“Damn.”
“Yeah. See ya.” I feel like I’ve made my point.
“If I can walk,” he grumbles.
“Pussy!” I call to him.
“At least I’m getting some.” Touché, motherfucker.
“Please, Lee Lee. Call off your guard dog.” Deacon is whining from our couch with heating pads, ice packs, and a bottle of Motrin in his hands.
“What are you talking about? Did you get hurt?” I don’t step closer to him. I don’t want to crowd him, and we aren’t on those terms.
“God, I’m dying. Brody is trying to kill me because I’m a dick to you. I’ll do your laundry for a month. I’ll clean your bathroom. Fuck, I’ll do your homework.” He sounds like he wants to cry.
Mason and Caden are chuckling, and Saylor is smiling. “What the fuck does Brody have to do with your dilemma?”
“He’s our trainer,” Mason shoots.
What. The. Actual. Fuck.
“He’s your what?”
“Well, he’s my trainer. Deacon’s his bitch. I guess he’s the pretty one out of us.” I know if Deacon could move he’d kick his ass.
“Since when?” I ask.
“A month. That isn’t important. Tell him I was on my knees apologizing. Of course, that’s a lie because I CAN’T FUCKING MOVE.” I may see a tear.
“That’s why you won’t get your man card back. It was a few extra reps, and you’d think you were in a chain gang in a maximum security prison.” Mason has a death wish.
“Okay, bitch. Tomorrow I’ll remind him you and Lee Lee used to fuck.” Deacon is less than candid, but Mason pales, and I do see a tear. He swallows and sits back. He’s suddenly gone mute. “That’s what I fucking thought. It’s just a few extra reps dicksmack.”
I can’t stop the laughter. I have no clue what’s happening, but I catch Saylor’s grin, and she loses it with me. “It’s not funny.” Both Mason and Deacon whine.
“It sure as fuck is. I’m safe, pussies. I wasn’t a dick to his woman, and I didn’t fuck her. Peace.” Caden stands and stretches. He walks by me and stops. “He’s a good one, Lee Lee. He cares.” He kisses my temple and leaves— and I didn’t get to correct him that I’m not Brody’s woman. Mason stands and follows, putting a wide berth between my body and his.
“Tell him I sucked. Fuck, tell him I have a small dick,” he begs.
“So tell him the truth?” Saylor calls. He turns and glares at her.
“Short stop, you kill me.” They slay me with their shit talking.
“Nope, that’s your pencil dick jabbing you in the thigh.” She bends and whispers to Deacon, missing Mason’s mortified look.
“Please, I think he was trying to kill Deacon, and he was just mean to you. I don’t want to think what he’d do to me.” His eyes are huge, and he’s cowering— keeping a good thirty feet from my body.
“I’ll talk to him,” I promise.
“Thank you,” he whisper shouts.
“Wanna hug it out?” I tease.
He jumps back another twenty feet like I’m contagious with an incurable disease. “No. Tell him I rebuffed your advances. Fuck, no don’t tell him you offered to touch me. Shit, just tell him I have a micro penis and couldn’t make you come. Multiple times.”
“You didn’t.” I’m serious, and he knows that. Mason may have been a good lay, but he didn’t bless me with multiples.
“Give me your man card. I make my girl have multiples all the time!” Deacon shouts.
“Night, guys. I’m going to bed.” I head to my room, done with their cock competitions ringing in my ears. I grab my phone and text Brody.
ME: So you have a white horse and all?
Brody: Do what? You drinking?
ME: Deacon can’t move. He’s crying on my couch.
Brody: Did he apologize?
ME: He said to tell you he got on his knees. He didn’t because he can’t move. He smells like a menthol factory with Icy Hot covering every inch of his skin.
Brody: Good.
ME: Please don’t do it again. I need to earn their forgiveness.
Brody: No promises. You’ve earned enough.
ME: Thank you but stop. Oh, and Deacon said to remind you what Mason has done to my body.
Brody: You may wanna arrange an ambulance for him tomorrow. And please no more reminders.
ME: Sorry.
Brody: Have dinner with me?
Me: When?
