Chapter 17
Ryan
I pushed the laptop away, leaning back in my chair—Brooklyn’s chair, up on her terrace, where she’d promised I could stay here and write my days away all I liked, and I’d been making good on that promise. Except now I was stumped, finding myself staring away from the screen and out at the long, bulky clouds drifting over the edges of the ocean, far on the horizon.
Not even stuck on the writeup, a thousand sources and documents I was working into compiling into one overarching story I’d been working on as a deep dive into systemic corruption and abuse in women’s shelters. That was fine, just coming along slowly in the face of everything. I was stuck on something much harder: a personal update.
I always made a point to stay professional with my readership and try to separate my life and work life, but there were always, inevitably, parts of my personal life that slipped through—a mention of taking time away to attend a family wedding, how work would be slower while I was moving apartments, and of course, references to my partner, all of which were quite… outdated now.
I only ever used that word, partner. Not to be gender-neutral—I referred to him as him freely—but because saying my boyfriend felt like I was fifteen years old. Looking at it from that angle, maybe it wouldn’t be the strangest thing to have a woman for a partner, say something about spending a weekend with a partner and her family. I’d entered into all of this with Brooklyn just to experience what it would be like with a woman before I went back to the real world, but now I burned with indignation at the thought that I’d just have to stuff it all back away into a corner, go pretend to be a good heterosexual woman.
Of course, I didn’t like to think about when I left, anyway. I was finding myself increasingly attached to Brooklyn, and increasingly reluctant to wrap this up tidily with a bow on top. But… well. We weren’t exactly in the right places in life to do anything more than that.
Which brought me back to my problem: I had no idea how to describe my life situation in a professional context right now. What could I say that I would feel right sending into people’s email inboxes?
By way of distraction, I went and busied myself with my phone, at just the right moment—or maybe at just the wrong moment—to see a text come in from Shane.
Ryan, please talk to me, it’s important
I sighed, pushing the chair back and standing up, walking to the edge of the terrace and leaning out, looking over the water, palm trees swaying on either side like a perfect framing shot for a tropical paradise marketing campaign. I knew I should have ignored him, like I’d been doing—not even opening his dozen messages since I’d broken up with him—but maybe it was the antsy feelings thinking about the bigger picture of my life right now that provoked me into responding.
I think I’ve already told you everything you need to hear
He wasted no time in typing, We should meet and talk in person
I wrinkled my nose. I don’t feel like it
He called. I declined it, and he called again, and I don’t know how he got under my skin so easily, but it got to me enough to pick up. “What do you want?” I sighed, and he spoke curtly.
“Ryan, your aunt is getting the police involved.”
Of course she was. I drummed my fingers on the railing. “Well, if an officer comes around looking for me, I’ll say hi. Nothing they can really do.”
His voice was explosive when he said, “Do you think of anybody but yourself? Your entire family is devastated and a whole vacation is ruined because you’re running away for casual sex like a petulant teenager?”
I smiled. “Oh, it’s not casual sex. It’s some very intense sex.”
I heard him draw in a shaky breath down the line, struggling to let it out slowly. “Ryan, for the sake of your whole family, I’m begging you to come to your senses and act like an adult.”
“I thought you were leaving the island? Changed your mind?”
“I’m stuck here cleaning up your fucking mess.”
“That’s not true,” I said lightly. “Brooklyn and I clean up our own fucking-related messes.”
He was quiet for a second before he said, “I thought you were better than this.”
I laughed. “Well, that’s on you. I’m definitely much worse. Anything else I can help you with?”
“What’s it going to take? What are you going to be satisfied with? What do you want from me? From all of us?”
“From you, to get out of my life and stay out. From my family, mostly some apologies.”
“I used to have a lot of respect for you,” he said quietly, and I snorted.
“You very much did not. If you respected me, you wouldn’t have cheated. And even if you did—I’d rather have my own respect than yours, Shane. I’m hanging up now. Bye.”
“If you were—” he started, but I was a woman of my word—I hung up, slipping the phone into my pocket and turning with a bit more pep in my step, getting back to the computer and sitting down, deleting everything from my little personal update and starting over.
Not to get too much into the details, but my life is a little upside-down right now. Vacation went sideways when my partner cheated on me, and I broke up with him, much to the dismay of my family.
I wrote a few more lines, a nervous bubbling feeling in my chest, and I didn’t think twice before I sent it out. It was Brooklyn’s authenticity that I’d admired so much, and maybe I just wanted to try it out for myself. See where it would get me. I’d almost toyed with the idea of just throwing on by the way, I’m bisexual to the end of it, but I felt like if I did, then people would suspect I was dating a woman, and—well, it wasn’t totally accurate to say I wasn’t, but it wasn’t totally accurate to say I was , either.
