean yes. I’m ready. I want you. All of you.”
“You sure?”
I bob my head enthusiastically and hair flies in my face. He kneels over the top of me and brushes it away, resting his forehead on mine. “Is that a yes?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
The rest of my clothes are removed, and he crawls back over me and puts his weight on his elbows. I widen my legs and suck in a breath when the tip of his dick rubs against my clit.
“Fuck me,” he whispers. “You’re so damn wet already.” He starts to slide down, but I clamp my knees together.
“No. I don’t want to wait any longer.”
“I’ve gotta get you ready to take me.”
I lift up as much as I can and slide myself along him, showing him just how ready I am. The sleekness of his sensitive skin makes me even wetter, and I glide against him with little effort.
“So good,” he sighs against my lips.
Small beads of sweat form on his forehead and I slam my mouth to his, showing him again how bad I want this, how ready I am.
He kisses me back with the same fury and pulls back panting. I prop myself up on my elbows as he sits up and aligns himself with my opening. He waits until I look at him before pushing in an inch.
Our eyes stay connected, his a force of nature the way the blue darkens. I look between my legs and am entranced by the sight. He pulls out and pushes back in a little farther, and I fall back in pure ecstasy. He’s not even in a quarter of the way in, and I’m already about to come.
“Brandon, please just fuck me.”
I try to raise my hips, but he pushes them back down. I almost cry out of disappointment when he pulls out and lays on top of me.
“I’m not fucking you today.”
My heart drops and tears brim the back of my eyes, confused. Did it not feel good so far? Is he changing his mind?
“I’m making love to you tonight. There will be lots of fucking later. But right now, I’m making love to you, all right?”
God, I love him. “All right.” I kiss his jaw softly, relief lightening my whole body.
He reaches between us and guides himself, then frames my face, and in one thrust, fills me.
Animalistic groans leave both our mouths, and he places his forehead back on mine and keeps good on his word. He makes love to me. Eyes on mine the whole time, he slowly shows me how much he cares. In and out at a ridiculously delicious, slow pace. My legs fall open, and I just feel.
Every single inch of me is floating right now. I’m not even sure my body can handle what’s about to happen. My belly tightens and black spots start to form behind my eyes.
“Brandon,” I whisper, honestly afraid because I’ve never felt like this before. This intense, this all-consuming euphoria, this loved. It’s beautiful.
“I know. It’s okay, baby. Let it happen. I’ve got you.”
I look into his eyes again and throw my head back when he slams into me harder, faster.
He grunts and presses his face into my neck, biting me, as we come undone together. Millions of tiny fireworks explode inside me, from my toes all the way to my teeth. He stays fully seated inside me and collapses. I wrap my arms around him as tight as I can and hold on.
Several minutes pass as we stay in the same position. He finally sits up a little bit and pushes the hair off my face with a finger. “You okay?”
“I don’t know. What was that? I’ve never. I mean, I think I blacked out there for a minute.”
“I know. It was perfect. You’re perfect.”
“That wasn’t me.”
“No. It was us.”
Chapter 13
Brandon
I knew it would be fucking mind blowing. When I told Mary I’ve thought about having sex with her since I first knew what it was, I wasn’t lying. I’ve thought about her legs wrapped around me, dreamed of how tight she would be, fantasized about her calling my name and woken up a sticky mess because even in my dreams, she didn’t escape me.
And now, I lay on top of her, unmoving, because I think she broke me. I’m officially fucked. There was no way I was letting her get away again to begin with, but after that, I want to slap my cuffs around our wrists and keep her attached to me.
“What happened to waiting until I moved in with you?”
Even though my head is on her shoulder, I can hear the smile in her voice.
“I couldn’t wait anymore. And I brought my own comforter so it’s kind of the same thing.”
“You what?” She laughs and pushes me a little.
I rest my forehead on hers and stare into her eyes while I pull out. A silent gasp leaves both our mouths at the loss, and I press a soft kiss to her lips. Kat runs out of the bathroom the second I open the door to grab a washcloth. I clean Mary up, throw the towel on the floor, and crawl under the covers with her.
“I was so surprised that I didn’t even notice the comforter. But I’m glad you did because there are some nasty, nasty things that go on in these rooms.”
“Yeah?” I pull her closer, her back to my front, and wrap her in my arms as tight as I can without hurting her. “Like what?”
“Hmm. Once I walked in on some type of orgy. It was the weirdest thing because they had on masks, so when I opened the door, six superheroes whipped their heads in my direction.” She laughs before continuing. “Since that day, I always make sure to crack the door and yell before I walk all the way in. And another time, I had to clean up some kind of ceremony or ritual thing. There were candles and sand and jewels all over the place. It was such a mess. I could go on forever.”
