Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“Mhm.”
We’re both silent, her naked body against mine, as I trace her soft skin from her ribs to the curve in her hip. I’m drifting off when I hear her whisper, “I’ve missed you.”
You can’t miss something you never had, but I don’t correct her, because I feel it, too. Being with Briar like this feels like what I’ve been missing my entire life.
It’s a shame it won’t last.
I wake up, my mouth drier than Gandhi’s flip-flop, to curious, delicate fingers, tentatively skimming the sensitive underside of my cock. Briar traces my frenum piercings, and I groan at the sensation, my hips jerking forward of their own volition. Her eyes snap up to mine.
I got these piercings on a drunken dare before I was even old enough. Adrian’s doing, of course. Instead of simply accepting the challenge, I had to show off by getting two. I figured I could remove them, but it turns out they make sex a lot more fun. And right now, as Briar plays with me like I’m her new favorite toy, I’m definitely not regretting it.
“Good morning,” she says, part seductress, part innocent, before she licks the length of my dick. I shudder when her tongue brushes over my barbells, bringing my hands to rest behind my head.
“I’d say so.” My hips flex. Briar flicks underneath the tip with her tongue a couple of times before closing her mouth around me.
“Wrap your hand around it,” I say. She does as instructed, her tiny fist working my shaft while her mouth works my head.
“Yeah. Fuck yeah, like that. Squeeze harder.”
She does.
“Look at me. Let me see those pretty blues while your perfect lips are wrapped around my cock.”
I’m already close to coming, but when her eyes meet mine, I’m ready to flip her over and bury myself inside her. I start to do just that, but then I hear a voice that stops us both dead in our tracks.
“Hello? Where are my children, and what has happened to my house?”
“Oh my God,” Briar whispers, panic infused in her voice. “What is my mom doing here? You have to go!”
“No shit,” I say, already feeling around on the floor next to the bed for my boxers. Fuck. We left our clothes by the pool. And a blunt. And alcohol and my semen, but who’s counting? Briar grabs a white dress out of her drawer that looks like something the old Briar would wear and carelessly pulls it over her head before smoothing out her just-fucked hair.
“Shit, shit, shit,” she whispers, pulling her underwear up her legs. “I’ll see you later.”
Knowing we don’t have time for pleasantries, I give her a nod before I crawl through the window and jump down, ready to hit the back entrance for my keys and clothes. Before I can take a single step, Briar jerks me back by my shoulder, catching me off guard. She smashes her lips to mine, her hands gripping my hair, and kisses the shit out of me. She sucks on my tongue, and when I nip at her bottom lip, she moans into my mouth. She pulls back slightly, lips puffy, cheeks flushed, and eyes wild, ending the kiss just as abruptly as it began.
“Come see me tonight?” she asks, nervously sucking on her lip. Only our foreheads touch, and my hands are braced on either side of the window frame. Those four insignificant words trip me up. I’ve never had anyone waiting for me, wanting to see me, not for anything other than a quick fuck, at least. I take that back. I’ve never wanted anyone waiting on me. I’ve had the occasional stage-five clinger, and with anyone else, it always felt like the walls were closing in on me. But, when Briar does it, I feel like maybe I have a place in this world.
My initial thought is to say no. I tell myself that I shouldn’t let her get attached. But who the fuck am I kidding? We’re beyond attached. She’s in my head, my fucking veins, and in whatever’s left of my heart, whether either one of us likes it or not.
“I’ll be here.”
Chapter 8
Briar
The moment Asher walks away, my mom barges into my room. I whip around, trying to look casual as I lean an elbow on the windowsill.
“What happened to your hair?” she gasps, pinching the strands between two fingers to inspect it.
“Nice to see you, too, Mom,” I say, leaning in for an obligatory hug. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry. Am I no longer allowed in my own home?” she asks, dramatic as ever.
“You know what I mean,” I say, barely containing my eye roll. Mom sighs, smoothing my hair out of my face.
“You’d know if you ever picked up your phone. Your father is speaking at the Smiles 4 Kids gala tonight.”