I’d cross that bridge when I came to it. For now, I shut my laptop, stretching my arms over my head, and I took the steps down to head in through the back door, making myself comfy in Brooklyn’s bungalow. I’d packed up my things from my barely-used hotel room and brought them here, requiring very little insisting on Brooklyn’s part, and I’d quickly made the space my own—stepped out of my shoes and put on the kettle for some coffee, helped myself to some mixed nuts from her cabinet, and for some reason, I even found myself cleaning her kitchen a little bit, wiping down counters and inside the microwave once I’d heated up the milk for the little instant-coffee flat whites that were fast becoming my favorite coffee, the taste reminding me of Brooklyn. Took the coffee in a travel mug and found myself wandering out the back door, pulling on the flats I had on the back porch next to Brooklyn’s, wandering off through the trees and foliage behind the house and following a little dirt trail.
I strolled for a bit, taking in the fresh ocean air and sunshine that felt different on my neck with my hairstyle different, and I wound up on a little bluff overlooking the ocean, sipping coffee sitting on a smooth stone with a view of the people spread out on the beach below me, and I thought I liked this place a little too much.
I’d probably have liked to come back here, even after we left. I just didn’t know how to justify it. Nor how I would look Brooklyn in the eye after I’d left and come back. She’d said that the most serious thing she’d had was with a woman who’d visited here regularly, but… there wasn’t any reason I was thinking about that right now.
My thoughts were pleasantly diverted when I got back to the bungalow just in time to see Brooklyn’s car pulling into the front, a glimpse of it through the thick foliage at the side of the house, and I diverted to lean against the fence, enjoying the scenery and watching Brooklyn step out of the car, shifting a bag up on her shoulder. Finished off the coffee as she headed into the house, and I heard her call my name from inside, and I waited until she’d shut the front door before I called, “I’m out back.”
The back door slid open, and she hopped off the porch, rounding on me with an incredulous look. “Did you just creep on me the whole way into the house and not say anything?”
I held up the mug. “Not only that, but after stealing your coffee, too.”
“You’re a little monster,” she said, but she didn’t seem that mad, judging by the playful smile on her lips and how she walked up to me, pushed me back up against the fence, and kissed me long and slow, one hand slipping up into my hair and tousling the chopped locks. Her eyes gleamed when she pulled back. “You’re lucky I think you’re cute.”
“Trust me, I feel extremely lucky. Especially given how your bag seemed to have something in it and you’d promised me a surprise?”
“Mm.” She let her hands fall to my hips, resting her forehead on mine. “Glad to know you’ve been thinking about it after all.”
“Did you think I wouldn’t?”
She smiled wider. “No. But I like hearing about it.” She kissed me quickly, stepping back with a more serious look on her face. “I do have something, but… it might not be the time, because I’ve got a bit of a mood kill first. Your mother asked me to pass on a message.”
I wrinkled my nose, something cold coiling up in my chest. “I heard about the police. I plan on telling them I’m here fully of my own volition.”
She raised her eyebrows high. “The police? Did your aunt actually go through with it?”
“Is that not what it’s about?” I slumped back against the fence. “Shane begged me to call him, and for some reason he got through to me enough for me to answer… he said Aunt Helena had the police looking now. But I’m also noticing that he just says things, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he made it up to make me capitulate. Either way, I’m not afraid of them coming around asking about me. I’ve had police in my face before.”
She shook her head, hands in her pockets. “Well, your aunt did come around too, rattling off some vague threats about how I was a criminal mastermind hiding you from your family. I told her to pound sand. But that’s not what it was about.”
I bit down on a smile. “Aunt Helena loved that, I bet.”
“Oh, absolutely. Jumping for joy.”
“What did Mom say?”
She sighed. “That she wants to make things better. That she’s sorry she made you feel this way.”
Ugh… I was probably supposed to feel something big one way or the other. I looked away. “Huh.”
“On the one hand, she did seem to understand that she was wrong. On the other hand, she looked like she’d rather take a bullet in the brain than admit that out loud.”
“Hm.” I sighed. “Well, good to know.”
“She said that she’ll be there if you want to go and talk about it, and that she’ll try to listen. I told her I would pass along the message and that was it, so, obviously, I’m not pressuring you to do anything one way or the other.”
I shrugged. “I guess I have to. The situation’s not going to magically go away. But… that sounds like a tomorrow thing,” I said, dropping my hands to her waist, tugging on the belt loops of her dark jeans. “In the meantime, I’d love to take my mind off things with you kissing me again.”