My phone rings. “Tomorrow,” he says as he hears me breathe.
“Okay.” I smile. “What time?”
“I’ll pick you up at eight,” he informs me.
“Can I meet you? I have therapy.” He sighs.
“One day I’ll take you on a proper date.” I smirk.
“Sounds good.”
“Meet me at Logan’s.”
“Sounds good.”
“Night, Embe.” I sigh.
“Brody?”
“Yeah, babe.”
“Thank you. Keep it up and I’ll replace your white horse with a unicorn.”
His soft laughter makes my stomach flutter. “If it’d make you trust me I’d find one for you.”
“Baby steps. This is nice.”
“This is better than nice.” He assures me he’s feeling the same.
“Can we keep this silent?” I’m guarded with him.
“Whatever you need, I’ll give it to you.” He doesn’t sound happy.
“Okay. See you tomorrow.”
I arrive at therapy tense yet excited for the latter part of my night. “Did you do your homework, Emberlee?” I refrain from rolling my eyes— barely.
“She always did her homework. You were up for valedictorian.” Yes, father, until I was dumb enough to get involved with Brody. My dinner doesn’t seem so appealing after that reminder. That’s the thing with wounds— reopening them allows them to fester all over again.
“Yet another disappointment to you.” His eyes widen, and he rubs his chin. My Dad perplexed isn’t something I’m used to.
“No, you weren’t.” He squints his eyes. “Timing makes sense because I know the facts.” Mortified. He knows it was over a boy. Man. Whatever. Fucking Brody.
Our session is stilted. I’m pissed. No, I’m hurt. It’s okay to admit that. I hand Dr. Ross my envelope at the end of our session, and he asks me to come early next week so we can discuss it. “No. I’m not ready to discuss it with anyone. I’ll let you know.” He nods, figuring he can’t force this. It’ll have the opposite effect he’s hoping for. I kiss my dad’s cheek, startling us both, “Night, Daddio.” He winks.
“Night, baby girl. Drive safely.” I wave and make my way to the parking garage. Sitting in my car, I contemplate standing him up. I remember how I felt that day he didn’t come back, and I don’t want to inflict that pain on anyone. I’ve wreaked enough havoc and pain to last me a lifetime.
I walk into the restaurant, and he’s waiting at the hostess stand. “Hey beautiful.” I don’t refrain rolling my eyes this time. “Uh, something I said?” He stares at me.
“We’ll talk when we sit down.” My tone is clipped, but I can’t help it. This time I refuse to mask my emotions. I won’t hide what I’m feeling. I’m embracing all my crazy.
“Okay. They said our table was ready, but I wanted to wait here for you.” Why does he have to be thoughtful? Why’d his brain short circuit back in the day— we could have avoided all the unpleasantness.
We follow the girl to our table and sit opposite. “Spill it. You’re upset about something.”
“Tonight my dad brought up my path to become valedictorian and mentioned the timing. It brought up that old shit, and I’m irritable.” I skip my gaze to his and hold it there.
He is silent, and I’m contemplating grabbing my purse and leaving. “Wait.” His eyes dart across my face. “I’m sorry isn’t enough. I’ve said it over and over. I hate that was drudged up and I wasn’t there to make it better. I hate I did it. I can’t change the past.” I sig
h. He’s said it all and coming from him they aren’t just words.
“I know. I’m just exposed there. I feel so raw, like that doctor wants to climb inside me and extract everything. It’s nerve wracking.” I feel vulnerable admitting that. I feel I’m a hot mess for all the issues I carry— I’d be charged the extra baggage fee on an airline. It’s exhausting.
“You have to drop some walls.” I open my mouth to argue. “Babe, I didn’t say tear ‘em all down. Just remove a few bricks.” He smiles, and it makes my stomach roll and my body relaxes.
“Yeah.” I exhale and roll my shoulders. “I’m trying. I feel like it’s all hit me at one time. I’m struggling for a foothold.”
“It has. But when you let shit pile up, it crashes. I’m here to help pick up the pieces.” His words zing to my heart, and I find myself wanting to take his offer. But I can’t. I have to do this.
