“There’s nobody just like you, Sophie,” I smiled.
She gave a dry chuckle. “Apparently not, because she offered something I didn’t. Something Richard wanted. They’d been messing around for a while, I guess. A lot of people knew. When I found out, I broke up with him. I suddenly wanted to…” She trailed off, shaking her head with a sad smile. “Anyway, I ended up at Lily’s shop. I had driven by it a million times, and it looked like such a fun place. So colorful. And I wanted to be someplace new. I wanted something wild. I went in and asked her to play with my hair, then sort of unloaded and told her…” She closed her eyes for a moment and swallowed hard. “I told her I wanted a one-night stand. She suggested I come to the party.”
I made a mental note to kiss Lily’s feet the next time I saw her.
“I thought that, maybe if I was tainted somehow, if I was just a little less perfect, I could live with myself. But it doesn’t matter what really happens, it’s all about how it looks. And I still looked like Sophie. My parents still want me to marry him. He still wants me to marry him. I just…” She shook her head and motioned around the room. “I’m tired of pretending to be this.”
“Sophie, you shouldn’t have to pretend for anyone.”
“Remember me telling you that I took ballet as a kid?”
I nodded, and she dropped her gaze down to her hands.
“I loved it. Feeling the music flow through my body. I could get lost in it. I practiced all the time. But when I was about twelve, when my body started to develop, my mother pulled me out.” She frowned at the unpleasant memory. “It was clear that I wasn’t going to have a lean dancers build. She said I’d look foolish. Plump and desperate. Especially compared to the other girls.”
“What the fuck?” I growled. “What a bitch of a thing for your mom to say. Jesus, your body is hot as hell.”
Sophie gave a caustic laugh and shook her head with disbelief. “Whatever.”
“I’ve seen a lot of tits and ass, Sophie,” I said seriously. “I’m kind of an expert in the field, really. But honestly, you… I’ve seen you in action, in a few different ways. There’s truly something magic about the way you move. You could never look foolish.”
Her eyes flashed up to mine, hot and startled. She seemed to be searching for something in my expression. I wasn’t sure if she found it, but she confessed in a quiet voice.
“You don’t know the half of it, though.”
“Okay,” I asked warily, “what else have you done?”
“Well, nothing really. Not yet. It’s just… all the things I want to do.”
“Like what, Soph?” I asked softly.
A faint tremble sounded in her breath as she looked at me for a moment before answering. “I want to smoke pot.”
Not really what I was expecting. “What?” I chuckled.
She frowned at me. “Seriously. I want to smoke pot. Marijuana.”
“I know what pot is. But you—”
“I’ve never done it. I always envied the kids that smoked pot in school. I remember watching them talk about it in the hallways and laugh about how much fun they had. Have you ever done it?”
I laughed. “Honey, my best friends are in a band. Yeah, I’ve done it. Not like regularly, but now and then.” I tilted my head to give her a sidelong glance. “You know, though, most people get this whole rebellion thing out of the way at a much younger age.”
“I know.” Sophie shook her head with a little dismay at her late-bloomery. “I’m twenty-three years old, and I never do anything wrong. Ever. I always follow the rules. I always do what I’m told. Not a hair out of place or a wrinkle in my clothes.” Sophie looked at me with a wry smile. “I was well on my way to becoming the perfect Stepford wife.”
This made me chuckle, and Sophie smiled before looking at me steadily and continuing in a low, determined voice.
“I want to do all those things that the cool kids did. All the things I was too scared to do.” She leaned forward towards me, searching my eyes. “I want to get really, really drunk. I want to get stoned.” Her voice dropped to the faintest of whispers. “I want to kiss a girl.”
Holy fuck.
“I want to ride a motorcycle. Without a helmet.”
That one sort of made me want to laugh, but she seemed so sober and earnest, so I kept it in, settling for a smile.
“The other night, at the Copperline… that was amazing. I want to do that again, to dance all night and go to breakfast at three in the morning and to bed when the sun comes up. I want…” she paused for a minute, and then whispered, “I want public woohoo.”
