Chapter 17
17
MALLORY
TWO AND A HALF WEEKS LATER
I check my makeup in the mirror. Everything nicely covered. Then I look at the rest of me. I'm wearing jeans and sneakers with a simple top with three-quarter sleeves. I'll bring a cardigan too, but the fall is spoiling us with amazing weather, so I might even leave it in the car.
Then I check my insides. Heart beating too fast. Knot in my stomach. Sweaty fingers. I guess that's all to be expected.
Brady.
It hasn't been easy not hearing from him for the last two and a half weeks. Many times I was about to text him, but then the waiting game would have started. I would have been anxious about whether he'd text me back, when he'd text me, what he'd write. It would have thrown me off constantly. No, this was better. A firm date, no uncertainties.
Of course, he might not show up today. Maybe he forgot, maybe he's not interested anymore. But then I'll have my answer anyway.
Maybe it isn't the best strategy to always expect the worst, so I'm not going to do that. He'll be there. He promised.
I gather my things, lock the door behind me and get in my car. When I arrive at the parking lot, I already see Brady waiting.
Relief floods through me.
He came.
With a huge smile on my face, I get out and walk toward him. He grins, opens his arms, and I practically throw myself into them. Laughing, he lifts me up, which makes me squeal. Not knowing what else to do, I wrap my legs and arms around him and hold on as tight as I can.
"I missed you so much, mo stóirín ." He buries his face in my hair, inhaling my scent.
"What are you apologizing for?" I ask.
He laughs. "It also means hello. I forgot to mention that."
"Right. I don't believe a word you're saying." But honestly, I don't even care.
"Do you want to go for a walk?"
"What are my other options?"
"Making out in my backseat."
"Then I'll take that."
He lifts his head, looking into my eyes. "You're simply spectacular, Mallory Callahan."
"You still remember my last name?"
"Of course."
"But I don't know yours."
"O'Brien."
"Brady O'Brien. Sounds good."
"You know what else sounds good?"
"What?"
"You, when you gasp as I touch your tits."
"Is that so?" I ask, as warmth shoots through my body, pooling between my legs.
"You make a lot of amazing sounds."
He opens the door without putting me down, before letting me slide onto the back seat. I move over to make room for him. Brady gets in, reaches for me, pulling me onto his lap straddling him. He cups my face, looking at me tenderly.
"I really missed you."
"I missed you too." I stroke his arms and wrists. "How are you?"
He tilts his head back, closing his eyes briefly before looking at me again. "Right now, I'm fantastic."
"And otherwise?"
"We can talk about that later, okay? Right now, I just want to enjoy you for a bit."
"Enjoy?" I ask, amused.
"Look at you and touch you and feel you."
I run my hands up his arms, over his strong shoulders, before wrapping them around his neck. Slowly I lean forward until our breath mingles. Then it's just an inch, half an inch, a quarter, a few millimeters, until our lips touch. It feels so new and yet familiar at the same time, a feeling that tells me more than anything else that it was right not to give up on him. Even though it was hard.
His hands move to the back of my head, pulling me closer, intensifying our kiss until I gasp, opening my mouth as my tongue touches his.
And then there's no holding back. We kiss as if our lives depend on it. As if these are the Olympic Games of kissing and we're competing for gold. And by God, we would win. Definitely.
Before my thoughts get any sillier, I start touching him. It's not even a conscious decision, more like something I absolutely have to do. And he doesn't seem to mind that I stroke down his chest, touch his stomach, slide under his shirt and finally feel his skin. Finally!
But I don't stop there; instead, I start working on his belt while he kisses me and makes approving noises.
When I wrap my hand around his cock, he moans, pressing his forehead against mine, holding my face.
"Your hand feels so good. So incredibly good."
I pump gently up and down, trying to free him from the fabric.
"I like your enthusiasm." He lifts his hips, helping me pull down his pants.
"And I was worried I was moving too fast for you," I joke.
"Never."
I let my hand move up and down, enjoying the velvety hardness against my skin. Then I slide off his lap, lean forward, but before I can take him in my mouth, Brady pulls me up, brushing the hair from my face.
"No, you are absolutely not going to please me first."
Before I can say anything, he kisses me passionately, gently pushing me back until I'm half leaning against the door. Then he kisses down my neck, simultaneously pushing my T-shirt up before pressing tender kisses on my cleavage.
My hands stroke his head and shoulders, pressing into his skin. Brady pulls down the fabric of my bra, takes the nipple between his lips, caresses it while his hand works on my jeans. I lift my hips and he pulls off my pants and underwear.
He moves to the other nipple, while his hand rests on my mound, pressing lightly against it.
