The Marriage Pact (2 page)

“Here, let me help you,” he said as he climbed out of the water. The rays of fading sunlight shimmered on his body, illuminating the beads of water running along his bare skin.

For the first time since I’d laid eyes on him, the sight of him left me speechless. I watched, mesmerized by the vision he made, running his hands through his wet hair. When had he gotten so…
good-looking
? It was never a word I thought I’d use when describing Brody, but it fit him to a tee. I was ogling his trim, muscled stomach when he turned my way.

I couldn’t look him in the eye—one look at my blush and he’d know what I’d been doing. I felt so embarrassed and ashamed of myself and yet, I wanted so badly to sneak one more peek. Maybe I’d imagined it. Maybe when I looked back over, he’d be the same old goofy Brody I hated to love and loved to hate. We were like… brother and sister.

Unable to take it anymore, I looked back over. Yep, same abs. Same broad shoulders. Crap. The feelings consuming me were definitely not sisterly.

Brody seemed oblivious to the turmoil raging inside me as he took the towel and unfolded it. I could feel him behind me and the next thing I knew, I felt the warmth of the towel combined with the heat from his arms coming around me.

“What?” I gasped, tilting my head up to look at him. When had he gotten so much taller than me? How could I not have noticed before now?

He leaned down and brushed his lips across my cheek, gentle as a whisper. “You have the prettiest nose.”

My skin was tingling where his lips had touched and I was staring at him with a mix of excitement and astonishment. Did that just happen? Had he
kissed
me? In fact, it looked like he might do it again, but as his words penetrated the fog my brain was in, I threw my head back and laughed. “I have the prettiest
what
?”

His brow furrowed. “What? What’d I say?”

“Brody, seriously. No
girl wants to hear you like her nose! That’s just… well, it’s weird!”

“Well, it’s true, I don’t care if it’s weird. You
do
have a cute nose. It’s like a button or something.”

“Uh, yeah, because people with buttons for noses wouldn’t look the least bit like the X-men?”

“Dude, do you even watch that show, seriously? Every time you bring it up I get the feeling you just change the channel.”

“Fine, come by next Saturday. We’ll watch it together.”

“Deal.” He solemnly held out his hand and with a giggle, I reached out and shook it. This time, he wasn’t some cute guy who made my body act all hot and tingly. He was just my friend, the same one I’d had for the last five years.

I could look back now and realize that it never could have stayed that way. Even if we hadn’t done the obvious, expected thing and started dating, he would have started dating someone who wouldn’t like him hanging out with another girl in his down time. No matter what, we wouldn’t have been able to keep having sleepovers and seeing each other in swimsuits without it getting weird one way or another.

By the time that I realized what was happening, that something was changing inside me, kids in the halls had been calling us Bro-shan for so long it really did feel like we were joined at the hip. No one so much as batted an eye when we became a couple. Even my parents seemed relieved that my first boyfriend was someone they knew. When I’d told them, Mom had smiled a little while Dad said, “It could be worse, huh?”

In a lot of ways, it felt like nothing really changed. We still spent every free moment together—I just happened to occasionally notice how well he filled out a t-shirt with his drool-worthy abs. OK, so maybe it was more than occasionally, but what girl would blame me?

None, as it turned out. Even though Brody and I were one of the firsts to pair up and declare ourselves ‘going out,’ it didn’t stop girls from looking his way when they thought I wasn’t watching. One or two had openly propositioned him, but Brody just shrugged off all the attention with a laugh. “Sorry, but I’ve already got a girl,” he would say, slinging his arm around my shoulders and hugging me close.

In a small town like ours, it didn’t take long for even the new girls in town to get word pretty quick that he was taken. By the time I turned seventeen, people asked me more about whether or not Brody had popped the question than where I was applying to college. Even Mom and Dad had accepted Brody as an indisputable member of the family.

Maybe it was because everyone expected it to happen sooner or later that Brody proposed a week before graduation. Thankfully, it wasn’t a public display; we had been at home—our two houses had long since felt like ‘home’ no matter which one we were at. No matter how much time passed, the memory of that day often came rushing back at me without warning.

