The Need Boxset

by K. I. Lynn

  That’s over and done with.

  I made it so.

  But he keeps bouncing back, chipping away at my resolve, telling me he loves me.

  And I see the change, I do, but it doesn’t matter. It’s been so long I don’t know how easy it will be to change the dynamic of our relationship or how I think about him. Especially since he’s resolved to make me fall in love with him.

  We pull into the parking lot, where he finds a spot near the entrance and we walk in.

  As we step onto the escalator to the showroom, he turns and smiles at me. “How’s it feel to be done with high school?”

  I shrug. “Good, I guess.”

  “Are you excited for OSU?”

  My gaze narrows on him. “Why so interested?”

  The smile drops from his lips and eyes, revealing that beaten, hollow look I’ve seen a few times since he came back. He turns from me to get off the escalator and walks off, forcing me to jog to make up his lead.

  I mash my teeth together as we pass by the first few displays to stop myself from reaching out and asking if he’s okay. To comfort him.

  That’s not how we are anymore. I don’t care for him the same way. I can’t. Sure, my body still reacts to his, but that’s it.

  An awkward silence surrounds us as we walk, then suddenly, he falls from my peripheral. My head snaps over in time to watch him land onto a couch. He frowns, then stands and moves to the one behind it. By the fourth couch, I’m next to him, arms crossed and brow raised.

  “What are you doing?”

  “What’s it look like?” he asks, then reaches for my arm, pulling me down next to him. “What do you think of this one?”

  I bounce on it to form some opinion for him, my head moving back and forth. “It’s okay. A little hard.”

  “Yeah, I agree. Next.”

  We move to the adjacent row, and I barely sit down before I’m back on my feet.

  “Hell no, unless you want to sit on a rock.”

  There are probably over thirty couches and by the time I’m halfway through, I’ve lost him. After standing, I look around and spot him a row away and up. As I get closer, I have to shove my nails into my palm.

  His long body is stretched out, arms crossed over his chest, and eyes closed.

  “Hey.” I bump his elbow with my knee. “What are you doing?”

  One eye pops open. “Nap test.”

  I quirk a brow. “Nap test?”

  “Yeah, come on down.”

  He grabs hold of my wrist and tugs, making me fall on top of him. I let out a surprised squeak as his other hand flips my legs onto him as well like they weigh nothing.

  “What are you doing?”

  “You’ve got to try it out. Let me know what you think.”

  “Idiot, I think I’m not going to get a good idea about the couch if I’m on you.”

  Get off.

  Get the fuck off.

  Get off his motherfucking perfect chest and the bulge growing in his pants.

  My body is unwilling to listen to the signal my brain is sending. It’s getting as wet as a bitch in heat and ready to make a scene.

  Especially after his stunt in the shower. He made so much noise all I could think about was him tugging on that beast of a cock he’s got with enough strength to jack off a rhino.

  Bastard.

  I manage to push against his chest and slap his stomach. “Sit right, jerk.”

  The corner of his mouth draws into a half smile.

  And I remember.

  Back before he knew I liked him, before he kissed me.

  The names. The teasing.

  Once he’s upright I fall down on the cushion, using it to cover the emotions from his stupid face that are forcing themselves on me.

  When I look up, Brayden’s eyes are heavy lidded. He’s rubbing his fingers across his lips, an action that brings back memories I’ve tried to forget. Those lips eating me out on my birthday . . . and that night in the restaurant bathroom . . . on his bed.

  He steps away, moving to one of the stations set up with maps and pencils.

  “This one,” he says as he writes down the information from the tag.

  Once he’s done, he holds out his hand and pulls me up.

  “Are you buying it?”

  He nods and starts walking away, his hand seeming to reluctantly release mine.

  We make our way through accent tables and chairs where he writes down another number from some plain square end tables in red. I don’t know what he’s doing, so I just walk with him, looking at everything and making a mental checklist of possibilities for my dorm room.

