20. Braxton
20
brAXTON
S ofia has been over regularly to visit Birdie. She insists that I stop paying her, so I make her dinner. It’s a strange in-between place we’re sitting in since we crossed that line to sex. A memory I play on repeat, improving on it, progressing it.
But after I saw the rough cut she did and how she kept what we did in there—even the barest hint of it… Fuck, it drove me mad.
Almost as mad as seeing that new film professor flirting with her, and the way Cedric responded to her in our meeting. It’s building and building inside me.
I’ve become obsessed.
Yet, since I saw her in her advisor’s office, we haven’t had the time to unpack it. To either shut it down or proceed with what we’ve started.
I want more of her—of her touch, of her skin, of her mouth and her smiles, of her staying late or maybe over. If I allow myself, I’ll tumble down the rungs of a relationship with her before she takes the first step.
She’s upstairs with my daughter. I can hear their giggles through the floor. My happiness is a kind of anguish. I just want to know what my boundaries are.
When she comes downstairs, Sofia pauses in the kitchen where I’ve been lurking.
“Hey,” she says, looking me over.
“Hey. You two are done?” My voice is gruffer than I intend.
I get a smile from her, though. “Yeah. You get all your work done tonight?”
“I did.” Clearing my throat is loud and sounds aggressive. The downfall to being a big man. “Would you like to stay for a drink? Do you need a ride home?”
Sofia sets her bag down in one of the kitchen chairs and closes much of the space between us. “I can stay for a drink. I haven’t texted Dad yet.”
Is that an opening she’s offering me? It feels like one.
I grab her a glass and pour her a finger of whiskey, refilling my own with two. She playfully clinks our glasses together before taking a sip. I’m much slower, stuck watching her and packing away every morsel I can grab.
“What?” she asks.
“What?”
“You’re smiling.”
For some reason, that makes me laugh. It does nothing to dampen the tension. I shrug. “Sometimes, you’re so full of life that I feel imbued with it.”
Her laughter is a caress. I down my whiskey and set the glass aside.
“Did I overstep last time?” It’s an abrupt question, but I need to know the answer.
Her glass clinks on the counter, too, and I follow the movement. “No. Not at all.”
Prodded forward, I step into her space, trapping her against the counter and brushing our noses together. “Then this is okay?”
Incredible how right it feels. How such a small bit of contact can both settle and invigorate me.
Sofia tips up, pressing her mouth against mine in a soft, tentative sweep.
Fuck, yes. The relief sways my body into hers, a light pressure that makes me glad my palms are firmly planted on the counter behind her hips. I want to enjoy this sweet, slow kiss, the way she so easily twists me up with the simplest touch.
When her mouth opens and our tongues touch, tentative and slow dissolve. Sofia’s hands crawl up me, pulling at my shirt. My hunger defeats my common sense. Hands circling her hips, I lift her to the edge of the counter and step between her thighs.
Her grip on me changes, her legs coming around my waist in a silent invitation that sends me reeling. Rocking us together elicits a small moan in the back of her throat. God, I remember that sound.
I slide my touch up her back, delighting in her shiver. When my fingers tangle in the ends of her hair, I tug her head back and drop kisses along her neck.
Nails dig into my shoulders. I’m so fucking hard that it hurts. Would she let me carry her upstairs to my bedroom? Is that too presumptuous?
I nibble on her earlobe and whisper her name against her damp skin.
“Brax.” Her voice is so soft that the baser parts of me thaw, ready to want things that I haven’t in such a long time. “I think the smart move here is to take me somewhere with more privacy.”
She’s right. The shower has just shut off, which means Birdie will be stepping out of it any minute. “Hold on.”
Her hold on me tightens as I lift her in my grasp and do exactly what I hoped to. I carry her up to my room. The door snaps shut, and I push her against it, reveling in how much of her is pressed against all of me.
Sofia, as sexy as she always is, touches me sweetly, caressing the side of my face and smirking at me.
“Did you like that show of masculine strength, Sofia?”
That cracks a bigger smile across her face. “I did. This one, too. I’m not petite.”
“You’re the perfect armful.” I grumble it under her ear, right where I know it catches her breath, and it does, curling her nails into my shoulders again. “I love that noise you make that’s almost silent.”
Nipping her has her gasp and arch to expose her throat to me. I feast on her exposed flesh until she’s wriggling in my hold.
