Page 46 of Mayhem

Our heightened state deflates into an afterglow that seems to radiate from the two of us. That was perfection. Even in all my imaginings of us together, it was never that good. This is going to be hard to beat. But, fuck, if I’m not willing to try.

“Holy shit,” Tess says in a half-whisper, half-sigh, half-laugh. Fuck math, it’s beautiful. She’s beautiful. Her skin is flushed and there’s a slight sheen of sweat on her forehead and chest. She’s the most amazing being I’ve ever seen.

Whoa. Easy there, cowboy.

“Was that alright?” I ask, floundering for words to put in the right order that make any sort of sense. I know it was, because I could feel that it was, but obviously, my brain is currently compromised.

She smacks me playfully on the chest. “You’re kidding, right? That was amazing.”

Still inside her, I kiss her and grab her ass and give one long final thrust. Just a taste of what more there is ahead of us. Because fucking hell, there had better be more of this.

A lot more.

28

BESIDE MYSELF

TESS

So, Brad’s got some surprises up his sleeve too. Noted.

Very much appreciated, and noted, that is. Holy shit that was amazing. I was hoping for something along these lines for dessert, but never did I anticipate it being the appetizer. Of course, now, my actual appetite has kicked in, and as we’re cleaning up my stomach grumbles loudly.

Brad comes up behind me, sliding his arms around my waist as he nuzzles into my neck. It’s simply delicious, and something I could get used to. “Now that right there’s a hunger I unfortunately can’t satisfy.” His short whiskers tickle my skin as he trails kisses along my shoulder.

“Don’t worry your pretty head, I’ve got dinner covered,” I say, leaning back into him. I’d melt right here and now into a puddle on the floor if I could. But then, neither of us would eat, so there’s that.

“Pretty head, huh?” he chuckles, his breath warm on my exposed skin, as his long hair drapes over me. “You think I’m pretty?”

“I think you’re beautiful, yeah,” I say before thinking about what words are coming out of my mouth. Once what I said hits me, I freeze. I’m not lying, but it might be a bit much. Too much too soon.

“No, you’re beautiful,” he says, spinning me back around and pulling his t-shirt over my head, then straightening it. Something in his eyes when he says and does this makes the butterflies in my chest go berserk. Compliments are one thing, but when they’re said with that much emotion and conviction, it makes me want to believe he means it.

“Thank you,” I say quietly, lifting on my toes to kiss him. It’s all I can think of to say, and I can barely get the words out I’m so taken with him. As he pulls me into a deeper kiss, my mind starts to whirl.

What is going on here? I’ve slept with hot guys before. I’ve been in relationships with passionate people. Most of them turned out to be assholes, sure, but at the time I thought it was special. This is different somehow, and I don’t know what it is. This feels deeper in a way that I can’t describe. Like we’d never be able to reach the bottom of the well of emotions between us. It's daunting and exhilarating at the same time.

I want to see where this goes because I think it could be something amazing. Something mind blowing. And not just the sex, as incredible as it was. Something real is sparking between us now, and once it ignites, I get the feeling we’d be unstoppable.

When we finally break apart and come up for air once again, it takes me a minute to pull myself together. I could easily lose myself in all things Brad – his charisma and charm, his sex appeal, his humor, his…everything. Do I really want to do that? Lose myself? Would it really be that bad if I did? Isn’t that what’s held me back before? Fear of letting myself go and just letting someone love me?

It is. I’ve been known to self-sabotage like the best of them. Well, when I wasn’t getting fucked over, at least. It’s either one or the other, and it makes me wonder which one this is going to be since that’s all there apparently is.

No, I refuse to self-sabotage this. I’m going to let this be whatever it is, because I can tell it will be worth it in the end.

If that’s true, then why is there a little voice in the back of my head telling me to be careful? Guard my heart? Keep the walls up just a little bit longer to see how things play out without getting too wrapped up in it?

Shut up little voice. I’m not listening to you.

29

PILLOWTALK

BRAD

I’m buying Charlie a fucking pony.

I don’t know for sure if it was her idea of the flowers that tipped things over the edge, or what, but God damn, that was the best fucking date I’ve ever had in my life.

---