Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
NAOMI
W armth. That’s the first thing I register as consciousness seeps in, slow as honey. Not the artificial heat of a blanket, but something solid. Breathing.
Brandon.
The club, the dancing, the car ride… Me, stripping down to my underwear like some desperate… God, what was I thinking?
I wasn’t. That’s the problem. Tequila and unresolved sexual tension are a dangerous combo.
I’m in Brandon’s bed. Wearing his shirt. Cuddling.
Again.
And then…
I try to wiggle out, but he grumbles and hauls me right back.
“Mmm.” His voice is a slow, sleepy rasp. “Where you going, cupcake?”
“I, uh…” My brain short-circuits, too focused on the feeling of his bare chest against my back. “Bathroom?”
“Nuh-uh.” He nuzzles into my hair, inhaling deeply. “You smell too good to leave.”
My heart hammers in my chest. This is too much, too intimate. We don’t do this. We don’t cuddle or share soft morning moments.
“Brandon…” I try to make my voice firm, but it comes out breathy. “Let me up.”
“Don’t wanna.” His hand trails down, finding the bare skin of my thigh beneath the hem of his shirt. “Wanna keep you here.”
I shiver, my body betraying me. “We can’t… this isn’t…” This is not part of the plan. This is so far beyond the realm of the plan, it’s in another fucking galaxy. Can’t we pretend yesterday never happened?
“Isn’t what?” His fingers draw lazy circles, each one higher. “Isn’t what you want?”
“Only because your bed is comfortable.”
He chuckles, the sound vibrating through me. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, cupcake.”
“You know this changes nothing, right? You’re still an ass.” I inhale sharply as his fingers graze the edge of my panties. “You said no sex.”
“Mmm, I did.” He nips at my shoulder. “But there are other things we can do that aren’t quite sex.”
“Like what?” Damn it. I shouldn’t encourage him.
“Like this.” His hand cups me through the thin lace, and my hips jerk. “You’re already so wet for me, aren’t you?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to gather my scattered thoughts. This is dangerous territory, treading the line between our carefully constructed boundaries. But my body’s too busy arching into his touch to listen to reason.
“That’s it.” His fingers slip beneath the fabric, finding my slick heat. “Let me make you feel good.”
“No kissing.” It’s a plea and a protest all in one. I can’t think straight with his fingers teasing me like this. What would his lips do?
“Still with these rules?” He circles my clit with maddening slowness. “Pretty sure those went out the window when you stripped down last night.”
“I was drunk.”
“And now?”
“Temporary insanity.” I try to squeeze my legs together to deny him access, but it’s a weak attempt. “Obviously, brought on by prolonged exposure to your ego.”
“Beautiful little liar.” He delves a finger inside me, and I choke back a whimper. “You want this. Want me. Don’t deny it.”
I can’t. Not with his fingers pumping in and out, the delicious stretch, his thumb rubbing tight circles on my clit, and his hot breath on my neck.
“It’s okay,” he says. “Your body finally decided to tell me the truth.”
“Just… Don’t be an ass about it.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
My legs fall open, giving him better access. Traitors.
“That’s my good girl.” His praise washes over me, making me clench around his fingers. “So tight. So responsive.”
“Please…” I don’t even know what I’m begging for anymore. More. Less. Anything.
Brandon shifts behind me, his fingers slipping out as something else brushes against my inner thighs. Something hard and hot and… oh God.
Is that?
I stiffen, a spike of panic cutting through the haze of lust.
“Relax.” His lips graze my ear. “I’m not going to fuck you. Not yet.”
Yet. The promise in that single word sends a shiver down my spine.
“But this…” He rocks his hips, his cock sliding between my thighs, coating himself in my arousal. “This isn’t breaking any promises, is it?”
No. Yes. I don’t know.
A strangled moan escapes me. It’s not penetration, but friction, his cock hot and heavy against my most sensitive parts. And it feels amazing, sending sparks of pleasure zinging through me.
“Fuck, you feel good.” He groans, fingers digging into my hip as the head of his cock bumps against my clit again. “Can’t wait to fill this pussy up one day.”
“Brandon…” It comes out as a whimper, my hips moving of their own accord, meeting his, seeking more.
“Look at you, so desperate for my cock.” He gives me a sharp thrust. “So fucking sexy, needy and drenched.”
He’s right. I’m desperate. Desperate for him to make me come, to claim me, to take control.
My nails dig into his forearm, anchoring myself as he starts a steady rhythm, sawing his thick length back and forth through my swollen lips. It’s maddening, feeling him right there, a hair’s breadth away from where I need him most.
“You want it bad, don’t you, cupcake? Too bad you won’t get it.” His fingers find my mouth. “Open up.”
I part my lips, tasting myself on his skin as he pushes them inside.
“Suck,” he commands.
I hollow my cheeks, swirling my tongue as he continues to thrust between my thighs, the friction building to an unbearable level.
“The things you do to me.” He pumps his fingers in and out, mimicking the motion of his hips.
I reach back, threading my fingers through his hair and tugging hard. His answering grunt is raw, unfiltered, and it sends a flood of warmth pooling between my thighs.
“Careful, cupcake.” His teeth graze my neck. “Keep that up, and I might forget our rules entirely.”
I release his fingers. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“You sure about that?” He runs his spit-slick fingers down to circle my clit.
I’m not sure about anything anymore. Not with the way he’s touching me, the way his fingers dig into my hip, the way his cock feels sliding against me, the way his breath fans hot against my neck. “No.”
I’m grinding back against him shamelessly, chasing the pleasure only he can give me. Pride is a distant memory. All that matters is the building ache between my legs.
“You want to come like this?” He picks up the pace, increasing the pressure on my clit. “With my cock rubbing this needy little pussy?”
His filthy words send a bolt of lust to my core, my walls fluttering around nothing. Demanding to be filled.
“Brandon, I can’t…” My head thrashes against the pillow. “I’m gonna…”
“That’s it, let go for me.”
I can’t. I shouldn’t. But… it feels so good. Too good.
“Don’t hold back on me.” He bites down on my shoulder, and that’s all it takes.
I shatter, my orgasm ripping through me with the force of a hurricane. Waves of ecstasy crash over me, stealing my breath and obliterating all thought. I’m lost to it, my body convulsing and clenching as Brandon continues to move his hips.
His movements become erratic. “So fucking hot.”
I’m dimly aware of Brandon’s groan, of the warm wetness that coats my thighs as aftershocks ripple through me. He collapses against me, his weight pressing me further into the mattress as we both struggle to catch our breath.
What did we do?
Shame and satisfaction war within me.
I just let Brandon get me off. Again. Sober. In his bed.
“Cupcake?” His mouth skims my shoulder, heat curling where he lingers. “You still with me?”
“I need to…” What? Pee? Escape? Have a fucking existential crisis?
“Nope.” He pulls me back against him, nuzzling into my neck. “You need to stay right here.”
“We can’t?—”
“Can’t what? Cuddle?” The smirk in his voice is evident. “After I made you come so hard you forgot your own name?”
Warmth blooms on my cheeks. “Shut up.”
“Make me.”
And God help me, for a second I’m tempted. Tempted to roll over and wipe that smug grin off his face with my lips, my tongue, my?—
No. Bad Naomi. Very bad.
I take a deep breath, trying to center myself.
“Let’s take a shower, and after that…” His fingers trace idle patterns on my stomach. “Food.”
Right. Food. Normal morning things. As if he didn’t just finger bang and dick rub me into oblivion.
He didn’t lie. His ego is big.