Chapter 4
Chapter four
Brecken
A warm Montana breeze slips through the high upper windows, carrying the scent of jasmine. It reminds me of her. Everything makes me think of Maisie. She’s been in my thoughts from the moment we met.
After tonight, I’m supposed to walk away from her big blue eyes, from the way her body has learned to respond to mine so quickly, from the soft sounds she makes when she comes.
I’ve been volunteering as an escort here for three years and haven’t had an issue. I know how to keep dates professional, with clean, clear boundaries.
Simple.
Safe.
Maisie has shattered every single rule.
I stop outside room 221 and flex my hands with my cock already half-hard from the memory of her riding me last night.
Walking away after two nights would have been the smart thing. This third date feels like dropping off a cliff with no parachute.
I knock twice, and the door opens immediately.
Maisie’s dark hair is loose around her shoulders; her intense sapphire eyes lock onto mine, turning me into a puppy. My heart forgets how to be a heart and starts throwing itself at my ribs like it’s trying to break out and hand itself to her.
“Brecken,” she grins, taking a step back to let me inside. Her sheer white slip skims the tops of her thighs; one thin strap is already sliding off her shoulder. My cock twitches at the sight, but I remind myself to slow down and stick to the plan.
As I move further into the room, I breathe in the scent of vanilla, warm skin, and the faint tangerine of one of the resort’s signature lotions. “It smells like you in here.”
“I hope that’s a good thing.” She meets my eyes with a shy smile.
“It’s the best.” I set the bottle of wine I brought on the side table. “I thought we could start slow tonight, make it feel real.”
“Like we’re married?”
“Exactly,” I lie. Pretending with Maisie stopped feeling like pretend somewhere around the second time I kissed her.
Maisie brings me two glasses from the minibar. After I pour the wine, we step out onto the balcony. I peer up at the stars, because looking at her pretty face, knowing she’ll never be mine, hurts. “The sky is clear tonight.” I point. “There’s the Little Dipper.”
“I think I prefer the Big Dipper.” She giggles, taking another sip, glancing at me sideways.
“Big Dipper, huh?” I stare down at my jeans and crack up. “That’s a first.”
“Sorry. I know, that was so cheesy … bad, bad, bad.” She laughs again. “I can’t help it. I’ve been thinking about last night all day,” she admits softly. “I couldn’t focus on anything. Not the wedding plans, not my fiancé’s text … nothing.”
My jaw tightens at the mention of him. “Good.” I quickly add, “That means the lessons are working.”
She looks like she’s about to say something, but only bites her lip.
“What is it?”
“Be honest, Brecken. Are your dates always like this? I mean, the way we kiss, the way we …” She stares off in the distance as if she’s too embarrassed to finish the sentence, but then pivots back and looks directly into my eyes. “Is that really all this is? Lessons?”
I set my glass down and cup her cheeks with both hands. Her skin is warm and soft under my palms. “It started that way,” I say softly, brushing her lower lip with my thumb. “But this does feel different, doesn’t it?”
She nods, her eyes fluttering half-closed as if she’s concentrating on the questions. “Would it be okay if we don’t play make-believe tonight, and I can pretend you’re mine?”
“I’m yours.” She has no idea how real my words are, and it isn’t my place to tell her. I kiss her slowly, tasting the wine on her tongue, as she melts against me and slides her hand up my chest.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” she whispers. “I have a little secret, husband.”
“Spill it, buttercup.”
“I had a glass of Chardonnay before you got here. I don’t drink much, but I wanted to be extra relaxed for you on our last night.” She slides her elegant hand down my thigh, moves it to the right, and strokes my erection through my jeans.
I let out a low growl. “You’re dangerous when you decide to be brave.
” I kiss her again, harder this time, and guide her into the suite, still kissing without breaking apart.
I back her toward the bed, and slowly peel the slip up and over her head.
I knew she wasn’t wearing anything underneath, but the sight of her levels me.
Curvy, petite, completely bare, with creamy breasts and nipples the color of pink roses.
“God, Maisie,” I murmur against her smooth, silky skin. “You can’t imagine what you do to me.”
“And I think I’m a goner for you,” she coos, as I gently lay her down on the sheets.
