Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
HAZEL
I felt so good. I was warm and happy. I must have fallen asleep because Brady startled me when he lifted me into his arms.
I touched his hard chest, wishing I was more aware so I could enjoy this moment. "You don't have to carry me."
"I think I do."
"I can walk," I said weakly.
"Sure, you can."
I rested my cheek against his chest, breathing him in.
"Are you sniffing me?" Brady asked as he opened the door and kicked it closed behind us.
I heard Max's nails scratch on the wood floor.
"Hey, boy. Wait just a minute."
I lifted my head, trying to find Max's sweet face, but the room spun.
Brady touched the side of my head, gently pressing it against his chest. "Let me get you into bed. Then I'll take care of Max."
Were we talking about my vibrator at some point? I had a feeling I said something embarrassing or asked him to give me an orgasm. But I might have been dreaming that. And I wasn't going to ask him about it.
He carried me up the stairs and gently laid me on the covers. He slipped off my shoes.
"I'm so hot. I have to get this off." I reached for my dress, intending to pull it over my head. But my arms were so heavy.
"You want your dress off?"
I flopped back down on the bed with a smile. "Yes, please."
"Are you sure you want me to help?"
I pouted. "I'm so hot."
Brady helped me into a seated position, supporting me with a hand around my back. I couldn't open my eyes. I was exhausted. Then the dress was lifted over my head, and I could feel the air from the ceiling fan on my skin. "That feels good."
I snuggled into Brady's chest, and he lowered me to the bed. "You have too many clothes on."
"Let me get ready for bed, and I'll join you."
"Okay." Had I asked him to help me achieve an orgasm with his fingers? I couldn't have done something so embarrassing, could I? He was my friend. I wasn't supposed to reveal my feelings for him.
Rule number one: No more drinking around my fake fiancé.
Brady slipped out from under me, and I curled on my side. A sheet covered me. It was so cozy, and I was so tired. I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew, an arm was banding around my waist.
I drifted off again, but not before he kissed my hair. It was tender and sweet, and my heart contracted.
The next morning, there was something hot and heavy on me, and my head was pounding.
I couldn't believe I drank so much last night.
It must have been lying to my friends that prompted me to keep drinking, or the stress of pretending I was in love with my best friend.
I wasn't going to survive this little arrangement of ours.
I slowly became aware of my surroundings. It was Brady's arm over my side, his breath in my hair, and his very hard dick nudged against my ass. I didn't dare move or shift. I didn't want him to know I was awake.
It was Brady that shifted first, lifting his arm, his voice gruff from sleep. "How are you feeling this morning?"
I moved onto my back, grabbing the sheet when I realized I was only wearing a lacy bra and thong. "Did you take off my dress?"
"You asked me to," Brady said simply.
"I don't remember." But it was coming back to me in pieces.
I'd complained that it was too hot. I was afraid to ask if I said anything incriminating.
Had I admitted that I was attracted to him?
That I wanted nothing more than for him to kiss me for real.
For him to touch me, to show me what it would be like to have an assisted orgasm.
"I'm sorry. I don't normally drink that much. "
"Were you upset about something?"
I threw an arm over my forehead. "I think having to lie to everyone was stressing me out."
"It won't be for much longer. We have the engagement party. I'll post the pictures. We'll have enough videos by then that I could ask for the family-friendly designation based on that."
"A few more weeks?" I asked, my voice squeaking.
"Yeah, maybe. We'll have to see how it goes."
"I want you to get what you need to make your show successful. I promise I'm okay." Or I would be if I didn't drink at the engagement party. I shifted, holding the sheet over my chest as I steadied myself on an elbow so I could see his face.
"I'm not worried about it. If it gets to be too much, we'll stop. I don't want you to get hurt."
"We've come this far; we might as well finish it.
" I had no desire to move out anyway. I liked coming home to Brady.
He always showered when he got home since he was covered in dust and debris, so he smelled like soap and aftershave.
We'd move around the kitchen, preparing a meal and talking about our day.
Then we'd eat on the deck and take Max for a walk. It was the perfect end to every day, and I wasn't ready to give it up.
"You have fun with the girls last night?"
"Yes." There was a lot of attention on me as the newly engaged one. But I kept drinking, then suggested dancing to avoid the questions about how it was living with Brady. "They wanted to know how the sex is once you move in together."
His brow furrowed. "What were they trying to say? That you have sex more often, or less?"
"I don't know, honestly. Elena is the only one who's living with her boyfriend, and even then, I'm not sure it's official. I guess they were assuming it would be more. There's nothing in the way of kitchen sex."
His eyes widened. "You talk about sex positions and locations?"
"Um. Yes?" Not that I had much to contribute to the conversation.
"I can't imagine that."
"You guys don't talk about it?"
"Other than did you get laid last night? or did you take that girl home? I don't want to know what my brothers are doing in the bedroom or out."
"Yeah, I can see that. But these are my friends. And I guess it's good to know what's normal. All I know is my limited experience with men."
Brady studied me. "What questions do you have?"
My face burned. I couldn't believe I'd brought this up. "Can women have an orgasm during sex without touching herself?"
His gaze was trained on me. "It's possible. If the guy's in tune with what you like and desire. If he's determined to make you come."
There was something so intimate about this moment. We were in bed together, and we were only wearing underwear. I'd never talked about this with a man before. "Maybe that's the issue. I always think I take too long. Then I get all up in my head, and I can't get off."
Brady shifted so that he was facing me. "Are you saying you haven't come with a man?"
"I have, but I have to be the one touching myself."
He reared up so that he was leaning against the pillows. "I would love to see that, but the man should make it a goal to make you come. He should want you to feel good."
