6. Brett
SIX
brETT
Oh fuck .
Brett was so fucked, far worse than he ever had been when he was younger and dumber. He was supposed to be older and wiser now, but as his tongue slipped into Effie’s mouth, he unraveled. Never would he ever forget how she felt cradled against him, standing in the middle of Nightowl as the summer storm raged outside.
She pressed her breasts against his chest, confirming his earlier suspicions: the woman hadn't been wearing a bra all damn day. He had struggled to focus in the studio as he imagined what was, or wasn’t, under her top. Her beautifully hard nipples pressed into him and, damn .
Yeah, he was fucked. It scared him, knowing that this woman could wreck him. But that made him more desperate, urgent, to worship at her hips.
Stumbling slightly backward, he looped his pointer fingers through the belt loops on her cut-off shorts. She trailed after him, their lips never breaking contact. Together, they stumbled up the stairs until they paused outside of her bedroom.
Finally, gasping for air, he severed their connection. “Are you sure about this?”
“Mmhm,” she nodded vigorously, blue-jeweled irises sparkling, her eyes wide and pleading.
“God, you’re stunning,” Brett whispered, his voice raw. Without makeup, without all the adornments, without the flashing bulbs of the paparazzi. Just her in his studio, face naked, hair kinky with its natural curl. He’d never been more attracted to her. And that was saying something, considering the wild magnetism they had years ago.
She shook her head. “You’re just saying that.”
“I mean it, Effie. I was just thinking I’ve never wanted you more.” Again, he pulled her closer by the belt loops so that she could feel exactly how much he wanted her.
One eyebrow quirked up. “I see,” she murmured. “Take me to bed, Brett.”
He eagerly complied, tumbling into the room. It wasn’t very large, and had only a queen-sized bed, dresser, two bedside tables, and an overhead lamp. He slid the dimmer down before flicking on the switch. The bamboo pendant lamp cast the room in a warm glow, bouncing off the oak shiplap wall.
Effie nuzzled against his neck. Her warm breath tickled the stubble there, and he wished she could stay notched like this against him for days. Forever.
Forever . The thought dropped inside his brain as the back of his knees hit the bed and he sat down. In the next moment, Effie straddled him, her shorts riding up and exposing more of her strong thighs. Grabbing on, Brett held her, noting as her muscles flexed and stretched underneath his palms. Her caramel brown hair enveloped them, closing out the world around them.
He would never leave their bubble if he didn’t have to. But that was ridiculous. Someone like Effie Bird couldn’t stay hidden away in exile in northern Michigan like Brett had managed to.
He wouldn’t think about it now. If he did, he’d curl back inside himself too far to enjoy this moment as she gave herself to him.
Effie settled into his lap, brushing against his hardness. He groaned into her mouth. She sucked his lower lip between her teeth, nibbling his kiss-swollen skin.
“Princess,” he growled, palming the back of her head, and flipping her around onto her back. He ran an arm up her thigh and underneath those shorts, meeting the silky panties that stretched across her ass.
“Yes?” she breathed, innocent as could be.
“Lay back for me, Effie,” he said, spreading her legs wide as he kissed up her neck. “I want to give you everything you deserve. It’s been so long, honey. I’ve thought about you, about us, so many times. It could drive a man wild.”
She pushed back into the pillows and held his face with both hands, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “Why didn’t you ever come back, Brett? I’ve missed you so much.”
“I don’t know, Ef. I don’t have a good answer. At least, nothing that makes sense anymore. Not an answer that you deserve. Can I make it up to you?”
Effie nodded, and Brett needed no more encouragement. One hand slid right up underneath her top and found her breast, his hard, calloused palm meeting her silken skin. Their lips connected once more, and she gasped into his mouth as he pinched her nipple between thumb and pointer finger. Effie ran her hands up the back of his t-shirt and pulled it off over his head, with her sweatshirt soon following suit.
His dark, curly chest hair created sweet friction between them as they made out topless. With her legs spread wide, he ground himself against her, hard inside his jeans and desperate to be closer to her. Whimpering in response, Effie’s hips bucked up to meet his.
“So eager, princess,” he hummed against her skin as he made his way back down her neck.