"Oh God, Brady," I murmur.
"I love when you say my name," he answers, pressed against my breast.
He places a tender kiss on my wet nipple before kissing his way further down. Further and further. Until his mouth is finally at the spot where his hand is already waiting. Brady is tall, so he has to maneuver a bit, and it doesn't look very comfortable, but when he starts kissing me between my legs, I couldn't care less about any of that.
My fingers rest on his head to make sure he doesn't get any stupid ideas about stopping. But he doesn't.
I've been eaten out before. By different men.
You can tell who enjoys doing it and who just does it because it's expected.
The latter do it half-heartedly, just going through the motions, licking three times and that's it.
But Brady doesn't do it half-heartedly. Not at all. He takes his time, varies what he's doing. Uses his fingers, his tongue, his lips to pleasure me.
And he's not satisfied with just once.
When I lie there exhausted, he presses a kiss on my mound, looking up at me with a grin before getting back to work. And then again.
Afterward, all my limbs feel like jelly.
"No more, please, Brady, I can't take anymore," I whisper.
Tenderly, he kisses my clit one more time before slowly kissing his way up and taking me in his arms. I cuddle up against him, as close as possible.
"Thank you."
"Shut up."
Indignantly, I lift my head until I see his grinning face. Instead of strangling him, I kiss him. My taste is still on his lips, which turns me on. But honestly, everything about this turns me on.
"Should we go to your place?" he asks quietly, before placing more kisses on my face.
"I'd love to."
"I'll follow you."
"Okay."
But I make no attempt to move, which makes him laugh. "You'll have to move for that."
"Oh, then it's not happening."
"Why not?"
"I can't anymore." To prove my point, I raise my hand before letting it drop again. "It's made of rubber."
He laughs, then kisses me again. "Silly girl. Let's go. I want to devour you in your bed."
"And what if I can't drive anymore?" I ask while pulling myself together and putting my pants back on.
"Then I'll rescue you."
Brady opens the door, helps me out. Then he presses me against his car once more, kissing me as if he didn't want to let me go after all.
Laughing, I free myself from him, straighten my clothes one more time. I walk to my car.
"By the way, your ass looks hot," he calls after me.
I look back over my shoulder, grinning.
And it could have been so perfect.
But then I trip over my own feet, walk right into my car and barely manage to catch myself.
I want the ground to swallow me whole.
brADY
What is she doing? After giving me that sexy grin, she stumbles, staggers against her car, catches herself. I start moving to rescue her, but then she turns around, throws her arms in the air and shouts: "Tada!"
Her laugh is a bit embarrassed at first, but when I laugh too, it becomes cheerful. Crazy chick.
"I didn't realize you couldn't walk anymore either," I call out.
She waves dismissively. "That was all planned."
"Well then, better not perform any other planned nonsense."
Smirking, I watch her get into her car before I sit down in my own.
I had imagined three thousand scenarios for how this evening might go, but I hadn't dared dream we'd end up directly on my back seat. After all, we haven't seen each other for more than three weeks. Anything could have happened during that time. I had even expected she might cancel because she'd come to her senses. I couldn't have blamed her. It's quite an extreme offer—one that I don't take for granted, which is why I would never hold it against her if she withdrew it.
But I had her in my arms. Kissed her, tasted her, caressed her. And I want more. I want to feel everything about her, want her fingers around my cock, her lips too. And then I want to be inside her. Slide in slowly until I'm as deep in her as possible. Look into her eyes, kiss her. Want her to touch me, make me feel like it's the most intimate moment in her life. Want her to look at me with love, even if we only have this one stolen evening.
And then I want to turn her over, give her a slap on the ass and fuck her until she's trembling and shaking beneath me.
But maybe I better not say that out loud.
We park in front of her building. She's waiting for me at the door. Mallory has such a spectacular face. I don't know why she always wears so much makeup. But it's her decision, of course, and I have absolutely no say in the matter.
" Mo stóirín ."
"Are you saying good night to me?"
I grin. "No."
"What then?"
"Hello."
"Ah."
But she doesn't look convinced at all. So I didn't do a good job of convincing her it's not a term of endearment.
She unlocks the door and we go upstairs to her apartment.
"Would you like something to drink?" she asks after hanging her bag on the coat rack.
The next moment she shrieks with laughter because I lift her up. She wraps her legs around me.
"Where's your bedroom?" I ask while kissing her neck.
She directs me there and I carefully place her on the mattress. Then I take off my shirt.
"I haven't had time to go to the gym in the last few weeks," I say a bit remorsefully, because my abs aren't as defined as they once were. In fact, they're barely visible anymore.
