Escalation Clause (10 page)

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Authors: Liz Crowe

BOOK: Escalation Clause
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“You are the most beautiful woman on the planet.” He said, running his hands down her thighs and kneeling between her legs. “I want to taste first, my sweet Maureen. I need to…” he nibbled his way down from her belly button. She squirmed, draped a leg over his shoulder. She smelled just like he wanted—spicy, sultry, all woman. All his. His brain shut down. He flicked at the nub of flesh poking out of its hood, sucking and tugging her towards orgasm. He slipped a finger into her, thinking he would start this way, so it was less shocking, while she was coming and unaware of the pain. But she put a hand on his.

“No,” she choked out. “Not that way. I want you inside me Brandis. Your cock, in me, I’ve wanted it for months. I…I love you.” He smiled and grabbed a condom from the bedside drawer. He would not do that to her, not after he’d rough fucked that girl bareback earlier. No way. Mo was his woman, and he would do right by her.

“I know my sweet, I know. And I will, I promise.”

She swallowed hard, tugged him down to her lips. “Then what are you waiting for?”

“I honestly don’t know,” he admitted. “I want to be inside you, too, but slow, easy, okay?”

She nodded and the eager-but-nervous look in her eyes nearly made him stop. She arched up, propped a foot on the bed and he slid between her legs as if he’d been born for it, born for her. “Now, Brandis,” she whispered, nearly making him come in the damn condom before he’d even entered her willing body. Sweat slicked their skin, the combined smell of their mutual lust swirled in his head. The candlelight flickered as their lips met. She angled her hips, and he could feel her heat through the latex. He groaned, trying like hell to hold back.

She broke the kiss, put her hands on his face. “Please,” she sucked in a breath as he pressed inside, the sweet velvet glove feel of her exactly as he imagined it, the tight grip of her instantly familiar, but so much more. She tensed, so he stopped, ran a hand down her face, to her breasts before leaning down to suck a large, responsive nipple between his lips.

 She relaxed, as he knew she would. He kept the head of his cock inside her, resisting the urge to thrust hard, put his mark on her. He got a mental grip on himself, dispelled the caveman and willed himself to slow down.

Mo blew out a breath, loosened even further when he moved to her other nipple, nuzzling then sucking then biting down making her moan and move into him again. Her hips moved, rolled, pulling him inside with a natural motion. “Okay, baby, I need to do this now, ready?”

She nodded. “I’m scared. Kiss me,” her voice was hoarse.

“You’re safe,” he whispered he pressed in further, encountering the expected resistance and deepening their kiss while holding her close, using slow, firm strokes. She cried out, broke the kiss and stared at him, tears in her eyes. He stopped, his whole body tense yet crying out for him to move, faster, harder. “I love you, Maureen. Let me in. It’s okay.” At his words she nodded, wrapped her legs around his waist, and gave everything she had to him.

His skin prickled and a knee-jerk orgasm lit the edges of his consciousness at the sensation of something releasing, opening, taking him so deep he met her cries with his own. They moved together, slowly then faster, he kept his pubic bone pressed to her clit, buried inside her, feeling her stretch to accommodate him.

“I’m not gonna last long.” He grunted as her pussy contracted, leaned her head back and gave a low, long moan of satisfaction as she came all around him, making him see stars and explode inside her. The candle flickered, went out and they lay in the dark, connected, entangled.

Brandis had never, in his entire life, felt more complete.

 

 

 

The surprisingly sharp, piercing pain subsided leaving a low ache that Mo utterly ignored, she was so sated and happy, with her arms and legs wrapped around Brandis’ strong form. He shivered all over in the aftermath of his orgasm, a little quirk she knew she would come to love, then pressed kisses all over her breasts, neck and face, maintaining their most intimate connection all the while. She honestly had not believed she would come from penetration, not the first time anyway, but that just showed how little she knew and how much she had to learn at the hands of this man. As she relaxed again after the pure pulse of orgasm that had surprised her, he slowly withdrew, making her gasp with renewed sting. He pulled out all way, stood, and removed the condom. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

She shook her head, a little dazed from the force and intensity of the encounter, her heart still thudding so loudly she was afraid the entire house would hear it. She lay still, letting her body absorb what happened, closed her eyes and smiled when Brandis returned with a warm wet cloth he used to gently wipe her clean. “Why are you sorry?” She tugged him down when he returned. “I’m not. Not one bit.”

