Twenty-five
Liem
Having Bri with me again, I can finally breathe.
With her, everything is sunnier, warmer, more complete.
Bringing her back to my apartment gives me the same feeling as when we went to the Brooklyn apartment for the first time.
Like stepping into the awkward unknown while somehow knowing it will be amazing.
When her lips make a little O, the rose-colored glasses evaporate and reveal my gray, lifeless box of concrete. Have I really been living like this? The only signs of life in the space are my fiddle-leaf fig in the corner and the sofa and bed frame she ordered prior to her arrival.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?”
She chuckles. “It’s . . . something.”
“Help me, please.”
“I’ve got you, don’t worry.”
She opens her notebook. Pages of layout sketches with images of furniture, fabric samples, and paint chips.
I’m impressed. She goes through each option with me, glowing while she discusses the benefits of the one that is clearly her favorite.
Minutes pass, and I realize I haven’t looked at her plans the whole time. I can’t stop staring at her.
“Do you like it?” she asks when she’s done with her design proposal.
“Yes.”
“Really?”
She doesn’t need to know I have no fucking idea which design I just approved. “Yes, really. I trust you with my life, so whatever you think.”
“Were you really wanting to use your whole budget? I can do it for way less.”
“No, go for it. I work too much to come home to a budget-friendly solution.”
She laughs. “Whatever you say, boss.”
I give her my credit card without a second thought. Bri is notoriously bad at spending my money. My money is safer with her than it is with me most days. “There’s that, and here’s the fob for the entrance and elevator. You can get all this done in twelve hours?”
“Will you really be at work that long? You got up so early today.”
“Sadly, yeah. That’s my life.”
“Okay, well, thank you for not making me Uber. I’ll go get the rest of the stuff and have most of it put up by tonight.”
“Are you sure you don’t need any help?”
“Very sure. Have a good day at work, and try not to miss me too much.”
I’ll be lucky if I get anything done while knowing she’s a few blocks away. “No promises.”
~
Work dragged by. Ten hours of staring at the same presentation for the same project, and Sai still can’t make up his mind enough to pass it to me to finish.
It’s 9:00 p.m., and my patience ran out at 7:00.
While I watch over Sai’s shoulder, my knee bounces so hard it causes my chair to squeak out an annoying club remix of my impatience.
He looks down at it, and I stop. “Go home,” he says.
“We’re not done.”
“You are. With me. Clearly.” He’s not wrong. “I’ll wrap this up while you spend time with your lady friend, then I’ll send it to you.”
I’m already pulling my backpack from my drawer when I ask, “You sure?”
“Yes. Go.”
Say less.
The elevator whizzes down, and I bound from the lobby and up the hill with athletic speed, only acknowledging I’m out of breath when I force myself to catch it in front of my apartment door.
I take a minute, but my heart rate barely calms. I forgot she’s been working on my apartment all day, that I’ll walk into a completely different space than I woke up in this morning.
The excitement of seeing her is what’s stealing my breath.
When I open the door, the first object to catch my eye is a little table in the foyer. A dish sits on top of it with my keys inside, and a framed redwood leaf hangs above it.
“Bri?” I walk past my bed nook, which now has lux sheets, decorated walls, and an intricate gold and green pattern behind my headboard, but no Bri.
The living space looks like a hotel lounge, warm, earthy, the same forest scheme from her plans mixed with reds and oranges like an autumn canopy. “Yo . . .”
“Do you like it?” Her voice behind me makes me jump.
“I love it!” Between her in that dress—a short, dark purple piece of fabric that hugs every curve—and the beautiful decorations around me, I can’t decide what I want to look at more.
“Really?” she asks.
“Really. How did you do all this in a day?”
“I’m good at some things.”
Hugging her, I lift her from her feet, and she wraps her legs around me, her dress falling from her thighs before I can grab them to support her weight.
A pull in my stomach steals my focus for a moment.
A flash of sex emerges from my subconscious, sending my blood to places she’s likely to feel if I don’t set her down.
I place her on a stool, my hands unable to break their magnetic connection to her body.
