“Yes, I know. Okay, um,
subject change. Let’s shag.” No thinking, no talking, just mindless fucking.
He laughs easily. “I’m
game,” he says, pulling me against him and moving me down on to the floor,
between the sofa and the coffee table. “Since you like my carpet so much, wait
right there. I need to get a new condom.” Oh, yeah, mindless fucking on
his carpet.
“Those jeans need to come
off,” I call after him.
No more love talk, no more
love talk, no more stupid bloody love talk.
“She’s falling in love with you?” Saffron says,
beaming with pleasure and surprise.
We’re sitting at her
breakfast bar. Adam is working and Nathaniel is taking a nap, so it’s just the
two of us.
I nod in answer to her
question, because I don’t know what the fuck else to do. Resting my elbows on
the table, I rub my eyes with the heels of my hands. I look at Saffron. She’s
still surprised and now a little worried, and no doubt from my behavior right
now. I smile and try to think of something to say to ease the concerns I don’t
want her to have. Fuck. Me.
“You’re not okay with it,”
she says, her voice becoming gentle.
“Not really.”
“But you said the same
thing.”
“I didn’t want her to feel
like shit.”
She sighs, shaking her head.
“That’s not fair, Dane. You shouldn’t have said it if you didn’t mean it.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t mean
it.”
Saff reaches across the
table, taking hold of my hand. “Don’t resist it.”
“I don’t want it.”
“Give it a chance.”
“I knew it was different
with her pretty much from the start, right? It was always gonna be all or
nothing with her, and I was cool with the possibility of it coming to that, but
no way in hell was I expecting it to get so deep. And damn this is fast.”
“Brooklyn’s obviously right
for you. Don’t try to fight it, Dane.” Her tone is strong and determined, and I
can imagine what kind of talks Nathaniel will be getting in the future. God
knows, I’m proud of my sister.
On perfect timing with my
thoughts, my nephew starts to cry. Saffron gets up to go to him.
She comes back to the
breakfast bar with Nathaniel in her arms, seated on her hip. The little dude
looks blurry eyed with one side of his curly hair flat from lying down.
“Don’t laugh at my son.” Her
brows knit together in genuine disapproval.
“He looks super cute.” I’m
unable to stop smiling.
“You can do it,” she says,
full of certainty.
“I have to try.”
Saff gazes adoringly at her
boy, who’s starting to look more alert. He yawns, his mouth opening into a wide
‘O’. I find myself doing the same freaking thing into my cupped palm.
“You’ll be a great dad some
day,” she says with an expression that tells me she’s testing for my response
to that. I hate it when she switches from nice little sister to annoying little
sister, and that’s about to happen now.
“Nothing’s changed on that
front, Saffron. I’m not having kids.”
“You shouldn’t rule it out.
Less than three weeks ago you didn’t even know Brooklyn existed. Now look at
you both – almost in love. Does she want children?”
I pull my attention from
Nathaniel and look her in the eyes. “Let’s not focus too heavily on the love
thing. As you said, less than three weeks ago we didn’t even know each other
existed.”
“You didn’t answer my
question,” she says, intentionally evading my gaze. Instead, she’s running her
fingers through Nathaniel’s loose, light brown curls.
“We haven’t spoken about it
– why would we? We’ve only been together three days. This could all be over in
weeks. I don’t even know how long she’ll be in the U.S. for, so don’t go
getting ideas.”
I only came to talk about
this because I needed to get it out of my head, and Saff and I always discuss
issues with each other. It’s two days on since Brooklyn said what she said and
we’ve both done a great job of acting like it never happened, but it’s remained
firmly on my mind. Spending time with Brooklyn, getting to know her, was easy.
Moving into a relationship with her felt natural and it was the only option,
because as long as she was in San Francisco I’d have wanted her and there was
no middle ground between platonic friends and being fully together. Not only
because she wouldn’t have accepted that, but because, for the first time in
years, I didn’t want as little as that.