Here we go again with the small talk. My fault since I started it, but I can’t fucking deal with it anymore. “Mary?”
“Brandon?” She mocks.
“What are we doing?”
; “We’re lying in bed.”
“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”
Her answering silence is so frustrating. The past few months I was beginning to think things were getting better. That she was coming around, but it’s almost like she’s been in a cult or something. Her mind is so set on staying at this motel, and it scares me that she’s never going to leave. Or worse, there’s a different reason why she won’t leave.
“Look at me, babe,” I whisper.
She slowly turns and I prop myself up on an elbow. “You’ve gotta talk to me. Tell me what’s going on inside that head of yours.”
Her throat and lips move, but she doesn’t talk. Only looks into my eyes, unsure.
“Don’t be scared around me. You can tell me anything. I just want to understand.”
She chews on her bottom lip and shakes her head. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“Something. Anything other than ‘I’m not ready.’ Give me a reason. I get that it’s fast. In the big scheme of things, four months isn’t that long.”
Her brows draw together and I can tell a pissed off Mary is about to emerge.
“Exactly. So why are you pushing?”
“I’m not pushing. I try to talk to you, but you don’t answer. You avoid everything. My parents have invited you over at least a dozen times. You practically grew up in their house. I’ve tried to get you to come to my place. How many times have you let me take you out to eat? Three?”
“I go out,” she snaps. “I even went out with Charlotte a couple of times.”
“I know. And that makes me happy. But I’m talking about me. You. Us. How long are we going to do this?” I motion around the room.
“Do what? Live?” She hops off the bed and rummages through the pile of clothes and yanks on her shirt. “This is my life.”
“No, it’s not. It was your life.”
“Oh really,” she scoffs. “And do tell, what is my life now, Mr. King of Every Fucking Thing?”
“Your life is with me. In my bed. Like it should have been for the past twelve fucking years.” I throw the covers off, pull my underwear on, and stand directly in front of her, chest heaving from anger. She is so fucking stubborn. Instead of talking to me so we can figure out how to help her, she shuts down and acts like a bitch.
“No, it’s not. You don’t get to come back and tell me what to do. That’s not how this,” she motions between us, “is going to work.”
“You’re not giving me a choice.”
“Yes, I am. I’m not forcing you to be here. You’re the one who comes back.”
“Because I fucking love you!” I yell. “Because I’ve been a miserable bastard without you. Because every time I come here, I pray to fucking God that maybe it’ll be the day you finally open up.”
She jerks her jeans on and grabs her bra and shoes.
“Don’t throw love in my face, Brandon. You know damn well that I love you, too. Just because you’re back doesn’t mean I should drop everything and be at your beck and call.”
“I’m not saying you should. All I’m saying is you should talk to me so we can move on.”
Her arms open and the items drop to the floor. “What if I don’t want to move on? Huh? You ever think of that? Did it ever sink in through your ginormous skull that I’m fine right where I am?”
Holy Christ. The bullshit falling out of her mouth is so strong I can smell it. “Ahh!” I run my hands over my head and take a deep breath. “Should I have my mom give you the name of one of her co-workers to talk to? Because if you honestly believe you’re fine, you’re delusional.”
She runs over and pushes me. Her hands slap me every time they make contact. “Fuck you, Brandon!” Then she pounds on my chest with closed fists, hair flying all over the place. “I’m not delusional. There’s nothing wrong with me!”
I grab her wrists, pin them to her sides, and lean down so I can see her face. “I didn’t say there was something wrong with you. But, baby, you can’t tell me this is what you want to do with the rest of your life. You wanted to be a teacher.”
“Yeah, when I was twelve. Did it ever occur to you that I don’t know what I want to do because this is all I know?” She pulls out of my grip and wipes her eyes. Fuck me. “Maybe I’m fucking scared. Maybe I’m embarrassed. Maybe I don’t want to give everything to you because once you realize the thrill of the chase is gone you won’t want me anymore. Maybe I’m not the same girl you used to love.”
I try to cut her off, but she glares at me through glossy eyes and holds up her hand. I shut my mouth.
