I wanted to make him do that a hundred times. A thousand times. I wanted to be stamped so deeply inside of him that he thought of me every single time he came, even if I wasn’t there. I wanted him to know he was mine, no matter who was making him scream.
Why did I feel so possessive over someone I was purposefully sending away?
“Stop,” Brody said and I froze, wondering if maybe he’d somehow figured out what I was thinking, if he’d been disgusted by it and me and wanted me gone. But he just turned under me, laying on his back and then confidently lifting his legs for me, holding his knees against his chest and giving me a look that begged me to continue.
The only thing I could do was comply.
I pushed into him again with little resistance, groaning as his tight channel enveloped me. He was so hot and perfectly fitted, like a glove that was made for me, giving me the most possible pleasure. I looked at his face, at how he threw his head back and screwed his eyes shut at the overwhelming sensations flowing over him, and I had a sudden, stunning revelation that this was the only thing I ever wanted. Forever. No one else.
Just him.
I came with a shout, filling the condom when I had planned to carry on, the realization of our total and complete compatibility rocking me to my core.
I pulled out as the afterglow rolled over me, sitting back on my haunches and panting for breath, unable to think or breathe or even understand where I was anymore.
What was happening to me?
“Let me,” Brody said, his voice sweet and coy, and I felt him reach down to pull the condom off for me. He disappeared into the bathroom, giving me a moment to myself.
No. It hadn’t been as perfect as I thought. It couldn’t have been.
It was the heat of the moment – the unbelievable chaos of emotions and hormones that were unleashed during sex. The hottest sex I’d ever had. That was all – just pure, unadulterated sex tricking my brain, making my animal core think that it had no other option. Evolutionary imperative, even if a bit misplaced.
That was all it was.
Right?
Because I couldn’t. I couldn’t be with Brody. He already knew that himself. I couldn’t let myself get sucked into the whirlpool that was his bad reputation, and he didn’t even want to be with someone as messed up as me anyway.
I’d all but guaranteed that when I did the stupid thing of telling him about my past this morning.
I was doing a lot of stupid things lately.
This was it. Today, tonight. In the morning, we were leaving. Going home.
Alone.
I was probably not going to see him again until the wedding – which was admittedly only a week away, but it was abigwedding. Keaton and Olly had a lot of friends, a lot of family. I could easily get lost in that crowd and never have to face Brody again.
And after that… when?
We were adults. Growing into different lives. The people we hung around with in college were drifting away from us, and I hadn’t even hung around with Brody all that often anyway.
It would be easy to never see him again.
The thought lodged in my heart like an icepick, making it hard to breathe for a moment.
“We should get back,” Brody said, moving towards where I’d dropped his trunks, clearly getting ready to leave.
I reached out and grabbed his hand.
If we only had today, then today needed to count.
“Wait,” I said. “Fuck me back.”
Brody blinked at me. “What?”
“You didn’t cum,” I said, sitting up on my knees so I had the leverage to pull him closer to me. “Please. Fuck me.”