  The kitchen setups have changed since the last time I was in, and I fall behind. By the time I catch up, he’s almost to the dining room displays. I stay behind him, trying to keep my distance, to keep the itch down, when he begins to meander through the tables, pushing on them as he passes.

  My brow knits as I walk over to him.

  “What are you doing?”

  He blinks at me, then puts his hand on my hip, moving me until I’m in front of him. Before I can ask again, he lifts me onto the table and steps between my thighs.

  “B-Brayden?”

  His lips twitch into a smirk, and I swear my pussy starts gushing. The way we’re positioned is so sexual, the urge to link my legs around his waist and pull him closer is impossible to resist.

  He looks around before leaning forward, resting a hand beside me, the other on my hip as he rocks into me. His breath is harsh and I grab onto his shirt, but I don’t know whether it’s to push him away or pull him closer.

  “Have to make sure it’s a stable surface.”

  “For what?” I stare into his eyes. They’re dark and alluring—hypnotic.

  His lips ghost mine, threatening to touch. Threatening to melt me.

  “To fuck you on.”

  The heat of his body, his scent, and his words are a perfect symphony of torture. My thighs squeeze his hips, drawing him closer. I need to feel the hard cock he’s keeping from me.

  I want him to do what he says. It’s the perfect height, and I want him to fuck me on it.

  He clears his throat and steps back, licking his lips as my hands loosen their grip.

  A small whimper leaves me, the tension in my muscles falling away, making me weak.

  What the hell is going on?

  I’m turned still on from his teasing me in the shower, that’s what. He’s using it to his advantage.

  I hop down, refusing to look at him as he writes down the table’s, information.

  “Don’t you have a table? Why are you buying all this stuff?”

  He glances at me, then away. There’s something he’s hiding from me. I know his tells.

  “For my new apartment,” he says, clearing his throat again.

  “You’re not keeping the old one?” With Ryan gone, I just assumed Brayden would get a new roommate.

  Walking back to the pathway, he turns back to me. “No. We sold everything.”

  “Everything?”

  He nods. “The furniture. It was too much to move.”

  I catch up to him and grab onto his arm, stopping him. “Why didn’t you put it in storage, then? That’s cheaper than buying all new.” What is he hiding from me?

  He looks at me, then away, and back again. “I’m not going back to Purdue.”

  I stare at him, then shake my head. “What?”

  “I guess now’s as good of a time as any.” He pumps his fist in the air. “Go Buckeyes.”

  My mouth drops open, the blood that he’d forced into my face falling back into my body. “You transferred?” My voice is barely a whisper.

  Oh, God.

  No.

  No.

  He can’t.

  He nods, his fingers brushing a lock of hair behind my ear. “I can’t be without you anymore.”

  My face scrunches up, and I swat his hand away. “You did fine for the last three years.”

  I swallow back the
scream that wants to explode. There’s no way I can handle him being on the same campus as me. Not when he can make me want him inside me with just a look. He’s wrecked me, and I was finally going to have a chance to change things.

  He shakes his head. “No, I was a mess.” His voice is just above a whisper, the look in his eyes tears at me. “I’ve always been a mess without you.”

  I blink back tears. “I don’t believe you.”

  His lips form a hard line, and he nods. “I’m working on that.” He attempts to smile, but gives up. “Come on.”

  I follow behind him, my emotions all over the place. After all this time, after every way he’s broken me, how can he make me feel like this?

  My bottom lip is trapped between my teeth as we go. Walking behind him, I can see the way his muscles flex. He bypasses all the bedroom furniture setups, walking right up to the dressers, wasting no time in writing down the information.

  Then it’s the beds. He sits on each one, lays on a few, and I find myself mimicking him again, just like at the couches.

  After about five bounces, I find a good one and lay down. It’s soft, but still firm, and makes me want to find a blanket and curl up. I need a nap after the emotional and physical roller coaster that is Brayden.

