If he actually binds me…
Holy fuck.
My sex clenches with aftershocks.
Brendon waits until I'm finished, then he leans down to kiss me hard and deep. Finally, my eyelids flutter together.
My hands dig into his thick hair. My back arches so I can push my body against his.
He wraps his arms around me, pulling me off the table. "Come on. You're sleeping in my bed tonight."
"Won't Emma-"
He shakes his head. "She’s always running late to her internship. She won’t have time to look for you."
"Okay." I reach for my dress, but Brendon stops me.
"You can pick that up off the floor, but you're staying naked tonight."
I feel like I should object, but there isn't a single part of me that wants to.
I wake up wanting. Spending the night in Brendon's bed, with his hard body against mine, without being able to touch him is torture. A blissful, intense, beautiful torture.
It's around nine. Emma is already long gone. From the play nice, Brendon is always cranky in the mornings text on my phone, I'm guessing she didn't overhear anything last night.
For a moment, I feel guilty. Brendon is one of the only people I trust, but he's Em's brother, her best friend, her guardian. He's the person she trusts more than anyone else.
I'm second.
I know she loves us both, wants the best for both of us, but this isn't something she'll be happy about.
And Emma doesn't respond well to perceived betrayal.
No, this is more than that. It's not like she ever said don't fuck my brother, but it's not like she ever expected that to be an actual possibility.
This is a betrayal.
And it's going to hurt her.
If she finds out.
Which means she can't find out.
I text back.
Kaylee: I'll do my best, but only if he lets me have the remote.
Emma: Fuck. You're doomed. He doesn't let anyone have their hands on the controls.
My chest flushes. Does she know how true that is?
Emma: Read or something. He's a sweet guy, deep down. Really, really deep down. Not that I have to tell you. I'm going to be working late, but I can ditch if you need to talk.
Kaylee: No. You've been dying for this internship. Kick ass for me.
Emma: What if I have to pull an all-nighter?
Kaylee: I'll send you coffee.
Emma: Promise you'll call if you need to talk?
Kaylee: Promise.
My stomach lurches as I turn the phone over. This is a lie of omission, to my best friend, to my best friend who doesn't trust anyone.
But every inch of my body is begging me to stay here, to find out what it really means to submit to Brendon. Fuck, I'm already hot just thinking about it.
I put it out of mind for long enough to brush my teeth and change into some of the spare clothes I keep in Emma's room.
When I head back to the kitchen, Brendon is pouring two cups of coffee.
I take a deep breath. I can play this cool. Coolish. "Good morning."
He nods. "Splash of milk, one cube of sugar?"
"Yes, thank you."
"You have work today?"
"A dinner shift. You?"
"Nothing."
"Oh. So you don't have plans?"
He smiles. "I have a lot of plans for what I want to do to you."
Chapter 6
After we eat breakfast together, Brendon clears the plates and washes the dishes. I use the time to check my phone for a text from Emma.
I don't have one.
Instead, I have something from my coworker, Penny.
Penny: Kaylee, honey, I need a huge favor. My grandma is sick. I need to go help her out. Can you pick up my lunch shift?
Kaylee: I'm working tonight.
Penny: I asked Jake. He said you can pull a double. I'll owe you forever.
Brendon's arms slide around my chest. His breath warms my ear.
"Where did you come from?" I ask.
"The kitchen." He drags his lips over my neck. "You're sucked into that phone."
I set it on the table. "It's nothing important."
"Then why do you look like you're going to cry?"
"Do I really?"
He nods.
"My coworker needs a favor."
"And?"
"She wants me to cover her lunch shift."
Brendon turns me around so he can look me in the eyes. "You're already working tonight."
My voice gets weak. I can help. That means I should help. "I can do a double."
"Is that what you want?"
"No." I swallow hard. "I want to be here. But she needs help."
"Why?"
I show him the texts.
He cocks a brow. "Do you really believe that?"
"No, but what if it's true? Better safe than sorry."
His expression gets intense. "You always put everyone else first."
"Maybe." Probably. "If I don't step up, no one will."
"Is that why you keep writing articles for the staff reporters?"
"Only sometimes."
"Why you let Emma copy your notes for all your shared classes?"
I swallow hard.
"Why I always come home to the house clean as a whistle when you're here?"
"Emma is a slob."
"True." He chuckles. "But it's not your responsibility to clean."
"What's wrong with wanting to help a coworker? Or a friend?"
"Nothing." He brushes my hair behind my ear. "I'm being selfish, but I don't care. I want you here today."
"I'd have an hour if I took her shift."
"I want you here all day." He runs his fingers down my jaw. "I want to take care of you."
"But…"
"It's your choice, Kaylee. Give up your pleasure to help your coworker. Or stay with me and come until you can't take it anymore."
God, that sounds amazing. But I can't leave Penny hanging. Even if it's bullshit.
My phone buzzes again.
Penny: Please! I'll owe you forever.
Brendon's eyes fix on mine.
