“No, I mean, I don’t want to have sex with an agenda. I don’t want to live by calendars and pregnancy tests. I want to fuck because we’re horny, not because it’s Tuesday, and I’m fertile.”
“Annie Ryann, did you just use the word fuck?” The gleam in his eye screamed arousal.
Suddenly shy, I let out a response with a demure grin, “Maybe…”
His hands moved over my hips and around my ass. “Do you love me?” he asked with a snarky grin.
“What?” His change of pace had totally thrown me for a loop.
“Do you love me?”
“Undoubtedly. Of course, I love you. Why would you ask that?”
“I just wanted to hear the words come out of your mouth.” He crashed his lips to mine, and I quickly grasped why he had locked the door. The papers beneath him on the desk fluttered to the floor as my husband took what belonged to him. Brett had some alpha-male in him, but I rarely saw it. I knew it was part of his personality that was prominent in the DC, or when my name came up with other men, but it was rare for me to witness his caveman mentality rear its head. Some douchebag hit on me, that version of Brett came out front and center, but when it was just the two of us, he was putty. My very own badass ball of love. But at that moment, Brett went alpha to prove something. He was asserting his claim and putting the fuck back in our marriage.
His tongue danced with mine, and he drew me impossibly close to him. He slid his ass as close to the edge of the desk as he could and still be sitting on it, then pressed his jean-clad dick to my middle, teasing me. Both hands took a firm hold on my ass cheeks, and he dug in his fingers. He used the leverage and changed the angle to taunt me and edge my arousal, to entice me to a point I was so wet my panties were uncomfortable.
My hands were erratic and roamed every conceivable inch of his upper body, but his were laser focused. He didn’t break the kiss or the way our tongues played games teasing each other. But he unbuttoned my jeans and sank his hands down into the river between my legs.
“Fuck, you’re wet, sweetheart.” He spoke into my mouth as two of his thick fingers plunged into my wanton pussy.
My head rocked back, my long hair tickling the backs of my arms, and a throaty moan escaped from deep within my chest. The forklifts beeping just beyond the door should have alerted me to the inappropriateness of what we were doing, but instead, I was lost in the trail his lips left down my neck while he worked inside me, and all coherent thought was gone. When his thumb found my clit, I almost came undone, but his movements slowed, leaving me bereft. It never failed, he had no problem working me into a total frenzy using his fingers or his mouth, but when I came, it would be on his dick. I loved that about him. It was intimate in some way I couldn’t define and uniquely Brett.
He relinquished his hold on my hot core in order to use both of his hands to divest me of my clothing; then off came his. His shirt hit the floor, and his jeans hovered around his ankles. I could hear the people around us, milling about, doing their jobs, but nothing deterred me from the orgasm on the other side of this scenario. I didn’t care that the office smelled like cardboard, or that someone could knock on the door at any minute and interrupt our escapade. My only thought was Brett taking me just because he could.
Sitting back on the edge of his desk, he didn’t just pull me amid his thighs; he encouraged me to mount him. Nestled in his lap, he reached under me to place the head of his cock at my desperate entrance. With my knees on either side of his legs and his other hand firmly on my hip, I lowered myself onto a little slice of heaven. The stretching, the filling, the desperation sent waves of ecstasy coursing through me. The hand that had been holding his dick flew to my lips to stifle the loud cries that erupted from my mouth every time I took him in. The initial thrust still shocked my body until my muscles relaxed to make room for him.
He breathed the words into my ear. “Sweetheart, you have to be quiet here.”
I silently affirmed my understanding as his hand descended from my face. He spread his legs a little wider, opening my sex to him and deepening his penetration. I bit my lip to keep from crying out. His hands returned to my butt, digging in as he regulated the pace at which I slipped up and down his hard shaft. He rocked my hips in a wave-like motion, pulling my ass cheeks apart to encourage each ascent and allowing them to roll under with each downward grind.
“You’re so fucking hot,” he groaned.