“Public woohoo?” I choked. No way. She couldn’t mean what I was thinking.
“Yeah, like on the Sims where they do it in a dressing room or something.”
Holy fuck, she totally meant what I was thinking.
But Sophie wasn’t done.
“I want to have a threesome.”
My jaw dropped open. I had never been more shocked in all my life. This prim and proper little thing, this picture of class and refinement, wanted a… a threesome? My brain went completely defunct for a minute. The thought of watching someone else touch her while I touched her, to worship her satiny skin alongside me and taste her and… oh fuck.
“Brannon,” she whispered shakily, “say something.”
My voice sounded strangled when I finally got a few words out. “Like with two dudes, or a dude and another chick?” Not very articulate, but it was all I could spit out at the moment.
Sophie pursed her lips nervously. “Well, I do want to kiss a girl. But I think, for a threesome… I want two men.”
The motorcycle surprised me. The kissing a girl floored me. The public woohoo bewildered me. But the threesome damn near killed me off.
“And I want to get a tattoo,” she continued.
This time, I couldn’t stop the hoarse chuckle that escaped my body. “Um,” I quietly murmured, absofuckinglutely mind-blown by her deep, dark desires, “in that order?”
She breathed out a hesitant laugh. “You look a little surprised.”
I just nodded. My head was whirling with a fucking million different scenarios, all including Sophie, most of them including Sophie naked, some of them with her screaming my name. As she watched me carefully, gauging my response, I finally managed to coax a halfway cognizant thought from my astounded brain.
“Um, you know… I could help you out with some of that.”
With my words, her breathing began to come a little faster, a little harder. With every inhalation, her beautiful tits raised to press against the sweet rounded curve of her neckline.
“Obviously,” I said, “there are a few things I can’t do. I’m not a tattoo artist, but Drew has his shop where you got your nose pierced. And Denny’s generally got some pot laying around. Says it helps his creativity when he’s writing music.” I gave her a sidelong smile. “Mind you, you might end up in a song, though.”
Sophie smiled and gave a breathy laugh.
“I’m happy to take you to the Copperline anytime you want. And we can have breakfast again at Perkins afterwards. And, um, you hang out at enough Mofo parties with me, I think we could get that whole kissing a girl thing worked out.” Unable to resist the pull of her soft lips, I brushed my thumb across the beautiful bow of her mouth. “Just, um… make sure I’m there to see it.” She choked out a half-mortified laugh, but her eyes lit with an intense heat. “Really, Soph,” I almost groaned, “I’d hate to miss that.”
Her eyes lowered for a second, just a short little quiet second where I was afraid she was going to slip the mask back on. That this sudden bout of confession was a flash in the pan and she was going to disappear into her demure facade.
“We can start there and work up to, um…” my throat suddenly felt tight and choked as my voice faded off. Sophie cocked her head just a little, silently encouraging me to continue. “Work up to the… the threesome.”
Her whole affect changed, and there was a sudden hea
t in her eyes that mingled with the challenge in my voice. A vibrant electricity seemed to hover in the air around us, and something tingled in my bloodstream, burning through my veins.
“Okay,” she whispered, her face flushed and her tongue darting out to wet her soft lips. “I would like that very much.”
Oh, Jesus fucking Christ.
“Dude,” I said into the phone to Denny as Sophie and I climbed in my Cougar, “you home? It’s four-twenty.”
Sophie looked at me confused and whispered, holding up her own phone to show me the time displayed. “Brannon, it’s only two-forty-five.”
I grinned at her and shook my head. “It’s an expression, baby,” I chuckled.
“What the fuck?” Denny sputtered as he overheard my explanation. “You’re bringing a loosebit with ya?”
“Yeah, Sophie’s coming with me.”
“Holy shit,” he mumbled, “your little rich bird from Perkins the other night? She’s coming to my house to get baked?”
“Well, that’s what we’re trying to do,” I said with an exaggerated emphasis.
“Jaysus,” Denny replied. “Um, yeah, I’ve got some. Come on over. It’ll be good craic.”
