© 2015, Sibylla Matilde

Siby@SibyllaMatilde.com

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from Sibylla Matilde.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. With the exception of the original material written by the author, all songs, song titles, and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.

To Chewie, my weird little chiweenie. Even though he can’t read. I’m pretty sure his favorite thing in the world is to curl up with me on the couch. That makes me feel pretty damn special.

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Epilogue

Songs that inspired Post Breakup Sex

Acknowledgements

About Sibylla

Stalk Siby

She looked so… wistful.

She sat there in the park watching the wedding go on before her, and there were tears in her eyes. But not the happy tears people generally shed at weddings. Not the oh-my-God-how-beautiful tears.

Lonely tears that she held back, feigning serenity.

Beside her sat a guy that I assumed was her boyfriend. Not that he was loving or comforting in the slightest. He looked like a total dick, actually. But he leaned down to murmur something to her from time to time, and she’d nod and straighten. She’d slip her mask of composure back on.

It wasn’t really that she was beautiful. But, my God, she was. Long blonde hair that was swept up off her neck, falling in wispy tendrils to her bare shoulders. She wore a deep red dress that sparkled in the faint lights surrounding the small gathering, and her ivory skin looked smooth and… perfect.

I tried not to watch her. I was there with my buddy Cody waiting for the ceremony to end and the reception to begin. His older brother was part of the band, though, so we had a bit of time to kill. And I kept finding myself drawn to her. Wondering who she was. What she was like. Why she looked so withdrawn.

It was like I was waiting for something to peek through.

Then Cody pulled a joint out of his pocket, and we slipped back behind the pavilion to pass the time.

The sun had set just as they bride and groom took their vows, and the music started up. Just as the reception began kicking into high gear, a glimmer caught my eye off in the distance. Through the shadows of the park, I saw the sparkles of that red dress.

My first thought was that she was sneaking away with her boyfriend. Weddings tended to be an incredible turn-on for women. I’d benefited from their intense need to mate a time or two in the past. But I was strangely discomforted by the thought of her seeking out a romantic interlude.

Then, I realized she was all alone. Carrying her shoes in her hand, her bare feet peeked out from her long, flowing skirt as she padded quietly across the grass towards the fountain.

She stopped for a moment, reading the sign at the base, and, all at once, she got the most fascinating look on her face. She bit her lip and curled her mouth into a mischievous smile, then dropped her shoes to the ground, hiked up her skirt to bare some pretty fucking amazing thighs, and stepped into the fountain.

I was by no means a romantic. I was all about free and easy pleasure and had never gotten all mushy about a chick before.

So maybe it was the weed. Maybe getting high had triggered some deep, thought-provoking section of my brain. Some part that made me think of all kinds of flowery shit.

Like the way her dress sparkled in the dark, like stars in the sky.

Or the way her face lit up when she smiled and splashed in the shallow pool.

And right then, I wanted to know her. I wanted to find out what made her tick. How she sounded first thing in the morning with her voice husky from sleep. I wanted to see if her lips felt as amazingly soft as they looked. If her hair was half as silky smooth as it appeared. How her naked skin would shine with perspiration in the heat of passion.

An almost childlike giggle escaped her, and she glanced back towards the party for a moment, watching carefully. She looked back down at her feet, swirling one around for a moment more, and let out a deep sigh.

Stepping out of the shallow fountain, the mystery girl picked up her shoes. With one more longing glance at her momentary escape, she stepped back through the darkness to the reception.

I had no idea who she was.

But I wanted her.

When I found out who she was, I wished she was anyone else. The laws of social order would never allow a girl like her to be with a guy like me.

So I tried to forget her. Any way I could.

Three licentious years later…

I think it was the shirt that sealed the deal that night. It seemed to get me laid more often than not, really. Big white block letters that said “Orgasm Donor” across the black fabric that, to be quite honest, was maybe a size too small. Fortunately, I was six feet three inches and had the muscular bulk to carry it off.

I leaned against the counter that separated the open kitchen from the great room. The house was pretty massive, but when you had four guys and a shit ton of equipment to keep handy, you needed a pretty big place. Not very clean, though, which you’d expect considering the band members that lived here. More of a party spot, a place to sleep off the raucous lifestyle. And it was my home away from home when the confines of my own mediocre apartment started feeling a little cramped.

It had been a long week at the garage, difficulty in finding parts, people not wanting to pay their bills, all kinds of shit. My grampa had left me the business that had supported his family for fifty years. Back when I was a teenager, I’d spent enough time with him to know the headache that it entailed, but this week had just really sucked. Maybe he should have left it to my sister. She was the steady one, the responsible one. I was, well… not.

I was only twenty-four, for fuck’s sake.

So I scanned the room to see who might be willing to slip away and entertain me for the evening. I needed to lose myself. I was pissy and tired, which meant I needed to fight or fuck, and fucking would hurt less in the morning.

Laura was eyeing me from across the room. She wasn’t too bad the first time, but I was a little concerned that she might start getting clingy if I gave her much encouragement. I couldn’t deal with clingy. It was hard to be fun when faced with clingy, and I kinda liked being fun. I didn’t want to be an asshole, but sometimes asshole was the only language clingy could understand.

Looking on through the crowd, it occurred to me that Pauline looked pretty hot tonight. And, bonus, she was a bit more laid back about things. I’d actually done her a couple times, and she was far from clingy, mostly because she sort of seemed to like variety. She’d also done Denny, Justin, Cody, and Drew.

And Maggie.

One night, she did Drew and Maggie… together. From what Drew told me, that was kinda how he and Maggie hooked up in the first place. I took a swig of my beer wondering if I was up for her tonight. She was quite adventurous. But then Justin sidled up beside her and proceeded to start sucking at her neck.

I’d shared with Justin once before. Sadly, I barely remembered the girl, which sort of made me feel shitty, but I had been really drunk. I’d just finished off just over half of a bottle of Jack. And it had been dark. The whole experience was a bit of a haze. Not one I was sure I wanted to repeat.

So, he could have Pauline all to himself tonight. This week had been exhausting, and then I’d helped the guys set up at the Copperline. Their gig had been loud and rowdy as usual, leaving no doubt that they were the Bangin’ Mofos. By the time we had all their instruments packed away, I’d been going strong for about twenty hours. So I was looking for someone easy. I really didn’t want to have to work too hard to get off.

Ruth… she was a possibility. She was almost a wallflower at parties. Sweet as honey in public, but swore like a sailor in the sack. It was always the quiet ones. But she could suck a golf ball through a garden hose and didn’t mind doing a majority of the work. Unfortunately, it appeared she’d brought some dude from the bar tonight, meaning my chances were slim to none.

For tonight anyway. Maybe next time.

I scoped out the room a bit more. As big as the place was, it was damn near wall-to-wall, and people were still showing up. I saw Lily walk in and considered her for a second. I’d never had her. Cody had, and he seemed to think she was worth another round sometime. She turned back to the door, still open behind her, and motioned for someone to follow her.

And then, she walked in.

Sophie fucking Buchanan.