I turn and march us to my bed, letting her bounce gently beneath me. Those pretty blue eyes peer up at me, darkening as her pupils blow wide. Her blonde hair spreads across my dark comforter, and I can’t resist running my fingers through it.
She shines as she laughs without making a noise, fingers splaying across my cheek before she lifts to kiss me again.
I must still have the skills I had as a lad because she wiggles, arches, squeezes her knees around me. Before long, we’re dry humping each other, our bodies fitting together perfectly.
Cradling the back of her head, I’m nibbling my way down her exposed chest. “I want you naked, under me.”
“Well, we’re halfway there. What’s holding you back?” The need in her voice builds my confidence.
“I don’t want to presume,” I murmur against her breastbone.
“Here’s your permission. Show me what you’ve got.”
My head dips to her chest as I let out a hard laugh. She giggles with me, more so when I rear back and strip her shirt off her. A thin pink slip of a bra holds in her ample bosom, and I test the bounds with my hands, kneading her gently.
I’ll strip that off her after I get these jeans off her. They’re tight, but a few sharp tugs have me gathering the fabric in my hands and tossing them over the corner of the bed.
Her panties match, and I can just make out the small dark patch of her trimmed pussy beneath. I bend to press my mouth over her covered mound, kissing and laving the tender spot at the apex of her sex.
A shaky moan has my muscles tightening. I want to be inside her when she comes this time.
I rear back over her, and I must look wild with the way her eyes widen. Then, her hands are pushing my shirt up under my arms so that I have to aid her in removing it. I eagerly do so, soaking in the way her touch smooths over my torso.
It only takes a minute to shed the rest of our clothes, and I’m nestled between her thighs. Her palms spread across my chest and shoulders as her bare legs squeeze around me. The heat of her core as she cups me against her folds has me quaking with my need to claim her.
With a few rotations of my hips, I’m in place to glide inside her, and the tilt of her hips has me pushing in. Fuck. She’s tight. Wet. I want all of her. Every inch.
We glide together, bodies in sync, working to have me fill her up completely. It takes a few thrusts to seat myself, and when I pause, I feel her clamp down on me.
Sofia seems to revel in the groan I drop against her neck. Her hand splays across the back of my head. I suppose she likes all the little things I do with my mouth.
Slowly, we rock against each other again, building a rhythm that’s steady and so fucking good. I could make this hard and quick, but I want to enjoy every little nuance and pleasure point I can find. I’m not going to do that by going too fast.
What I will allow myself is to lift above her, sharpening the angle and sending me deeper as I watch her mouth gape from noiseless pleasure. Every thrust sends her breasts bouncing, her hips rocking, and her grip finds my forearms as she holds onto me.
Fuck, her head lifts to watch where we’re joined. She did last time, too, and it turns me on to know she enjoys the view.
Then, I remember her glasses, and I touch them gently.
Her gaze lifts to mine, searching. “Do you mind?”
I shake my head. “No, Soph. I don’t mind, but I wouldn’t say no to getting my hands on some of that footage. It might keep me going between tastes of you.”
The sly look she gives me says she agrees. She lifts her shoulders to kiss me, hard and hungry, until I’ve almost forgotten the absolute turn-on of having every moment of this captured on video. Of her watching the footage back.
When her mouth falls from mine, I brace on my palms, and the right angle and the right force have her mouth open in pleasure, the wet slap of my hips against her thighs echoing between us.
Fuck, Sofia is so goddamn sexy.
I reach down for her knee and shift the angle of her hips. The low groan she gives me tells me I’ve found what I’m looking for. Her body coils tight, and I’m relentless, not pounding but giving her enough force that her eyes roll back.
Yes. Fucking yes, Soph. Come for me.
She whines like I’ve been whispering those words to her like a prayer. And maybe I have been.
Her orgasm hits her hard, making her rigid and then fluid until I slow to a soft rocking.
“So fucking beautiful when you come.”
Her whimper prompts a pout, which I kiss away.
“It’s one of my new favorite things.”
Laughter squeezes her around me, and I groan.
“God, you’re still so hard.”
“That’s right, love. I’m not done with you yet.”
The naughty grin lighting up her features has me glowing inside, too. I’m completely enamored with her. And there’s nothing that can change that.