She smiles up at me, eyes sparkling. It takes everything in me not to kiss her. “I, uh, was planning to cook you dinner, but I ordered some instead. Sushi,” I say. Her face lights up even more. Sadly, I have to ruin it. “I have to work a little more tonight.”
And now she pouts. “You’ve been at work all day.”
“I know. But if I wrap everything up tonight, we get to spend tomorrow together, completely uninterrupted.”
Her pout fades. “Fine. Feed me and I’ll shut up.”
Does she not know I’d rather crawl into bed with her right now? While I really do have to finish this work, I want as much time to enjoy what comes after I’m done. If anything does.
The awkward pause appears again, giving me too much time to take in her beauty, trace her lips with my eyes, and notice her smirk when she reads it all on my face. I swear she’s giving me permission to kiss her, but before I can, my phone vibrates with a text from the food delivery.
“Food’s here.”
She chuckles, shaking her head at something. Me, most likely. “Great.”
~
The hours fly by quicker than expected. When I finish, it’s after
2:00 a.m. and I’m wondering how I miscalculated my estimate so poorly.
Bri, lying in my bed. It’s a beautiful sight. Not just her. The idea of it all. The obsessive part of me has imagined crawling in bed with her, waking up beside her again—but never her waiting patiently for me to come in.
As late as it is, I got my second wind. The thoughts stir in my mind, fighting my attempt to keep them out of my pants. The pants that are about to come off.
Slipping under the sheets, I try my hardest not to disturb her. The moment I’m settled, she says, “I’m not asleep.” Her voice barely has the hoarse texture of fatigue.
“Why not?”
“I was waiting for you.” She rolls to her back, stretching her arms above her head. Her shirt is short, falling only to the base of her breasts, the material so thin, I can see the outline of her nipples. Fuck. “Come here.”
Okay. I scoot closer to her, staying on my pillow, then she takes me by the waist and tugs me closer. Against her, I suddenly have more energy than if I’d downed a triple shot of espresso.
“Well, hello there,” she says, looking down toward our hips. I don’t need to see the way she’s smirking to know she can feel how hard I’m throbbing against her stomach. I’m trying to play it cool, and my dick is telling on me.
I pull my hips away from hers. “Sorry. It’s nighttime.”
“Is there a night version of morning wood I’m unaware of?”
“Kind of?”
She chuckles and pulls my hips against hers again. I swallow back a whimper. “Want me to take care of it for you?”
Yes. “No, i-it’s—” Her fingers trace inside the band of my underwear, stealing the words from my parched mouth. I swallow the rest of my sentence.
“We can go to sleep, then,” she says. “If that’s what you want.”
I’d say I’m not sure what I want, but it’s pretty damn clear what my body does. The wall I usually have between arousal and my ability to share that with someone is as solid as air when it comes to Bri. She must read it on my face.
“We’ve had sex, Liem.”
Whatever blood isn’t currently in my penis rushes to my cheeks. “We have.”
“You never told me how it felt for you. Was it good?”
Swallowing, I speak past the rasp building in my throat. “Better than good.”
“Emotionally?”
I pause, considering. I’m fucked up over it, for sure, though not in the way I expected. Bri is an imaginary number, a variable in an equation of my own creation. She breaks the rules in all the ways I want. “I’m better now that I know you won’t disappear from my life if we’re not in New York.”
“You’d never let me do that.” Her smile implies that’s a good thing. “And I’d never let you let me.”
Even if my blood wasn’t favoring my penis over my brain, I would be just as desperate for her. Bri is my temptation and my safe space. And right now, that’s a killer combination.
The desire to be inside her again makes it impossible to focus on anything else. I’m a ball of sensation, a mind full of lust, a body ready to perform its most carnal service to the goddess I pray to at night.
She runs her hand up and down my chest, teasing my nipple along the way. Just above a whisper, she asks, “Do you want to touch me again?”
If she let me inside her right now, I wouldn’t last a minute. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since you got here.”
“Where?”
God damn it, woman. You have no idea how close I am right now and you’re barely touching me. “Wherever you’ll let me.”
An evil little grin graces her face. “How about right here?” She taps a fingertip against her cheek.