What in the actual fuck was she doing here?

For a second, I thought I was seeing things. Not only was she here, at a band party, but that preppie dickhead boyfriend wasn’t with her.

She looked different. Way different. My first thought was that Lily had likely given her a slutty makeover. Thick black eyeliner, ruby red lips, her blonde hair wild and full and falling in luscious waves around her bare shoulders with bright streaks of pink and purple and blue. Her little strappy shirt displayed the top curves of her breasts and ended just above an incredibly short, tight skirt. A skirt that ended a few good inches above some killer thigh-high boots.

Seriously, pure beat off material. Hotter than a fuckin’ playboy cover. I tucked the image away in my mind for the next rare occasion that I had to take care of my own shit.

She stood with Lily, looking around the room, perusing the crowd. Lily pointed out a person here and a person there, and Sophie pondered them for a second before Lily pointed out another. Slowly, they eyed their way across the great room, and then Lily pointed at me.

Boldly holding Sophie’s gaze as she locked onto mine, I did the whole smolder thing that generally made panties drop all over town. Her head tilted a bit to the side and, even from a distance, I could see a flush color her cheeks. I could see her breath catch.

She glanced down at my shirt, and for just a moment, her eyes showed a faint hint of shock. She quickly schooled her features, though, masking her expression as Lily murmured something into her ear. Sophie looked over at her pensively, then glanced back in my direction. Lily told her something else which made Sophie shake her head ever so slightly. Then she took a deep breath, grazed her tongue across her lips, and left Lily to weave her way through the crowd.

Towards me.

And I felt a huge surge of blood rush right to my junk.

The closer she got, the harder I got. I’d only ever seen her from a distance, and she was way hotter than I’d thought, even under the thick make-up. I could imagine her plump lips wrapped around my cock. My mouth watered to taste the smooth, buttery skin of those spectacular tits. As she stepped up to me, I realized that her eyes were almost a deep blue-green, not the baby-blue I’d imagined, and I wondered how they’d look all heavy with lust as she rode me to exhaustion. The tousled blonde of her hair framed her heart-shaped face, the multicolored streaks grazing the opalescent bare skin of her shoulders.

She stepped up to me and glanced pointedly back down at my shirt. I prepared myself for a scathing comment. Every time I’d seen her before, she simply oozed class. Money. Style. High society, and, once again, I could only wonder what the fuck she was doing here.

I coolly took a sip of my beer, tipping the bottle back between my thumb and forefinger, and waited for her to talk. Lowering the bottle, I offered it to her. A dare. A test. She hesitated just a second before taking it and, not taking her eyes off mine, sucked it back.

Oh…

The way her lips curved around the bottle had my already dirty thoughts turning truly sordid.

Those lips would feel awesome wrapped around my dick.

With the first taste, she hardly contained the clear indication that she rarely, if ever, drank beer. The tip of her tongue slipped out to catch a stray drop as she tilted the neck of the bottle to touch the letters on my shirt.

“Can you deliver on that promise?” she asked.

Fuck yeah.

Even in her slutty clothes, she oozed prim and proper. Little rich girl. Shouldn’t even fucking be here.

I was tattoos, piercings, and leather. I was a mechanic. Blue collar all the way. Raised by a single mom, then by my grampa and big sister when cancer took her away from us. I was toeing the line to even hit middle class. Society chicks like Sophie Buchanan didn’t just come up and openly proposition guys like me. It took a minute for my brain to catch on that propositioning me was exactly what she was doing.

I narrowed my eyes at her. Slowly, my gaze traveled down her skimpy little outfit, taking note of her perfect rack, her curvy little waist, and her super short skirt. She reacted as if it was my fingertips stroking her body instead of my eyes. Her breath caught in her throat, and a faint, but visible, tremble coursed through her. I took my time, covering my own shock with a lazy perusal, down to the tips of those thigh-high boots, then slowly back up to meet her heated gaze.

I stood straighter, stepping closer and taking the now empty bottle from her hand. Sophie didn’t step back, but held her ground, and when I spoke, I was barely an inch away from her.

“Oh yeah,” I replied in a low, firm rasp. “Guaranteed to make you scream.”

I could see the words hit home. The flush that warmed her skin. The hot flash in her eyes.

I really was pretty fucking smooth.

She looked right at me, deep into my eyes, studying me closely, all the while shaking like a leaf. Then her tongue darted out again to wet her lips and she cocked her head to the side, motioning towards the hallway to the back of the house.

“Let’s go,” she said quietly.

I caught the tremor in her voice. Something that said she was terrified out of those fucking sexy-as-hell boots. But she also looked determined.

I’d wanted her from the first time I saw her. But when I found out who she was, I figured I’d never get within forty feet of her. Different circles and all that shit. I had no idea why she was here, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to turn her down, to let some other dickweed here have her. She’d picked me. It was fate. It was time. Every good deed I had ever done in my entire life was paying off.

She started to turn, reaching back nervously for my hand. That first touch sent a static shock through me. That might sound corny, and chances are it was just the dry air, but there was seriously a snap of electricity when she touched me for the first time.

Weird. But strangely poetic.

Her small grip, ever so slightly shaky, was warm and smooth. I wanted to feel that touch on my dick. The thought damn near had me ripping right through my fucking jeans.

I let her lead me from the crowded great room. She pulled me down the hall, and I had no clue if she knew where she was going. She’d never been here, as far as I could recall. I knew from past visits, past parties, that the band kept a lot of their equipment set up back here, sometimes using the space to practice or write music or just to fuck around with a melody.

But there was also a huge, overstuffed L-shaped couch. Each side was easily big enough for someone my height to comfortably sprawl out on. I’d made out and passed out on it enough times to be pretty certain of this.

She opened the door, just a crack at first, peeking inside to see a set of drums, a guitar, and a table covered with paper and pens and guitar picks. There was a bluish tint to the room from an old Icehouse beer sign that Cody had snagged from the Copperline Bar one night.

“Dang, it’s instruments, not a bedroom,” she murmured under her breath.

“There’s a couch,” I whispered into her ear, and felt a tremor rip through her. Her face turned towards me just slightly, just enough to give me a glimpse of her profile, but then she gave a short nod and pushed the door open the rest of the way.

Piled at one end of the deep green couch were a few pillows, soft, fluffy, and plaid. And a heavy, plushy blanket was tossed over the back.

She took a couple steps into the room. Her breath seemed to be coming quicker now, sharp intakes that resulted in shivers down her body. She stood there with her back to me, almost as though she was giving herself a little mental pep talk.

“You okay, baby?” I asked, and she turned slowly.

Her tongue darted out to touch her lips again and her fingers twisted together with an obvious apprehension. I wanted desperately in that moment to step closer. To touch her and taste her. She seemed ready to bolt, but nodded, then closed those amazing eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, she had regained some of her cool. And her voice was steady as she spoke.

“Close the door.”

I lifted my chin a little, studying her closely, and then did as she said.

“Is there a lock?” she whispered.

I nodded. As I secured the door, the click echoed through the room, rising above the sound of the band’s party.

