Chapter 3
3
JORDAN
H oly shit.
The door closes behind us with a dull sound I barely hear at all. All I can hear is my pounding heart and the sinful sounds of Bronson’s mouth against mine. Each step he takes moves us closer to my bed. Each kiss pushes me even farther over the line.
Don’t bang a bandmate.
I’m breaking the rules.
I’m a rule breaker!
But I don’t have to be. I can stop this now, tell him this was all just a mistake. An exhaustion and stress-fueled mishap we’ll both totally laugh about someday.
Bronson stops us by the bed. His hands drift down my back, coming to rest on my rear, and I laugh.
He tilts his head back, his eyes curious.
“Sorry,” I say, smothering it. “I didn’t mean to laugh. It’s just...” I chuckle, his hands still... there. “You’re touching my butt. Your hands are on my butt.”
“They’re about to be elsewhere,” he says.
I laugh again. “Sorry! That’s just really weird to hear you say.”
“Why?” he asks, kissing me so hard I almost don’t have the breath to even explain.
“Well, you don’t say much,” I say, turning my head and shuddering as he kisses my neck instead. “But here you are. In my hotel room. Kissing me and touching my butt and joking about... your hands in other places.”
“I don’t like to talk.”
He scoops me off the floor and drops me on the bed.
“Yeah, I know,” I say as he follows, his knee pushing between my legs to force them apart. I rest my hands on his muscular chest, then instantly pull them away in shame. “I know you don’t like to talk much, but I talk a lot and I would very much like to have a discussion about this before we do something we’ll regret,” I say, turning my lips away from his.
Bronson stops. He sits back on his knees between my thighs and looks at me expectantly.
I swallow hard, taking my words with it. “Uh...”
He reaches for my shorts.
“Wait wait—” I stop him from pulling them down. “Okay.” I take a deep breath to settle myself. “You want to have sex?”
“Yes.”
“With me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“You look like you need it,” he says.
“What does that mean?” I ask, slightly offended.
“It means my friend is stressed out,” he answers. “Seeing her stressed out stresses me out and sex solves both problems at once.”
“It does?”
Bronson nods.
I exhale hard. “I don’t know. Maybe it would. I mean, Chrissy’s been telling me I need to schedule some fun and—” I scoff. “It’s been a while since I’ve had sex, to be honest. I’m wondering if I even remember how to do it.”
“I’ll remind you.”
“I’m not very good at it.”
“I’m sure you’ll be just fine, Jordan.”
“Are you sure about this?” I ask him. “Sex is a really big deal.”
“No, it’s not.”
I blink. “It’s not?”
He shrugs. “Not the way I do it.”
“How do you do it?” I ask, curious.
“The normal way.”
“What’s the normal way?”
“I get you off. You get me off. We both leave happy.”
I nod slowly. “Yeah, that sounds normal. I guess.”
“Jordan.”
“Hm?”
Bronson studies me. “You’ve had sex before, right?”
“What?” I laugh. “Of course I have, Bronson. You know I have. I’ve just never done it so casually before.”
His head tilts slightly. “Really?”
“No,” I say. “Especially not with someone like you.”
“Like me?”
“A friend,” I explain.
He hums curiously, his muscular form still hovering over me. “Do you want me to leave?” he asks after a moment.
I take a breath. “If you stay, are we going to have sex?”
“That’s the idea, yes.”
“But it would just be sex, right? Just casual, no strings attached sex?”
“There’s another kind?”
I arch a brow. “Bronson.”
“Yes,” he says, cracking a smile. “Casual. No strings attached. Sex.”
“Intercourse.”
“If it helps you to call it that, go nuts.”
I pause, chewing my cheek in thought. Sex. Casual sex. Intercourse. I’ve only ever read about it in dirty romance novels, but I can’t say I’ve never been curious.
Just… never thought I’d ever do it with Bronson.
Strangely, I’m not turned off by the idea, either.
“I think I can do that,” I say.
“Are you sure?” Bronson asks.
“I mean, you have a penis and I have a vagina. So, we’ll fit together. Theoretically.”
“Oh, it’ll fit,” he says, smirking.
I blush. “I didn’t mean it like th?—”
He hooks my shorts impatiently.
“Wait!” I grab Bronson’s wrist, and he stops. “I don’t have protection.”
“I brought some,” he says.
“You did?”
“Condoms.”