  I’m not alone for long. Brayden climbs up next to me, both on our side, staring at each other.

  “Do you have a costume for this weekend?” he asks.

  “Yeah."

  “What are you going to wear?”

  I can barely think, still stunned. “Not telling.”

  “I’ll just have to wait and see then.”

  “You’re going?”

  Of course he’s going—it’s at Jenn’s house.

  “Only because you’re going to be there.” He sits up from the bed and writes down the number.

  After stuffing his list in his back pocket, he holds out his hand to help me up. I stare at it for a moment, then up at him.

  “Why are you doing all of this?”

  That sad smile forms on his face again. “You know why.” He reaches out and strokes his fingers against my cheek, sending a shiver through me. “I love you, and I’m doing everything I can to make you see it. To see how much I can’t live without you.”

  Right now, I hate the reaction I have to his words. I want to jump him, kiss him, be with him, but I also hate him.

  I’m lost, unsure what to do with the war raging inside me.

  June 13th, 2015

  “I love you, and I’m doing everything I can to make you see it. To see how much I can’t live without you.”

  He can’t live without me. Yeah-fucking-right. After years of doing such a great job at it, he expects me to believe that now.

  And he did do a great job. We all know that.

  Brayden says he was miserable while we were separated.

  I honestly wish I could believe that.

  But I don’t. I never will. So whatever he has to say doesn’t matter.

  Speaking of the devil himself, my text notification tone rings out.

  Let me see your costume.

  I stare at said costume laid out on my bed and swallow.

  It’s provocative. Beyond sexy. I know that. I knew that when I picked it. No, I hadn’t known Brayden would be at the party the day I bought the costume, but now I know he will.

  He’s going to see me in it.

  Damn it. I’m so fucking horny. I’ve been like this forever.

  Thinking about his reaction the moment he sees me in my costume shouldn’t turn me on more.

  It does.

  Fuck, I need him.

  I can’t have him.

  This shit has to end already.

  I don’t want to show you my costume. As a matter of fact, I don’t want you at the party at all.

  It crosses my mind that I should put my phone down before he responds and I’m tempted to continue interacting with him.

  Too late.

  I’ll let you see a peek of mine if you show me a peek of yours, baby.

  I’m smart enough to drop the phone on the bed. I know what’s coming through next—a picture.

  Not smart enough to stop myself from wondering what his costume could possibly be. Knowing him, he’ll look devastating in it.

  My mouth waters.

  My pussy pounds.

  God, what the fuck? I’m even more out of control than usual. It’s a good thing he’s in Columbus right now.

  I fucked myself earlier in the shower. The same shower he jerked off in days ago. Up against the wet tiles, I rode my fingers until I had no choice but to scream out.

  I despise the fact that it was his name I yelled out.

  Thank God the house was empty.

  My phone vibrates on my bed. I try to ignore it, stripping out of my clothes so I can start changing.

  But getting naked only makes it worse. Nowadays, I can’t take off a single stitch of clothing without immediately imagining his hands on me.

  Son of a bitch.

  I grab my phone off my bed, frustrated that I’m such a slave to my impulses.

  No stopping this. I tell myself I won’t do more than look. I won’t respond, it’ll be just this.

  It’s a picture of his lower abs. That motherfucking V. He’s wearing light jeans, unbuttoned, and his hand is holding them open to better show off his abs.

  The leather cuff is on his wrist, but it doesn’t matter. I know what’s beneath it now.

  Want. Christ, how am I supposed to get fucking past this level of desire?

  He enrages me to no end.

  My legs weak, I walk over to my bed. I can’t even think of putting on my costume. I want to send him a picture, tease him back, but I can’t do that either.

  The beat of my heart is so powerful through my body that it worries me. Want. Want. Want.

  I sit on my bed, shaking.

  My inner walls throb, my clit aching, in desperate need of attention.