“Well?” she said softly, “let’s do this.”

I raised my pierced eyebrow sardonically. “Are you sure you want to?”

Her brow furrowed, and her voice sounded faintly panicked. “You don’t want to?”

“Oh yeah,” I nodded with a lascivious grin. I dropped my gaze again to travel over that hot little body, and she squirmed under the intensity. Yeah, I fucking wanted to do this. She had no idea how long I’d wanted this, but she looked about ready to jump right out of her skin. Deliciously on edge, and I watched her like she was my prey. Reading every quivering shiver that danced across her skin. “Yeah,” I said again, "I'm game if you are.”

“Good,” she said, “because I want to.”

I took a step towards her, and another. Slowly, like I was hunting a frightened rabbit. Her eyes were lit with a half-terrified, half-excited gleam. Her luscious chest rose and fell, and her stance wobbled just a little. The whole time I advanced, I told myself to be calm. Careful. Repeating it like a mantra over and over in my head.

Don’t. Fucking. Scare. Her. Off.

But, in the end, just as I got within an arm’s length of her, she came to me. Her fingers grasped into the front of my shirt as she rose on her tiptoes, one arm sliding up around my neck. And she kissed me.

Desperately and with a long, deep moan that echoed down my throat and through my brain. Her lips tasted fucking amazing, and the bare skin of her shoulders felt every bit as satiny smooth as I'd imagined. My dick began to throb, bordering on pain, as her hands slid down my chest, stopping at the waistband of my jeans and then sliding back up underneath my t-shirt. Her fingertips on my bare skin roused me like nothing I’d ever felt before, and I pulled her tightly to me, grinding my cock hard against her, taking back control. I heard her gasp as I tilted my head to deepen our kiss, and then I groaned roughly as her tongue brushed against mine.

Fuck, I could have kissed her forever. Little things a body required like air and food were inconsequential when compared with the rampant need building inside me. Her soft little body rubbed up against mine, and I lifted my head to look down at her. The tremulous expression she had held before had shifted. Her eyelids were low over darkened, lust-filled eyes, her lips bruised with the force of our kiss. Her fair cheeks were flushed, and her body swayed against me as her lips lifted again to meet mine.

I guided her backwards across the room towards the couch, lifting my arms to allow her to push the t-shirt up over my head. Her fingertips trembled as she reached to touch the thick muscles of my chest and the display of tattoos across my arms and torso. Her breathing came heavy and fast, catching a tousled lock of her hair and brushing it against my bare skin.

The raging need that coursed through my body nearly broke when she caught her lower lip in her teeth, looked up at me, then brought her head forward to kiss my chest. To taste my flesh and trace a thick line of ink with the tip of her tongue as her nails grazed against my nipple ring, catching and tugging on it ever so slightly.

I felt a low ragged moan leave my throat at the timid swipe of her tongue, and it returned as her fingertips traced along my ribs, digging into my skin as my fingers wound themselves tightly into her thick, soft curls.

Yeah, she had no idea. Everyone in the world has that perfect someone locked in their mind. That image of perfection and pure sex appeal. I didn’t have to rub one out very often. There was generally someone around to help me out with that, but when I did, Sophie was the image I held in my mind. I had fantasized about this. Ached for this. For her. For so long.

And she was here, she was touching me. She was fucking licking me. Fuck me. I hadn’t been this turned on since I had been a fourteen-year-old virgin getting my dick stroked for the very first time.

I swept one hand down over her curvy little ass, down her legs until I could lift her against me. She wasn’t short, nor was she tall, but she was slender and surprisingly light. Of course, my body was raging, and I could have picked up a car like fucking Superman. I easily lifted her into my arms and knelt to settle her on the couch.

As she lay there before me, her body stretched out, I traced the ivory skin of her breast at the edge of her low-cut shirt. I bent over her, looking her square in the eye again.

“You’re sure about this, baby,” I whispered, not so much a question, but giving her one last out. I'd had one-night stands before, but I'd have bet my left nut that this was uncharted territory for her. I was also pretty sure that either my head or my balls would explode if she said no, but even I wasn’t such a dick that I didn’t want her to be sure. “You don’t even know my name.”

She licked her lips, and breathed out quietly. “Lily said your name is Brannon.”

“Yeah.”

“Hi, Brannon,” she whispered with her eyes closed, lifting up onto her elbows to seek my lips again. “I’m Sophie.”

“I know who you are,” I murmured unwittingly before my mouth crashed back down on hers.

She didn’t seem to notice my slip as she pulled at me, urging me on top of her. Her lips sent me into a frenzy, grasping me close, curving her body hard up against mine, melting into me. I swallowed her small gasp when my hand slid down her waist, down her hips to find the bare skin of her thigh, and then the blood surged through my veins when she wrapped her calf around my leg and nudged her hips up against me.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” I dazedly whispered, "I can’t wait to get inside that hot little body of yours.” I was painfully hard, and her shocked whimper of response made my body pulse and throb that much more.

My lips nipped and tasted the smooth skin of her neck, and her back arched as her head fell back, encouraging me towards the swell of her breast. Her hips ground up against mine, and she moaned as I pressed my hard, aching cock to the apex of her thighs. With her legs spread wide to cradle my body between them, her tight skirt had ridden up, and I realized that she wore nothing underneath. No panties, not even a flossy G-string. Nothing.

I leaned down to taste the swell of her breast, just along the edge of her top, and swept one thick finger through the crease between her thighs. She was waxed to a fine strip of hair, and the bare skin around her pussy was heated and smooth, inviting. Made my fucking mouth water. My finger dipped deep inside to find her so very warm and so very wet. For me.

“Oh yes,” she breathed as I pushed inside her again, knuckle deep, and curled my finger to stroke her inner walls.

Still tasting the tender skin around her neckline, I withdrew my hand and heard her whimper.

“Oh God, please… do that again.” A breathless gasp. An anxious plea.

A whole new level of pounding started raging in my dick.

I pressed a second finger in her with the first, and she cried out, the desperate sound echoing through the room. Every touch inside her made me that much stiffer, made me want her that much more. Every sound that left her lips bounced around the room and vibrated through my body until I felt like I was going to burst.

My mouth nipped at the curve of her breast, just above the neckline of her shirt, and she responded by pulling the tight fabric down to bare her flesh to me. Sweet, tender nipples that tasted like heaven, that puckered against my mouth as I scraped them with my teeth.

I felt the fiery scrape of her nails digging into my shoulders, and her body bucked against me. I lifted my head from her breast and kissed her again, firmly on the mouth, sweeping my tongue deep inside her and swallowing her moan.

I could feel her jerking at the fly of my jeans, and my hand stayed hers for a minute. “I'm dying to fuck you, baby,” I whispered in her ear, nipping at the delicate little lobe. “How bad do you want me?”

“Please,” she gasped. “Oh, please.”

OK, so maybe I was a complete fuckhead. There was no reason in hell this should be happening. She couldn’t have been in her right mind to even be contemplating this, and I was a real fucker for cashing in. But, for cryin’ out loud, I could smell the heady scent of her arousal. I had her begging for my cock. As much as I figured it would come back to haunt me, the taste of her kiss on my tongue, the silky feel of her slick little pussy, and the sheer desperation in her voice were simply too alluring for me to pull away.