I blink. “You just have those on you all the time?”
“I grabbed some on my way out of my room.”
“How many?”
“Four.”
“Four?! Good god, man!”
“I like to be prepared,” he says, half-smiling.
“For a spontaneous water balloon fight?”
Bronson exhales hard through his nose. “Jordan.”
“I’m sorry.” I cover my face with my hands. “This is stupid. Is this stupid? Maybe we should just forget about it.”
I lie back, unmoving, barely even breathing, as I wait for Bronson to leave the bed.
“Jordan,” he says.
Slowly, I uncover my eyes and look at him.
“Do you want to do this?” he asks, calm and strong.
I think about it. I take a moment to really think about it. There are dozens of reasons not to do this, and only one good reason to do it.
It’ll be fun.
Chrissy would be so proud.
“Yes?” I answer.
“That’s not consent.”
“Yes!” I rephrase. “I would like to do this now, please.”
Bronson shifts forward, balancing over me on his arms as he leans in for another kiss.
Then another.
And another.
Each time, he moves a little closer. Soon, our bodies lie flush together, our legs tangled, his hands on my body while I struggle to figure out what to do with mine.
“What do you like?” he asks between long kisses.
“What do you mean?” I ask, burning up.
“In bed,” he says. “What do you like?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Just do what you want, and I’ll?—”
He planks up and stares at me.
“I don’t know!” I say again, my cheeks catching fire. “It’s been a while since I’ve done this.”
He nods, aware of my dating history, but he doesn’t move, silently urging me to think it over and answer the question.
“I liked it when you kissed my neck,” I say after a minute.
Bronson lowers down, his mouth targeting my neck like before. I tremble, the ticklish sensation traveling down my spine, awakening all sorts of throbs.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “That’s good.”
“What else?” he asks, his tongue teasing my earlobe. “Give me a position.”
Oh, dear.
“Uh...” I touch his chest, finding the courage not to pull away again as his ab muscles flex beneath my fingers. “Missionary, I guess,” I say. “But I’m open to others as long as they aren’t too complicated. And I’ve never come from oral, so don’t even try.”
He raises his head at that and stares.
“Seriously,” I say, sensing his challenge. “That requires a level of self-esteem and relaxation that I’m just not capable of.”
I laugh it off, but he simply glares.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing,” he says. “You look really pretty tonight, that’s all.”
I don’t breathe. “Thank you, Bronson.”
He looks at my lips, and he takes them with another wild and deep kiss. This time, when his tongue touches mine, I let it. I let my eyes close. I give myself over to pure animal instinct, feeling every sensation.
His warm skin beneath my fingers.
His masculine smell.
I spread my knees wider, welcoming his body between them. He tilts his lower body, moving it against mine in a slow grind that touches all the right places.
I quiver beneath him, feeling his erection tenting his slacks. I nearly laugh again — yup, that’s Bronson’s wiener! — but the sound morphs into a moan against his lips instead.
“Does that feel good?” he whispers.
“Yes,” I reply, feeling a deep throb between my thighs.
He kisses my neck as he pinches the top button on my shirt. Slowly, he opens it. Then, the next one. And the next until he pushes his hand in and cups my breast.
“Is this okay?” he asks, pinching my nipple.
“Yes,” I say, my lips warm and loose.
He kisses down my body, his tongue licking my collarbone as he goes. He stops at my breasts and looks up, his eyes full of heat. “May I?” he asks.
I’m not sure what he’s asking permission for, but I want him to do it.
“Yes,” I say.
Bronson opens the last buttons of my shirt and lets it fall open. My cheeks flush red, my breasts now fully on display. He kisses the valley between them, then sucks a nipple between his lips, his teeth playfully digging in.
I press my lips together, stifling a moan as sharp pleasures fire across my skin. I run my fingers through his soft hair, now fully aware of the wet spot in my panties, now depressingly aware of the fact that it’s been far too long since anyone’s made me feel like this.
Actually, no one has ever made me feel like this.
No one’s ever asked me what I wanted. No one’s ever taken their time, letting me savor every single pleasurable thing they do.
Until now.
Until Bronson.
He sucks on my other nipple, then returns to my lips.
Should we be doing this?
Should I stop this?
Should I…
I cup his face, kissing him hard in appreciation as my stomach rumbles.
No, I think.
Tonight, I’ll have some fun.