A gleam passed over her expression, and she stepped in closer, her hips pressing against mine. “You want to know something I like about you, Ryan?”
“Those sound like some of my favorite words in this language. Hit me.”
“You’re so… mature and responsible, but not in the way people always say those things to talk about not having fun or denying your own wants. You just know what the situation needs, but you’re not beholden to what other people want you to do. And that’s really damn sexy.”
I bit my lip under a sudden flush of self-consciousness, suppressing a nervous laugh. “Yeah?” I said. “Funny you should say that… I’ve been called immature a lot lately.”
She slipped a hand to the back of my neck, smiling wider as her lips approached mine. “By people whose opinions truly could not matter less.”
“Mm. I like that…” I softened into her, met her as her lips found mine, slipped a hand to her back, and my heart thumped just a little too fast. This probably wasn’t good… it felt a little too serious. A little too real. A little too much like I was getting addicted to the way she made me feel.
I guess that was a later problem, too, though, wasn’t it? For now, she was here, and I was here, and I could really do with her body. Against mine, specifically.
“So,” I said breathily, pulling back just a fraction from her lips, brushing locks of her hair back from our faces, “are you going to tell me about that surprise, or what?”
She bit her lip, smiling as she cracked her eyes, looking at me with smoldering desire. “It’s something I thought you’d look good in.”
I laughed, a jolt in my chest, and I slipped my hand to her hip, hooking a leg up around her, leaning back against the fence for support. “Brooklyn. Did you buy sexy underwear to put me in?”
“You don’t have to wear it. But I won’t lie, I’ll be happy if you do.”
I’d probably have been outraged if Shane had bought me lingerie. Is this supposed to be a gift for me, because all I’m seeing is that you want me to dress up and have sex with you. But with Brooklyn, it was a completely different feeling, like I was the sexiest and most desirable woman on the planet.
Of course, it might have just been that I wanted to have sex with her and, it turned out, I’d never really wanted to have sex with him. Sometimes it was just that simple.
“You can put me in,” I started, slipping my hand under her shirt, touching the soft skin of her waist, “or take me out of, whatever you like.”
She laughed, a low and throaty sound, as her eyes darkened. “If you want to do this right now, I also want to, but if you keep putting your hands up my shirt like that, then it might end up being a little too right-now. I assume you don’t want me to get you off in my backyard, against the fence.”
I bit my lip, laughing through it. “As opposed to the front yard, against the hood of the car?”
“Do not tempt me. I don’t want to get arrested. If it weren’t for that, I’d happily fuck you in full view of the world, if it means I get to show you off.”
“Well, I wouldn’t call this full view of the world from here…” I slipped my hand up higher under her shirt, cupping over her bra, and she let out a low growl, eyes narrowing. She didn’t pull away, though. So really, she couldn’t complain.
“Ryan…”
I batted my eyelashes, slipping my hand into her bra, down to brush my fingertips over her nipples. “Yes, Brooklyn?”
“You,” she murmured, putting a hand on my waist, “are trouble.”
I bit down on a smile. “And what are you going to do about that trouble, Brooklyn?” I said, drawing her name out longer as I teased my fingertips over her nipple, and she pushed out a heavy breath, a hazy smile finding her lips.
“Probably this,” she murmured, sliding a hand down over the front of my pants, and I felt my awareness get fuzzy when her hand slipped over my center, a shudder racing up my spine and a moan falling from my lips.
And I almost dropped the coffee tumbler. I’d forgotten I was holding it.
“God, Brooklyn,” I gasped, breath heavy so much faster than I was ever used to. I didn’t know what to do with the fact that my body required about two seconds of foreplay with this woman. Well, I knew exactly what to do with that fact. “Okay—we should—let’s get inside.”
She smiled wider. “Oh, losing our cool now, are we?” she said, pressing her fingertips against me and grinding in slow circles, and my legs quivered, threatening to give out.
“Brooklyn… Brooklyn, oh, god. I’m going to fall over.”
She bent down and kissed my neck before she pulled away, leaving me slightly more balanced but desperately needing her back now. “Inside, then,” she said. “Help yourself to what’s in my bag. And I’ll be along shortly.”
God, I loved it when she just… told me what to do. No brusqueness, no arrogance, just total cool confidence, this is what I want. I desperately wanted to just strip myself naked the second we got in the door and let her have me, but it was more exciting, somehow, in not letting myself have what I wanted just yet. So with my whole body tingling, coursing with awareness, I went inside and opened her bag on the counter, breath catching in my throat at the sight of the outfit inside.