So I lifted my hips, giving her access to undo my jeans, as I reached in my back pocket. A second later, I was shuddering with a sudden debilitating tremor as her small hand slipped in my boxer briefs and closed around my dick. Her slender, warm fingers squeezed a little, starting at the base and sliding up the length and for a second I forgot everything. All I could think was that she had her hand on my dick.

Sophie.

Sophie Buchanan had her hot little hand on my fucking dick.

I could have died right there and been the happiest motherfucker on the planet.

She kept moving, stroking, pulling at me and pressing her fingers in all these amazing little ways that about had me blowing it all.

“Condom,” I murmured. “Fuck, baby, need a condom.” I finally managed to grasp my wallet and pulled it open to grab a rubber. With all the dexterity of an ox, I managed to tear the foil and sheath myself, and then her hand was back, guiding me towards her. The first touch, that first direct contact between my sex and hers, that first slide of the head of my cock breaching her tight little pussy, damn near laid me out.

All I could think for a split second was, Holy fuck.

As she took me in, her body sort of rippled with delight. It was intensely erotic, and I was thankful for the trashy neon beer light hanging on the wall so I could watch her. Her mouth formed a perfectly soft little ‘o’ as her breath caught in her throat. Her head fell back against the scattered pillows, her body arching to push herself up tightly against me, bringing me closer and deeper. Her hair fanned out around her shoulders and her eyelashes lay thick and dark against her cheeks. I lowered my lips to brush against the wild pulse beating in her throat, and pushed harder against her, holding tightly as her body quivered around me.

“Oh Jesus,” she whispered with a gasp, and she opened her eyes to look at me. Meeting her gaze, I rocked against her, driving in hard and watching the sensation play across her face. Her eyelids heavy, the deep blue-green of her eyes locked onto mine. I wanted to go slow, to savor the fine grip of her pussy around me, to live in that moment. But, Christ, she was like crack, and every movement of her body against mine made me want her more. Made me want to move faster and harder, so I did until I was slamming into her. In moments, she was sobbing against my chest. Her hands slipped against the damp sweat of my back as she clutched me to her, and I buried my face into the sweet, fragrant skin of her neck.

I had to take her there, I had to make her peak before me. So with inconceivable strength and willpower, I kept moving, pushing back the aching desire that threatened to rip through me. I forced it down, pounding into her almost brutally as my thumb reached down to press firm circles around her clit. I almost lost it when her pussy squeezed tightly around me, and I bit into the skin of her shoulder to stave off my release.

Suddenly, her entire body seized tight, then convulsed into fierce, shuddering waves. The sound started low in her throat, deep and husky, then rose to a raspy scream. I leaned down to swallow the sound, to kiss her and groan back into her. I buried myself in her one last time as the flood of my own orgasm shot right the fuck out of me.

My head was spinning. Every muscle in my body had gone completely liquid and my heart was racing. I was probably squishing Sophie, but, Christ, I couldn’t make myself move. My brain refused to pass the message on to my body.

Thankfully, Sophie didn’t seem to mind. Her face was pressed into my neck, her breath teasing my skin. Her fingers lay limply along my back, contracting randomly with a faint twitch of her fingers that echoed her tight little pussy.

She smelled so incredible, the fresh, clean scent of her hair swirling through the air to mingle with the erotic smell of uninhibited sex. Lying there with her, on top of her and still buried deep inside her, I never wanted to move again as long as I lived. I'd had some awesome sex before, but I'd never come quite like I just had fucking Sophie Buchanan.

Her leg straightened a little, her foot brushing down my calf, and I lifted up to my elbows to look down at her. For a second, her eyes stayed closed before she opened them to gaze up at me.

“Thank you,” she smiled dazedly.

So not what I expected her to say. Although it did some awesome shit for my ego. At first. And then it sort of hit me that it was kind of like she was going to continue with ‘it was fun’ or something.

“Mmmm… you're very welcome,” I murmured.

A sweet chuckle rippled through her, and she looked down at my chest for a second before she brought her eyes back up to mine. This time, they held a hint of shyness, a touch of embarrassment.

“Just so you know… this isn’t something I do a lot. Like, I’ve never done anything quite like this.”

“I kind of gathered that sex with a complete stranger isn’t really your thing.”

“It is a bit out of character for me.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond. No clue what to say. Partly because I was still balls deep and every squirming movement of her body sent a faint thrill through my body. Thankfully, she continued so I didn’t have to say a thing.

“This was kinda like, well… I’m not sure what it was, but I needed to do this.”

“Um, okay,” I said, not really understanding, but also realizing that she was getting ready to explain and disappear. I caught her face in the palm of my hand, brushing her cheek with my thumb. “You know, you don’t have to explain this to me. You may not have much experience with this sort of thing, but you are pretty fucking good at it, so I’m sure as hell not complaining.”

She laughed softly, and my breath caught at how stunning she was up close. Her face flushed, her lips swollen, her eyes sparkling up at me.

“That’s very sweet of you,” she smiled.

“Scout’s honor,” I swore.

“You have a lot of tattoos for a boy scout.”

“Well, it has been a while, but I still remember the whole honor thing.”

I shifted a little, causing Sophie to draw in a sharp breath as I slipped out of her. That one little gasp, that breathy sound, stirred something in me again. Jesus, she was like Viagra personified. I offered up a quick prayer to whatever deity might be listening that I had more condoms in my wallet.

I lifted off her and slipped off the condom, tossing it in the garbage can by a table covered with sheet music and drumsticks. Tucking myself back into my jeans, I turned to see Sophie sitting up and adjusting her clothes as well. She combed her shaky fingers through the tangles I had caused and looked up at me with a sudden overwhelming vulnerability that drew me closer. I knelt on the floor in front of her, my hands coming to rest on the smooth, warm skin of her thighs.

“You okay?” I asked as I felt a tremor course through her.

Her gaze dropped to my chest, and her fingertips lifted to touch the phoenix tat that ran across my collarbones, spreading its wings towards each shoulder. “Yeah,” she softly replied. “This is just sort of uncharted territory for me. I feel kind of awkward, like I don’t know what to do.” She swallowed hard. “Should I go?”

Her touch trailed to my shoulder, a feather-light caress that shot straight to my balls. I tipped her chin up to draw her eyes to mine.

“You could stay a bit longer. I'd actually kinda like another round,” I said with a thick, husky voice. “See what other kinds of noises I can get you to make.”

Not my best, truly. But she looked at me and saw something there, something that held her in place as I lowered my lips to hers again and softly explored the sweetness of her mouth. As I kissed her, I felt the dainty touch of her fingertips scraping through the short hair at my nape. Our languid caresses drew us closer together, and then I was sitting on the couch, pulling her body gently and firmly onto mine.