“I know, it’s just…,” he ran a finger down her face, making her skin pebble. “Such a big step and I’m…honored. And a little panicked about the fact we did this here, right over your brother’s head.”

She rolled onto her side, wincing at the ache between her legs, propped on her arm, and stared into his dark brown eyes. “I love you, Brandis Taylor. I know I’m only eighteen and whatever, and too young and blah, blah, but I don’t care.” She cradled his rough face with her hand. “I realize you have to leave, and I’m okay with that, but…I don’t know how long I can wait. Let’s get married.”

He laughed, and rolled onto his back, bringing her with him. She straddled his hips. “Ow,” she gasped, but he tugged her down and kissed away the pain.

“No, my sweet Maureen. That would likely end with your brother in jail for the murder of his friend. But…,” he touched her nose, ran the finger down her check, her neck, and across her newly hardened nipple. She shifted, loving how she reacted to his simple touch. His dark, handsome face got serious. He held her hips still. “Don’t. You aren’t ready for more, not yet.”

“How do you know?” She leaned down and kissed him, used her lips and tongue on the delicious mocha skin of his neck, the deep brown of his nipple. She knew this was a trigger for him, and she sighed in delight when his cock started to twitch and come to life against her. “I think I am….” She worked her way back up and captured his lips.

“Mmm….” He cupped her breasts, pushed her up so he could grab her nipples in his mouth, sending an erotic zing of pleasure to her core. She wiggled against him some more, then winced, when reality hit her nerve endings. He released her, plucked her up off his hips and down by his side, curving around her back, holding her close.

She snuggled into his embrace. “This is perfect.” She meant it, but knew it was a temporary thing. She had many lonesome days and nights ahead of her.
“He’s leaving, you know,”
her brother’s voice pierced her satisfied, sleepy fog.

“What?” Brandis tightened his arms around her, his lips soft against the back of her neck. “Relax. I’ve got you.”

“Do you?” she sighed into his skin, loving the smell of him.

“Always, my sweet Maureen.” His voice faded, then he was still and silent, his breathing evening out in sleep. “You should go.”

“I know,” she sighed and drifted to sleep.

Her dreams were a muddle of images—Brandis and her, a strange house, Jack, angry but dressed in a tuxedo for some reason, her long-dead mother softly drunk as usual, her father—her eyes flew open at the sound of a loud bang.

“Yo, dickhead, rise and shine!” Jack’s voice broke through the dreams and became quickly real. “It’s time to clean…holy… shit.”

She stiffened, rolled up and clutched the blanket to her naked chest. Her brother, tall and handsome, her friend and protector for her entire life, stood in the doorway of Brandis’ bedroom. He clutched the doorjamb, staring at her, then at Brandis who rolled over and sat. His blue eyes were dark, scary. She gulped and started to speak. He pointed to her but kept his eyes on Brandis.

“Get dressed. Go to my car. Do not say a word.”

She sat still, staring at him. Brandis rose, tugged on a pair of shorts, tossed her a shirt, and stood, arms crossed. “It’s okay,” he said slowly, softly, as if calming a rabid dog trapped in a corner. “Truly, Jack, it’s….”

Jack moved so fast she screamed. He yanked Brandis’ arm, turned him and had him pinned on the floor in an instant, his knee to the man’s neck. “I warned you.” He growled. Mo jumped up, threw her clothes on and started pounding on Jack’s shoulders. “Get off me Mo.” He held her off with one hand. But it was just enough slack in his grip to allow Brandis to yank his wrist free, roll and stand. He hit Jack hard, twice, and the sound of her brother’s nose breaking made her cry out. The men grappled, throwing punches, both of them landing a few and swinging wild, until the other guys in the house came running.