A lot of black lace, a lot of sheer fabric. And lavender trim.
Something about the lavender accents shot a bolt straight to my core—the color Brooklyn liked. The color she wanted to decorate me in, like she was marking me as hers.
Okay, well—the amount of sexy that was, that was probably a personal revelation for another time. For now, I took them to the bedroom, my body aching for Brooklyn as I stripped my clothes off, pulling on the outfit, taking a minute to adjust it all in front of the mirror, turning slowly. I felt like I’d break seeing myself like this—dressed up like a pretty little present for Brooklyn in her favorite color.
I spread myself out on the bed, and I couldn’t help slipping a hand between my thighs, touching myself slowly, lightly—indulging in the heat that coursed through my body and fantasies of the woman in the next room, and her timing was perfect—the door unlatched and swung open, and Brooklyn stepped inside, having lost her shirt and her shoes, down to her jeans and a sports bra. She leaned against the doorframe, looking me over, a flare of desire in her eyes, and I felt the arousal spike higher as I kept going, hand between my legs going faster with her watching.
“God, you’re so fucking gorgeous,” she said, her voice low, hungry.
“Are you going to do something about this, or what?” I murmured, and her eyes glinted.
“I think I might,” she said, pushing off from the doorframe and coming towards me, climbing onto the bed with a sexy crawl on top of me. “I was thinking about you… about this… all day at work,” she murmured, running a hand over my front, and I arched into it, twitching under the touch, a gasp falling from my lips. “Thinking about how badly I need to fuck your pretty body, make you come, and again, and again—”
“ Brooklyn. ”
“And of course, to get my fill of you. You have no idea how much you turn me on.” She gave me a little pout. “Shame I won’t get my fill.”
“What?”
“We do have somewhere to be.”
I’d… forgotten. I felt my face prickle with a blush, and she smiled wider.
“So consider this your warmup round. To get your body ready for all the things I’m going to do to you later tonight.”
“God, you’re so fucking hot,” I groaned, rolling my head back against the pillow. “Brooklyn, please…”
“Oh, I won’t make you plead much. I can’t take one more second of looking at you like this and not help myself.” She lowered herself onto me, pressing her lips against mine, kissing me slowly and deeply, hot and wet, languid against my tongue and my lips as she roamed her hand over my body, leaving sparks in her wake everywhere she went. I ached for her, lifting my hips, seeking her, but she teased me—slipped her hand to my thigh, up along my waist, down to my other thigh, inching close to the lines of the thin lace panties she’d gotten me, but didn’t touch. I gripped her tighter into me, rocking my hips, and I dug my fingertips underneath the band of her bra, tugging up.
She broke from the kiss to allow it, letting me pull her bra off over her head, and I wasted no time dropping my hands to her pants, unbuttoning her jeans, tugging the zipper down. She grabbed my hand before I could pull her pants down, and, a gleam in her eyes where she met mine, she pushed my hand down into her pants, inside her underwear, up against where she was so wet for me that it was slick all over my fingers the second I touched her.
“Oh, Brooklyn,” I gasped. “Oh, god.”
“Keep going,” she said, her voice low, angling to get my hand in a better position against her, eyes darkened as she kept looking into mine. “That’s it, babe. Show me you want this.”
“I want you so badly,” I moaned, thrusting my hips up against her as I moved my fingers along her, the sensation of it—of her wetness covering my hand, thick over my fingers—it drove me out of my mind. “Please, Brooklyn.”
“Well, since you asked so nicely.” She slid off of me, and I watched raptly as she tugged her pants and her underwear down together, down to her knees and shimmying them off of her. The sight of her kneeling over me on the bed, naked and ready, sent bolts of heat racing to my core, and without even thinking about it, I lifted the hand that I’d just had in her pants up to my lips, licking her wetness off of me. Brooklyn’s eyes flared with desire watching it, slipping a hand to my thigh and feeling down towards my center. “Keep going,” she said, her voice a low rasp, once I took my fingers away from my mouth. “I want to see you take every last drop.”
I did as she told me—I didn’t think I could find it in me not to. I held eye contact with her while I pushed two fingers deep into my mouth, the hot and heavy taste of her driving me deeper into this trance where I’d do anything she asked, and she rewarded me with her hand slipping over the front of my underwear, caressing my center through the coarse fabric. I gasped, her name on my lips muffled against my hand, and when I rocked my hips up against her, she gave me what I wanted this time, slipping her hand down inside my underwear and running her fingers through my folds. I kept going, dutifully licking her off my fingers, and she rewarded me every step of the way with her fingers circling over my clit before dipping inside me.