“Or maybe, just maybe, when I say I’m not ready, I actually mean it. You have no idea the things I used to dream about. The thoughts that would run through my head. I’d lay in my crappy room night after night, plugging my ears to keep out the noises—fights in the parking lot, people having sex, police sirens, even gunshots. I’d lay there and pretend I was somewhere else with you. Worried I made the wrong decision. So angry with myself for leaving. Wishing my parents weren’t such wretched, awful human beings.” Her breath shakes as she sucks it in and out between sentences. “I was unbelievably tormented staying away from you. Feeling suffocated in the prison I lived in, even though it was the only place I felt safe. Hating everything about myself and wondering what the point in living anymore was when I had absolutely fucking nothing.”
Tears are rolling down her face, and it makes my chest throb in pain. Her words cut deep and jagged, tearing through my skin and burning my blood.
“I’m here now. You have me. You always have. Let me be there, Mary. Trust me again.”
“I don’t know how. You’re right, though, I am delusional because this is all I know. But I’m not ready.”
“Let me help you. We’ll take it as slow as you need as long as you talk to me. All I want is for you to be happy and us to finally be together. I promise I won’t leave you. We’ll get through it. I’m scared too, Mary. But what we had, and what I still feel, what I know you feel, is worth fighting for. We’re worth fucking fighting for.”
She nods her head takes a couple of deep breaths. “I need you to show me how.”
“I can do that.” I smile and wipe her tears with my thumbs.
“I’ve been too scared to fight,” she whispers.
“You’re not alone anymore. I’ll fight enough for the both of us.”
* * *
I’m lying in the same bed Mary and I made love in a few hours ago, holding her in my arms, staring at the ceiling. After our argument and her concession, we got under the covers for the night. I hated yelling at her, but enough time had passed without her actually talking to me. Fighting for us is nothing new. We used to play pranks on each other and argue all the time before, but it was never as heated as that. She’s never been so upset that she cried or hit me. Her tiny fists didn’t hurt, but her tears broke me.
I run my hands along the curve of her hip, memorizing how soft and smooth her skin feels. I love this woman so fucking much. Since she’s been back in my life, I finally feel like a person again and not an empty shell wandering around aimlessly. I almost forgot what that felt like.
My head bobs and my eyes become heavy, so I give her a lingering kiss on her cheek and rest my head on the pillow. Just as I’m about to fall asleep, my phone rings, and I reach over and grab it out of my jeans before it wakes up Mary.
Kelsey’s name flashes on the caller ID.
“Yeah?”
“Hey, Brandon. Where’s Kat?”
“She’s with me.”
“Oh.”
“Why?”
“Well, I came over to feed her and she wasn’t here.”
What the fuck? “I never told you to feed her.”
“Well . . .” Her throat clears. “You weren’t home and I thought—”
“You thought you’d break into my apartment?”
“I didn’t break in. You gave me a key,” she snaps.
“That’s not the point, Kels.”
Damn. Now I feel like a dick. Occupational hazard—I always think the worst of people since I know what so many are capable of. I’ve been so busy that I never even got a chance to ask her about that morning I found her in my apartment. It was a while ago though, and nothing else has happened, so I chalk it up to me being paranoid.
“Shit. Sorry. I’m staying with Mary tonight.”
“Aw. That’s sweet.”
I mentioned to her that I’ve recently reconnected with Mary.
“So, I’ve got Kat. She’s probably going to stay with me for a while here, but if anything changes, I’ll let you know.”
“Okay. Sounds good.”
I disconnect and lay back down. When Mary stirs, I pull her close again and drift off to sleep.
* * *
Six weeks of living in a motel, and I’m ready to punch something. Preferably walls. Both figuratively and literally. Living in this box makes me feel like I’m in a prison. And the walls Mary’s still got built make me want to break them down now more than ever.
Nothing has changed with Mary except she’s ventured to my parents for supper a few times. I’ve become friendly with Betty and have decided today is the day that I talk to her about Mary’s future in this godforsaken place.
The trash that comes in and out on a daily basis is also at the top of my list of reasons she needs to leave. This is no place for a woman to live on her own. Kat has taken up a permanent residence at Mary’s, and I pretty much use the room next to hers for a closet. I can hear everything as if I were standing outside. She was right when she said she had to cover her ears at night to drown out the noise. Mary’s had to talk me down from arresting people, telling me that if everyone knew I was staying here and busting heads, it would ruin business for Betty.
So instead, I made a few phone calls. Patrols have picked up and fewer hookers residing here than before.
My woman deserves better than this shit hole, but I promised her that I wouldn’t push. So I’m not. She’s living her life almost exactly the same way she was before I came back into it, except now she has me to sleep with. But I’m done. So fucking done with this place. I’m fed up with not sleeping in my own bed and pissed off that Mary is still so closed off.