When I take off my clothes, her hungry blue gaze tracks my every move, and as I walk back to the bed with my stiff cock leading the way, I doubt she realizes she’s licking her lips. How could any man be okay with her hooking up with someone else?
“In a sense, I’m almost glad we’re not together on a permanent basis, because I couldn’t handle any other woman touching you.”
“If you were mine, I wouldn’t be with anyone else, Maisie. I’m a one-woman, kind of man.” I stay glued to her eyes as I lower myself onto the bed next to her. She catches me off guard when she wraps her small velvet hand around my length.
“You sure have come a long way.” She gives me a sly smile and tightens her grip. “Mercy,” I groan. “That’s it, darlin’, just like that.”
Somehow, I manage not to lose my fucking mind as I brush her dark, wild tangle of hair away from her shoulder so I can kiss the delicate arch of her neck, focused on memorizing every sensation.
God help me, it’s not just the way she smells like warm vanilla frosting and sunshine, or how her hair slips like silk between my callused fingers.
It’s the way her breath catches—half laugh, half whimper—when my mouth finds the faint scar just below her collarbone, the one she says came from a fence wire when she was twelve.
I taste the faint salt of her sweat there, and the sweetness that’s always underneath.
Her hand keeps working me, slow and sure, like she knows exactly how to wreck a man without rushing it.
For a second the whole damn world narrows to the slick heat of her palm and the way her stormy blue eyes flick up to mine—unguarded, a little wicked, a little scared.
I’m going to carry this night in my bones until the day they put me in the ground. Not just the sex. The way she says my name like it’s a secret. The way her body fits against mine like a piece I didn’t realize I was missing.
I’ll remember her for the rest of my life. It sounds so corny, and I can’t believe my reaction, but there’s no turning back. Not from her. Not ever.
She shivers as I travel lower, nuzzling as I move down and kiss the velvet pale flesh beneath her breast. Maisie runs her fingers through my hair and holds me there as if I have any intention of leaving.
I drag my tongue around the gentle curve of her breast to the tip of her nipple, and then let my teeth graze it just enough so she gasps and her body lifts off the bed.
Her knees fall open as I trail my way down her ribs, pausing at every new delectable discovery.
When I reach her navel, I dip my tongue inside and smile at the sound of her giggle.
I can feel the hitch in her breath and the tension rising as I shift lower, kissing the crease at the top of her thigh, then the impossibly soft skin just next to where she needs me.
I let her anticipation build, teasing her with faint brushes of my lips and tongue until she’s breathless and fisting the sheets.
“Please,” she whispers, rocking her hips.
I look up from between her thighs, catching her gaze, and hold it.
“You have no idea how beautiful you are like this. I could do this all night.” Every night, I think to myself.
Her pretty bare slit is glistening, swollen and so wet for me, the sight makes my mouth water.
She’s begging for my lips, and I’m white-knuckling the sheets so I don’t dive in and eat her alive.
Slowly, I run my tongue along the crease where her leg meets her torso. Her hips jerk. I know she’s trying to be patient, but her body needs more. Finally, I move to her slick center and take a long, leisurely lick, from her entrance all the way up to that sensitive bundle of nerves.
Her body jolts as if she’s been shocked.
This time I narrow my tongue and linger, inhaling her musky honey, tracing slow, deliberate circles, purposely drawing out her pleasure.
I want to tongue fuck every trace of the men before me out of her head, especially that pathetic fiancé.
By the time I’m finished with her, she’ll be mine, and he’ll be gone from her body, mind, soul, everything.
Her hips begin to move in rhythm with my mouth.
I slide my hands under her, gripping her firmly, pulling her closer to my lips.
She’s drenched, and I can feel her tension building with each flick of my tongue.
I look up and see her head thrown back, and her breasts heaving with each ragged breath. She’s close, so close.
I slow down, wanting to stretch the moment, but she grumbles in protest, digging her fingers in my hair, tugging me, urging me on. I chuckle against her.
“Greedy girl,” I murmur, and then give her what she wants. I increase the pressure and speed of my tongue, going around and around her sweet bud, until her thighs clench around my head, and she lets out a long moan before crying out, “Brecken.”