“I’m desperate, Brett. Please.” She raked her nails through his hair, then down his sides.
“Desperate, huh?” Brett ran a palm over her breast and splayed it flat against her taut stomach, coming to rest in the soft space right between her hip bones.
She wiggled under his touch. “That’s my pooch.”
“Your pooch?” he laughed.
“Yeah, my little, you know…pooch.”
Brett could hardly imagine that the biggest popstar in the world could be self-conscious of her body. But then, he knew what it meant to be famous and examined endlessly under a microscope. It had been too much for Phoenix to survive—the scrutiny, the criticism, the feedback, the blowback—and no one had ever forced him to diet and exercise or laser the hair off his body to within an inch of its life.
His heart broke for his princess. His stunning princess. Nothing he could say would undo the torture of years maintaining her girlish glow, but he could try.
“You mean the place where your organs live? This spot?” he said, before licking a path beneath her belly button. Effie sucked in a sharp breath. “It’s only one of my favorite spots on your body, honey. After, of course, your beautiful brain and pretty pussy.”
“You have quite the mouth, Brett.”
“I would think you would remember that.” He grinned wickedly up at her.
She laughed darkly, pulling her long hair over one shoulder. “Oh, I could never forget.”
“Come on, princess, tell me more about how desperate you are for me,” he demanded as he kissed his way lower to her holy place. Slowly, he unbuttoned the top of her jeans, planting his lips just below the waistband of her shorts. She squirmed and giggled.
“I’ve never forgotten when we made love in that pool in Santorini. The beautiful, private hotel; the one that Shay booked out for all of us. That night we were up so late, it was basically morning. The sunrise just turning from blue dawn to brilliant pink and the ocean was so dark blue that the stars reflected on it like fucking diamonds. I never wanted you more than that moment, with my arms around your neck. You pushed my bikini bottom aside and slipped all the way inside me, fucking me against the infinity pool wall until I screamed.”
Brett purred against Effie’s skin. The intoxicating memory swirled through his brain, entrancing him and making him, if possible, even stiffer trapped inside his jeans.
“You had to put your full fist over my mouth to shut me up as I kept coming.” Effie sighed at the memory, her hips bucking up against Brett’s lips. “Remember?”
“Oh, I remember, princess,” he growled. “Shay asked me where I got the bite marks.”
“I think he already knew then.”
Brett hummed and nosed along her panty line.
“I wanted you so much then, Brett, but even more so now.” She gasped. “I’m shaking.”
And she was. Her breath stuttered, her breasts heaving, as she rutted her hips against his face.
Instead of pulling her shorts and panties the rest of the way off, Brett nudged lower, over her clothes, burying his face into the apex of her thighs. Her jeans rode up, barely covering anything. Right at the edge of her lacy panties, he nipped her, leaving a violet bud of a bruise in his teeth’s wake.
She hissed through her teeth, gasping and grinding into his face. They weren’t even fully naked, and she was writhing from his touch.
“Princess,” he prodded under her shorts and nosed along the soaked strip of her undies, “you smell so fucking good. Like a goddamn rose. This is all for me, hmm?” Brett teased one finger under the silky border and over the seam of her lips.
“Yes,” she moaned, twisting her hips, eager for more.
“Let’s see if I can get you to come like this, eh?”
Effie gasped as his finger split her open and plunged up to the hilt with one stroke. “I don’t think it’ll take much,” she said between pants.
“That’s what I like to hear, honey.”
Brett nipped and soothed along her inner thigh as he pumped a rhythm with first one finger, then quickly adding another. Her wetness dripped down into the palm of his hand, a shimmering puddle just for him. Effie’s hips met each forceful stroke, increasing the fire between them. With his thumb, he flicked her stiff bud, once, twice, and then that beautiful scream tore from her throat.
“Fuck, I’m coming, Brett.” The words tumbled out of her as she gushed over his hand and onto the sheets.
“You’re stunning, princess. Not even fully naked and you’re a fucking mess for me. I love it.”
“Jesus Christ, Brett. I need you inside of me. Now,” she panted, her hair a messy nest against the pillow.
“Yes ma’am,” he growled, undoing his black jeans and pushing his pants down just enough to take out his rock hard cock. It bobbed to attention as he went to work at her shorts.
