Chapter 52 #2
Brody leaned his shoulders against the closed door and looked at me like I was something magical he’d found and still couldn’t quite believe belonged to him. His hair was a mess from too many affectionate hands. His shirt wore a thumbprint of paint I hadn’t noticed before.
“You, okay?” he asked, that soft way he asks when he’s ready to listen to whatever comes out.
I lifted my left hand and let the ring flash in the lamplight. “I am,” I said. “More than okay.”
He pushed off the door and came to me. His hands found my face, gentle, reverent. “I know you could’ve done all of this without me,” he said. “I love that you chose to do this with me.”
“I honestly couldn't imagine it any other way,” I said.
His mouth curved. “Good,” he murmured, and kissed me once more, slow and sure, sealing something that felt already decided.
We turned on the pellet stove together, he showed me the trick for the igniter, and watched the flame catch.
Warmth unfurled, small at first, then steady.
We sat at the little table with two paper cups of the exact wine we had drunk when Chase and Brody had come to my small apartment to make sure, I felt safe.
“You know,” he said, pretending casual and failing, “the shop will go right there.” He pointed through the window to the spot past the pines we’d circled on maps and napkins. “Someday we’ll look back at where these two boxes stood and laugh about how we thought this was enough space.”
“We’ll miss it,” I said, surprising myself with the certainty. “The small. The way we could hear the other breathe from any corner.”
He smiled. “We’ll keep the feeling of this place on purpose,” he said. “We’ll build our house around it.”
We moved to the bed when the room turned full dark, not because the night demanded it, but because the sheets were crisp and the day had been long, and I wanted to know what it felt like to fall asleep in a place we had chosen and made real with his hands.
He clicked off the lamp, and the stove cast a low, golden pulse that softened the room into a hush.
We quietly stripped down in front of each other and as we crawled into bed together, he tucked me into him, palm warm and flat over my belly, that unconscious claim he makes that never feels like taking, only belonging.
I listened to the fire tick and his breath even and the small sounds a new space makes when it’s learning you.
I thought of stages, microphones, and names said out loud.
I thought of desks and pages and mornings that smell like maple toast. I thought of the girl who ran and the woman who walked back on purpose.
Our now, I thought, and let the words settle under my ribs.
“First night,” he whispered into my hair, that smile heard, not seen. “First of everything.”
“First of everything,” I echoed, and rolled to face him.
I ran my fingers through his unruly hair, trailed them down his neck, his shoulder, trailing down to his pec and then danced along his abs, my hand searching for something I had missed. I wrapped my hand around his already hard cock and squeezed.
Brody's eyes shuttered closed as he groaned, pushing his hips into me. "Cass."
"I missed him about as much as I missed you, Mr. Palmer." I teased. "You know my favourite part about us living together may be the whole sleeping naked thing."
He opened his eyes, a cheeky grin playing across his face, "I may have to agree with you if this ends up being our new bedtime routine."
I pushed him onto his back and maneuvered myself between his muscular thighs. "Let me show you how much I missed you..."
Brody's eyes flared with heat as I took a similar path with my tongue that my fingers had not long ago.
I licked and kissed my way down his body, loving the sounds that came out of him.
Loving the way his body tensed, how he bucked his cock up, and I could feel the precum making a mess of us.
I could feel myself growing wetter. I had never been so turned on about going down on someone as I was with him. I loved how much he loved it.
I was purposely taking my time, and I knew it was working when Brody growled, "You are killing me, Cassidy. I need my cock in you."
I put my lips to the head of his cock, eyes locked on him as I said, "That is what I am working towards, Mr. Palmer. Let me take my time tasting my fiancée."
Brody's eyes blew out wide as I kept eye contact with him and slowly took his cock in my mouth. My hand and mouth worked in time with his thrusts.
He looked absolutely feral in the firelight.
I sucked and licked and nipped him until I could feel he was about to explode.
But then he was pulling me up his body, so that I was straddling his iron-hard length.
I tilted and then rocked my hips, while he punched up his hips, and I almost came off the feeling of him slamming up into me.
My whole body felt lit up, my skin on fire.
Brody grabbed me by the back of my neck and pulled me down into a bruising kiss. He kissed me with the same force that he fucked me with.
Nipping my bottom lip, he growled, "Cum with me, wifey."
And holy fuck did I.
I came so hard I thought I might pass out, my walls clenched and spasmed around him until he was following me. He held me on top of him until our heartbeats slowed, while he played with my hair and rubbed his calloused hand down my back.
Later, after we had cleaned up and climbed back into our bed together again, I fell asleep, nuzzled into Brody's side with a smile on my face.