All the frantic, frenetic desire that we’d spent earlier eased into the pure, slow sensuality of languid tongues and touches. Sophie’s body followed mine as I leaned back against the couch, and my grip on her luscious, curvy hips intensified to a bruising force. Breathing heavily, she lifted her head to look at me. I noticed that one fine strap to her shirt had slipped down her shoulder, adding another element to her stunning, disheveled appearance. Her eyes smoldered hot in the dim light when I brushed my fingers along the hem of her shirt. I waited a few seconds, grazing my fingertips along the tender skin, reading her body for the telltale sign that she was hot for more.

And there it was. A gentle nudge of her hips, the pressure of her body pushing against my growing hardness. I slid my hands up her torso, drawing her shirt up with it, then up and over her head.

Sophie in that tight little silky shirt had been incredibly sexy.

But Sophie out of that tight little silky shirt took me from semi to rock hard in one-point-five seconds.

Her lacy black bra cupped the perfect curves of her breasts. The sheer fabric almost highlighted her pale pink nipples that hardened as my thumbs brushed over the dark lace, causing Sophie to draw in a sharp gasp. Her eyes drifted closed and her hands clasped over mine, silently begging me to knead and pinch and caress. So I did, leaning forward to suck and nip through the fine black lace. I slid one hand around her back, deftly releasing the hooks and easing the straps down her shoulders. My lips followed one side, slowly pushing it down her arm, then came back to draw firmly on her nipple. My hands kneaded the soft mounds, massaging and squeezing, as I teased one hardened peak, then the other. Back and forth. Coaxing the sweetest moans from her lips.

With a growling groan, I pulled her warm naked torso against me, my lips swallowing her gasp at the touch of our bare skin. She arched into me, her skirt once again rising dangerously higher as she squirmed to get even closer, and I ran my hands along the firm swells of her bottom. Up the hem of her skirt, guiding her rhythmic, writhing movements as she pressed herself hard against my dick.

The ache was back, just like I hadn’t even come, like I'd had blue balls for a month. I twisted our bodies, laying her down on the couch below me, and lifted somewhat to unfasten her skirt and pull it gently down her hips and legs, leaving her completely bare except for those awesome fuck-me boots. I retrieved my wallet from where I’d dropped it earlier on the floor by the couch and thanked my lucky stars that there were still two condoms inside.

Looking back down to Sophie, I handed her a foil packet, then reached for the fly of my jeans while she ripped it open with a flash of her perfect, white teeth. Shucking my jeans off, I lowered back down onto her, pausing while she sheathed me and guided me back into her warmth. As I slowly sank into her, she bent her knees, giving me a peripheral flash of her thigh-high boots, and it was all I could do not to go all animal and start pounding furiously away. I wanted to savor her. It seemed to go so fast the first time, so frantic and nervous, and I wanted to absorb every shiver and tremor as I fucked her long and slow. Precise, measured strokes that drew a quiet, repetitive whimper from her throat.

The small rotation of her hips shifted, and I hit a sweet spot that shook both of us. A few more strokes, and there it was again. Sophie cried out against my chest, her fingernails digging into my glutes as she beckoned me deeper.

The burn began to wear at my arms and legs. Every muscle in my body began to ache as I tamped down my impending need to blow. I had it under total control, fucking her with a smooth and steady rhythm that had her tightening around me so perfectly, when Sophie began to meet my thrusts. Hard. Fast. Awesome. She contracted around me and tipped her hips, making the tip of my dick hit her in just the right spot for both of us. And at the very first quiver of her body surging into release, I too let go and fell into oblivion.

Spent, completely and totally exhausted, Sophie slept lightly there in my arms. Her body shifted, and I heard the faint squeak of her boots rubbing together.

“Soph, baby,” I whispered. “Let’s get your boots off.”

She murmured an incoherent, sleepy sound that I decided worked as some form of assent, and I slid down her body to unzip the back of the boots and slip them from her feet.

In my own sated lethargy, I looked down at her naked body, illuminated by the neon glow. Fuck, she was a stunner. I'd thought so the second I first saw her a few years ago in the park. And to have this moment to study her now seemed surreal.

I'd done some pretty ones in my day, some girls had been simply gorgeous. But I couldn’t recall a single one ever giving me a thrill like this one did.

Finally, I couldn’t fight off sleep any longer. My eyes began to drift shut. I carefully slipped off condom number two, tossing it in the trash can that I’d had the foresight to move to down near our feet.

Then I gathered Sophie close, pulling the blanket over the top of us, and drifted off into a heavy, dreamless sleep.

When I woke up the morning after, my entire body ached from the wild, rampant sex with Sophie the night before. Just thinking about her got me rock-hard all over again, and I damn near rubbed one out as I lay there buck naked in a blanket on the Mofos’ couch. If the sore muscles hadn’t been enough proof, my state of undress was a reaffirmation that I had totally gotten laid. That tended to be the reason I woke up bare-assed from time to time. Although, there was generally a bare-assed chick right there with me.

But Sophie had gone without a trace. Except for the condom wrappers on the floor.

And the scratch marks on my back and chest.

Like a sick bastard, I studied them in the mirror, almost wishing they would scar. A permanent reminder of the night before. I felt pretty fucking off-center about it all. Unsettled and annoyed. I didn’t want to think about her, but I couldn’t seem to stop.

So, I lay there for a while in a groggy haze, fighting the urge to relive every moment. I hadn’t been hitting the hard stuff, only beer and was only on my second one at that, so I was far from hammered when she showed up. Certainly nowhere near blackout drunk. I almost wished I had been, though. It would have been so much easier to blow it off if I’d been bombed. It could have been blurry and dreamlike, as though it was something I’d conjured up in my mind.

But instead, I pictured her body in the faint neon glow. I heard her voice whispering in my ear. Everything about the experience with Sophie that night seemed crystal clear. I could remember it all in high definition… 3-D… XD type shit. Every moan. Every gasp. Every tight little squeeze of her pussy around my dick.

She was really fucking with my carefree mojo.

She couldn’t have been that good. It didn’t seem possible. Nobody could have been that good, no matter how hot. And, yeah, she was really fucking hot. Even hotter than I’d originally thought she was. But the way she’d moved underneath me, over me, around me… Damn. It was like witchcraft, some pagan spell. Like there was a full moon or all the planets had aligned for me to have that incredible circumstance, that captivating moment in time that I couldn’t quite shake off. It just didn’t seem natural.

My thoughts turned to wonder why the fuck she was there in the first place. How did she even know Lily? I couldn’t figure it out. Sophie was high society. Country clubs and money. So far up from my level on the social scale, or Lily’s. Or anyone else at the party, for that matter.

She’d obviously been careening off the tracks for some unknown reason. Maybe something with her dick boyfriend. Something had thrown her, something shocking and unpleasant, to drive her so far out of her element. Out of her safe little world.

Which made me a total dick for taking advantage of her. She’d been nervous. She’d been erratic and unsure. Upset about something. Downright terrified by what she was doing. And I had just brushed that aside, thrilled as hell that I had the opportunity to get in her pants, to scratch the itch that had plagued me for quite some time.

