Page 78 of The Breaking Point

“You’re sassy tonight.” He flicked my arm. “But yeah, I did. I want us to date.”

“What?”

“I want to take you out on real dates. No more of this sneaking around and shit. You deserve better than that.” He looked away. “And I don’t think the club is the best place to get to know each other either.”

My shoulders fell. “But I really enjoyed our ... encounter there.”

“I know you did. I did, too. But the club isn’t reality. It’s manufactured. It’s all a fantasy.” His gaze was serious as he looked at me. “I want to experience more than that with you. I want to experience reality with you.”

I didn’t know what to say. I reached out to touch him, but he pulled away from me.

He let out a bitter laugh. “I’m about to pounce on you, so maybe don’t touch me.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?”

“I’m trying to be chivalrous here. We haven’t even gone on a date yet.”

He rose from the bed. “Good night, Grace,” he said before shutting the door behind him.

I was mystified. I was elated. I was annoyed.

But right at that moment, I was still horny as hell. Brady had interrupted me before I’d come, damn him. I lay down and opened my robe.

I wondered if Brady was going to jerk off in his room. I could just imagine him pulling his cock out, already half hard. It wouldn’t take long for him to be fully erect.

How big was he? I had a feeling that he’d be huge. Thick and veiny and pulsing with desire. In my vision of him stroking himself, there was a bead of precum at the tip that slowly dripped down the side.

Would he be thinking about me? I hoped so. I rubbed my clit as I thought about him increasing the speed of his strokes. His fist would tighten, a grimace on his face, his toes curling as he felt his own orgasm building inside him.

I thought of him shouting as he came, semen spurting from the tip. I imagined it hitting my tongue the exact moment my own orgasm slammed into me. I came with a scream I bit back just in time, all too aware that the walls in this place were probably thin. The waves hit me, seemingly endless, my body completely out of my own control.

I felt like my bones had melted. I tossed the robe aside and climbed under the covers. Yawning, I fell asleep within moments, my dreams filled with Brady.

The following Saturday after we’d all flown back to LA, I went to dinner with my mom. When she’d suggested inviting Dad as well, I’d told her that I needed some motherly advice.

“You mean you don’t want your dad flipping his lid,” Mom had said.

We’d gotten Mexican at one of our favorite places and had gone to a nearby beach to walk around. It was a warm evening, and plenty of people were out and about on the beach.

“So what’s up?” Mom asked me as we sat down on a bench.

I wiped my suddenly sweating palms on my jeans. “Um, it’s about Brady.”

“I figured.”

“He wants us to date.”

That made Mom’s eyebrows go up. “Reallllly?” she drawled. “Now, I hadn’t expected that.”

“He says he wants to see if we could be good for each other. But I’m not so sure. Would Dad freak out if we started dating?”

Mom was silent for a moment, then she sighed. “I hate to say it, honey, but I don’t think your father would approve of you dating Brady. I mean, you know his reputation. Since when has he even been in a serious relationship? Did he say he’d be monogamous?”

“I think so.” But now I wondered whether I should’ve asked Brady to be crystal clear.

“Brady isn’t a bad guy, but he’s not the right guy for you. You two are from completely different worlds. Brady grew up on the wrong side of the tracks, if you catch my drift.”

Now, I was offended on Brady’s behalf. “I never thought you’d be judgmental like that.”

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