“Thanks, but you can’t fix it,” I remind myself as well as him.
“I didn’t say I’d fix it. I said I’d help you pick up the pieces. Even if it’s supporting you so you don’t fall.” If I weren’t sitting, I’d stagger.
“You surprise me.” The truth is bouncing from me. He’s working himself back in, and I don’t know if I want to shove him out the door or pull him in the depths with me.
“Good. I know we won’t be boring because I never know what to expect from you.” His wink ends our serious talk. “So did Deacon quit crying?”
I titter. “Yep, but I think Saylor made Mason cry. Those two are hilarious.” He stares at me for a minute, and I wonder if I have something staining my face. “What?”
“Just hoping I get to see them in action one day.” Heart stops. Panties melt. Smile achieved. “There’s the look I love. The one where you’re happy.” I nod because I don’t have words.
Our conversation flows. “When’s Brecklynn coming?” I wonder if I’ll get to meet her.
“Few weeks. She’ll be down for spring break. I’ll need a damn leash for that girl.” I giggle. “I want us to have dinner if you’re okay with meeting her.”
“Yes.” I don’t care how eager I seem. His smile lets me know it was what he wanted to hear.
“She’s locked into a campus tour thing, but we don’t have other plans. I offered to show her the campus, but she wants the whole experience.” He rolls his eyes.
“Minus the frat houses, the tour guide will invite her to visit, and the STDs those couches collect.” He chokes on his steak, and he’s horrified. Poor Brecklynn . . . she has no clue how protective he’s gonna be.
“Fuck, Embe.” He swallows some water. “No. That can’t happen. Maybe I’ll send her to a nunnery.” I laugh because he’s serious.
“Are you Catholic?” I ask while snorting— very ladylike behavior.
“Methodist, but I’ll convert.” He waves his hand like this is a normal conversation.
I can’t help but taunt him. “You know she’s probably had sex. Or she will soon.” I bite my lip to stop the laughter bubbling in my stomach.
“Say shit like that again, and I’ll spank your ass.” His voice is velvet and wraps me in its softness. My cheeks heat, and I’m sure I’ll need no foreplay if he offers to fuck me. Hell, he can keep talking and I’ll get off. His smirk proves he knows where my thoughts are. I see him adjust himself under the booth and crack up.
“We’re hopeless.” I shake my head.
“Nope, you give me hope.” He keeps a straight face with that line.
“I’ll make sure to tell Mason how corny you are. Your man card will be revoked,” I tease.
“Nah, I would make him cry with extra exercises. I’m tempted most days but I have to remember it was my fault we weren’t together. I don’t have a right to be pissed.” I snap my mouth closed. “I’m serious. I don’t have a right to be pissed, but I am. I want to mark every part of your body to erase his touch.”
God, honest and raw Brody is sexy as hell. I reach and take his hand. “It’s in the past. We can bring it up every time, or we can move from it. Maybe we need to build a wall between past and present. I could question you— ask you every place you stuck your dick.” I raise my eyebrows to see how he’d like that. It hits me. Why are we discussing this? “Wait. What are we doing? We’re friends, it shouldn’t matter.”
His laugh is sinister. “Friends?”
“Well, yeah,” I stutter. “Aren’t we?”
“No, baby. We aren’t friends, but when the time is right we’ll make friends. All night long. We’re much more than friends..” Hmm. Swoon. Speechless. Horny.
“Do you have ice cream at your apartment?” He narrows his eyes.
“Maybe. Want to come over?” Yes. God yes. Oh, he asked if wanted to come over not come.
“Cookies and cream?” I’m hopeful.
“I’ll stop and get some.” He pulls his card from his wallet and pays for dinner. We’re in a trance. Staring. Both our tongues wet our lips, and he emits a groan. “You’re making this hard.”
“Isn’t that what it’s supposed to do?” I wink.
He shakes his head. “I don’t want to just fuck you. I want to own you. I want you by my side the next morning. I don’t want to keep having fuck buddy status and you run.” I squeeze my thighs together for friction. I need him to keep talking.
“I can’t promise you anything.” Dumb, Emberlee. That’s a sure fire way to force your vibrator to get a work out.