  I want his tongue all over my clit again, his lips sucking on it hard.

  What’s wrong with me today? Why is it worse than before?

  But I know why. This madness has been building for weeks.

  No, lies. This has been building for years.

  How am I going to resist him tonight of all nights when the insanity is stronger than ever?

  Trembling, miserable, I pick up my phone. I can barely even type. Don’t come to the party tonight. Please.

  There’s no waiting for his response. This pain has turned me into an animal. There’s only one thought. I need to come again, and my fingers won’t be enough this time.

  I reach under my bed and pull out the case I bought to keep my vibrator in. I purchased it weeks ago, needing something thicker than my fingers to fuck myself with.

  Because I can’t stop wanting Brayden’s thick cock pounding inside me.

  My phone vibrates on my bed; I continue to ignore it, leaning back, spreading my trembling thighs.

  My pussy lips are swollen and wet enough that I feel them slowly part with the movement.

  Another notification from my phone.

  I play with my hard nipple, pinching it, and slide the head of my silicone dildo across my clit.

  My head falls back and my hips arch, my body hungry for that length inside me.

  I slide it up and down, letting my juices cover it.

  My phone starts ringing.

  A small moan leaves me, and my pussy ripples. I know who it is without looking. I can almost feel him on the other line.

  Always feeling him. Always sensing him.

  God, I want him.

  I know where this is heading as I reach for my phone—don’t care. Fucking him is impossible. Having phone sex with him will only make things worse in the long run.

  My thumb swipes across the screen and I accept the call. At the same time, I turn the vibrator on, pressing it back to my clit.

  “Kira—” Brayden’s sharp intake of breath tells me he picked up on the sound of my vibra
tor.

  Just the sound of that breath makes goose bumps break out all over me.

  “Tell me to come over,” he demands in a hoarse voice.

  I moan. “No. This is all you’re getting.” The sound of my own voice surprises me.

  “Oh really?” An utterly masculine chuckle leaves him. I can hear the cockiness in it, and I want to be mad at him for it.

  Instead, all I want to do is ride his fucking beautiful face. Come all over his gorgeous lips.

  Cover him in my scent so that if any other girl tries to go near his mouth, she’ll know he’s taken.

  “This is all I’m getting? Huh, Kira?” He purposely moans my name, drawing the sound out. “Is that why you’re fucking yourself with that little bullet vibrator while imagining it’s me?”

  His voice. Lord help me, I’m hooked.

  “It’s not a bullet.” I slide the tip inside me, slowly, letting myself feel how it parts me open.

  Brayden falls silent, breathing harshly in my ear.

  I slip the vibrator in deeper.

  “Kira, are you . . . are you fucking yourself with a dildo right now?”

  I bite my lip, but it’s not enough to hold back my whimper. “Yes.”

  The sound he makes is indescribable. I don’t know if it’s a grunt or a growl, or maybe an angry combination of both. All I know is that he’s not pleased.

  “Why?” I ask. “Jealous?”

  “How big is it?” he grits out.

  Still biting my lip, I let out a little giggle and rock against the head my dildo, teasing myself. “Almost as big as you.”

  That sound again. Rough. Horny. Aggravated.

  “What?” I moan out the word purposely, pushing the vibrator halfway in. “You don’t like knowing I’m fucking myself?”

  He hums; another frustration-filled sound. “My dick is the only dick that belongs inside you.”

  That statement shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does, but it’s too fucking delicious to resist. His dick. My dick. The only one with the right to pound into me. The only cock to spurt in me.

  I love that thought. I really, really do.

  Not that I’ll admit that to him. “That’s your opinion. I . . . ” My breath catches as the dildo slips fully in me and my hand presses into my clit.

  “You what, Kira?” His breath races, faster, louder.

  Closing my eyes, I let myself get lost in the visual of him thrusting into his fist while he hears me fucking myself. “I beg to differ,” I whisper, lost in sensation.