Closer: A Blind Date Bad Boy Romance
Page 5
Suddenly, a deep, warm voice interrupts.
“Janie?”
My eyelids flash open and I find myself looking up at Brent, standing in the courtyard. “I thought that was you in the class. I tried to find you after, but you ran way.” He looks impossibly gorgeous. His leather jacket is off, slung over one shoulder, a blue shirt that matches his eyes stretches flatteringly across his incredible torso. Actual fucking cherry blossoms fall down on him in the breeze, making him seem like the hero in a romance novel. The image is too ridiculously dreamy. I have to get out of here. I try to stand up but as soon as I place any weight on my feet I know that’s a bad idea - my knees have turned to jelly. I sit back down, closing my eyes in frustration.
“What happened to being a purist?” I try to joke. “You know, starting school in the middle of the semester? Something bad might happen.” He smiles, knowing he’s being teased.
“It’s the GI bill. The longer I wait the harder it will be for me to actually do it. I know myself. I’m not the school type. If I don’t start now, I’ll never do it.”
“Okay. Funny you turned up in my class, of all places.”
He shrugs awkwardly.
“I promise I’m not stalking you. I’m taking it as a free elective. I didn’t know you’d be there.”
I nod, not knowing what to say. Brent clears his throat.
“I, um, wanted to say sorry for storming out on you the other night,” he says carefully. How can he sound so genuine, so sweet, when what he's done has caused me nothing but heartbreak the last couple of days? I shrug, hoping it looks casual.
“Don’t worry, I understand,” are my words. His eyes widen and he takes a step closer.
“You do?” he asks.
“Of course,” I say, gathering my strength and managing to stand now. “You were meant to go out with Amy. It’s only normal, even if we did that in the movie theater.” A split second passes where we just stare at each other, then I start walking back to the quad. But I have to go past him to get there.
“You know about that?” Brent demands, grabbing my arm.
“That you texted Amy? Of course,” I say, smiling now and praying it looks fancy-free, and not bitter. “We do live together.” Brent looks crestfallen, as if this is genuinely the first time he thought of the possibility of Amy and I discussing him. I try to leave, but he won’t let go of my arm.
The touch of his skin on mine is electric, and as he pulls me gently towards him, he looks in my eyes with that same expression that kills me. I couldn't put my finger on what it was then, and I still can’t. Even though it’s familiar, like the etching of an old image into your mind from your childhood, I still can’t place it. But deep down, it feels like home. My throat is dry and I can’t speak, instead staring back like a dummy. His handsome face is intense, that mouth a straight line. There’s so much there he’d like to say to me, but somehow he can’t. His grip on my arm intensifies.
“Brent, you're hurting me,” I whisper without breaking our gaze. He lets go immediately.
“I’m so sorry. That’s the last thing I want to do,” he growls. “It’s just. You do something to me. Something I really don’t understand.”
But I get it. I know a little about PTSD from reading magazines and such. The poor guy is lost. He’s in a world he doesn’t understand. And after all he's seen, it makes sense. But why won’t he let me help him? Why does he want pretty blonde Amy instead? I guess it makes sense. My friend is all smiles and fun, whereas I’m a sober girl who studies too much. So why am I so devastated? Amy is what’s best for Brent at this stage of his life … but inside, I want it to be me.
Chapter 10
BRENT
I’m about to do it again. Pour myself out before this heavenly creature. I wanted to avoid her. I honestly hadn't known Janie was going to be in that class, and yet looking back, I should have known. After all, she was a Comp Lit major, and it made sense she’d be taking a poetry class. But still. What were the chances? Fuck my life.
But still, the way Janie meets my gaze and seems to know my soul is absolutely irresistible.
“What don’t you understand?” she whispers. I squint, but it’s no use. The girl’s bathed in a halo in the afternoon sunshine, like she’s literally an angel descended from the heavens.