For the first time in all my sexually active life, I felt kinda shitty. I wondered if she was looking back with regret. She’d clearly been using me, but I’d been using her, too. I felt pretty confident that I’d served her really fucking well, especially when I thought of that scream she’d let out when I fucked her. Damn. That was smokin’ hot.

But my guess was that I was a lot more familiar with casual sex. Maybe that was it. Maybe that’s what made her seem a little different than the rest. What made her better. Her trepidation. Her nervous energy. And the way she’d trusted me to give her what she was looking for.

All I really knew was that there was some kind of weirdness to this situation that I didn’t understand. Some form of crazy attachment that I couldn’t sever. Some connection I couldn’t shut off in my mind. I couldn’t block it out. It turned shit on its head, and everything around me seemed so complicated and unpredictable.

I’d wanted her for years, and, fuck me, I was thrilled I’d had her. Yet, I was insanely irritated that it may have been the only time I'd have her. I wanted more. Like the taste of her had only whet my appetite. I wondered for a second if this was my karma for all the times I had brushed off someone who’d wanted more from me.

Since we didn’t really travel in the same social circles, I had no clue how to just casually run into her. I wasn’t exactly a card carrying member of the country club. I didn’t have dinner every Friday night at the Uptown, and I didn’t spend my hard-earned money at the spa getting massages and manicures and wax jobs on my… um… well, just thinking about hers made my mouth water for a taste of what I had only seen and felt.

And Sophie didn’t hang out at the Copperline a lot.

Like ever.

Nor did she come to another party at the guys’ place.

I was in a ridiculous funk. So I kept telling myself that I was Brannon Forrester, for fuck’s sake. I was kind of a man-ho, and I sure didn’t give a shit about some girl I’d banged.

In other words, I lied to myself. Over and over.

Knowing actions speak louder than words, I worked my ass off during the day, hung out at the Copperline in the evening, and partied with the Mofos when the bar closed. I got drunk, I got stoned, and I got laid. I slept with Laura and didn’t turn into a complete asshole when she got needy, but I also got the fuck out of there while the getting was good because it wasn’t even remotely like it had been with Sophie.

No, I told myself. Sophie wasn’t any better than Laura or Ruth or Pauline or Maggie. I had just built her up in my mind to be this unreal smokin’ hot piece of ass.

She was unobtainable, that was all.

And I almost had myself convinced. I was so close to normalcy again, so close to my carefree lifestyle.

But, out of the fucking blue, after a month of sheer fixation, there she was. Sitting right up front in the audience at the Folk Festival, sponsored in part by Buchanan Investments. I.e., her dad.

This time, it was the former Sophie. The original Sophie. Not the hot and slutty Sophie who showed up and rocked my world, but the prim and proper Sophie behind the mask. Composed and serene with a polite, emotionless smile that made her seem as though she was in a bubble, untouched by anything around her.

She sat beside her mother who carried the exact same expression, except perhaps with a more eager smile. Her mom looked good for her age, although there was a plastic air about her, like she’d had a few too many facelifts. Sophie’s dad sat sternly next to her mother, radiating aristocratic power and wealth.

The Folk Festival progressed, and I sat there backstage and tried not to be a total fucking creep. I kept trying to focus on the sound board, but my eyes kept drifting back to her. Every time I blinked, her sexy body flashed before my eyes. Her smooth, ivory skin that glowed in the neon light. I heard her gasps and moans louder in my head than the music that poured from the stage. By the end of the set, I felt like a total stalker, trying not to look at her, but aware of her every movement. Waiting for a glimpse of that fuckhot sex kitten to peek through her cloud of composure.

As the Celtic band I was helping out finished up, I said a quick goodbye and slipped out from backstage, wondering where Sophie was headed now. The last I’d seen, she’d been getting up to leave with her parents. So I stood back and watched for her through the crowd. And bristled as I saw that dickhead boyfriend of hers walking over towards her and her parents.

He shook hands with her father and gave her mother a little cheek kiss, then turned to Sophie who stiffened for a split second. An angry flash lit her eyes. Evidently, something had gone very wrong between them. I wondered if they’d fought, if that was what had driven her into my arms back at the party. Or if she told him what happened at the band’s place, and maybe they’d fought because of me. Shitty as it was, I actually kind of hoped that was the case.

Sophie’s father seemed overjoyed that the dickhead was there, as did Sophie’s mother, and she cooed up at him, laying her hand on his arm while he patted her hand gently.

It was very odd to study the dynamic that existed in this family. Sophie was clearly an adult, yet I watched as her father obviously berated her, chiding her for her behavior as though she was a snotty twelve-year-old. He nudged her towards the dickhead, then pulled at his wife’s arm and led her way, leaving Sophie there with the dick.

The dickhead tried pulling her arm as Sophie’s dad had done to her mom, but Sophie stood there shaking her head. She obviously had no desire to go with him. I took a few steps in their direction, debating whether I should go all white knight and clock him between the eyes. I tried to be patient, to let her work it out, knowing I shouldn’t just go charging in, regardless of how badly I wanted to lay that bastard out.

But I hit my limit when he twisted her arm. Sophie pushed back vehemently, and he jerked her closer. My protective instincts took over as I shoved my through the crowd.

“Richard,” Sophie was pleading, “stop, you’re hurting me.”

“Just do what I say,” the dick snarled back, “and I won’t have to.”

“Let her go,” I growled.

Startled by my sudden appearance, Richard turned to me, but didn’t release her arm. “Who the hell are you?” he asked with a contemptuous glare.

Sophie gaped. Her face showed a myriad of expressions. Recognition. Surprise. Embarrassment. Heat.

“Oh my God,” she gasped. “Brannon…”

My name on her lips was pure and erotic. Sexy and breathless.

Fuck, yeah. She had remembered my name. They usually did, but, oddly, I'd been a bit unnerved that she might not.

“Brannon?!” the dick scowled, and jerked her arm again, yanking her close. “Who the fuck is Brannon, Sophie? You know him?”

I instantly bristled and closed in, grabbing him by the lapel of his little rich man sports coat. I had about four inches and probably a good fifty pounds of muscle on the guy. I felt like I could snap him like a twig.

“Let. Her. Go,” I repeated.

Like a complete pansy-ass, the dick instantly released her arm, and Sophie stepped quickly back, rubbing the bruised flesh as she drew in a couple large, shaky breaths.

“What are you doing, Brannon?” she gasped, her eyes still wide with shock.

“This fucker seemed like he was bothering you,” I replied, leveling my menacing gaze on the dick. “I’m here to stop him.”

A bead of sweat trickled down his temple.

Pussy.

“So leave her the fuck alone,” I snarled at him.

“Y-y-you have no idea who you’re t-talking to,” he stuttered back.

“I don’t give two shits who I’m talking to,” I shot back. “Leave. Her. The fuck. Alone.”

“Sophie,” he snapped anxiously, peering around me to see her, “tell him to let me go.”

I glanced over my shoulder to see that Sophie seemed to be having a little difficulty gathering her wits. Her blue-green eyes flashed wildly back and forth between the two of us. Her mouth moved, but she appeared too shocked to speak.

