by Audra Cole
I scream out and put my face into the comforter to muffle the sound.
Brandon reaches around and plays with my clit while he thrusts inside of me over and over again. My legs start shaking as he gets me to the edge, but I hold back, clawing at the covers as every inch of me seems to be on fire, waiting to release again.
One final thrust and I feel his cock twitch and throb inside me as he fills me. I tighten around him and that’s all it takes to send me into delirium. Brandon finally relaxes against me, resting for a moment before pulling out of me slowly. He gently pulls me off the bed and holds me close, kissing me gently on the mouth.
I swore I was still seeing fireworks in my eyes as I collapsed against his chest, my breath ragged as I finally relaxed all my muscles.
“Holy shit,” I whispered.
Brandon laughs softly. “Come on, let’s take a shower.”
He pulls on me and I follow him to the bathroom. There is a massive stone-walled shower and we step into the automatically hot water. We take our time lathering each other, laughing and talking as we cleaned up. I love the slickness of Brandon’s muscles under my fingers as they trail through the suds. He is so fucking gorgeous that I feel myself getting riled up again, but my body is too spent to fully get turned on again.
After we get out of the shower, Brandon towel dries me gently and tucks me into bed before sliding in on the other side. He instantly gathers me into his arms and kisses the top of my head.
“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he said as he held me close. Before we went to sleep, he toyed with a strand of my hair and breathed in the scent of my shampoo.
Chapter Four
The next month seems to fly by as Brandon and I settle into life together. Dating a movie star is turning out to be a little more complicated than I had originally imagined. For the most part, it’s been amazing, but there have been a few snags along the way.
“Charity? Are you even listening to me?” Brandon asks.
We just hit one of those snags about ten minutes ago….
We were walking back from the grocery store, after picking up some supplies to make dinner, and about halfway to my townhouse Brandon asked—for the third time this week—whether or not I’ve decided to move to California when he goes back to start work on his next movie shoot.
“Yes, I’m listening! But I don’t know what to say. It’s a big decision to make.” I am totally exasperated with the entire conversation.
Brandon doesn’t say anything; when I glance over at him, his jaw is clenched and he won’t look at me. I reach out my free hand to grab his arm. “Please don’t be mad. I just need more time to figure it all out.”
“All I want is for you to talk to me, to tell me what you’re thinking.”
“Okay,” I agree. “After dinner, I promise. We’ll talk. I’ll bust out the pros and cons list and everything.”
He rolls his eyes, but then he smiles and I feel myself relax. He shifts the bags around so that he has a free hand, reaches over and wraps his arm around my waist, and pulls me closer as we finish the walk back to my house.
When we walk through the doors, I am assaulted by reminders of our recent cohabitation. There are at least three pairs of running shoes by the front door—why a person even needs that many pairs of running shoes is beyond me—a laptop and tablet on the coffee table; and a couple old, faded sweatshirts thrown across the back of the couch. And don’t even get me started on the amount of socks littering the floor of my bedroom.
Brandon’s been staying with me for the past few weeks. He recently had a few boxes of clothes shipped up from his home in LA since deciding to extend his stay to be here while his mom undergoes surgery and begins her cancer treatment.
I love having him around, but my townhouse was already pretty full when it was just me, so adding all this extra stuff has caused a bit of an overflow. It’s also very apparent that he’s become quite used to having a maid clean up after him for the past few years.
Fighting the urge to comment on the mess, I shift the topic as we make our way to the kitchen and start unpacking the groceries. “How was your mom doing today?”
His mom had a double mastectomy a couple of weeks ago and she is still recovering. Brandon spends a lot of time at his parents’ house, on the other side of town, to help take care of her.
“She seems to be getting better, stronger. We went for a walk today, just around the neighborhood. I think it took more out of her than she was letting on though,” he answers.
He seems distracted for a moment, but then brightens and adds, “She wants to know when you’re going to come over for a family dinner.” He gives me a smile over his shoulder.
I finish putting away the last of the contents of my reusable shopping bags and go to hang them inside the pantry. I move around Brandon to get to the pantry door but I don’t meet his gaze.
Back in high school, when we were dating, we spent a lot of time at his parents’ house. In college, when we were engaged, we made the trip home to have dinner there every few weeks.
So, rationally, I know that his request is not off the wall, and the fact that his parents want to have me over for dinner is very sweet. I can’t explain it, but there’s something about the whole thing that makes me anxious and…resistant.
“Cherry, what’s going on?” He pauses and grabs my arms, turning me to face him. “You don’t even want to talk about moving to California, and you change the topic anytime I bring it up. Now you’re acting like it’s weird that my parents want you over for dinner.”
I know he’s right. I’ve been acting like a complete nutcase. In my defense, it’s only been a month since he came back into my life, and before that, we spent three years apart. I never imagined I would see him again, let alone considered the possibility that we would fall in love all over again and start a new relationship. The newness makes it all feel very fragile and almost dreamlike.
When we’re alone, just hanging out, everything is good, and it feels comfortable and right. But then I start to think about how things are going to change, and that leads me to overanalyze the details to death, which in turn, causes me to freak out.