“The way - the way you …,” I stumble, hating myself. “You’re so easy to talk to.” The expression on her face softens.
“But I can’t keep going like this Janie. Everytime I open my mouth I regret it afterwards.”
“Regret?” she says, looking vaguely hurt, and I realize she thinks that maybe I regret opening up to her. Which is true, but not in the way she thinks.
“Not because of you but because I end up making a fool out of myself. It’s like opening a can of worms. A can that needs to stay closed.” Janie starts protesting, but I hold my hand up, stopping her before she can say anything.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” I whisper, coming closer to her. Her pupils dilate, big boobs heaving as I intrude on her personal space. “We don’t have to talk, do we?” I take her hand, folding those small fingers into mine. I pull her up against me and lay my other hand in her neck, smoothing away her curls so our skin can touch.
“No,” she says breathlessly. “I mean yes,” she stammers, eyes fluttering shut. She leans her head back, allowing me to effortlessly cradle her neck. The sun dusts her alabaster skin, so white in this sunlight I can see the delicate blue veins at her temples. I’ve never seen anything so perfect and I stare intently at every detail of her features as I hold her up against me, unable to stop myself. How can the urge to kiss her, to fuck her, and to own her, be so primal? I clench my teeth in passion, not understanding myself.
But her full lips part, wanting me to kiss her. The feeling of her enormous breasts up against me overrides anything else. I crunch my hand into a hard fist, gathering a handful of her hair, and force the woman to me.
The time this kiss is much deeper and more passionate than I intended. But as soon I touch her lips with mine, I forget myself. I let go of her hand and slide my arm around her waist, lifting her up towards me, my other hand still a fist that holds her head in place by her hair. I can feel her chest rising rapidly under the effect of my sudden passion for her. She moans gently and I break loose just enough to be able to look into her opening eyes, which are dazed and innocent. I’m so tired of being in public with her. I need to have her to myself somewhere. I need to ravage this woman fully and spend my seed inside her like the male animal I am.
“Janie?” I whisper. She only nods, listening, her eyes half closed. “You wanna get out of here?”
She nods again, a small, adorable smile stretching across her perfect lips, creating those gorgeous dimples of hers.
Mom’s not home, so I drive her back to mine. It’s only a ten minute drive, but it’s ten minutes too long. Honoring my earlier confession of having had enough of talking, she doesn't say anything else the whole way there. Good girl. But she doesn’t need to say anything, anyway. Her presence beside me is all I need. Her reassuring warmth, her perfect, soft body – it’s the answer to my dreams. I park the car hastily and taking her hand, lead her inside. As soon as she’s through those doors, I gather her to me and kiss her again, lifting her up in my arms. She lets out a surprised giggle.
“Oh my god! I’ve never been carried like this before!” she laughs.
“Never?”
“I’m a pretty big girl,” she says shyly.
“Well, luckily I’m a pretty strong guy,” I say cockily, making her laugh again. I storm into my bedroom and lay her down on my bed, which I mercifully made that morning. Again, you can take a man out of the Army, but you can’t take the Army out of the man.
Unable to contain myself any longer, I lay down on top of her, kissing her, my right hand in the nape of her neck and the other cupping her tits. She sighs and closes her eyes, letting me kiss her neck as she runs her hands through my hair. The dress she’s weari
ng has a zipper down the front. I unzip it and her huge tits fall out, making my cock twitch in my jeans.
“Oh god,” I groan, tasting one of her tits while licking and biting the large nipple.
“Yes,” she moans and starts pulling at my t-shirt, gathering the material and pulling it off over my head. Stopping suddenly, she looks stunned for a moment as her eyes travel down my torso as it looms over her.
“What?” I ask huskily, only able to think of what I’m about to do to her.
“You’re perfect,” she says huskily. I shake my head.