“What do you want me to do?” I asked, raising my pierced eyebrow. “Do you want me to let him go?”

“Um…” she finally forced out, “well, you probably should.”

“Thank you,” the dick snarled as I loosened my grip so he could step back. “Let’s go, Sophie.”

She shook her head. “I’m not going with you, Richard.”

“What?” he snarled, and I made a slight lurch towards him. He jumped back, shaking so violently that I thought he might piss himself.

What a complete and utter fuckhead this guy was.

“Fine, then,” he muttered in a shaky voice. “We’ll discuss this later.”

He backed away a few more steps as he fished his keys from his pocket. Pushing a button on the fob, a chirp sounded from a shiny new red Mustang that was parked nearby. With one last look, he whirled around and jumped inside. As if he hadn’t already gone total douche, he spun the tires on his way out of the parking lot, narrowly missing a crowd of people crossing the street before him.

I zeroed back in on Sophie who still seemed alarmed, but also obviously relieved that he was gone. She stood there gathering herself for a moment before her eyes once again met mine.

“You okay?” I asked.

“I, uh…” she stammered, “yeah.” She opened her mouth to say something else, but snapped it shut. Opening it again, she then released a deep breath and sort of smiled nervously.

Total awkward turtle moment. Hand-movement worthy.

“That was my ex,” she finally managed to say, “my ex-fiancé, actually.”

“Jesus Christ, you were going to marry that dick?” The words were out of my mouth before I even thought them through.

Sophie shrugged. “I was always expected to,” she said with a wry twist to her plump lips. “Sophie and Richard and a happily ever after. But then he slept with my best friend and gave me a pretty good reason not to marry him after all.”

“Richard, huh?”

“Yeah, Richard Banner…”

“Really? I’ve heard the name, but I always thought Richard Banner was old.”

“You’re probably thinking of his father. My ex Richard is the fourth Richard Banner.”

I nodded with a sardonic grin. “Well, it’s a fitting name. He seems like a real dick.”

Sophie finally smiled ruefully, a mischievous glint lighting her eyes. “He is.”

“Fourth in a long line of dicks. Your dad seemed to like him though, and your mom.”

Her eyes lowered as she frowned. “My father and his are business partners. From a very young age, I was encouraged to like him. Encouraged to date him. Encouraged to marry him. They don’t seem willing to let go of their dream union,” she said as she gestured in the direction her parents had gone, “even if it’s more of a business merger then any kind of relationship.”

“Do they know he cheated on you?”

“What’s a little infidelity when compared with social standing and money, right? According to my mother, it’s all part of life, which gives a little insight into my father’s behavior, I suppose.”

I had an uncomfortable sensation in my gut, twisted and nauseous as it occurred to me that she had been going for a revenge fuck. And, as much as I really didn’t want it to, that bothered me.

“So, he fucked around on you, and that’s why you fucked me?”

I probably shouldn’t have asked that, especially the way I asked it, but it was like I couldn’t stop it. It was eating away at me, weakening that charismatic confidence that made me strong.

Sophie seemed a little shocked at the abrupt reminder of just what had passed between us, but she gave me a shadowy grim smile. “Actually, I was hoping he wouldn’t want me anymore. Especially since I didn’t stick to the upper crust of society.”

“Right,” I murmured with more than a trace of sarcasm, “would be a shame to belie the laws of social order.” This discussion was proving to be kind of brutal on my ego.

Realizing what she said and how it had sounded, she hastily countered. “Just so you know, that’s their perception, not mine. They have these messed up notions about wealth and prestige. It’s not feasible that an upper class girl would go pick up some pierced and tattooed stranger at a party.”

“No, it’s okay. I am well aware that there are some pretty distinct differences between that dickhead and me.” I attempted to laugh it off. “Thank fuck.” I nodded towards the skid marks from where the dick had peeled out. “Seems as though your grand plan to cut him loose didn’t really do the trick, though, huh?”

Sophie pursed her lips and shook her head. “It doesn’t matter what really happened. It’s all just how it looks on the outside. Lifestyles of the rich and famous.”

“So, they all left you here. Do you need a ride?”

“I can, um…” She dropped her gaze and caught her lip with her teeth. “Well, maybe? But…” Her voice trailed off.

“But what?” I asked.

“Well, I don’t really want to go home yet. And, while I don’t want you to think I’m trying to… because we, well, you know what we did. But,” she asked hesitantly, “did you have any plans?”

I slid a lazy grin across my face as I felt the confidence flow again through my veins. She was totally into me. I could see it. The sweet pink flush to her cheeks and the way she tried to sound all casual, like it was nothing. But her voice was hesitant and shaky. Her eyes darkened just a touch when they met mine, and she cocked her head coquettishly.

“Well,” I grinned, "the Mofos are playing at the Copperline tonight. Would you want to go?”

“The Mofos?”

“They’re friends of mine. It was their party that we, um, yeah…” Her flushed awkwardness seemed sort of contagious and had me feeling slightly self-conscious about saying what I normally would have been happy to blurt out, complete with loads of expletives. “Anyway, they’ve got a band, the Bangin’ Mofos.”

“Seriously? Are they any good?”

“I imagine it depends on what you think is good,” I shrugged, "but I like ‘em. They’re kind of a little rock, a little alternative, with a bit of Irish flair from Denny’s roots.”

“Your friend is Irish?”

“Born and raised in Dublin. Has some distant relatives in Butte and wanted to go to Tech. Met up with Justin there, and Justin knew all us other guys. Denny loved it here, didn’t want to leave. I’m not one-hundred-percent sure he’s legal, though,” I laughed.

Sophie grinned. “Sounds kind of crazy and wonderful. I’d love to go see them.”

“Great, let’s do this,” I said with a smile, then frowned when she looked a bit startled. “Soph, you okay?”

She smiled and glanced down at her feet, flushing slightly. “Yeah,” she assured me, “just… a flashback.”

Let’s do this… Sophie had said that the night I fucked her. Her voice had been breathy and determined, and now it echoed through my head. Along with the moans and gasps, the little sounds she'd made when I was deep inside her.

Fucking hell, I wanted more of her.

“Good flashback?” I murmured, watching the rise and fall of her breasts. She nodded slowly, meeting my eyes full-on, and that thrill rippled through me. We just sorta stared at each other for a minute. “So, anyway, my car is back this way,” I finally said, motioning over my shoulder with my thumb.

Any awkwardness that had existed evaporated the minute Sophie saw my car. Fuckin’ gunmetal grey 1968 Cougar with a Cobra Jet engine, one of the only possessions I had worth anything at all.

As I unlocked the passenger side and opened the door for her, she stared at in awe.

“Wow,” she softly murmured, “this is quite a car.”

“Mmm… my baby.” I tapped the shiny deep gray roof. “It was my grampa’s. He was a mechanic, and I hung out in his shop a lot as a kid.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“He got her at an auction when I was about eight or so. Over the years, we searched high and low for parts, which, honestly, were hard as fuck to find. But it was awesome to watch her slowly roar back to life, to once again take the form of the thing of beauty she had once been.”

