I really wanted to see him again.
He was nice, and though he was probably local, I was sure I could work something out to see him again. I was supposed to be going back to school tomorrow, but my university was only like an hour away. A long distance thing could work if…
Totally ahead of myself, I deflated. Especially when something hardened Brett’s features.
His eyebrows drew in, his stare calculated, cold. It was the opposite of how I’d seen him before.
“Brett?”
He said nothing, the swallow hard in his throat. Turning, he schooled whatever that was before. He picked up my hand, lacing my fingers. “A virgin… all right.”
“All right?”
He nodded, but this time, he smiled. “I can be about that. No big deal.”
“Really?”
“Really.” No hesitation with his chuckle, that wonderful laughter that forced heat instantly into my belly. He’d gotten me drunk off that sound without a lick of alcohol last night. There’d been a reason I’d taken this guy home with me. He’d been so nice, easygoing.
He’d been gentle.
Perfect.
He was perfect now, wrapping a thick arm around me. He tugged at my chin. “Really, it’s not a thing. I’m okay with it.”
He was okay with it.
Tipping my chin, he kissed me, and suddenly, my vision was filled with wedding bells and “Here Comes the Bride.”
A growl and he had our fingers laced, dragging them up and above my head. He pressed his whole big body on me, and when I ground my hips into him, he blessed me with that deep laughter again.
“You sure you were a virgin, gorgeous?” he asked, biting my lips. I believed I’d been, but with him all hot and hard on top of me I wasn’t sure.
Turning the tides, I shifted, forcing him on his back. He let me be myself with him, be… sexy. He let me take control and when he gathered my hair, I bit back a moan.
“Hon! We’re home. Where are you?”
Holy fucking shit!
I fell off the bed, like literally rolled off the bed with a thud.
Brett scrambled to the side, eyes wide. “Shit. You okay?”
“Cleo?”
Mom’s voice traveled from somewhere in the house again. Meanwhile, I was on the floor flopping around on my purple shag rug. My childhood bedroom was literally like My Little Pony threw up in it, a fascination I had from my pony figurines on my desk to the artist renderings I bought from the internet and put on my walls.
It was a phase, okay?
“Honey?” My adoptive father, Rick, called from within the house as well. “Darling? Is everything all right? We heard something. Should we come up?”
Shit, he’s home too!
Neither one was supposed to be, obviously, since I brought a boy into their house and screwed him.
Oh my Goddd.
“Everything’s fine!” I called, hoping to God they didn’t come up. Scrambling, I got my naked butt off the floor, and I shot to the door. I locked it. “Everything’s good. I swear!”