“No, you are,” I growl, and I start kissing her again. The feeling of my bare skin on her bare skin is sensational in a way I wasn’t expecting. Warm and soft, yes. But oddly personal and intimate, too. When had I last been skin to skin with someone? Even on our date the other night, when we’d fucked, we were mostly clothed. Overcome by her heavenly scent, I tear the rest of her dress off of her, as she urgently unbuckles my jeans. I push them down my legs along with my boxers, and yank her panties off with my other. Fully naked now, I lay on top of her, completely skin to skin. The breath stops in my throat and I halt for a moment, pulling back from our kiss to stare into her caramel eyes.
“Are you okay?” she whispers, running the back of her hand down my stubbled cheek.
“It’s just - I’ve never been with anyone like this - so - so intimately,” I stammer like a schoolboy, and Janie blushes.
“Me neither,” she whispers, clasping her arms around my neck and pulling me closer. “I need you, Brent. I need you inside me,” she adds urgently. I’m overcome with a wave of lust that almost blinds me. Growling through my clenched teeth, I grip her wrists and pin them aggressively behind her, where I hold them in place with one fist. I use my other hand to wrench her legs apart, exposing her pussy to my throbbing cock. Her sudden intake of breath and look of surprise stops me. Because I need to be careful – for her sake, as well as mine.
Chapter 11
JANIE
His weight is full on me as he pins my wrists behind my head in a sudden aggressive movement. It’s as if Brent’s overcome by an uncontrollable, animalistic lust. It literally takes my breath away and he looks up apologetically, thinking I’m scared or worried. But I’m not. I’m just powerless, but I want it and my pussy’s creaming in anticipation.
“Sorry,” he whispers. I can’t speak, but my eyes on his tell him what he needs to know: to continue. He loosens the grip on my wrists but doesn’t release me. He leans on the mattress with his other hand, his arm pressed into the softness of my hip, and then I feel his cock against my slick, puffy cunt. He holds it still against the opening, breathing heavily through clenched teeth as he towers over me. I’m moaning in anticipation. I can’t handle the torture of him almost entering me, and then holding back
“Do it, Brent,” I plead. He tightens his grip on my wrists again, his jaw clenching, all his muscles taut with self-control.
“I can’t,” he growls. “It’s different from yesterday.”
“Why?” I whisper, writhing under him, begging him to take me. He slams my wrists against the mattress, harder this time, with impatient passion. I gasp from surprise.
“The way I have you here. Like this. I can’t trust myself, Janie,” he breathes, overcome with passion. His eyes are those of a caged animal. Wild, desperate, and hungry. But trained and careful as well. I gaze up at him, breathless.
“I trust you,” I whisper as I look into his eyes. It sends him over the edge. The last remnants of control disappear. With a deep and powerful groan he thrusts his pelvis hard against mine, pushing his huge cock deep into my pussy in one hard movement, making me cry out in shocked pleasure and pain. I’m wet and ready for him, but he’s huge. A lot to take all in one go like this.
Brent holds still for one moment, his body taut, pinning me in place with his strength as he gazes down at me.
“Janie,” he growls. My mouth is open but I can’t answer. Then he thrusts again, hard, making me gasp. He moans through clenched teeth, holding back with all his might from fucking me senseless.
“Janie,” he rasps, gazing down at me. Again, I can’t answer, but my cunt clenches around his cock making him grimace with passion. At this, he thrusts again, harder and harder, faster and faster, as he looks into my eyes, trying not to ruin me. But I desperately want to be ruined. That’s what he doesn’t get.
“Yes,” is my breathless mewl, gazing at him as he fucks me hard. “Do it.”
He growls, eyes alight with arousal.
“Fuck baby. I wanted to go slow, but you know what? You’re a big girl, and big girls get fucked hard.”
The delicious words run over my frame and I moan, arching my back to give him full access to my body. Even though he’s pounding me almost harder than I can take, he's still holding back in self-denial. It scares me to think what he might to if he let go all the way. My pussy will be raw and painful for days after this but I don’t care. His huge cock pushing in and out past my G-spot, his pubic bone slamming into my clitoris over and over again. He’s going to me make come harder than I’ve ever come before. Judging from the sweat that drips down his brow and the look of helpless lust in his eyes as he gazes into mine, he’s close too.
