Page 40 of Filthy Boy

“She sounds like a badass,” I whisper. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

“She is.” He nods. “She really is.”

When I finish cleaning his hand, I touch his shirt. “I’ll throw this in the washing machine.”

Slowly, he pulls the bloodstained shirt over his head. But when I start to stand up, he splays his hand across my thigh. Something about the way his fingertips press into my skin feels different. Desperate.Possessivealmost.

“Bria…” He sounds anxious. “You left today, and I knew something was wrong. I could tell. And now, you just…you’re not you. We’re not us. And this feels so fucking weird right now. And to be honest, I hate it.”

“Nothing is wrong,” I lie. “I just had some stuff to do—that’s all.”

“Bullshit,” he grumbles. “Bull-fucking-shit, Bria.” His hand grips tighter on my thigh. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not,” I say, sucking in a breath. Every cell in my being is now painfully aware of his touch.

“Something is off.” His eyes float to my lips, and his hand moves to my waist. “And I get it. Because ever since you told me you’ve never experienced what it feels like to come…all I can think about is making you come so hard that you see what you’ve been missing.”

The tingle between my legs intensifies. And my heart speeds up. “R-really?”

“It’s been fucking torture,” he rasps. “But I’m scared to lose you, Wildflower. Scared that if we cross a line…we’ll never make it back. To us.”

“I don’t know if I can go back anyway,” I mutter. “It’s not easy…being around you.”

I want to tell him I love him. I want to beg him to just give me a chance. Us a chance. And not just a half-assed chance. A real one. Because if he did that, if we threw caution to the wind and he just trusted me, we’d never look back. But I know him enough to know that’ll scare the shit out of him and he’ll bolt. So, instead, I say nothing.

“If we do this whole friends-with-benefits thing,” he says, his hand cupping my side, “we have to keep the sex part strictly hot and easy. No handholding or coupley sort of shit. If feelings get involved, we’re fucked.” He takes a breath. “But let’s be honest. We’re probably fucked anyway.”

“Probably,” I whisper, agreeing with him but knowing damn well that I’m still not going to put a stop to it. “What about our pact?”

“I don’t know,” he admits. “All I know is, I feel like I might die from wanting you so bad. So, maybe…maybe we keep it separate. The sex needs to be just that. Sex.”

“So, you’re saying…meaningless sex?”

“Yeah. Fucking,” he says bluntly. “Using each other to get off. Dirty, filthy sex. Whatever fantasies live inside that screwed-up part of your brain that you don’t tell the world, let me bring them to life. I’m not going to be the guy who makes love to you, Bria. But making you scream while your toes curl and your eyes roll back? That I can do. I promise you that much.”

“And our friendship?”

“We draw a line. When we’re together, hanging out, we aren’t romantic and shit. We’re friends. But when it comes time to get down and dirty? You’d better be ready to ride my cock like you’ve been waiting for that pussy to come your whole life. Because you have.”

Biting my lip, I suck in a breath. “So, this means the pact is off?”

“I’m still probably not going to drink. And as far as fighting goes, besides on the ice, I’ll try my best to avoid that too.”

“But we can have sex? Like…with other people too?” I blush.

“You’ll be too sore to even think about another man’s dick, sweetheart.” He smirks. “And as many ways as I plan to take you? I know I’m not going to have the energy to fuck another woman.” His eyes eat me alive as he stares at me, completely raw and open. “And something tells me you’ll fulfill any needs I have.”

I don’t answer. I just focus on not ripping his clothes off because that might make me seem too eager.

“Oh, and one more thing,” he says suddenly. “Before we start, let’s talk about birth control. I’ve never had sex without a condom. But with you—if you trust me, that is—I’d make an exception.”

“I have an IUD.” I bite my lip. “As long as you’re…you know, clean.” Before he answers, I blurt out, “Which I am. I promise.”

“I’m clean too, babe. Swear it.” He winks. “And the thought of taking you raw? Jesus. Fucking. Christ. I can’t wait. My cock is swelling, just thinking about it.”

Suddenly, I feel nervous about this. Sure, it’s what I’ve wanted. Sort of. But in this moment, I’m no longer seeing Brody as the kind, sweet, goofy guy I’ve come to love. I’m seeing filthy Brody. Who’s making me squirm just by speaking. With his gravelly voice and his darkening eyes. Even his hand on my body feels different now. Like, finally, there’s some weight behind it.

“This will probably fuck up everything as we know it. But somehow, I know that nothing could stop us from doing it anyway.”

---