"What about a compromise?" I say. "I'll tell her I'll come in two hours early."
"Do you like this person?"
"She's fine."
"Why give up what you want for someone you don't even like?"
"No one else will do it."
He half-smiles. "You're a sweet girl." He looks to my phone and nods. "But you deserve to come first. Do you understand me?"
"The sex part, yes."
"You don't owe anyone anything."
"I want to help."
"I know."
I text her back.
Kaylee: I have plans, but I can come in two hours early.
Penny: Thank you, Kaylee. I owe you. I'll clear it with Jake. xoxo
Brendon looks to my cell and raises his brows. "She's using you."
"That doesn't mean I can't help."
"Put the phone away."
"But we—"
"It's my turn to take care of you."
Warmth spreads through my torso. I like the idea of Brendon taking care of me.
I silence my phone and set it on the table face down.
He leans down to plant a kiss on my neck. "How did you feel submitting to me last night?"
The warmth in my belly is replaced with white-hot heat. "I liked it."
"You want more." It's a statement more than a question.
"Yes." I arch my back to press my hips against his. I want more. A lot more.
He takes a step backwards. "Follow me." He moves into the living room, to the spot right in front of the couch.
Only it's also the spot right in front of the window, where anyone could walk by.
Despite the nerves rising in my stomach, I follow him. The house isn't on the main drag. It's in a residential area, but it's only a few blocks from the beach.
People might see us.
/> Brendon nods to the window. "You want the blinds closed?"
I bite my lip. "No."
"You want people to see you on your knees, angel?"
I swallow hard. "Yes."
He motions come here.
I do.
His lips crash into mine. It's a hard, hungry kiss. Need rises up from my stomach and pours from my lips to his.
Right now, I need to feel like someone cares about me, like someone understands me, like someone wants me.
Brendon and I might not be forever, but we are for now. And right now, I'm sure he cares about me.
He breaks our kiss to pull my t-shirt over my head. Then he's undoing my bra and pushing the straps off my shoulders.
Desire races through my body as Brendon cups my breasts.
My eyes flutter closed as he draws circles around my nipples. His hands are strong, but they're gentle too. Every brush of his fingers sends another wave of desire straight to my core.
"Brendon…" I grab onto his t-shirt.
"Say it again, angel."
"Brendon…" Right now, the only thing I know is that I want him touching me.
He presses his hips against mine so I can feel his erection. Still, he keeps his focus on my chest as he toys with my nipples. His touch gets lighter and lighter until it's so light I can barely feel it. Then it's harder.
Harder.
Hard enough it hurts as much as it feels good.
But it feels really fucking good.
He drags his fingers down over my collarbones. His voice is as demanding as his gaze. "On your knees."
Desire pools in my core. I want to be on my knees for him. I want him in my mouth.
I don't know how it's possible, but somehow, I'm even hotter. "I've never."
"I know. I'll walk you through it."
I lower myself onto my knees.
Brendon's hand curls into my hair. "I'm going to fuck that pretty mouth of yours."
"Yes."
"Unzip my jeans and take out my cock."
I bring my hands to the waistband of his jeans and unzip. My palm presses against his boxers. That's Brendon under that thin layer of cotton.
Desire pools in my core. I want this more than I want to get off.
I pull his jeans to his feet. Then the boxers.
And that's Brendon, hard and ready for me.
I take a moment to soak in the sight of him. He's thick. Long. My fingers go to the arrowhead-shaped tip. I explore him with my hand.
His skin is soft, but he's hard.
He feels good in my hand.
I lean in to brush my lips against him. At first, it's just a taste, and fuck does he taste good. Like skin and sweat and something distinctly him.
"Open your mouth," he commands.
I do.
He brings his other hand to my head. "Keep your hands at your sides, angel. I'm in control here. If it's too much, tug on my watch."
"Yes." I press my palms into my sides and pull my lips apart.
He holds my head in place as he shifts into my mouth. It's slow and gentle enough I can get a proper taste. I run my tongue over his head, savoring every groan that falls off his lips.
He tastes good and that's Brendon in my mouth.
I want him.
I want this.
His grip tightens as he thrusts deeper. My lips stretch around him. My tongue presses against the underside of his tip.
His pace stays slow, but, still, I have to relax my throat to keep from gagging.
I have to press my palms into my hips to keep from reaching out to touch him.
He looks down at me, his expression equal parts caring and ravenous. He runs one of his hands through my hair.
It settles on the back of my head. "I'm going to come in that pretty mouth of yours."
My sex clenches. I want that too.
I nod, sucking on him. I suck harder. Harder. I need more of him. I need him coming in my mouth.
Something in Brendon's expression shifts. Some animal part of him takes over as he presses his palm into the back of my head.
His movements get harder. He thrusts into my mouth hard and fast. He thrusts deep enough I gag. But I fucking like it.
I like how dirty I feel.
I like being a vessel for his pleasure.
I dig my nails into my skin to contain the desire building in my core. To keep from gagging.