His eyes hood, and he looks down. “Okay.” He swallows.
“You’re okay with this?” I don’t know what this is, but I hope it ends with him balls deep in me.
“No. But I promised I’d be what you needed.” That isn’t fair to him, and I feel like a bitch.
“But what if I can’t give you what you need?” I cry, thinking that could be true.
“You can. Maybe not today. Or tomorrow. But you’re what I want. I just need to convince you.” He stands and pulls me up. “Follow me.”
I stay attached to his bumper the entire ride to his house. I sit in my car when he stops at the convenience store and buys ice cream. Eleven pints. “Overkill?”
“Nope, this guarantees me eleven nights.” He’s got to quit talking. I stalk to him and seal my lips over his. If I allow him to keep speaking, he’ll make me cave.
He’ll make me his.
Her mouth crashes into mine. I sweep my tongue along the seam until she opens. Our tongues glide, mingling with one another’s until her hands grip the bottom of my shirt and tug up. Ending our kiss, I take the reprieve to sweep her up in my arms. Tonight will happen in a bed.
She glides her fingers over my chest and tugs my dog tags. “You still wear them?”
“Yeah.” I can’t remove them. It makes me feel connected to something that shaped my life for four years. I might not be enlisted, but I still live the code it instilled in me.
Her tongue follows her hands, and I stumble. “Fuck, Embe,” I roar, my cock pulsing against my pants trying to jackhammer its way to her. She opens her mouth for what I’m sure is going to be a flippant comeback. “Don’t.” Call me a pussy; I refuse to allow her to cheapen this. She can tell herself we’re just fuck buddies, but she’s wrong.
I drop her on the bed, watching her tits bounce, and her smile illuminating her face. “Strip for me.” She sucks in a breath but follows my command. Her shirt is tossed, her shoes toed off, and her shorts follow. I strip my shoes off and work my belt. She rises to her knees and throws me a sultry look as I stare at her covered in pale pink. I can see her desire through the scrap of lace covering her pussy. Her hands cover mine and undo my belt, shoving everything down until my cock is level with her mouth.
Her mouth engulfs me, and she teases the head of my dick. Pressing soft kisses, quick flicks of her tongue. “Quit fucking around,” I grab my shaft and feed it to her. Her tongue presses into the slit, licking the hint of pre-come as she runs her tongue over her lips, savoring my taste. Her eyes meet mine as her lips encase me and suck me to the back of h
er throat as she hums. I hiss in pleasure, grabbing a handful of her long hair. My hips thrust shallow, and she takes me deeper, running her tongue underneath.
Her smile shows me she thinks she’s taken control. Ah, sweet girl, not even kind of. I pull from her mouth, and she whimpers at the loss of my cock. “Rest of the clothes off.” I don’t have the patience to help her. One touch of her skin, and I’ll fuck her hard and I want to savor this. Her bra hits me in my face and her giggle floats to me causing me to inhale sharp at her stark beauty. “All of it.” She throws the triangle of scrap at my feet and reveals herself to me.
Unashamed.
Beautiful.
Mine.
I sink to my knees and grab her ankles, pulling her to the edge. “Put your feet on my shoulders and open your legs.” She complies and I reward her with a swipe of my tongue. One taste and I’m gone. Her fingers sink into my hair, and she tugs as I work her with my tongue, taking all she’s giving me. My lips suction her clit as I thrust two fingers in her, angling them up to hit the spot to make her scream.
“BRODY!” I grin against her pussy, pleased with her frustration . . . nowhere near done with her. My fingers continue to thrust as my mouth suctions and my tongue flits over her. I feel her legs tremble and try to close, but she can’t. I take my free hand and push down against her stomach, making her immobile so she has to absorb all I’m giving to her. I feel her walls squeeze my fingers and her screams echoing. I still don’t quit or slow down. “Stop,” she begs. She doesn’t mean it.
“No.” I release her clit and lick her softly, letting her come down before I work her up again. I have her coming against my tongue again, and she’s pliant in my arms, so I scoot her up the bed and grab a rubber. I hate these fucking things. “You on the pill?”
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