It’s exhausting.
“Brandon, I’m sorry. I really am. I know I’m driving you crazy. I’m driving me crazy!” I say. “Things with us are good right now and I guess, in some weird way, I’m afraid that if we change things and start telling everyone we’re back together, and we go around all happy and smiley all the time, that we’ll jinx it somehow. This whole thing is so crazy and out of left field. I know I’m not handling it well, but I am terrified that any second it’ll all fall apart again. And that’s the thing I fear the most. Losing you. Again.”
Brandon takes my face in his hands and tilts my chin up to look him in the eyes. “Cherry, you’re not going to lose me. I’m not going anywhere.”
“How can you know that? I mean, think of all the possibilities! Let’s just say I go to California. You’ll be so busy with your movie that you won’t have much time, and I won’t have anything to do, so I’ll be home alone, and bored. And then, what if you start to resent having to entertain me? Or if I start resenting you for taking me away from my hometown and everyone I know?
“On the other hand, if I don’t go, we’ll say that we won’t break up and that we’ll find a way to make it work long distance, but we both know that eventually we’ll drift apart. It happens all the time, especially in Hollywood! And so, I figure, if we just stay here, and don’t rock the boat, everything will be good and we’ll be okay…” I realize I’m rambling and my voice trails off.
He smiles at me and strokes my cheek. “Baby, you’re overthinking this, big time! I had no idea you were this stressed out about everything. Why didn’t you tell me this sooner? We have to learn to work through it all together. You can’t keep the anxiety and doubt pent up; it’s not good for you and it’s certainly not good for us.”
I wrinkle my nose. Why does he have to go and be
all logical?
He kisses me before continuing. “I want you to come to California because I would miss you too much if you stayed here. And as much as it would kill me if you don’t come live with me, we would find a way to make it work. I promise.”
I nod. I know he truly believes what he’s saying, but I also think that his brain spends a little too much time in “Hollywood dreamland.” He doesn’t always remember that life rarely works out as perfectly as it does in the movies. I’m not saying he’s stupid or simpleminded but, perhaps, a little overly optimistic.
I start to tell him this, but decide against it and just lean into his embrace instead, pressing my face into his warm chest. He smells amazing, and I want to stay like this all day. I don’t know what will happen if I do leave home and go with him to California, but I do know that if I stay here and he goes, I will be completely miserable.
Chapter Five
We make a simple cheese and broccoli casserole and then settle on the couch to eat and watch a movie. We’ve been spending a lot of time indoors and keeping things low-key for the past month. The whole fiasco with Vanessa Blair had been captured on someone’s cellphone camera and went viral. The existing video doesn’t show the actual fight, but there is audio of Vanessa shrieking, and then Brandon breaking it up and a flash that shows him dragging her out of the hotel room. Luckily, the person filming it had followed after Brandon, and hadn’t thought to stick around and film me as I left, so my identity remained a secret. For now…
I set my plate down on the coffee table, pushing a pile of Brandon’s electronic gadgets and cords out of the way, and then snuggle into his lap. He wraps his arms around me and starts kissing my neck. I laugh softly and lean back, giving him a better angle. His hot kisses trail across my collarbone and I close my eyes, giving into the pleasure of his touch. His fingers work to unbutton the front of my sweater and he pushes it down my shoulders as he moves down my collarbone, towards the edge of my lacy bra. I shudder at the tingling sensation that radiates through my body as he lowers his mouth to the soft curve of my breasts as they spill out of the bra.
“Cherry, you are so fucking gorgeous,” he whispers against my breast as he lowers the cup of my bra and takes my nipple into his mouth.
I moan and arch back. Little beads of heat slide down my spine and I feel myself getting wet already. He sucks gently at my nipple and rolls his tongue around the hardened bud. He releases me and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
“Brandon,” I whisper, begging for him to continue.
He takes my moistened nipple and pinches it gently between his thumb and finger. He is gentle, but the surprise sends a flicker of pain through me, and the sensation quickly changes to pleasure.
“Naughty boy,” I tease.
He smiles at me and then slides off of me and onto the floor. He spreads my legs apart and grabs for the waistband of my yoga pants. I smile at him and lift my hips, allowing him to remove the pants. I’m not wearing panties underneath and his smile widens at the sight of my exposed pussy. He tosses the pants aside, and runs his hands back up my legs and rests them on my hips. He pulls and I slide forward, to the edge of the couch. Our eyes are locked and I am panting with desire, dying for him to touch me, to taste me.
He spreads me apart with his thumb and finger, and explores me with his eyes. I have a flash of shyness as the level of exposure, but I shake it off as soon as he lowers his mouth to me. Sparks of fire explode all over my skin as his tongue circles my clit, instantly pushing all thoughts of insecurity out of my head.
I bury my hand into his thick hair and pull gently as he teases and plays with me. The waves of pleasure build as he applies more pressure and gets more focused. He knows just what to do to get me off and he takes his time, loving the game of making me squirm and pant and plead.