I didn’t want Brooklyn just
to be some chick I fucked.
Love is too much.
Other emotions that I don’t
want are coming to the surface with it; they’re the price I pay for feeling
this way. I don’t fucking want any of it, and I had no intention of doing this
thing with Brooklyn more than one day at a damn time.
“Say what you like, Dane,
this is it for you. Don’t forget I’ve known you my entire thirty-two years.”
“Listen, I’ve got to go,
Brooklyn’s due over.” This conversation needs to stop, the direction it’s taken
is far off what I came for.
“Look at that, your fourth
night in a row. You two are eager.”
“Your son is present, so I
won’t respond the way I’d like to.”
“Whatever. Just relax, go
with it, and don’t over-think things. You’ve always been way too much of a
thinker. Enjoy your new relationship, and things will be perfect. You deserve
this, big brother. Now come and kiss your nephew goodbye.”
Lying on the sofa alongside Brooklyn, I can’t decide
whether I’ve done the right thing getting with her. There are so many thoughts
in my head right now I can’t decipher them individually, they’re all tangled
with emotions I had come to think I wasn’t even capable of. I can’t figure out
why she’s gotten to me on a deeper level, and so fast, things would be a lot
easier for me if that wasn’t the case.
The only thing I’m sure of
is that I can’t hurt her, so I have to try.
Brooklyn’s on her back with
her head turned the way of the TV. I’m on my side and the only thing I’m
watching is her. Together like this, we fit the sofa just right.
We seem to fit each other
just right, too.
An alarm on Brooklyn’s cell
sounds and she reaches for it on the coffee table to turn it off. She searches
inside her purse on the floor and then puts something in her mouth.
“What was that?” I ask, my
curiosity getting the better of me.
Returning to her previous
position, she looks at me. “The pill.”
“You’re on the pill?”
“Yeah, I have been since I
was sixteen. I like knowing exactly when my period will be and that I can avoid
it altogether if I need to. Plus, I was always massively paranoid about an
unwanted pregnancy, so I wanted taking it to be a normal everyday habit. I had
to change the time I take it since leaving the UK, so I need my alarm to remind
me now.”
“Okay.”
As she continues watching
the show that’s on, I stir on this new information with interest. Interest I
wouldn’t have expected to have. The only woman I ever had sex without a condom
with was my girlfriend, Nadine, way back. Regardless of whether they said they
were taking birth control, I was never willing to put that degree of trust in
someone that I’d take them without additional protection. Not only to avoid
anything sexually transmitted, but no way on earth was I chancing a
pregnancy.
I almost can’t resist the
idea of taking Brooklyn without that latex barrier between us. Feel her flesh-to-flesh
and come inside her. Those thoughts are making me hard already.
What the fuck is wrong with
me?
Brooklyn’s focus is still on
the TV, and mine isn’t coming back from where it’s gone, even though I’m trying
to pull it back. I have to do this. I have to take her and it be just the two
of us.
Brooklyn’s gaze swings to
mine when I open the button on her loose-fitting jeans. I lower the zipper and
slide my hand into her panties, over the subtle strip of hair and in between
her lips. I’m trying to talk myself out of this, because all I can sense is us
getting deep, really fast, and doing what I want to do right now will only take
us deeper.
As her soft walls encase my
finger, I know I have to feel her bare around my cock. I can’t seem to make
myself fight it.
“Do you trust me?” I ask.
The nod she responds with is
slight, but her eyes tell me she’s certain. Only she knows how truthful she’s
being and that depends on what she thinks I mean by my question. Really, what
I’m asking is whether she trusts me enough to let me take her without a condom.
Here, tonight, right now.
I
know she can. And I trust her, I know she’s wise –
this wouldn’t even be a consideration if I didn’t believe that. The only risk
I’d be taking is an emotional one, which is a big deal, but I can’t reflect on
that right now.
All I can concentrate on is
how much I want this.