“Janie, you’re ruining me,” he groans before kissing me deeply and desperately. He moans into my mouth, licking my tongue, and this is the last thing I can handle. As his huge cock fucks my pussy harder and harder, I come like a banshee, moaning into his mouth at first, then breaking away to scream as my cunt contracts long and hard. Groaning, he brings his hand to my swaying tits and squeezes one of them while looking into my face, his features contorting with terrible pleasure as his cock throbs hard, unleashing his load. Hot juices spurt inside as I squeal and squirm, loving the virile rush of his semen. And all this time he never unlocks his gaze from mine.
In this moment of his pure honesty, I suddenly know what I saw in his eyes when I first met him but couldn’t place. It’s the look of innocence, the look of a child - but it was so out of place in his adult body that I hadn’t recognized it at first. This guy is lost, and in need for someone to love him. And for the first time, I gaze back at him with understanding in my eyes. Brent gets it. Finding peace in what just passed between us, he closes his eyes and slowly lowers himself down onto my chest, still heaving from the after effects of our passion.
He lays his head on my breast, and gently lets his body go slack as I fold my arms around his muscular torso as far as they will go. He snakes his arms around my waist in response and we lay there are few moments, until our breathing slows to normal.
“Brent?” I whisper. But the slow and steady rise of his chest indicates he’s fallen asleep. I don’t move, even though I’m being crushed under two hundred and fifty pounds of pure muscle.
For the first time, I notice the scars on his skin. Some look old, others newer. They look like they were caused by mostly scrapes and cuts, not bullet holes or anything, thank goodness. And the thought of Brent being shot makes me feel sick. I’m glad I met him, fell for him, after he joined the Army because I would never have survived the heartbreak of constantly worrying about a man like this. I’m glad his tours are over. He’s back now, safe and sound, here with me.
I push away the nagging reminder that he’s not mine, even after this shattering sexual experience. The little voice in my head that says he’s interested in dating Amy. Somehow, I push it away, only wanting to live in the here and now. The muscles of this beast of a man may be slack and the power inside him may be dormant, but the purity and sincerity I saw in his eyes were real. Consumed by contentment, I allow myself to lay my head back and match Brent’s easy rhythm of breathing. Peacefully, I fall asleep.
I don’t know for how long I’ve slept, but when I wake up, the afternoon sun is casting long shadows across Brent’s bedroom. A blanket is draped over me and bathed in the golden light, I’m in heaven. But Brent is nowhere to be seen. I sit up, listening, and for a moment I figure I’
m alone in the house. But then there’s some clanking coming from the other room, along with the delicious smell of food. My mouth starts watering. I dress hurriedly and follow my nose, entering the opening plan kitchen living room where Brent is bustling with that broad back to me. I watch him bend down and take something out of the oven. He’s godawful gorgeous, that bronzed back muscular and wide, his butt perfectly shown off in a pair of loose sweatpants.
“What did you make?” I ask. Brent starts so violently he almost drops the dish. “Sorry!” I exclaim, giggling. But my man is laughing too, putting the dish down safely on the cooling rack and turning to face me.
“I didn’t even know you were up. You move like a panther,” he grins at me. I’m shy suddenly, not knowing what to do with my body.
“It’s meatloaf, by the way,” he adds, gesturing to the dish. I gape. Did this man just make dinner for me?
“My mom’s working late today, so I promised I’d cook,” he clarifies, sending my heart plunging into my stomach. I’m such an idiot, thinking he’d cook for me, when actually this is his mother’s house. Embarrassed for even entertaining the idea, I smile and start collecting my things, which I’d mindlessly dumped on the sofa in the living room earlier, too caught up in the passion.