“Dude,” I sighed, “sometimes it’s like you’re not even speaking English.”
“I’m not, you tosser,” he laughed back, “I’m speakin’ Irish.”
“Okay, well, we’ll be there in about ten.”
I hit end to disconnect the call and looked over at Sophie to see her eyebrows knitted in confusion.
“Four-twenty means it’s time to get stoned, Soph.”
“Oh…” she murmured, and her eyebrows rose, then drew together again, looking rather perplexed. “My God, it’s like a whole new language.”
“It’s okay,” I reassured her with a light chuckle. “I’ll make sure nothing bad happens to you.”
“What if I don’t like it?” Sophie whispered in trepidation as Denny lit up the joint.
“You don’t have to do it, Soph,” I offered.
“No, I want to,” she quickly reassured me, shaking her head with some determination. “I do. Really.”
“So,” I replied, “if you do try it and don’t like it, you sure as hell don’t have to do anymore.”
“Okay,” she nodded as she watched Denny take a hefty drag. Then her expression grew a little worried again. “What if I do like it? What if I become a raging pothead? Or what if I get paranoid? I’ve heard—”
“I’ll be right here. I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise,” I reassured her.
“But you’re going to get stoned, too, right?”
“I’ll take a couple hits, but I’m not planning to get too baked since you’ve never done this. I don’t know how it will affect you, so I want to be somewhat clear-headed.”
I took the joint Denny handed me. He had an amused smile on his face, probably mirroring mine. Sophie was kind of adorable when she was nervous, and she was clearly on edge. Even kind of over the edge already, like Wylie Coyote hovering in midair for a second right before he’d fall. I just hoped she didn’t go into full panicky freak-out mode when she was actually high.
“What you do is just draw a little into your lungs and hold it for a few seconds,” I explained, and took a deep inhalation of the sweet smoke. After a few seconds, I let it out slowly, blowing it off to the side a bit so I could focus on Sophie’s face. I felt the initial tingle of calm, the promise of imminent relaxation and Zen. Then I held out the joint so she could take a hit.
Rather than taking it from me, she leaned her face towards my hand. I tipped it slightly so she could reach, and she carefully took a drag.
Watching her lips close over the joint was surprisingly erotic. Way more so than I’d have ever thought. Way more than I’d ever seen with another chick. I didn’t often smoke pot with girls, mostly just a bunch of us dudes. On the rare occasion that a girl had been around, I’d not felt anything remotely like this. But now, I could only remember how those soft lips had felt on my skin, and, as she breathed in, I felt a tremor ripple straight through my body right to my dick.
Then she lifted her head and immediately exhaled everything in a puff of smoke. “Like that?”
“Oh, Jaysus, Mary, and Joseph,” Denny laughed with mock horror. “Don’t waste it. You need to draw it into your lungs.” He reached for the joint which I handed over. “Like this.” He put it to his lips and breathed in deeply, holding his breath for an exaggerated period of time before releasing the pent up breath. He exhaled, breathing the smoke right towards Sophie and enveloping her into an intoxicating cloud.
Sophie coughed a little, but smiled and nodded. “Okay, let me try again.”
Denny handed her the weed, and she pinched it between her thumb and forefinger, emulating him almost perfectly. This time she held it in, only choking just a little tiny bit as she let it back out. She glanced back and forth between the two of us with a troubled expression.
“I don’t feel anything yet. Shouldn’t I feel something? What if it doesn’t work on me?”
“It’ll take a minute or two,” I grinned. She held the joint back out to me, and I shook my head and nodded towards Denny. “I don’t want to get too baked, Soph. I’m not sure how you’ll take to it.”
“Take another,” Denny gestured to her. “It won’t take too long before you feel it.”
She drew in again, closing her eyes. She didn’t choke this time, and the expression on her face was softening. Relaxing. When she looked back at me this time, I could faintly see the physical signs that it was starting to hit her. I gave her a reassuring smile, and she lazily grinned back.
Denny nudged her arm a bit, and she handed it back to him, watching him, studying his technique, grinning widely as he blew little smoke rings in the air. The two of them passed it back and forth, and Sophie got a rather adorable case of the giggles.