We were watching
Casablanca
—even if he’d never admit it to the boys on the basketball court, Brody was an old movie buff and he liked chick-flicks, so long as they were in black and white. Sunlight was streaming in the open window, accompanied by a light breeze and the humming of birdsong outside. It was a picturesque day, but just a normal Sunday afternoon in our small town that we often took for granted.

“I saw some beer in the fridge,” he said casually. “Want one?”

“What if we get caught?” I asked, wrinkling my nose at the word
beer
. He knew I could hardly stand the stuff. It seemed to smell like sweat and football, both of which I found distasteful. But there was a part of me that was still caught up in trying to impress him after all these years, so if he had one, he knew I would, too.

He chuckled and reached over to stroke my cheek fondly. “You’re so damn cute, you know that?”

The rich, deep sound of his laughter never failed to make me flush with pleasure. I batted my eyelashes at him just to hear him laugh again. “You really think so?”

“You know I do. And what are you worried about, anyway? You’ll be legal in three years. No big deal.”

I started to point out that three years was still a long way off, but in the end I shrugged. “OK. Sure.”

The movie was just getting started and Ingrid Bergman had just walked into the bar.

“Hurry up, Brody, or you’re going to miss it!” I called out. The first time Sam played ‘As Time Goes By’ was his favorite scene.

“I’m coming already!” he called back. He walked into the living room moments later and handed me a cold can of beer, watching me expectantly.

“You have horrible taste in beverages,” I commented before opening the can and taking small, timid swallows until I couldn’t stand it anymore. I winced as the liquid went down my throat. Neither of us was that into drinking, whatever else we might have said to our classmates, which was why I was surprised to see that Brody had already downed his can.

“But I have wonderful taste in women.” He winked.

“Flatterer!” I accused.

“Want another?” he asked, turning back toward the kitchen.

“Brody!” I exclaimed with a laugh. “What are you doing, trying to get me drunk?”

“Of course not. I just want you to be relaxed.”

“Come on, sit down.” I patted the couch invitingly. “You’re not even watching the movie.”

He shrugged, but it made me look at him closer. Normally, ‘watch a movie’ was code for make out. Usually, after the first five minutes we were on each other as hot and heavy as a frying pan that had been left on the stove too long. The only exception was his black-and-whites, which was why I was appraising him thoughtfully.

When he sat down beside me, I moved until I was straddling his lap and cupped his face in my hands. “You don’t have to go to all this trouble to get laid. You know that.”

“Shan—”

“Shh.” I leaned over and inhaled the scent of his cologne right before I bit down gently on his neck. It was a move he was never able to resist and I often used that knowledge to my advantage.

“Shana. Wait a minute.” He pushed with gentle hands until I stopped. I sat back, staring at him in surprise. “I just want to talk.”

“Talk?” I laughed. “Sure, let’s talk.” I leaned forward and captured his mouth with mine, nibbling down on his bottom lip. I could feel his resistance, but damn, I was horny. I felt the exact moment when he gave in: when I slid my tongue in his mouth and his intertwined with mine, I knew whatever he had to say, he’d decided to save it for later.

“All right, if that’s how you want it,” he growled, his voice husky as he picked me up and deposited me back on the couch, towering over me.

“Brody, wait. Maybe we should—”

“Oh, no, don’t try to distract me. You have to finish what you started.” He leaned down and kissed me with so much pent-up passion that it stole my breath away.

“But—”

Another kiss silenced me and I gave up, giving into the sweet taste of him, the gentle but insistent pressure of his lips on mine. After we’d kissed until our lips were swollen, he pulled my t-shirt over my head and pitched it onto the floor. I was already unhooking my bra—my breasts spilled out, my nipples already hard and aching for his touch.

He obliged, immediately putting his lips on my left nipple and alternatingly kissing and suckling until I thought I would cream my panties then and there. He must have known it, too, because when he pulled back he gave me a lazy, boyish grin that never failed to turn my insides to mush.

I wished he’d at least let us take this party to the bedroom, but part of the thrill for Brody was the prospect of getting caught and I was too wound up with arousal to care very much about anything else just then.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered throatily as he pulled my pants and panties down with one hand while the other squeezed and fondled my right breast.