I roll toward her again, taking her face in my hands, my lips replacing her fingertip.
“Here,” she says. My eyes follow her fingertip down to her neck.
I devour the delicate skin right beneath her jawline, her hum of enjoyment lulling me into an erotic calm.
Her marshmallow scent reminds me of how deeply we have always connected.
The familiar taste of her skin reminds me that her body is an extension of my own.
The way she arches into the hand I didn’t notice I placed on her back reminds me that her body, whenever she chooses, is mine.
Mine to touch, mine to please, mine to love.
“Here,” she whispers. I lean away to find her finger on her lips, pressing over their plush arches. I pull her hand away, taking what I’ve wanted all along.
The kiss is deep and hungry. She holds my head in place, letting me explore her mouth with my tongue. Suddenly, she stops me.
Her fingers trace down my happy trail. My teeth sink into my lip when they tickle over my length and disappear. I look down as her hand settles between the apex of her thighs. “Now, here.”
Fuck.
I fling the comforter away, trailing kisses down her perfect body, salivating over the thought of what comes next. Her.
She lifts her hips to help me pull off her shorts, her legs falling open, inviting me closer to the most intimate part of her.
One thigh on my shoulder, one in my hand, her smooth skin feels like silk.
Her little tuft of hair tickles my nose while I explore her with my tongue.
She’s as sweet as warm honey, making my hunger to please her feel as desperate as if I haven’t eaten all day.
“Oh my god, Liem,” she whimpers as if I’m torturing her.
I dip my tongue inside, feeling those plush walls I want to dive into.
I could come like this, grinding myself against my new sheets while I watch, listen to, and taste her melting for me.
But, somehow, she makes me want to be selfish.
She makes me want to fuck her senseless until I spill all my lust and all my love inside her.
Her breaths grow choppy, her muscles tense, and I can tell she’s close.
I slip my fingers inside, finding that spot that makes her arch off the bed, flicking my tongue against her clit.
My hips move in half time with my fingers, stroking myself against the bed.
She comes, slipping off my hand. While she writhes in ecstasy, I seal my mouth over her, tasting her pleasure—the pleasure I gave her.
“Come here.” She pulls me up, inviting me to take her place against the headboard.
She moves down, taking me in her hand, then her mouth. Her soft lips tease over my head, her warm mouth enveloping me, sucking, and—
“Wait, wait, wait.” I pull her from me and hold her face in my hands, taking deep breaths to keep from going over the edge. She strokes me, and I’m on edge again. I stop her hand with mine, the urge reduces me to begging. “Please, give me a sec.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. Very. But if you keep touching me, I’m going to embarrass myself.” Imagine coming two seconds after I’m inside her. Mortifying.
When my eyes open, I find her grinning at my struggle. “You’re that close when all you did was . . . do me?”
Being able to satisfy her, the person who makes me feel higher than anything else, is the ultimate gratification. “Yeah.”
She comes closer, pulling me into a lush kiss. Her tongue dances with mine, giving me more of her delicious flavor.
“This isn’t helping,” I say.
“Why would I help you deny yourself what you want?” Her lips are on mine again, her hand wrapped around me, stroking fast.
The blinding pleasure builds quickly, and I can’t stop it. My moan breaks the kiss, hot streams land on my stomach again and again, my eyes rolling. It’s over while I’m still wishing it would never end.
She keeps stroking me, teasing me, never giving me a chance to go soft. Then she reaches under her pillow and pulls out a metallic square. “It feels like you want more.”
“I do.” We may have different interpretations of that phrase.
She tears open the packet and rolls it onto me. I can’t stop staring at her, my breaths stuttering while I wait, anticipating. Straddling me, hands against the headboard on either side of my head, her body surrounds me and, as she slowly lowers, devours me.
She moves up and down, kissing me, drowning me in euphoria. “Is this good for you?” she asks, her answer scrawled across her beautifully tormented expression.
I shudder beneath her, my sense of self melting into a sensation that only she gives me.
I touch the soft skin of her every curve, reminding myself this is real. For this sweet, sweet moment, Bri, my dream, is here with me, and that’s all I need. “Yes.”