I loved witnessing the lust that captivated his expression as he watched me ride him, staring at the place where we became one. His eyes clouded over with lust, and a coy smile hung loosely on his lips. It turned him on for me to watch, but today it took far more effort than it should. All I wanted to do was enjoy my husband controlling my body, even if he was currently in slow motion. I couldn’t stay focused on my lap, regardless of how raw and insanely hot it was, I needed more leverage and friction.
Brett controlled our rhythm. Our bodies moved like they had been created for each other, perfectly choreographed. His hungry kisses lavished my throat when he pulled me up on his dick again. He caught my nipple in his mouth, sucking it, licking it, devouring it. Without breaking our union or slowing our movement, he turned his attention to the other side, adorning it with the same attention he’d given the right.
“Brett, I need it harder, baby.” I moaned a ragged breath into his ear.
He was making love, and I needed something more animalistic. I was desperate to feel him everywhere, to be consumed by his feral need, a whole-body experience that only Brett brought me when I came.
“You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?”
I nodded into his shoulder. This alter-ego of Brett’s was one of my favorites. The strong bad-boy drove me wild.
“Is that sweet little pussy hungry?” His words were hot on my skin beneath my ear.
Again, all he got was a nod, but my insides heated upon hearing the word pussy come from his mouth.
“I want you to come on my dick.” The sentiment came out in a husky, hungered haze that egged me on.
My response came with teeth on his shoulder. He was driving me all kinds of crazy, and I couldn’t verbalize my frustration or pleasure. He fucking growled in return, turning me on more than I thought possible. I desperately wanted him to take me over the edge, give me the release my body so badly craved.
He stood, taking me with him, but I’m not tall enough to maintain that position without him holding me. I moaned at the loss, feeling empty and unsatisfied. I couldn’t figure out his angle. He’d never played with me like this. Utterly confused, he toyed with me through greedy kisses before he roughly turned me to face the desk and stepped up behind me.
“Lean over the desk, sweetheart. Body flat, hands out to the side—hold on to the edges of the desk.”
I did as he instructed. That shit was turning me on more than I’d thought possible. He kicked my feet apart, spreading me for his viewing pleasure. I heard the whoosh of the air before I felt the sting of his palm on my ass. His hand gently teased the warm skin before he popped me again. With three swats that had me on fire, I was bouncing on my toes in anticipation of him.
“Damn, Annie, you’re such a pretty pink, so tight—swollen.”
Before I knew what to expect, he slammed into me from behind. My head shot up, lifting my chest from the desk, at the sudden fullness.
“Head down.” He barked those two words in a fierce tone I didn’t recognize.
My cheek remained aligned with the desk, and he maintained a firm grasp on my hips. For just an instant, the scene in the bathroom with Gray flashed before my eyes, wiped away by the sting of remembering why that had bothered me then. My entire body tensed, but Brett instantly recognized it.
Brett’s voice changed, reverted to the soothing man who brought me back to the present, when he commanded in my ear, “Stay with me, sweetheart. No traveling to the past.”
He waited for me to nod, acknowledging I wasn’t trapped in dark memories before he continued. But once he di
d, he thrust, pulling me to him with each lunge, and pushing away as he withdrew. It was hard. It was rough. But he kept talking, ensuring I could hear him, so it was also glorious. My insides clenched, and Brett anticipated my orgasm covering my mouth with both of his hands, using his grip as added leverage to continue his pilgrimage in my body. His flesh muffled my screams, and the orgasm rolled through me for what seemed like ages. It was sublime, even more so when I erupted again just moments later when Brett reached his peak. Finally drained, he laid flat on my back and stroked my arms and cheek with his thumb. With a final kiss to the neck, he whispered in my ear, “I love you, Annie.” There was a brief pause before he added, “First and foremost, it will always be you.” And he pushed himself up.
It took me several deep breaths and more effort than I cared to exert to finally straighten my body into a standing position. I reached down to the floor and tagged my shirt before lifting to reach his mouth. He met me half way. I softly murmured against his lips, “I love you too, Brett. So very much.”
