She rocks slowly, and I grip her hips lightly, letting her set the pace as she works me. “What does all this mean?” she whispers.
“What do you want it to mean?”
Doubt flickers in her eyes for a heartbeat, and I pinch her nipple, jerking her gaze back to me and the moment. “What do you want?” I demand.
“I want you to fuck me. I want us to have fun and hang out and see what happens.” She hesitates. “I want to be that girl you sang about, Rike. But I don’t know if I can be.”
I shrug and pull her down to my lips, “You already are, Fish. But we can do easy right now. I’m not going anywhere.”
Gratitude flares in her eyes before I kiss her, a deep kiss that says everything she isn’t ready for—all the things I said in a song. That she’s everything. I would fucking hang the moon for this girl.
When I finally break the kiss, she’s panting, and her hips are moving in small, restless circles. I smirk at her. “Wanna give them another show?”
“You’re a kinky bastard, aren’t you?”
She grins and I nod. Groan when she rises on my dick, until only the head is inside her, and she’s panting, these broken little noises as she just lingers there. My hands are on her again, cupping her breasts, and I lick over a nipple.
She screams, her whole body shuddering as she slides down my cock, hard, and my teeth close on her nipple, and I laugh as she fucks me.
I might be a kinky bastard, but she fucking loves it.
Chapter 18 : After
The problem is that I am
Never content.
I want more than your smiles
and
sweet words, more than your mind
I want to be your first and last thought,
the
laughter in your eyes, and safe
haven
you long for.
the press of lips you remember upon waking.
(Rike’s poems to Peyton)
Brody has grown up.
That’s the thing that hits me the hardest. My brother has grown up.
When he steps into the hotel room, he ignores it completely, his gaze narrowed on me.
In theory, I know what Brody should look like: a gangly, teenager with a sly smirk and laughing eyes.
That’s the brother I remember, the one who kept me sane through the hell that was high school and growing up as the daughter to a political family.
The man who stands in front of me. He’s taller than me, long and lean, with a buzz cut hairstyle that screams military, and a sharp gaze that misses nothing as it takes me in.
A smirk turns his lips and I let out a tiny sob. Because just like that, there he is. My baby brother. He opens his arms, and I crutch across the room to hug him. “God, I missed you,” I mutter. “Where the hell have you been?”
“Working,” he says noncommittally, and pulls back. “Why the hell are you in this shithole? I tried the house first, but it looks deserted.”
“Scott hasn’t been there much. I don’t know where Rike is,” I say.
His eyebrows go up and he frowns. “How the hell do you not know where Rike is? Why isn’t he here?”
Because I’m terrified, because I don’t know how to be with him, because I want him so much it’s scary. I don’t say any of that. Just chew on the inside of my cheek while Brody stares at me, and I can watch him puzzle through it, putting the pieces where they belong.
He sighs. “How much did you forget, Pey?”
“Everything. Everything from that last stint in rehab to when I woke up. I remembered Lindsay’s mom’s name, but I couldn’t tell you why. I remember that I don’t like Mom and Dad.”
He snorts. “You’d have to be dead to forget that sweetheart. I assume that’s why you didn’t call them?”
I nod and he grins.
“Good call. So. Tell me what you want.”
I shake my head. “I don’t know.” I’ve thought, so often, about calling Brody. But he’s always been the one to push me, to demand my very best even when he love me at my worst. It’s why I haven’t called. I can’t be my best right now.
“Do you want to go home? Or do you want me to get you away from everything for a while so you can get a grip on things?”
He’s watching me, closely enough that he sees the hope flare in my gaze, and he smirks. “Ok. Then let’s pack you up and get out of here. Ok?”
And just like that, a chapter of my life is closed. Brody goes to work packing up the books and clothes and shit I have in the hotel room, and I direct as much as I can while he ignores me. Tommy comes by and I cry a little, saying goodbye to him. I know that it isn’t the last time I’ll see him, that I have his phone number to call him. That eventually, my life will settle.
But for now, I’m running and there’s no room for him.
And because he’s always been amazing, and just what I need, he merely smiles and waves at me as I drive away with Brody.
My brother eyes me as we hit the expressway that will take us away from Austin.
Away from Rike.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I nod, and he lets out a deep sigh. “Ok. But there’s no harm in being wrong. You can change your mind. And when you do, I’ll still love you. I’ll bring you home, without a word. Do you understand?”
I twist my head to look at him. I do. My brother is an absolute gem. “How did I get so lucky to have a brother like you?” I ask softly.
He laughs. “Well, God had to give you something to compensate for the rest of the family.”
Chapter 19 : Before
“But what the hell is wrong with the couch we have?”
I swallow my laugh as Scott glares across the apartment full of boxes and empty beer cans.
Lindsay narrows her eyes and stares at her boyfriend. “I was one of your one-nighters, Scotty. I’m not a fucking idiot, and that piece of shit pussy magnet is not going to be in my house!”
“I like my couch!”
She pops a hip out and crosses her arms, eyebrows climbing as Peyton comes out of the kitchen with two beers. She’s laughing. “Do you like getting your dick sucked? Because if you keep that? We’re out. I’ve still got my room at the sorority house.”
“Couch goes, bro,” I say from the floor where I’m assembling Peyton’s bookshelves.
“You are so fucking whipped, man,” Scott says.
I shrug, and Peyton sashays over to me, leaning down to kiss me briefly. “He’s not whipped.”
“No, baby. I’m whipped. And if he got to fuck you, he’d be whipped too.”
She flushes and I laugh. Even after six months together, she’s still slightly scandalized by the laissez-faire approach Scott and I have to sex.
When her clothes are on. When I’ve got her naked in my bed, all of that good, proper girl melts away.
“Do we at least get to help pick the damn thing?” Scott demands and Lindsay smirks. I swallow my laugh as I stand, pulling a finished bookcase with me.