“Call me Bramble.”
“Anything you want.”
“Do it,” she gasped.
“Bramble.”
She threw her head back. Her every muscle tensed from the gentle pressure I applied to her clit. I watched as her orgasm overcame her. She was so beautiful, just like this, just like always.
I didn’t stop touching her until her body settled. Even then, I couldn’t seem to take my hands away. I could spend lifetimesexploring the expanse of her soft skin. I needed to touch her more than I needed air to breathe.
She smiled a shy smile back up at me. “That was wow.”
“I aim to please.”
She pushed me gently off of her.
I let her, curious what she meant to do next.
“So do I,” she said on a soft exhale.
We knelt together and she stroked me, her head against my chest. I held my arm around her, my fingers clutched into her hip.
She watched my face with sweetness and determination as she ran her fist up and down my length. I could get lost here on the beach with her for an eternity and gladly forget the rest of the world existed. No matter how long it lasted, it wasn’t long enough, but I came staring into the depths of her endlessly brown eyes.
And when it was done, I felt a relief I hadn’t expected. The physical release was great, yeah, but that wasn’t the feeling that lingered in my chest. It was contentment instead. It didn’t feel wrong to touch each other like this. It didn’t feel like we were risking our friendship. It felt right.
And I realized then that Jules had been right about me. I was weird about Esme. My feelings for Esme were complicated, and I didn’t quite know what to do with that.
TWENTY
ESME
My brain buzzed with unwanted thoughts and sensations throughout the night. I dreamed of Jasper, of exploring his taut, tattooed skin, of his hands on my breasts and his cock buried deep inside of me. That last bit didn’t even really happen. In reality, after the whole orgasming jazz, we’d sat together, me snuggled into his side. My sleep brain didn’t care about reality, though. My sleep brain was a dick-obsessed horn-ball apparently, which I guessed was still better than spending the night trapped in another dream about First Contact.
When I woke, I needed a long cold shower before I was able to face anyone, let alone the man who’d consumed my dreams.
Pregnancy hormones were no joke.
Now that it was late afternoon and we were standing side by side in the cave for the wedding rehearsal, I could practically feel the heat of his skin even though we weren’t touching. Worse, memories from last night’s beach rendezvous mingled with the faux memories of my dreams. It was all I could do not to burst into a flaming pepper of bright red embarrassment.
I felt like a fraud standing here as a groomsbabe, supposedly supporting my brother.
A brand new pang of worry bloomed in my gut, that I was being weird and someone would notice. And they knew. How could they not? I was going to expose both of us for the deviants we were, all with a blush and a look of awkward, guilty discomfort.
Fortunately for me, everyone was otherwise occupied.
Phone flashlights lit the periphery of the cave where the candles would be on Thursday for the actual event. On the other side of our little arc lineup, Layana’s sisters flanked Juno and Morgan, with the happy couple in the middle of us all. Layana beamed at Gabe, while Chester chattered on about what would be said during the ceremony.
I needed to pay attention. I needed to focus on anything but the broadness of Jasper’s shoulders, the easy strength in his biceps, or how tall he was. Everything about him was big, yet he’d been gentle with me.
“We’re gathered. These two beautiful people are committed to eternal monogamy,” Chester said. “We’ll gather again in two days to celebrate their promises.”
How was I supposed to pay attention? Even when I was looking at Gabe and Layana, I had to look past Jasper. Why did he have to have such an artfully carved jawline?
“They’ll tie their finances together,” Chester said. “They’ll probably pop out a litter of stunning little cherubs before long.”
Gabe bristled.