I’d never been much for penetration before, never really feeling like much, but Brooklyn—her fingers undid me instantly until it felt like I didn’t know how to survive without her inside me, reaching deep and touching all the spots I didn’t even know could feel like that. When she moved her other hand to flick side-to-side over my clit, I was useless to hold out much longer, and I held her smoldering eye contact as long as I could while I shoved my fingers deeper into my mouth, sucking on them, taking every last taste of her wetness as she pushed me into a shaking, throbbing orgasm.
I also didn’t recognize the way I came back down from it—I’d always been one to crash down exhausted, sweaty, a little dazed but satisfied, but the past couple of times with Brooklyn, it felt like I only came halfway back down, my body immediately ready for more. I kept rocking my hips against her, seeking more, but she took her hands away, leaving me gasping and feeling hungry for her. She took my hand by the wrist, pulling it out of my mouth, and I pleaded, “Brooklyn, I want…”
She smiled wider. “I know, babe,” she said, running her hand up my front. “And I want you to sit in that while I take everything I want from you.”
“Oh, god.”
“Lie back. Now that you’ve been good and gotten your mouth ready for me, I’m going to use it to get myself off.”
I whimpered, desperate and helpless to do anything other than give her whatever she wanted, and I settled back on the bed, opening my mouth for her, tongue out, desperate, ready. She ran her fingers over my tongue, her other hand slipping between her thighs, and I felt heat spiking through me as she oriented herself on top of me, slipping her hand to the side of my head and holding me in place as she lowered herself against me, and I melted into her—into the taste, the feeling, her hot sex throbbing against my mouth, on my tongue. I gave her all the things I’d been learning she liked, looking up at her and gripping one hand over her thigh while I slid my other between my legs, pleasuring myself while I sucked on her clit, held my lips tight against her moving my tongue to match her as she rocked her hips against me.
“Fuck, yes, you’re so good at that,” she groaned, picking up the pace, grinding on my mouth. “Feels so fucking good with your mouth on my pussy. You want me to come all over your face, don’t you, babe?”
I nodded desperately against her, picking up the pace playing with myself, and she didn’t make me wait too much longer—the pace of her movements on my mouth picked up, faster as she leaned back, propping herself up on one hand, grinding harder against me, and she rolled her head back as she came, hard, throbbing on my mouth. I was so close it took everything I had not to come myself with the sensation of her orgasm against me, but—she’d told me to sit in the feeling, to wait—so I managed, somehow, to hold it together long enough for Brooklyn to come down, slide off of me, and collapse on top of me to kiss me, deep and hot and heavy, her body still grinding against mine.
And when she finally gave me what I needed, it almost made me come instantly—she slid down my body, planting kisses along my body, against my nipples through the lace of the bra, and she positioned herself to press a hot, wet kiss against the front of my panties. I arched my back up against her, hand slipping to the back of her head as I cried out, and when she tugged my underwear down and pressed her face into me, her tongue undid me in what might have been a matter of seconds.
She collapsed on the bed next to me once I was done, eyes gleaming, a thoroughly satisfied smile on her face, and she said, “Good warmup, babe?”
I bit my lip, rolling to face her. “No,” I said. “Not yet.” I slipped a hand down between her legs, slipping through her wetness, and she bit her lip to cut off a low growl.
“Ryan… we’re going to be late if we do this much longer.”
“I don’t care. I need to make you come again.”
“Fuck, that’s hot, though,” she groaned, rolling her head back. “Just… we’ll have to clean up quickly.”
“Anything if it means I get to touch you again,” I said, voice low, as I pulled her into another kiss, tongue finding hers in a slow, hot dance, and picked up the pace with my fingers.
She had a long orgasm this time, throbbing hard against my fingers as she let out crashing, cracking moans that got hoarse by the time she finished, collapsed on the bed, and I lavished kisses over every inch of her, just taking in the fact that I got to have sex with Brooklyn Sterling. Along with the disappointment of the fact that we really had to go but I really wanted to come again.
“You really are trouble,” she said with that little affectionate glow in her voice, flicking my hair back from my face. “I could get addicted to you, you know.”
“Please do,” I said quietly. “And then take as much of me as you like.”
She flicked her gaze down over my body, and back up to my eyes. “That’s dangerous, saying something like that,” she said lightly. “Let’s get a move on. If we’re here for one more second, I’m going to get the strap-on and fuck you face-first into the mattress, and then we’d definitely be late.”
“Mm… something you’ll have to do later tonight, then.”
She laughed. “For starters. Okay, sexy, let’s move.”
Well, if it got us closer to tonight, then I would.