Page 137 of Not Over You

When he came to that date at the Tapas place and I saw it was him, I was stunned not because it was not a stranger. I was shocked to realize how glad I was that it was Bran. That I had a good excuse to see him, to talk to him, and yes, to go on a date with him. Not that we ever got to the date part that night. I flush as I recall how quickly we wound up back at his place and in his bed.

Bran has always had that effect on me. One look, one touch, hell just one word, and I want him. What he does to my body, to my very damn soul, is like nothing else. I crave him long after we’ve connected the way we do and I used to joke that he was like my own brand of liquor. Burns going down but warms me up and leaves me intoxicated long after he finishes.

It’s been a few weeks since our would-be date, and I have barely left his house since. We spent most of the weekend in his bed, remembering how to please each other and finding new things that turned us on. By Monday, I was exhausted, and he wouldn't let me leave so he told me to stay and rest.

When he came home in the middle of the afternoon and woke me with ice in his mouth as he sucked on my clit, I thought about never leaving again. We wound up in the shower together and I stood beneath the hot spray, just letting him hold me. I felt as if he was holding me together after he had torn me apart.

After that, I just never left his place. I make us dinner when he comes home, and he always pulls me into his lap so he can feed me. We snuggle on the couch and watch our favorite horror movies and make out like we did when we were kids. Last week, we spent two days in Crystal Cove, seeing all of our favorite spots and hiding out together.

We have yet to call it anything and we rarely leave his place, and I think we like that it’s just ours right now. When we dated before, everyone knew where you saw Bran, you saw Paisley. I don’t think we know what it is this time, so we don’t want to let people assume or and ask us questions we can’t answer.

Plus, sneaking sex when we have yet to tell people we’re even talking has been pretty fun.

“I miss you,” he whispers on the phone now as I lie in his big bed, recalling our lovemaking from this morning, I snuggle into his pillow that smells of him and smile, feeling so light I could float away on the airy breeze.

“I miss you too,” I admit, wondering how he gets me to be so open, “want me to visit you for lunch? Maybe we act like teenagers in the back of your truck?”

“Pais, baby, let me take you out. I don’t want to hide. Do you not want anyone to know you’re with me again?” his voice is so soft, so full of pain and I shoot up on the bed, frowning. Am I trying to hide us? I mean, are we even an us again?

“I didn’t....no, I never wanted to...no, Bran. No, baby. I guess I don’t know what...I mean, am I with you again?”

It’s been almost two months since I have been home and more than half of that I have spent with him. How can I even question that? Hailee and Connor asked me where I was sneaking off too, knowing damn well I was going to Bran’s place. We are not hiding anything—except from one another.

“Yes, you are,” he growls, and my lady parts salute his possessive tone, “I went without you for years, Pais. I don’t want to go without you any longer. I... fuck, I miss you all the time. I want you all the time. Coming home to you being there, it’s been the best fucking feeling in my life. I fucked up with you before and I might fuck up again, but don’t...let me have you, Paisley,” his words are passionate, and tears burn my eyes as I curl up with his pillow again.

“Why did you let me leave without you then? If you wanted me, why did you just...let me go?” I cry, swiping at my tears.

“Because I was stupid! I thought I could never be enough for you. And hell, baby, maybe I can’t be, but I want to be. Pais if I need to sneak off and hide to have you, I will do it. I will do whatever you ask. But you deserve better than sneaking around.”

Unable to help myself, I grin. God, I love him. I have not said it again and neither has he, but I still feel the same way I did all those years ago. It never lessened or changed, even when I tried to make it change. When I tried to hate him or blame him for my heartache, this part of me that belongs to him refused.

“Maybe not,” I whisper as a flood of need overtakes me, “maybe I like to sneak around because it turns me on. Being your secret. Hiding in the shadows while you do dirty things to me. I like it, Bran,” I rasp, turning to lie back, my thighs trembling as I walk my hand down them.

“Fuck Paisley,” he growls, and I hear a door slam on his end, “you get so wet when I take you somewhere to fuck you dirty. You do like it, don’t you? Riding my cock in the backseat or being bent over my desk with the blinds drawn. Fuck. Where you at, baby?” he husks and I close my eyes, imagining him behind his desk, looking like a sexy boss.

“In your bed. In your shirt,” I reply softly, pulling the shirt up so it bunches beneath my breasts, “I wish you were here. It smells like you, and I love how you smell, baby,” I moan, running my hand down my body, heading south.

“Goddamn babe. You got panties on?” he mumbles roughly.

“No,” I breathe, my hands shoving between my legs, “no panties. If I were, you could not see how wet I am.”

“Fuck. Touch yourself for me, baby,” he demands harshly, “tell me how soft you touch your pussy. How you rub at that swollen clit and make yourself come while I listen. Fuck you get so loud when you get hot. Have to cover that filthy mouth when I'm fucking you raw and you start to talk so dirty, so loud. Gets me so goddamn hard, baby.”

“Bran,” I moan, slipping my fingers between my wet folds, “come home. I want you to fuck me until I talk filthy. I want to be loud while I take your cock. I need you.”

“Tell me you belong to me while you play with your pussy,” he hisses and I can just make out his pants unzipping, “let me hear you say you are my girl, Paisley. I need to hear you say it.”

“Yes. Yes, I am yours,” I whimper as I start rubbing at my swollen clit, “I never stopped being yours, Bran. Always yours. Please...please, I want you now,” I pant, edging my climax so fast. But he keeps me strung so tight on that edge, sometimes it just takes a kiss at my pussy or the slap of his cock before he pushes inside me, and I come.

“Fucking right, babe,” he rasps as his breathing comes faster, “always. Mine. Fucking mine, Paisley. When I get home, I want you waiting for me. Waiting with that juicy cunt, knowing I am going to pound you hard for making me jerk my cock in my office. You ought to be here riding me, shouting how deep you want my dick in that velvet pussy. Fuck, babe, come with me,” he grunts, and I close my eyes tight, visualizing him stroking his shaft hard, fast, grunting as he starts to come.

“Yes, yes, baby,” I whimper, loudly, hips lifting off the bed, “Jesus, fuck! I’m coming. I’m so wet, Bran. God, it hurts. I need you to fill me up, so it doesn’t hurt. You promise to come home and fuck me full of you, baby?”

“Jesus Christ, yes,” he hisses, and I know he’s coming.

We stay on the line as we both catch our breath before I giggle, and he laughs too. I curl up in the bed, wondering if we can really do this again. If we can maybe get it right this time. I love him so much it is as much a part of me as the blood in my veins or the flesh on my bones.

“I meant it, Paisley,” his sexy growl sends a flicker of heat between my thighs, “I am coming home. I want your ass bare, pussy waiting for my cock to fill it. Don’t make me ask twice. Even though I think my baby likes a little punishment, don’t you?” he gruffs and I hear him moving around, making me laugh because he means it. He is coming home to me in the middle of the day again. I shudder just thinking of getting him home just to take care of me the way I need him to. He spoils me.

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