They pulled the men apart and she stood right between them staring first at Jack. Blood streamed down his face, his eyes were furious. She pointed at him. “Stop it, God damn you. Stop it, right now. I don’t need you to protect me. Not from him.”

Jack spat a mouthful of blood onto Brandis’ rug as answer. She stepped right into his face. “I love him. Get the fuck over it.”

She looked at the roommate behind her brother. “Let him go.” The guy looked doubtful, but did what she said. Jack glared at them all then turned and stomped down the steps. Brandis’ friend released him and he started after Jack, but Mo held out her hand. “Give him a few minutes. Let me go first.” Brandis frowned at her. She grabbed his arms. “You have to trust me on this Brandis.” She kissed his cheek then followed her brother down the steps.

She found him on the back porch, a bag of frozen fruit pressed to his face. He moved away when she dropped down next to him. She let him pout a few minutes, then handed him a wet towel. He glared at her, but took it and wiped his bloody face. “He is not what you need Mo, I mean it.” His voice was muffled.

The soreness between her legs had not abated, if anything had gotten worse but she loved it. She put her hand on Jack’s shoulder. “It’s too late brother. I love him.”

“Jesus,” he turned to her. “The guy has never sustained a relationship with a woman in his life. What makes you think this is any different? Why are you so special?”

She started to speak but Brandis’ deep voice interrupted her. “So help me Gordon, if you keep spouting that bullshit I am gonna….”

“What,” Jack interrupted the man who’d come out onto the back porch, cradling his sore arm. “Break my other nose? Christ.” Jack spit again, then put the bag back on his face. Mo tried hard not to laugh, but it started, and she couldn’t stop. Brandis pulled her to her feet, and chuckled with her. Finally, Jack looked up at them, both with tears streaming down their faces and smiled. “Fuck. You and my sister, Taylor? I would have never guessed. I will go on record as saying I still don’t like it.”

Brandis held her close, kissed her cheek. She snaked her arm around his waist. “It’s okay, Jack,” she said, leaning into her man’s strong torso. “You’ll get used to it.”

Chapter Seven

 

Brandis pushed open his parents’ front door. A strange buzzing anticipation made him antsy. He patted the dog, shook his father’s’ hand, hugged his mother and followed them into the kitchen. He was taking Maureen out two nights before he left for Colorado. His heart was broken already, but he had to man up. Had to convince her to wait for him, no matter what.

He looked up when his father stared at him. “Huh?” He accepted the beer bottle his mother handed him. “Sorry, Dad. What did you say?”

“I said, son, that I hope you have carefully considered the consequences of your actions this summer.”

“Um, sure.” He purposefully kept it light as if he didn’t fully understand what the man was talking about.

His mother yanked his earlobe, making him yelp in pain. “Boy, you are not listening to your father are you?”

“Ow! Shit, Mom,” he hollered when she tightened her pinch hold on his flesh.

“Brandis Martin Taylor, you will not be doing this with Maureen do you hear me?” He groaned. Who’d spilled it anyway? He pictured all the erotic moments he’d shared with Mo in the last week right in this very house, hell, in his mother’s kitchen. “Don’t you give me that shit-eating grin young man.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He shrugged, meaning it. He had nothing but respect for his parents, appreciated how hard they worked for his and Denise’s futures. “I…I love her, Mom. Really.”

“Oh son,” his father intoned behind them. “You’re just a pup. Barely a man. How would you know….”

“You shut your mouth, Anthony,” his mother barked, making him smile, but then directed her anger to him. “You will not hurt her, do you understand me? That girl is already part of this family. Whatever you think you know now, you’d better be sure because I will sure as shit come upside your fool head if you hurt her. Do you hear me?” She shook him twice for good measure. He grinned.

“Yeah, Ma, I get it. No problem. Trust me, I have no intention of hurting her. Ow! Jesus!” She tightened her grip into a pinch.

“Don’t you blaspheme in my house….”

Mo chose that moment to make an appearance in the kitchen, a small bag over her shoulder, her smile shy but incredibly sexy to him. He grinned at her then winced at his mother’s hold on his ear.

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