I scooted up, careful not to let the sheet drop, to sit next to him. "There's all this pressure during sex. Am I doing it right? Am I taking too long to orgasm? Do I look good naked?"
"I haven't seen all of you, but I've seen enough to know you look good naked. And if you're with the right guy, you wouldn't be thinking about anything other than how good you feel."
I laughed, because that was ridiculous. "Impossible."
Brady leaned in close, and my breath caught. "If we were together, I'd make you feel so good. Just give me the word, and I'll show you what I mean."
"I mean, I don't know, I'm not sure—" What had I gotten myself into? "We're friends," I finally said lamely.
"If you're curious, I'm happy to satisfy that for you."
The thought of Brady satisfying me sent my nerves on high alert.
My nipples were hard points under the lace of the cups, and wetness was pooling in my panties.
The only things that held me back from asking him to do it now were that I hadn't brushed my teeth yet and we were supposed to be friends. Not lovers.
Talk about crossing all the lines. It was a bad idea. Nope. I wouldn't even consider it.
"You're considering it, aren't you?" Brady asked with a smirk.
I smacked his chest, forgetting all about the sheet. "Since when are you so cocky?"
"I'm a good guy, but I'm confident in bed."
I didn't think it was possible, but my cheeks flamed hotter. "I can see that."
"I can make you feel so good."
My heart flip-flopped at the vow I heard in his voice. "Did I ask you to do anything last night? I have this vague memory that I said something embarrassing."
He chuckled. "You might have asked me to ease the ache between your legs."
"Oh, my God." I dropped my head back on the pillow and squeezed my eyes shut. "I can't believe I did that."
"Don't worry. I didn't act on it. You fell asleep after that."
"Of course I did." I finally got the confidence to proposition him, and I promptly fell asleep. "How embarrassing."
"You mentioned something else, about wanting an orgasm that's not you giving yourself one with a vibrator."
I squeezed the pillow tighter. "It just gets worse. Stop talking."
"You don't have anything to be embarrassed by. We're friends. We tell each other things."
"Not about this!" I exclaimed, refusing to open my eyes and look at him. What did he think of me? That I was some kind of hussy when I had a few drinks in me? "You didn't have to tell me about it. You could have pretended nothing happened."
"I'll always be honest with you."
"That's something at least." I could trust Brady with my deepest, darkest secrets. He wouldn't tell anyone else or think less of me.
"I'm going to jump in the shower. Unless you want to go first." I felt the sheets shift, and I threw the covers over my head. "I'm going to stay here until I forget about everything you just said."
He chuckled as he padded across the wood floor to the bathroom.
"Hazel, you don't have anything to be embarrassed about.
If a man didn't please you, that says more about him than you.
And I'm confident the right guy will bring out the passionate side of you.
The one that doesn't worry about what she looks like or if she's doing it right.
That side of you will know she's sexy as fuck. "
I don't think I was breathing as he finished that little speech and then closed the door. The water turned on, and I was still reeling from his carefully worded statement.
The ache in my core had returned, and it was worse than ever. How was I going to survive living with a man who said things like that? And he'd offered to take care of my needs? It was a dream come true, especially since I'd been attracted to him forever.
But it would mess up everything: our friendship, our arrangement. I couldn't take him up on his offer, could I? That would be reckless.
Still buried under the blankets, I imagined Brady coming back out of the bathroom and pulling down the blankets so he could look at me. Then he'd cover my body with his, his hard dick rubbing against the neediest part of mine.
My body was on fire. And he was naked in the shower. I groaned and turned over, throwing off the blankets to avoid the stifling heat. I needed to get out of his bed that smelled like him and away from the sound of the shower where I knew he was naked.
I got up too quickly, then had to wait for the room to stop spinning. I grabbed clothes and rushed into the hallway bathroom, determined to put some distance between me and Brady.
His offer was intriguing but impossible. I couldn't let myself fall into the fantasy of being with Brady. It wasn't real, and we had an expiration date.
I resisted the urge to take care of the ache. I scrubbed the sand from the bar last night off my body and washed my hair. I was determined to feel like a new person when I got out of the shower. I would no longer be the person who was considering Brady's crazy idea.
We couldn't get physical to ease each other's needs. That would be reckless and stupid. And I was neither of those things. I was smart and responsible. I was a rule follower. I wouldn't give in to temptation.
By the time I was dressed and downstairs, Brady had filled the house with the smell of eggs and bacon. There was a glass of ice water on the island with two pain pills next to it.
"You're spoiling me," I told him.
He grinned at me. "That's the idea."
I sighed. "You know I can't take you up on your offer."
"I'm here for you, Hazel. Whatever you need." His gaze was steady on me.
The idea that my best friend should take care of my sexual desire was intriguing, but I would be the responsible one and pretend he hadn't said anything.
Brady turned away from the stove, a spatula in his hand. "My family invited us over to swim this afternoon. We usually grill out afterward."
"That sounds nice," I said before downing the pills and the water.
His voice tentative, he asked, "I thought we could film more shows this morning. If you're still interested in helping me."
"Of course I am." I wanted to support him. That was part of our deal, but he was also my friend. I never wanted to leave him hanging.
He grinned. "It's the start of the perfect day."
"Now if I could just get rid of this hangover."
"Drink up, and your food will be ready shortly."
"You're too good to me," I said, admiring him as he moved around the kitchen, pouring us coffee and throwing toast in the toaster oven.
"It's nothing you don't deserve. I love having you in my space, and you're helping me, remember?"
"How could I forget?" This was an arrangement. And his offer to take care of my needs was part of it. But when he got what he needed for his business, we'd break up. That was always the outcome. Hoping for something else was just a dream. One that would never come true.