On Dublin Street(101)

With the growl I had missed, Braden shucked his jeans down a little, and then wrapped his hand around mine so we both guided him between my legs. At the slightest brush of him against me I grew even wetter. I let go, my hands moving around to grasp his ass as he slid slowly into me. I squeezed his backside, urging him to go faster.


Which he did with pleasure.


“Harder,” I moaned. “Harder, Braden. Harder.”


Asking for it hard never failed to spur Braden on. He kissed me and then slammed home. Pleasure coiled tight in me his cock kissed me so deep, I threw my head back to cry out, my cries getting louder as he pounded delicious strokes into me. What he was doing to my insides, the sight of him straining above me, the sounds of our excited pants and groans and the wet, primal noise of sex, all of it surged me towards satisfaction and fast. I blew apart, screaming his name as I came. I came so hard, my sex pulsing around Braden, that I milked him into his own orgasm, his body tensing as it shot through him, his hips continuing to jerk him in and out, prolonging both our releases.


Best. Sex. Ever.


Braden groaned and collapsed against me. I stroked my hands against his ass soothingly before gliding them up his back to hold him close.


He turned his head against my neck and pressed a familiar kiss there.


“You still mad at me?” he murmured.


I sighed. “I was going home to do what I should have done eight years ago. I was going home to say goodbye to my family.”


Braden grew still and then he pulled back to gaze down into my face, his eyes full of remorse. “God, I’m so sorry, babe. About the ticket.”


I bit my lip. “I can reprint it. And… I was thinking about staying in Virginia permanently after Ellie is back on her feet.”


The remorse fled quickly. “Over my dead body.”


“Yeah, I thought you’d say that.”


He frowned. “I’m still inside you.”


“I can feel that.” I smiled, bemused.


“Well at least let me get out of you before you tell me you’re attempting to leave me.”


I leaned up and kissed his lips. “I don’t know if that’s what I’m doing yet.”


Used to everything not being straightforward with me, Braden exhaled slowly and withdrew from me. He tucked himself back into his jeans and he sat up, holding out his hand. Deciding to trust him, I let him pull me up to my feet, and followed him up the stairs to his room. He nodded at the bed. “Get in.”


Since I was naked and sated and really in no mood to argue, I scrambled across his bed to my side of it and got in. I watched with pleasure as Braden stripped down to nothing and got in beside me. I was immediately settled into his side, my head on his warm chest. “So what are you doing?”


That was some question. And where to begin?


“I had a really good family, Braden,” I told him softly, pain I’d been hiding for too long threaded in every word. Braden heard it and his hold on me tightened. “My mom was an orphan. She grew up in foster care here, and then moved to the States on a work visa. She was working at the college campus library when she met my dad. They fell in love, they got married, and for a while they lived happily ever after. My parents weren’t like my friends’ parents. I was fourteen and they were still sneaking around, making out when they didn’t think I could see them. They were crazy about each other.” I felt my throat close up but tried to hold it together. “They were crazy about me and Beth. My mom was overprotective and a little overbearing because she didn’t want us to ever feel as alone as she had felt growing up.” I smiled. “I thought she was cooler than all the other moms because, well, she had a cool accent, and she was kind of blunt, but in a really funny way that shocked some of the preppy housewives that lived in our town.”


“Sounds like someone I know,” Braden murmured, amusement in his voice.


I grinned at the thought that I might be a little like my mom. “Yeah? Well, she was awesome. And my dad was just as great. He was the dad who checked in with you every day to see what was up. Even as I got older and became this entirely new creature called a teenage girl, he was still always there.” I felt a tear fall now. “We were happy,” I whispered, just managing to get the words out.


I felt Braden kiss my hair, his grip on my arm so tight it almost hurt. “Babe, I’m so sorry.”


“Shit happens right?” I swiped quickly at the tears. “One day I was sitting in class and the police came to tell me that my dad had swerved into a truck to avoid a motorcyclist who’d come off his bike. Gone. Mom. Dad. Beth. I lost my parents and I lost a little girl I hadn’t really had a chance to get to know. Though I knew enough to know that I adored her. I knew she would cry if she couldn’t see her favorite teddy bear—this ratty old brown bear with a blue ribbon around his neck that used to mine and still smelled like me. His name was Ted. Original, I know. I knew that she had a sophisticated taste in music because all you had to do to stop her from crying was play Mmmbop by Hanson.” I laughed sadly at the memory. “I knew that when I was having a bad day, all I had to do was pick her up, hold her close, smell her skin, feeling her tiny warmth against me and know that everything was okay…