Tonight, he seems more intense than usual, and he very quickly brings me to orgasm as he licks and sucks the sensitive bud at the beginning of my slit. After letting me ride the wave of my climax, he kisses my thighs and licks up all of my moistness.
After he finishes he rolls over me and holds me tight against his chest, spooned together on the couch.
I reach around and touch his cock, hard and ready. “What about you?” I ask him.
“Later,” he whispers in my ear. “Right now, I just want you to be happy and relaxed.”
I smile at his sweet words and run my fingers up and down his shaft, somewhat subconsciously. He kisses my neck and shoulder and lets his hands roam over the curve of my hips as we lay together on the couch.
“So, about dinner,” he says in staccato, between soft kisses to the back of my neck, “with my family. Can we do tomorrow night?”
I sit up and out of his arms. “Are you serious?” I cannot believe he is asking me about having dinner with his family, right after just finished eating me out on the couch. Has he lost his mind?
Mood killer.
“What now?” Brandon says, clearly irritated. “What’s wrong?
“I just can’t believe you’re asking me about that, right now, right after that!” I say, gesturing between us.
Brandon rolls his eyes and props himself up. “I’m sorry. Please, tell me when I was supposed to ask? According to the Charity code of conduct.”
“You’re being an ass.” I regret the words as soon as they’re out of my mouth.
He doesn’t say anything but starts to grab stuff and shove it into a gym bag that was sitting by the front door.
“Where are you going?” I ask, wrapping a blanket around my waist.
“I’m going to go back to my parents’ house for the night.”
“Ugh.” I sigh. “So, you’re just going to leave? What about the whole, ‘I’m not going anywhere’ speech?”
He stops gathering his belongings and swirls around to face me. “Apparently it doesn’t matter what I say! If I say it’s going to be fine and that we’ll figure it out, you don’t believe me. I feel like everything I say gets thrown back at me and questioned. I have tried to be patient and understanding because this is all new territory for us, and I knew that it might take some adjusting. But you have to trust me! That’s what we agreed on!”
“I do trust you, Brandon. I trust that you have the best intentions and that you’re trying really hard to make this work, but I don’t think you’re being realistic. You think you can just snap your fingers and everything will rearrange itself to fit your lifestyle. I should reintegrate back into your family, practically overnight, and I should drop everything and move to your fancy house in California. To do what? Become your live-in girlfriend who works her whole life around your career? You have this picture in your head that it would all be so easy and seamless and wonderful. The reality might be a little more complicated than you think.
“We have almost two months until you have to go back, and you told me I’d have all the time and space I needed to make my decision. But you won’t leave it alone! You have to keep asking and asking!”
He pauses for a moment, absorbing my words. “I guess I just didn’t think it would take this long for you to decide! I thought it would be easier than this, that there would be an obvious choice,” he finally says, his voice softer, almost sad.
I stop and take a deep breath, steadying myself, before continuing. “Obviously, I want to be with you. I love you! But when you keep pushing me and questioning me about everything, it makes me feel like you don’t believe me when I say I want to be with you. Like the fact that I am not able to completely overhaul my entire life means that I must not care about you.”
“I know you love me, and I love you too. That’s why I’m trying so hard to build a life with you. To get back what we had before.”
“But you have to remember that up until a month ago, we had nothing to do with each other, and we hadn’t seen each other in three years. No matter how deeply we care about each other, we still need time to figure things out.”
“All right,” he says, setting hi
s bag down. “I won’t bring it up again. I’ll wait for you to tell me when it’s the right time.”
“Thank you,” I say. I hate arguing with Brandon, but at the same time it is a relief to get everything out in the open.
The air is still tense—almost crackling—between us. Neither of us seems to know what to say or do. I pick at the bottom of my shirt, pulling off fuzzies, avoiding eye contact.
It sinks in how ridiculous this whole argument is, and I feel guilty for freaking out in the first place. There has been so much happening in such a short amount of time, and if I’m honest, I haven’t been adjusting to everything as well as I had hoped.
“I’m sorry, about all this,” I start, stepping closer to him. “I don’t want to fight with you.”
“I know, I don’t want to either,” Brandon says. He wraps his arms around me and drops a kiss onto my forehead. “It’s been harder than I thought it would be too. I guess maybe that’s why I’m pushing so hard to make these decisions. I’m hoping things will stabilize.”
He’s probably right.
“I think dinner with your family sounds nice,” I say, only halfway lying. I always loved spending time with his family before, it’s just that so much has happened, and now I feel that it might be a bit awkward. I imagine it will raise all sorts of questions that I don’t have the answers to yet.
“Really?” Brandon asks. He pulls back a little to look at me, skeptically.
I smile, hoping it looks genuine. “Really. Let’s do tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” he says, looking relieved. He kisses me fiercely and I smile, happy to have made him so happy.
“Still thinking about going over there tonight?” I ask, running my hands up his chest and giving him my best pouty lips.
He smiles. “Nah, I think I’ll stay right here.”
I kiss him and run my fingers through his hair.
“Well maybe not right here,” he says, before picking me up and tossing me over his shoulder. I laugh as he starts for the stairs.