As I dressed, I watched him pull his jeans over his muscular thighs and tuck himself back into his boxers. Every once in a while, I caught myself staring at him; he was exquisite. I knew men weren’t supposed to be pretty, but the fact remained that Brett was. It was a rugged beauty, or maybe just masculine, but all the same, it was there. He brushed his messy hair out of his face only to catch me gawking. “You like what you see?”
With a candid smile, I nodded. “Absolutely. You’re gorgeous.”
“Nah, you got the market cornered on gorgeous, but I’m glad you think so.”
Pulling the last of my clothes on, I laughed. I loved the way he made me smile—it was infectious. “You’re crazy. It’s not me that people stare at wherever we go. Women don’t just stare at you, Brett, they gape. I think they’d eat you if they could. They don’t care that I’m on your arm or that your finger is adorned with my ring. They’d take you in a heartbeat just to cop a feel.” I winked at him, but it was true, and he knew it.
“The only reason you think I get all the attention is because you’re focused on the women staring at me, not the men adoring you.” He swatted me on the ass playfully, grinning that award-winning smile. “You good now? Or do you need some more attention before I go back to work?”
Ugh, I could smack him.
“I’m good for now, but I’m sure I will need more attention when you get home.” I glanced in the mirror on the back of the door to ensure I didn’t have the thoroughly fucked look while walking through the DC.
“I’m taking you up on that the moment I walk in tonight. Be prepared.”
Knowing Brett, he was serious. He always took care of every need I had, even if it was carnal. He wouldn’t admit it, and I sure as hell wouldn’t, but he knew I needed a primal, physical touch from him today. I needed him to fuck me, not make love to me, but show my body his corporal presence. I required the feel of the aftereffects of said fucking every time I took a step—a reminder that my mind, body, and soul were the property of my husband.
Before he turned the knob, he captured my cheeks in his large hands, tilting my face up while he stared down. “I promise, no more agenda. From here on out, we have sex because we’re horny and want to fuck. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
“And Annie, I don’t want to discuss options anymore. I never intended to make you feel like you were failing me. I just couldn’t stand to see you hurt. I was trying to fix things. That’s what men do. There is nothing more important in this life than you. Remember that. Everything else is secondary.” He pecked my lips and released my face, knowing we were more right than we’d been in months.
The moment we stepped out of his office, the catcalls started, which were followed by whistles. Apparently, nothing that had just taken place in his office was a secret, regardless of how quiet I’d been. My face flamed in embarrassment, but I caught Gray’s eye across the DC floor, and he winked at me and threw me a nod. That was Gray’s way of saying he was proud of me, and the embarrassment no longer mattered. All I cared about was Brett and his happiness, and today, thanks to Gray, we’d taken a giant step closer to mending our marriage.
“Shut the fuck up and get back to work,” Brett hollered.
The guys hooted but did as he told them. He wasn’t pissed; he just didn’t want me mortified. Guys got off on that shit; they loved for their friends to know they’d just claimed a piece of ass, and in Brett’s eyes, there was no pussy more worth claiming than mine. We walked hand in hand to the door where he deposited me with Lynn.
With a kiss on the mouth, he said, “Love you, sweetheart. See you at home.”
I reciprocated before plopping down next to my friend.
She grinned at me. “You good?”
In a lazy haze, I responded, “Yeah, I’m good.”
She chuckled and shook her head. We chatted for a few minutes as I gave her a rundown of the last few months before I got up and went home.
Chapter Ten
Annie
Eliminating the pressure of having an agenda in our marriage brought Brett and me back to where we’d been pre-baby craze. It didn’t change the fact that every time my period came, I wondered whether it was a fertilized egg that was unable to implant in my uterus—an unrecognized miscarriage so early on we weren’t aware it was a pregnancy—but at least that was only once a month. We tried to resume our social life and just enjoy each other. We spent more and more time with Dan and Lissa, and I had fast developed a strong bond with Dan’s girlfriend.
