Don't Make Me Beautiful (39 page)

BOOK: Don't Make Me Beautiful
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“Hmmmm, I like the sound of that.”
 
He drops onto his back next to her, pulling a condom out and rolling it down over his hard-on.
 
When he’s done, he remains there, doing nothing.

She sits partway up, confused.
 
“What are you doing?”

He wiggles into the covers a little and shuts his eyes.
 
Reaching down, he takes his cock in hand and points it to the ceiling.
 
“I’m waiting for you to get on top and get busy.”

She laughs.
 
“Are you insane?”

He cracks one eye open.
 
“Who me?
 
Nope, I’m completely and totally sane.
 
And about to go nuts with wanting to be inside you, so if you could hurry up about it?”
 
He closes his eyes again.

She feels her face going red.
 
“I’ve never been on top.”

“It’s just like riding a bike.
 
Hop on and start pedaling.
 
I’ll help hold you up so you don’t put too much pressure on your knee.”

She’s been telling him for days that the knee is completely fine.
 
She’s sure it won’t be a problem, and seeing his arousal is too much for her.
 
She can’t
not
do this, even though it’s intimidating and a whole lot embarrassing.
 
She gets up awkwardly with only one arm to steady herself, standing over him on the bed, straddling him on either side with her feet.

“Now what?” she asks, looking down at him.

He looks first at his cock and then up at the place between her legs.
 
“Well, I’ve been told I’m well endowed, but I’m pretty sure it’s not
that
long.”

She giggles.
 
“I’m coming down there in just a minute.”

“I hope so,” he says, swaying his cock around a little.
 
“Don’t wait too long, though.”

She lowers herself first to one knee and then the other, feeling the tip of his cock pressing against her folds as she puts the second knee to the mattress.
 
Testing the pressure, she finds that it doesn’t hurt.
 
“Oh,” she says with a small gasp as the head pushes past her barrier to find her opening.

“Oh, is right,” he says, closing his eyes and pulsing his hips up once, very slowly.

She eases herself down over him, taking him in, inch by inch, everything smooth as silk.

He hisses out a long breath as she brings herself to the point where their bodies are touching.
 
She waits for a few seconds as her body adjusts to having him inside her, stretching her to the limit.

“Oh, babe.
 
Be careful,” he says, his voice barely a whisper.

“Be careful of what?” she asks, moving her hips a little.
 
She loves feeling him all the way at the end of her and at the entrance too, at the same time. She controls the stretching, the tingling, the movement of her clit across his hard abdomen.

More hot wetness appears and makes his rod slick.
 
She eases up and then down again, reveling in the shocks to her system.
 
At the bottom again, she moves in small circles, building the heat, feeling something coming for her.
 
It’s something both pleasant and frightening. She’s never felt this before, not with anyone.

“Holy shit, I’m going to come soon,” Brian says.
 
He sounds angry.
 
“Fuck.
 
You’re doing this to me, you bad girl.”

The idea of being a bad girl and bringing him to his knees is some kind of crazy aphrodisiac.
 
She knows exactly what he means when he says it’s already happening.
 
She feels it too, a wave of something bigger than her, bigger than her past, her problems, and her immediate concerns.
 
Life fades away into the background as the heat between them takes center stage. Nothing else matters right now.

His hips pull back as his hands push her upwards.
 
Then he brings their bodies crashing together with a sharp upward thrust of his cock and a yanking down of her hips.

She moans with it, trying to keep moving in a complimentary rhythm.
 
Up and down and around.
 
They both move to build the passion, in perfect synchronicity.

“Babe … babe, this feels so good.
 
You’re so good at this,” he says, his voice low and raspy.

She glances down to find him staring up at her.

“Don’t look at me,” she cries, worried he’ll suddenly go cold seeing her face.

“Fuck that,” he growls, grabbing her around the waist and flipping her over onto her back, mindful of her casted arm and knee, and making sure they’re both out of the way before he continues.
 
Hooking an arm under her good leg, he hikes her knee up and pushes into her.
 
“Oh, yeah,” he says, his eyes closing for a moment before he looks at her again.

“I told you to stop looking at me,” she whispers.
 
She moans as he pushes into her again and grinds against her in small circles and then up and back.

“I love looking at you.
 
I’ll never stop looking at you.”
 
He grits his teeth and speaks through them, as if he’s exercising extreme control.
 
“Now get ready.”

“Get ready for what?” she asks, barely able to get the words out.

He says nothing.
 
Instead, he increases his pace, slamming into her forcefully with quick, sharp flicks of his hips.

Whereas this kind of lovemaking would have panicked her in the past, this time, it’s exactly what she wants.
 
She cries out with the ecstasy of having a man love her and give her what she wants without her even knowing what it could be.

The pulses that were building deep inside her reach a crescendo.
 
She opens her legs as wide as she can to give him full access, and he buries himself even deeper.

It’s too much.

Too much too fast.

She screams as wave after wave of heat and orgasm consume her.

He shouts in her ear.
 
“Nicole!”
 
He’s grunting past each heavy breath, his entire body driving into her as if he’s having seizures.

“Brian!” she screams, holding onto him with every ounce of strength she has in her one good arm.
 
No more words will come.
 
All sentences she might have been putting together to express how he’s making her feel fall into a million muddled pieces.
 
She can’t speak anymore. Nothing makes sense in this moment.
 
Maybe it never will again.

The room goes black and she’s floating in another place. She’s not in his house anymore or the neighborhood where she’s lost so much; she’s been absorbed into the feelings they have between them.
 
It’s a nice, safe place she’s not in any hurry to leave.
 