“No,” she whined, pushing aside the thin strip of her jeans and panties. “Right now. I just got tested. I’m good to go without protection. You?”
“Yes, all negative.” He grit his teeth and ran a hand along his length. “Look at that perfect fucking pussy.”
He stared at her sparkling entrance, swollen and slick, and begging for him to impale her. They both knew that he’d had a vasectomy years ago, and if they were both clear, then he could plunge into her bare.
“Brett,” she moaned, writhing and focused on his length resting in his palm. “Make me come again.”
Cradling the back of her head, he bent forward and pushed against her opening, slipping just the head inside.
“Fuck princess, you’re just as sweet as I remember.” He shivered, inching the rest of the way slowly inside her.
Once fully sheathed, she reached to grab his ass. “Pound me into the bed, babe,” she commanded, a dark, evil glint flashing in her sapphire eyes.
Brett grabbed her underneath her knees and held her legs up, opening her wider for him. His stomach flipped as his cock slipped even deeper into her and she moaned hungrily.
“Here we go, honey.” His words sounded fuzzy to his ears, like he was hearing himself speak in a dream.
Mercilessly, he hinged his hips back and forth, pistoning her into the bed just as she asked. Her head fell back onto the pillow, long neck exposed to him. Brett kissed along the column, up to her jaw, and then back down again as he maintained the punishing pace. She leaked down onto his thighs, getting wetter by the second, and his heart pulsed in every corner of his body. He felt alive for the first time in years, worshipping at the altar of Effie’s stunning body.
“Fuck princess. This pussy belongs to me.”
She moaned at his words. She whined as he bottomed out with each thrust. And when her thighs started shaking over his arms, he knew his princess was close to coming apart for him again.
“That’s right honey, come on my fucking cock. Soak me and then drain me.”
A deep growl tore out of Effie’s throat as she shattered, her channel contracting around his ramrod cock like a vise. The sensation sent Brett over his own edge, and he dropped his head down onto her chest, pulling a stiff nipple between his teeth. His release flooded her as she whimpered from the added sensation and Brett wished he’d never come down from this high. The aftershocks of her orgasm made her pelvis jump and his sensitive cock twitch.
“You’re a witch, Effie. I’m fucking mesmerized by you,” he whispered against her skin, slowly letting down her legs but still inside her.
She chuckled and then sighed. “You’re the one with the magical staff, Brett. Fucking perfect.”
She stretched up, stealing a kiss and sucking his bottom lip between her teeth, humming with pleasure.
Brett pulled out and sat back on his knees, dripping with both of their release and still hard as a rock. He wanted to see her splayed out for him, used and limp against the pillows.
But Effie tilted her head and flicked an eyebrow. “I want a taste,” she said, apparently unfinished.
Brett’s stomach tightened and he shuddered with desire. “Have at it, princess,” he drawled.
He braced himself as she flipped around, her ass in the air and eyes focused only on his. Without breaking eye contact, she opened her mouth, tongue out. The sight of his glistening cock on her flat tongue was almost enough to send him over the edge right there. Dutifully, his princess took him down until he passed the back of her open throat. Brett grabbed a handful of her hair and held her gaze. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
“You’re so fucking perfect, Effie,” he murmured, tugging just slightly on her hair.
With her lips stretched around his base, she swallowed, her throat working for a taste and increasing the pressure on his hard length. “Jesus,” he cursed, barely able to stay upright any longer.
The look in her eye said she knew she had him right where she wanted him; like fucking putty in her hands. In and out of her mouth, she worked him relentlessly, diligently, driving him closer to another climax.
He chanted “Princess,” a constant plea and praise, amazed by this woman on all fours.
With a thundering groan, he exploded down the back of her throat. She obediently devoured every last drop of his orgasm, never once breaking the intense eye contact.
Brett fell down onto the bed panting like he’d just ran a marathon. “How did I get so lucky?”
“How did we get so lucky?” she murmured, flipping around to lie beside him.
A question he’d never be able to answer. A question that scared the shit out of him.
Brett kissed down her body, memorizing every single detail of her, wishing this spell would never break. Hoping like hell he wouldn’t fuck everything up this time.