"You're still spectacular," she says a bit hoarsely as she sits up and strokes my stomach. "Come here."
I lie halfway on top of her, brush the hair from her face, kiss her tenderly. "You're spectacular."
She smiles before rolling me onto my back. Slowly she kisses her way down my neck, across my chest and stomach. I grab a pillow that I stuff under my head so I can watch her.
When she starts to open my jeans and pull them down, I help her.
The anticipation is almost killing me. Everything is going far too slowly for me, but simply shoving my cock into her mouth probably isn't proper etiquette either. But I want her to do it so badly!
Mallory wraps her hand around my cock, slides it up and down, looks me in the eyes while licking her lips, and I'm about to die because I want it so much. My cock is hard, already twitching slightly in her hand.
She leans forward, I hold my breath, tense my body.
And then... then she licks over my tip, which immediately starts to leak. I moan because it feels good, but it's not enough because I want more, yet I'm already so happy that she was even there with her tongue.
She licks over me again. I search for her eyes, want to see that it turns her on too when she pleasures me. Blowjobs are only good when you can see that the woman really wants it too. If she's not into it, she might as well not do it. But Mallory...
Mallory smiles at me. Her gaze is already a bit hazy with desire, which turns me on even more. Hello? There's a woman in bed with me holding my cock in her hand. Jackpot! Ding, ding, ding! It would be even better if she were already naked too. I should have undressed her first. Major mistake.
And then I can't think anymore because she takes mercy and finally takes my cock in her mouth. Fuck! That's good. She looks me in the eyes while doing it, which makes it even better. I love it when she wants eye contact, although I never know whether I should look in her eyes or at her mouth… Both hat options that have me at the verge of climaxing.
Instead, I dig my fingers into the bedspread, think about everything possible to avoid coming too quickly and ruining this supreme pleasure.
But her tongue... Fuck! Her tongue!
She licks with her tongue from my base to the tip, again and again. In between, her hand strokes my length.
And then she takes my cock in her mouth again. Deep. Slowly she moves her lips up and down. Up and down. So slowly. So damn slowly. So agonizingly slowly.
"Fuck, Mallory, that's so fucking hot," I groan.
It takes the greatest effort to free a hand from the blanket and place it on her head instead. She makes approving noises, which is why I push her head down a little. Mallory takes more of me in her mouth, which nearly drives me crazy. I move my hand in rhythm with her sucking, getting faster, encouraging her to speed up, which she does. In between, she briefly releases my cock from her mouth, but only to let her saliva run over it.
"Fuck, yes, make it really wet," I growl, because the sight is simply brilliant. Only a wet blowjob is a good blowjob. If you think it might be too wet already, just spit on it again.
She looks at me, smiles, before taking it back into her mouth. This little one will be my absolute undoing.
It's exactly the right mix of technique, show, and feeling that drives me crazy. So completely crazy.
I can feel that it won't be long until I’m done.
"I'm about to come," I warn her, but she keeps going.
Okay, she wants it that way.
I put my second hand on her head too, hold her steady, move my hips. I interpret the sounds she makes as approval. But then I have to ask, because I don't want her to do something just because I want it.
"Is this okay?"
She nods and makes more approving sounds.
"Really?"
Am I masochistic? Why do I want her to say no?
Another nod. So I move my hips faster, thrust my cock into her mouth, enjoying how wet it is and how it glides in and out effortlessly. I get faster as my climax approaches. Fuck, I'm almost there.
I want to pull her head away, don't want to just finish in her mouth, but she doesn't seem to understand my hint. And then I can't hold back anymore, shooting my load onto her tongue.
Exhausted, I sink back, my hands releasing her, falling to the sides.
"Sorry," I say, spent.
She licks over my tip, which is now sensitive and twitches. "For what?"
"For just coming in your mouth."
She laughs. "I wanted that."
"Oh, okay." I open an arm for her. "Come here."
She crawls up, snuggles against me. I stroke her arm, hate that she's still dressed.
"We urgently need to do something about your clothes soon."
"What's wrong with my clothes?"
"They're not on the floor."
She giggles. "Ah, you'd prefer if I were naked."
"Exactly."
"Well, you didn't make that happen."
"I totally regret that now."
"Your loss."
I tickle her side, which makes her squeal. "You cheeky thing."
"Takes one to know one."
"I'm not denying that." I turn my head, kiss her on the forehead. "That was pretty fantastic."
"I'm glad."
"You can do that anytime."
She grins against my skin, then presses her lips against it, kisses me. "The evening isn't over yet."
"No?"
"I hope not."
I pat her shoulder with a grin. "I just need to catch my breath a bit, then round two is coming."
"Thank God."
That deserves more tickling.