Chapter 29 #2
“Try ever,” Brody said. “Future CEOs don’t binge drink like a teenager.”
“Not even if they were only just teenagers?”
“Not even then.”
“Boring.” I ran my hand down the silky material of his hockey jersey. I tugged it off the hanger, fighting the urge to smell it. God, what is wrong with me?
“Yeah, it’s pretty fucking boring, isn’t it?” Brody mused. He sounded tired.
“So, why are you at a party and not getting drunk or having fun?” I held Brody’s jersey up in front of my body in the mirror. It was massive.
“At some shitty party some old friends threw for Em. Some of her old mates showed up. The ones who dragged her into all of it. Fucking ghouls.”
“That’s shit. Why don’t you leave? I bet Cal left, right?”
“Yes, he did. But there are photos of Emily around, and this whole thing is in her name, and it feels like one of us should be here.”
“I’m sorry you’re alone,” I said.
Brody was quiet for a beat. “Well, I guess I’m not alone now. You’re here. So… distract me.”
“Okay. Guess where I am right now?” I asked, jumping on a way to divert his attention.
“I’m guessing somewhere you shouldn’t be?”
“That would be right. I’m going to find my stuff tonight, even if I have to deconstruct your room to find it.”
I could hear Brody’s smirk in his tone. “Well, in that case, I can guarantee that you won’t find it.”
“Wait, so it’s not in your room? Interesting. Just when I was going to hide your jersey as payback. This thing is huge, by the way. Like, Hulk-sized. Maybe time to lay off those protein shakes.”
Brody was quiet, then when he spoke, his voice was even more gravelly than usual. “Do you have it on?”
“What?”
“My jersey. Do you have it on?”
Something twisted inside me at his drop in tone. It sent shivers through me.
“What if I do? You stole my stuff, so I’m stealing yours,” I goaded him.
“Let me see.” His command came immediately.
I didn’t know what to say. I just gripped the phone tighter.
“Put your video on.”
“Why?”
“I want to see my jersey on you.”
“Okay, weirdo,” I breathed. My heart raced at this point.
He ignored my stalling tactics.
“I’m waiting,” he said. There was a rustling sound, like he’d sat down somewhere soft, like a bed.
“So controlling,” I muttered and dropped the phone onto the leather ottoman in the middle of the closet.
I took my T-shirt off before I could overthink how weird this was. Leaving just my bra and jeans, I pulled the jersey on, then picked up my phone and clicked on the video icon.
Brody’s face came into view. He was lying back on a bed and holding his phone above his face.
“Let me see,” Brody instructed.
I tilted the camera so it scanned over my body, down to my feet and then back up. My face grew hot and my skin was scratchy all over. The smell of Brody rose from the jersey, clean linen and that expensive sandalwood and pine scent.
“Let me see properly, heathen,” he said.
I didn’t have to follow his orders. I didn’t have to do any of this.
But the truth was… I wanted to.
I set the phone on one of the shelves and backed away.
“See? Huge,” I said.
Brody was silent a moment. “What’s with the jeans? Lose them. You’re not really getting payback for me stealing your clothes if you’re not naked in mine, are you?”
Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound.
I laughed, slipped my hands under the jersey, and undid my jeans, tugging them down my legs. This wasn’t like me at all. I’d had no interest in any of this for so long, and now suddenly, out the blue, I was having fun. Just when I’d started to think I’d never have fun again.
“Is this where you admit to wearing my clothes naked, Brody? I’m proud of you. Get it off your chest.”
He chuckled, his gaze fixed on me as I kicked my jeans off and was left in just the jersey.
I straightened up slowly, heat moving through me like a wave.
“Sadly, they didn’t fit,” Brody drawled and then cursed. “Fucking hell, heathen. Are you trying to kill me?”
“Hmm, only every other day. Hadn’t you noticed?” I asked. “Oh my God!” A thought struck me. “My stuff’s in the gym, isn’t it?”
I backed toward the door, grinning.
“No, it’s not. Don’t waste your time going down there. Just stay here and distract me some more.”
I reached the door. “No way, I’ve figured it out. My stuff is in the gym, and I’m going to get it right now!”
I grabbed my phone, turned around, and made for the door, reaching the hallway and running along it. Three floors down, I found the gym. I snapped all the lights on and wandered along the aisles of equipment, ignoring Brody telling me to give up.
In the locker at the very bottom, I found a large black duffel bag stuffed full of my things.
I set the phone down against the weight rack and hefted the bag for him to see.
“Oh no, looks like you lost this one, Sinclair,” I laughed, opening the bag and taking out a much-beloved huge, holey black cardigan and hugging it to my chest.
“Yeah, well, I guess you were due a change of clothes. You were starting to smell,” Brody muttered.
I gave him the finger and kept rooting through the bag.
I pushed aside the cough medicine.
“Don’t even think about it,” Brody warned.
I paused, realizing that the thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. Somehow, with the running and the auditions and this back-and-forth with Brody, I’d stopped feeling like glugging cough syrup before I left the house.
I didn’t know how to thank him for that. I had no idea where to start.