We spent most weekends with them, and those we didn’t, I talked to Lissa regularly. Dan and Brett joked about how dependent we’d become on each other, but the truth was, I had really connected with her. She knew just about all there was to know about me, except what happened with Will. She knew the gist of it but didn’t have any details. Even after all these years, sharing his story still felt like a violation, so when his name came up, I only spoke of the wonderful things about him. When I told people he had passed away, no one ever questioned how, they just said they were sorry. Lissa had been no different.
The four of us had met at a pizza place downtown. It was still fairly early in the evening, and families scurried around with their children. Our conversation had been lively as Brett and Dan recalled stories from college that didn’t seem to suit either of their adult personalities. It was hard to imagine them ever being frat boys, not because they didn’t have the look, but they seemed so disinterested in that sort of thing, but sure enough, they’d been the ringleaders of their house.
Lissa listened with raptured curiosity, learning more about Dan with each passing day. As they approached the one year mark, I wondered how much longer it would be before Dan popped the question, but I hadn’t asked. Dan and I were close because he was Brett’s best friend, and I was Brett’s wife, but I kept that line clearly drawn in the sand. Never again would I experience what I had with Gray and Topher, I wouldn’t even get close. The more I questioned Brett about Dan’s proposing, the faster he blew me off. He finally told me even if he knew, he wouldn’t share because I’d never keep my mouth shut to Lissa. That wasn’t true, my not keeping a secret, but the accusation got me to stop asking. Now, we both waited. We had compared time frames, hoping Dan might mimic mine and Brett’s, but that still put her a couple of months out.
My attention shifted from the conversation in front of me to the woman who’d just come through the door. The smile fell from my face, and somber envy replaced it. She was every bit of eight months pregnant and holding her hand was a little girl with bouncy, brown curls that graced her shoulders. The child couldn’t have been more than two. As they stepped up to the counter, the tears started to form. The daughter let go of her mother’s hand in favor of her dad’s arms. I watched with rapt attention as he lifted her to his hip with a smile and pointed at pictures on the menu above the register.
“Baby envy?” Lissa’s words sucked me out of my trance and back to the people at my table.
“They’re cute. I think it would be awesome to be pregnant, but I wouldn’t want the whole baby part after. Too much responsibility for me—no thank you.”
She had no idea what she was saying. Apparently, there were two things I hadn’t shared with her: details of Will and our baby struggle.
The silence at the table stopped her laughter. She looked to me and saw the tears before turning quickly to Dan. “Oh no, what did I say?”
Brett started to answer, but I silenced him with my hand on his forearm. Lissa would never intentionally cause anyone pain. She didn’t know. Before I could speak, Dan did.
“Brett and Annie have been trying to get pregnant for a long time. It’s just a tough topic.”
Lissa leaned across the booth and took my hands in hers. “Oh no, Annie. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean anything by that. Please forgive me.”
I waved her off and released her hand to grab a napkin. Before the first round of tears soaked my cheeks, I swiped at them, effectively erasing any trace of their existence. “It’s okay. I don’t talk about it much. You had no way of knowing.”
Brett glanced at me before interjecting, “Annie’s had two miscarriages.” He waited for me to stop him, but it was easier for him to say the words than me, so I allowed him to continue. “After the second one, she underwent some exploratory procedures. It’s unlikely we will be able to have children of our own; there’s too much scar tissue from the D&C she had with the first miscarriage.”
Lissa had the oddest reaction. No one ever smiled when they heard the truth, people were always empathetic, even if they didn’t want children of their own. “Have you considered a surrogate?” Her face was burning with glee.
My brow furrowed before I responded, “No. I don’t have a sister.”
“No, but you have me.”
Brett glanced over at Dan, and I tried to watch them from the corner of my eye. Her boyfriend seemed as shocked as I was.
“Lissa, I would never ask you to carry my child. That’s crazy. It’s not like borrowing twenty dollars.” I waved her off but appreciated her sentiment.
Freed (Bound Duet Book 2) Page 16