Pulsing up her hips, she finds she can extend the sensation that much longer, until she gets to the point that it’s painful.

It’s then that she finally stops and comes back down to Earth.
 
A long sigh escapes her, accompanied by a whimper of satisfaction as she once again joins the real world and re-enters her life.

“Did I hurt you?” Brian asks, kissing her forehead, putting most of his weight on her.

“My knee is a little sore.” She says, her eyes still closed.

“Oh, shit.
 
Sorry about that.”
 
He slowly withdraws from her and falls back onto the bed next to her.
 
A moment later, he sits up and touches her knee gently.
 
“Does that hurt?”

“A little.”
 
She should have known better than to put her weight on it like that, but it was just too tempting to ignore.
 
Life’s too short to worry about injured body parts.
 
She laughs at the ridiculousness of the thought.
 
She feels drunk or high on drugs maybe.
 
For the first time, she knows what love-drunk means, and she almost can’t believe it applies to her.

“I’m going to get you some ice.”
 
His weight leaves the bed.

“Get me some food!” she yells.

Minutes later he’s back in the room with a bag of ice and a sack full of Chinese.
 
“Did someone say food?”
 
He puts the ice on her knee and hands her a small, long package.
 
“Your chopsticks, my love.”

Chapter Fifty-Five

BRIAN COULD HAVE LAIN IN bed all night and the next day with Nicole, but today is her big day.
 
He forces her to get up and get showered, even while she moans and groans through the whole process.
 
He even blow-dries her hair for her, doing his best to style it.

“Not bad,” she says, looking in the mirror as he bends down and kisses her neck. “You did well with what little hair I have left.”

“I love playing with your hair.
 
I’ll do that every day if you want.
 
It’s growing back.
 
And it’s nice and soft.”
 
He runs some of it through his fingers and then puts it under his nose, closing his eyes and smelling it, wanting to memorize her scent.

“I want today to not happen,” she says, her expression going dark.
 
She looks sad.

“Why? Today’s the day we move forward in a big way.
 
While we wait for the call, we can take a walk, we could talk about your possible surgery or the weather or Agnes’s garden party she invited us to for next month. Whatever you want.”

“Are those my only choices?”

“Do you have something better in mind?”
 
He lifts a lascivious eyebrow at her.

“Don’t even …,” she warns, trying to sound stern, “my you-know-what is so sore right now.”


Your
you-know-what?
 
What about
my
you-know-what?
 
I’m chapped.”

“Ew, gross!” she says, slapping him away.
 
“Go over there.
 
I can’t concentrate when you’re so near me.”

He moves away and stares at her.
 
“I like that about you.
 
It’s a very attractive quality, you know, your inability to focus on anything when I have a hard-on.”

She can’t help but laugh at him. “You’re such a guy sometimes.”

“I hope so,” he says, crossing his arms.

“You’re one of those bad boys.”

“Aw, come on.
 
I’m an angel.”

“Fine.
 
One part devil and nine parts angel.”

“You like that mix, don’t try and deny it.”

She sighs.
 
“I admit.
 
It’s probably close to perfect for me.”

“Are you regretting what we did?
 
Last night I mean?” he asks, moving close again.

“No.
 
Not at all.
 
I’m just hoping I can stay out of jail so we can … you know…”
 
She looks down into her lap.

“Move forward. Together.”

She nods.

“You believe me now, I hope,” he says, gently massaging her shoulders, “that I think you’re beautiful.”

“Yes.
 
I believe you when you say you find me attractive.
 
I’m going to set up an eye doctor appointment for you later.”

He bends down and kisses her head.
 
“Shush.
 
I’ve got perfect vision.
 
I proved it last night.
 
Besides … maybe you can fool the eyes, but you can’t fool the dick.”

She laughs, twisting around in her seat.
 
“Rude!”

“No, seriously.
 
I proved to you last night how attractive I find you.
 
Try and deny it.”

She shakes her head.
 
“No.
 
I’m not even going to try.”

“So what do you want to do today then?
 
While we wait.”
 
He squats down next to her chair so he can look her in the eyes.

She takes a deep breath and lets it out.
 
“I want to plan Kitten’s funeral.
 
Regardless of where I end up tomorrow, I want to get that done.”

“Okay, fine,” he says, matter-of-factly and without hesitation.
 
“Let’s do this.”
 
He gets up and holds out his hand.

“You’re too easy,” she says, taking his offer of help and standing up.
 
Together they move towards the living room.

“Do you want me to be difficult?”

“Hell no.
 
Stay easy.
 
I like easy.”

“Done,” he says, getting a pen and paper out of the drawer.
 
He puts them down on the table and motions to the seat in front of him.
 
“Sit here and write whatever you want for her on this list.
 
I’ll make sure it happens.”

She stares at the paper and then at him. “That easy?”

“Didn’t we already cover this?”

She smiles.
 
He can tell she’s working very hard at not letting any tears come.

“You’re too good to me,” she says, her voice wobbly.

He moves close and kisses her on the forehead.
 
“I figure I have a lot of bad memories to erase from this head of yours before I can even get started on making happy ones.
 
I’m working double time to catch up.”

“There are some things I’ll never forget,” she says.
 
“I’m permanently scarred on the outside and the inside.
 
No matter what you say or do, I’ll always be less of who I used to be.”

He takes her face in his hands and looks right into her eyes.
 

Different
, not less.
 
And you probably shouldn’t forget everything.
 
Certainly not Kitten and not the things that are making you a stronger person right now.”
 
He lets her go and steps around her seat, walking towards the door to the garage. “I’m going to go work on something in the shop.
 
Give me a shout when you’re tired of being alone.”

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