I look up at him, watching his dark eyes fill with pleasure, watching his lips part with a groan.
"Fuck, Kaylee." He tugs at my hair.
His movements get harder, faster. He's close.
And then he's there, filling my mouth. He tastes good and it feels good, knowing I brought Brendon all that pleasure.
Once I'm sure he's spilled every drop, I swallow hard.
He reaches down to take my hands. Then he pulls me up and presses my body against his.
His lips find mine. His tongue claims my mouth.
I can't get it out of my head. This is Brendon, the guy I've wanted for so long, the person I've trusted for so long.
And he wants me too.
Trusts me too.
He pushes my shorts to my knees as he breaks the kiss. "Sit on the couch and spread your legs."
I stumble, falling back onto the soft couch. I've sat here a hundred times. No, a thousand.
But never like this.
Brendon's dark eyes light up as he takes a long look at me. He moves closer. Closer.
Then he's kneeling in front of me.
He pulls my shorts off my feet. His hands close around my thighs, just above my knees.
In one swift motion, he pushes my legs apart. My knees press into the slick leather fabric of the couch. I fall onto the cushion.
Brendon drags his lips up my inner thigh. Closer. Closer. Closer.
There.
His lips brush against me.
My thighs fight his hands. I want more. I want all of him.
But I also want to give myself to him.
I want to be his.
He teases me mercilessly. He blows hot air against my clit. Then cold. Then he's brushing his lips against me. Then it's slow flicks of his tongue, so soft I can barely feel them. He gets every inch of me.
Pleasure builds in my core. I'm ready to overflow, but he's not pushing me towards the edge. He's only building my need.
"Please." I tug at his hair.
Still, he teases me. His tongue stays soft and slow. The pleasure is diffuse. It's everywhere. I feel good in a way that hurts. In a way that begs for release.
"Brendon, please." I press my legs against his hands.
His grip stays firm. He looks up at me, his brown eyes on fire. "You'll come when I say you come, angel."
The edge to his voice makes my sex clench. I can't believe it, but I want him in control of my orgasm.
I can't believe how much I'm willing to give myself to him.
How deeply I trust him.
Still, he teases me. I tug at his hair and press my thighs against his hands. It does nothing to contain how badly I need release. I'm wound up. I'm close. And I desperately need to go over the edge.
It's like he can read me. His motions get harder. Faster. He takes his time ramping up his speed and pressure. The intensity makes it feel like hours pass.
He goes faster.
Harder.
His soft, wet tongue is heaven.
His fingers curl into my thighs as he licks me.
The tension in my sex builds to a crescendo. Almost. So fucking close.
There.
With the next flick of his tongue, I unravel.
I groan. I writhe. I tug his hair hard enough to rip it out.
He holds me in place, still flicking his tongue against me. It's too much pressure. I can't take it.
"Brendon." I try to press my legs against him, but his grip is too firm.
I'm staying on this couch, his mouth on me, as long as he wants me here.
Unless I say tattoo.
>
Then he'll release me.
I trust him to release me.
Fuck, the pressure is intense. I can barely take it. But I can. As painful as it is, I don't want him to stop.
He flicks his tongue against me. His motions get harder. Faster. It's still intense. It still hurts. But now the pleasure outweighs everything else.
I get lost in the bliss growing inside me. A few more flicks of his tongue and I'm there.
I scream his name as I go over the edge.
I shake. I writhe. I tug at his hair.
I feel my orgasm all the way to the tips of my toes.
This time, Brendon releases me. He pushes himself up, takes my hands, and pulls me into his arms.
His touch gets soft and gentle as he runs his fingers through my hair.
Right now, I really do want to let him take care of me.
For the afternoon.
For the entire day.
Maybe even forever.
Chapter 7
I've taken a hundred showers at Emma's place, but it's never been like this.
Brendon's chest is pressed against mine. He's warm and wet, and the intimacy of the two of us together in this tiny space has my head spinning.
He squirts shampoo into his hands and combs it through my hair. Then he switches places with me, so I can tilt my head back to rinse my hair.
We do the same with conditioner. He takes his time soaping every inch of me. It makes his touch slick and smooth. I want more of it. I want all of him.
I want Brendon taking care of me.
We linger in the shower, without words, for the better part of an hour.
I thought I loved Brendon like a friend.
But it goes deeper than that.
Much deeper.
He turns off the shower, pulls me into the bathroom, and wraps a towel around my shoulders.
I keep it loose as I move into the bedroom. This is the master bedroom. It belonged to Emma and Brendon's parents once. It took him years to move into the room, but it's his now.
It's perfect for him. The slate grey walls are adorned with framed artwork. The style is modern with saturated colors and bold lines. It's the fine art version of a tattoo.
The bed has a four-poster steel frame. Perfect for tying someone up.
For tying me up.
Like in his drawing.
I swallow hard.
I want that.
I can't believe how much I want that.
Begging for Bad Boys Page 26