After some time, she focused on my face again. Sort of, anyway. Her gaze seemed to be getting a bit blurry. Languid. Her eyes began to glass over and her pupils dilated, but zeroed in on my face with a suddenly serious focus as she leaned forward.
“You know,” she murmured, “you have the most beautiful eyes.” She studied me closely. “They’re so… so… gray… ish… blue.”
“I take it you’re starting to feel it,” I chuckled, grazing her cheek with my thumb.
She gave me a lazy smile and erupted into another round of giggling. “But they are. Really gray and… blue.”
Denny handed me the joint, and I took a deep draw on it. Without exhaling, I hoarsely uttered, “Open your mouth and inhale, Soph.”
She did as I asked, and I closed my lips over hers and slowly let the smoke out of my lungs, feeling her drawing it into hers, holding it in her. Her laughter dissolved into a moan as she slipped her arms around my neck and melted against me, allowing the euphoric calm to spread throughout our bodies.
“Oh my,” she whispered breathlessly after I let her come up for air.
The thick, sweet smoke swirled around us, between us. It veiled the reality of the world outside our own little haze. Her eyes slowly fluttered halfway open to focus on my mouth, and her tongue leisurely slid along her lips to taste my kiss.
“Kiss me again,” she breathed. “I love how you kiss me. Please.”
Please.
Jesus Christ, that one little word, that faint hint of desperation in her voice, was going to haunt me for the rest of my fucking life.
Time seemed to just stop. The feel of her lips on mine intoxicated me more than the weed, and I savored her taste, every sigh of sheer, relaxed bliss. I could have spent hours kissing her. It sort of felt like I did. Like I was lost in the sweet caress of her lips and her hair and her body. I was thoroughly enraptured by her lethargic movements and the provocative slide of her tongue.
I leaned into her a little more, and she slowly fell back onto the couch, giggling a little into my mouth as I covered her with my body. My dick was throbbing, but at the same time
I felt like this could last forever. The ache was there, but the urgency I normally felt had been replaced with a sense of supreme contentment to just be lying there cradled snugly by her thighs.
“Don’t ever stop kissing me, Bran,” she whispered against my lips. “Please, I feel like I’m going under. Don’t let me go.”
“Jaysus,” I heard Denny mutter, “that’s pure hot. I need to write that shite down like.” I vaguely heard him get up and move across to the table where loads of sheet music and notebooks of lyrics lay.
And still I kissed Sophie. Her supple little body wrapping itself around mine as she kissed me back slowly. With a sedate fascination that swallowed me whole.
“My God, you can kiss,” she whispered against my lips. “I’m lost.”
I heard the occasional scratch of Denny’s pencil. Muffled sounds of passion filled the room, washing over us while we lay there in each other’s arms, barely moving but for the deep exploration of our kiss. It felt like hours. Days. Like a dream.
“Touch me, Bran,” she murmured, and began to pull at my clothes. “Please. I want to feel your skin on mine.”
I lifted my head, but couldn’t pull my focus from the heated flush and sensuality in Sophie’s face.
“Get the fuck out of here, Denny,” I growled, and dipped my face to kiss her again.
“Wait,” Sophie moaned, pushing back into the couch just a little to look at me. She clutched at my t-shirt as she glanced anxiously over at Denny and then back to me, searching my eyes. “Let him watch.”
The exhibitionist in me did fucking cartwheels, and my already throbbing dick became almost unbearable.
“Feckin’ hell, yeah,” Denny groaned, “let me watch.”
“Sophie,” I breathed, studying her closely for even the slightest hint of hesitation, “are you sure? I don’t want you to regret this.”
“I’d regret not doing this, Brannon,” she exhaled as her hips pressed hard up into mine. “Please… this is something I’ve always wanted, to be watched.”
“Fuck.” My breath rushed out of me as she leaned up to kiss me again. She wrapped her arms tight around my neck and curved her body into me, silently begging me.
Post Breakup Sex Page 6