I closed my hand around my vibrator, and a wicked thought occurred to me. No, I wouldn’t be thanking Brody anytime soon. I couldn’t let him just win our battle of wills that easily.
But, he wanted a distraction.
I could give him one.
I lifted the vibrator out of the bag and waved it toward my phone, still connected with London.
“Looks like I’ve got the rest of my evening sorted out.”
I straightened up and grabbed the bag, swinging it over my shoulder, and approached the phone.
“This is goodnight.” I gave a small wave to Brody, the vibrator in hand.
I reached for the phone to end the call, when his deep voice rang out.
“Don’t hang up.”
I paused, my hand halfway toward the phone.
“What do you mean?”
“What do you think I mean, cheer captain? Don’t hang up.”
Those words, and his dark, carnal tone, sent a full-body shudder through me.
Heat dripped down my spine and pooled at my core.
I was turned on. I had been since Brody had asked me to wear his jersey.
Actually, let’s be real, I’d been wet since the other night with Brody, dry humping on the counter.
Something had snapped between us that night.
The small amount of self-control that had been keeping us from destroying each other.
We’d gone from going for each other’s throats to wanting to rip each other’s clothes off, and now that that boundary had been crossed… I didn’t know how to step back over it.
It seemed Brody didn’t either.
“If you think I’m going sit on that bench, slide my toy inside myself and get off, wearing your jersey, while you watch… you’ve got another think coming, Sinclair.” Just the words sent me dizzy. There was nothing I wanted to do more.
“Fuck,” Brody muttered. “Enjoy teasing me, Selena. I’ll be home in a few days and ready to settle the score.”
I switched on the little button at the bottom of the toy, hoping it had battery, and it hummed to life.
“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you over my impending orgasm,” I said with a grin.
His neck was flushed, and his eyes dark as he watched me reach toward the phone.
I was about to hang up, even though the newly awakened, hungry part of me wanted nothing less, when Brody spoke again.
“Fine. Switch the camera off. I don’t get to watch,” he growled. “But let me listen. You know you want to. I bet you’re getting wetter just thinking about me, so far away, powerless, desperate, hard as fuck, jerking off just to the sound of you coming.”
My mouth fell open. I was so shocked by that filthy statement. By him smashing across the lines that we were supposed to be keeping between us. By his blatant desire and the way it made me feel.
“I’m right, am I not, little heathen? You’re soaking through your panties thinking about me.”
“You’re so arrogant,” I blurted out.
“And you’re so into it,” he countered. “Switch the camera off and get started. I already have.”
I scoffed. “You’re telling me you’re touching yourself right now?”
“Mm-hmm, you want to see?” Brody asked, the flush from his neck working up his face. He grunted, and the slap of skin on skin came over the line.
Fuck it.
I turned the video off and walked to the nearby weight lifting bench.
I placed the phone face down on it, unable to look and see if Brody had also turned his video off.
What if he hadn’t? Somehow, watching felt like crossing a line I wasn’t ready for yet.
Instead, I settled for picturing Brody in here, morning after morning, following his punishing routines and reveling in his unbreakable discipline.
Was I really going to get myself off right where he worshipped at the altar of his unshakable self-control?
Yes. I was.
I sat and pushed his jersey up, trailing the vibrator up my thigh and across my panties. Parting my legs, I guided it under the elastic and found my pussy. I pressed it to my mound first, letting the vibration move through me, and then slowly dipped down to my clit.
I gasped, and Brody echoed it.
“Let me hear, Selena,” he commanded. The slap of his skin against his hand continued over the line. There was a wet sound.
“Did you just spit on your hand?” I murmured, arching my back and enjoying the pleasure of finally being reunited with my toy.
“Mm-hmm, I’d rather you did it, but since I’m here and you’re there, I have to do it myself.”
“Oh God, you’re the worst, shut up,” I breathed and then gasped when I hit a particularly sweet spot. I rocked my hips against the vibrator, and the leather of the bench creaked rhythmically.
“You’re riding the fucking spot I put my head, aren’t you?” he groaned.
“Hmm, and getting it all wet,” I said, then let out a cry as I rose.
“Don’t fucking clean it off when you’re done. Don’t you dare,” Brody ordered and let out a hiss. “Fuck, I’m close. I can’t keep my fucking head around you.”
His words seemed to fall away, and the world zeroed down to the feeling of the vibrator on my clit. I was so wet, my thighs were soaking, and I really was making a mess of the bench. I rocked into the round head of the toy.
And suddenly, out of nowhere, thinking of Brody half a world away, jerking off in some bedroom at a party, his thoughts full of me, I came.
A strangled cry left me, pulsing pleasure rushing through my veins.
“Brody!” I managed to get out. “I’m coming, I’m—coming…” I trailed off, bending over, waves of feeling breaking over me.
“Sweetheart… fuck,” Brody stuttered out, and then a low, guttural growl that I knew meant he was coming in his hand, spilling all over, making a hot, salty mess.
Sweetheart.
After a few seconds where I caught my breath, Brody’s labored breathing came over the line, and he let out a long, satisfied groan.
“Fuck this,” he murmured. “I’m done with this city. I’m coming home.”