“Shut up and do me already,” I said with a grin. It was an inside joke between us, the same thing I’d said when Brody had been busy confessing his love while I’d been a horny virgin. It wasn’t very romantic, but it did make us laugh when remembering our first time.

Brody unzipped his fly—the sound of it never failed to make me shiver in anticipation—and wasted no time in plunging into my soaking wet pussy. He thrust in and out and I raised my hips to meet him every time. When I clenched my pelvic muscles around his cock, I heard his breath quicken. “God, Shan,” he ground out.

I couldn’t answer because I was lost in a sea of sensation. Pleasure flowed through my veins until I was practically shivering from the heat of it. I knew I was nearing my climax, but I was in no hurry to get there. I liked feeling him inside me, seeing his face as he tried to bring us both to the brink of ecstasy.

When he stopped and pulled out, it was a minute before I understood what was going on. “Brody?” I propped myself up on an elbow to look at him.

He gave me that same easy grin. “Your turn.”

“What?”

“Ride me, Shan.”

I could feel my thighs slick with moisture and my craving felt insatiable. I moved toward him and pushed him back onto the couch, rather forcefully, but he just laughed. I turned my attention to his hard cock, also shiny with my juices. I took it in my hand and moved up and down his length until I had him groaning. “A kiss for luck?” I suggested just before I took it in my mouth, tasting him.

“Shan,” he rasped out, but I kept going, moving my lips up and down until he was hard as a rock.

Only then did I straddle him and lower myself onto his waiting cock. I saw him grit his teeth and shut his eyes and I felt a heady rush at being able to make him feel this way. Is this how he felt when he made me orgasm? Spurred by the thought, I rode him hard and fast, enjoying the feel of my breasts bouncing up and down as I did.

Brody enjoyed it, too, if the expression on his face was anything to go by. When I felt his muscles go taut, I knew he was close. I reached down and cupped his balls, giving them a gentle squeeze to seal the deal. Our orgasms were almost simultaneous. Just as Brody was groaning his release, the first wave crested over me and my body rocked with the force of it. As the second wave was building, I collapsed on top of him, breathing heavily.

Brody pulled me to him, caressing my sweaty hair as I rode to the top of my summit. It would have been a hard road down, if he hadn’t been right there. We lay in silence for a few minutes, concentrating on inhaling and exhaling, which was all we could do right then.

When my blood began to cool down, I turned to Brody and smiled. He looked sleepy and I knew I probably did, too. I reached out and stroked his cheek, grinning as my fingers caressed his stubble. His mom was always after him to shave more. In that moment, I thought things would always be as perfect as they were just then. I should have known better; things can never stay the same.

“We should get dressed,” I suggested as I sat up.

He smiled back and I looked at him expectantly, unable to see the train that was headed for me. He didn’t give me any clue; he didn’t drop to one knee or anything like that. Instead, he took my hands in his and rocked my world with a sentence. “I love you so much, Shana Rae. Willyoumarryme?”

It came out in a jumbled rush that took me a minute to decipher. But I’d been deciphering Brody for a long time and I knew that he always talked super-fast when he was nervous. When the words untangled themselves and their message reached my brain, I felt frozen in time, stuck in between knowing that what we had was precious and knowing it couldn’t last—wouldn’t last, once I broke his heart.

Once I thought about it, I found it strange that I didn’t feel excited, like I’d always pictured myself being when he popped the question. I wasn’t anything, I thought when I looked deeper. I felt numb, paralyzed by the staggering disappointment I alone knew was coming. I tried to keep my breathing even and my pulse steady.

“Shan?” He laughed nervously.

I forced myself to smile even as my heart was breaking. I looked at him, taking it all in while we were still in this moment, before the hope in his eyes evaporated. His light brown hair was still spiked a bit up top, no matter how many times he tried to brush it down. His brown eyes had specks of green in them that shone deep and dark as emeralds after we made love. Every time I saw the green glittering beneath the brown, my sex clenched even as my heart became light. He had sharp features and a high forehead—the face of a man meshed with the face of a boy who was still growing into his natural good looks. My eyes lingered to his lips—those soft, pink kissable lips. On impulse, I leaned forward and brushed my lips over his. I sighed when I pulled away—it was now or never.