The pleasure Brooklyn’s
expression holds takes away any final trace of reason. I remove my hand from
her panties and reach for the remote control, hitting the power button. After
climbing over her, to get off the sofa, I scoop her up in my arms and head to
the bedroom.
I lay her down on the bed
and turn on the side light.
Once I have us naked, I lie
over Brooklyn, supporting myself on my forearms, and lower my hips down in
between her thighs. I love the feel of her bare and beneath me; slight and
fragile, yet strong and durable at the same time. When I kiss her, Brooklyn
tilts her hips to press her pussy against me. I look down into her heavy-lidded
eyes. “You
can
trust me, but tell me if it’s not what you want, okay?”
She gazes at me, curiously.
With my hand, I guide the tip of my dick in place, without making contact, and
wait. Brooklyn looks down between us, in recognition. Her gaze returning to
mine, she pulls on my hips. Slowly, I press forward until her –
oh shit
– slick folds part for the head of my cock. Fuck. Her entrance grasps me so
tightly, a surge of sensation striking me. She’s so damn divine. I continue
until I’m completely enclosed by her, all warm and compliant. I become
motionless. “You okay?”
“Yes,” she says and the
soft, aroused sound of her voice is added stimuli I really don’t need right
now. “You can trust me, too.”
“I know.”
With steady thrusts, the
moist ridges of her passage caress my shaft. Taking Brooklyn with a condom was
insane, she’s got the sweetest pussy I’ve ever had the privilege of finding
myself buried in. Now, without that latex barrier, I feel like a damn virgin.
Keeping the depth shallow and resisting the urge to go faster, so I can gain
some control and avoid coming in the next sixty fucking seconds, I fight
against the almost overpowering stimulation.
Brooklyn’s gentle sighs and
tender moans are like the greatest music to my ears, adding to the sensory
overload. But hell if it doesn’t make me more determined to last. Her legs wrap
around my waist, she strokes my back and catches my bottom lip between her
teeth. She’s really not making things easy for me.
When I feel myself on the
verge, in perfect timing, the spasms around my cock along with the nails
pressing into my triceps and the beautiful, beautiful sound of Brooklyn by my
ear tell me she’s right there too.
As the tension in Brooklyn’s
body goes, I speed up with longer, slightly harder thrusts. I’m so close, but
something more dominant than my physical reactions intervenes.
In the final moment, I pull
out and come all over her lower tummy, biting back my angry curse. What the
fuck was I thinking?
I’m caught up in too many
feelings to focus on them singularly, but one thing’s for sure, the usual
ecstasy associated with climax isn’t first in line. My cheek to Brooklyn’s, I
am so pissed at myself I can’t even look at her.
“Um … if that was part of
the plan–”
“It wasn’t,” I cut in. Fucking
shit.
“Okay, I’m not sure what
your problem is,” Brooklyn says, her tone low but hard, “but you obviously have
no concerns about catching something from me, or you wouldn’t have just had sex
with me without a condom. Just so you know, and I really do want you to know
this, it
wasn’t
a decision I took lightly. For that reason I’m not happy
with the way this just ended. I can assure you I do everything in my power to
avoid getting pregnant, so if that’s what you’re worried about, you can leave
the worrying to me.”
I want to say something,
explain myself, but that means saying I got scared.
That means sharing things
about me I don’t want to share.
“Can you get off me, I need
to clean up.” She pushes against my chest.
Now I force myself up enough
to look down at her face. Hell, as hard as her gaze is, I can see she’s hurt.
I’m the ass of all fucking asses. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to do that.
Let me clean you up.”
“No thanks, I’ll do it
myself.” She’s still pissed and pushes harder, so I move away.
She gets up and heads across
to the bathroom. The door closes and locks, and no doubt Brooklyn Scott hates
the hell out of me from the other side. On this side, as I lay staring at the
door between us, I become clear about one thing – one emotion, among all my
chaotic, fucked up thoughts and feelings.
And it’s the complete
opposite of hate.