Sophie’s eyes grew wistful as I talked. Dreamy, yet a little sad. “Sounds like it means a lot to you,” she said softly. “Like he meant a lot to you.”

“He was a great guy,” I smiled. “When he passed away, he left me the garage, which was cool. But he left me this which was way cooler. It’s about time for her to hibernate, though.”

“Hibernate?” Sophie tilted her head in confusion.

“I don’t like to drive her in the winter, so she hibernates in the back room of my shop, safe from all the crazy fuckers who can’t drive in the snow.”

“Oh my,” she laughed. “I’ve gotta say, knowing how much it means to you—”

“She,” I corrected her.

“Fine,” Sophie said with a smile, “knowing how much she means to you makes me kind of afraid to touch her.”

“Nah, she’s stout, and today is an awesome day for a ride in some good ol’ American muscle. With fall coming, we won’t get too many more days like this. We can roll the windows down and hear my Cougar roar. “

“Cougar?”

“Yeah… She’s a Mercury Cougar. Kind of like a super fancy Mustang, except a Mustang just runs fast. A Cougar runs fast and eats Mustangs for breakfast,” I grinned wickedly.

“Richard drives a Mustang,” she laughed.

“Yeah, I noticed… pussy,” I grinned back.

Sophie got the most incredibly mischievous look in her eyes. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s see your baby in action.”

As we hit the highway, Sophie pulled her hair out of her tight ponytail and let it blow wildly in the wind. Her wide open smile was infectious, and I laughed as she stuck her arm out the open window to feel the force of the air currents. She was like a kid with a new toy.

Fucking amazing and beautiful, and the addition of her excitement and lust for life made her surreal.

The Copperline was about halfway between Ophir and Butte, but I took a long detour, hitting the interstate to let the Cougar run wide open. We made a wide arc to the next turnoff about thirty miles away before heading down the two-lane road back to the bar.

An old stage stop from the gold-mining days, it was off the beaten path, which made it an awesome place to hang. Bands always played the loudest. The fights were always the craziest. The girls were always the easiest.

Shit, I thought momentarily. Maybe bringing Sophie here wasn’t the best idea. I really hoped there wasn’t anyone I’d slept with. At the very least I hoped there were none I’d slept with recently.

But, it was kind of too late to worry about that now. Besides, in all reality, she already knew I was a total manwhore. That’s why Lily had pointed me out the night of the party.

I pulled up in the back of the bar next to Denny’s pickup and away from most of the other vehicles in the lot. I was a regular here, and being tight with the band had earned me a few perks, like a relatively safe place to park where nobody would fuck with my car. As I climbed out, I noticed Sophie watching a few scantily clad girls giggling across the parking lot, all cleavage and bare thighs.

I did mention the girls here were easy, right?

Sophie looked down at her cardigan ruefully for a minute and climbed out of the passenger seat with a troubled expression on her face. “I’m dressed like I should be going to church,” she frowned, looking over at me.

I laughed. “Well, your hair is looking sort of wild. Pretty fuckhot, actually.” I could see a slight flush color her cheeks.

“Yeah, but my clothes…”

She took a deep breath and fixed her gaze at me. Then, her expression shifted and totally took me back in time. It was the same look she’d gotten right before she crossed the room to me that night of the party.

Defiant. Resolute. Audacious.

Then she flipped her sweater up over her head to reveal a thin, super sexy red little shirt thing. It was sleeveless with thin straps and delicate lace that edged a mouthwatering neckline, revealing just a hint of cleavage. It was made from some kind of shimmery fabric that highlighted the slender curve of her waist and ended just above the low rise of her slim-fitting skirt. The skirt hugged her curves in just the right spots to make the swell of her ass just beg to be groped. She reached down and grasped each end of the short slit that went just above one knee and tugged, ripping the seam and making the slit go about halfway up her thigh.

I could literally feel the blood leave my face. And flood straight to my dick. Suddenly, all I could remember was the silky feel of her legs. The way her skin had tasted that night. The soft, carnal sighs and moans that had echoed in my ears. The way she felt in my arms. On top of me and all around me. The way it felt to lose myself in her soft curves.

Awe, fuck. Down, boy.

“There, that’s better,” she said, pulling me out of my consuming memories.

“Fuck, yeah,” I murmured with an animalistic groan. That was all I was capable of for a second, and she grinned and turned towards the entrance.

“Shall we?” she asked.

Fuck yeah, we shall.

“Sophie!” Lily cried as I led Sophie through the crowd. “Oh my gosh, girl! Good to see you!”

Lily was apparently about four sheets to the wind, based on the excited shouting. She scampered over from the bar to give Sophie a quick hug. Then she glanced up at me, and gave a wide-eyed look back to the slightly overwhelmed blonde beauty beside me. “You’re here with Brannon? Ooh…”

Sophie laughed nervously. “Yeah, um… we’re just… it’s not… um…”

“We just ran into each other,” I said, coming to her rescue by brushing off Lily’s surprise. “I offered to give her a ride out here to see the guys play.”

Sophie shot me a somewhat unreadable smile. Seemingly grateful, maybe a little longing as she dropped her gaze a bit, then looked back at Lily who was still talking.

“Well, Brannon,” she slurred, confirming my earlier suspicions as to her state of intoxication, “I’ve never ever seen you bring a girl to the Copperline before. I’ve seen you leave with plenty—”

“Okay, Lily, that’s good—” I tried to interrupt. Unsuccessfully, I might add.

“But I’ve never ever, ever seen you come in with one.” Lily looked back at Sophie with incredulous awe. “Who knew when you came into my shop that day that it would result in such an amazing accomplishment.”

Sophie laughed. “Accomplishment?” she asked.

“Well, yeah,” Lily replied with a wide smile. “Bringing a randy stud like Brannon to heel.”

“Way to take my balls away, Lily,” I said as I finally stepped between the two girls to physically end this appalling conversation. “Excuse us, we need to get a drink.” Lily just smiled even wider as I began to guide Sophie away towards the bar, but thankfully didn’t say anything else. I glared at her with every ounce of ominous warning I could conjure up on my face, but she only laughed.

“Well, have fun, kids,” she joked.

It wasn’t until we’d stepped a few feet away that I realized I’d placed my hands on Sophie’s hips to guide her towards the bar. I could smell the sweet, fresh scent of her hair in my nostrils, rising above the smell of debauchery that typically filled this rowdy establishment. I fought the sensation to bury my face in the soft, tousled waves, to press a kiss against her delicious neck. To taste her skin and get her to make one of those dick-hardening little moans.

The crowd was tightly packed close to the bar, and I could feel my body responding to her ass pressed against my dick. No doubt Sophie could feel it too when my arm slipped around her waist to keep her from running into a boozer stumbling across our path. Her own small hand closed over mine, holding it low on her stomach until we had reached the bar. My voice sounded thick as I murmured into her ear to see what she wanted.

“Um,” she hesitated, looking back up into my face. I was so close that I could have kissed her with barely a movement, only an inch or so away. “I don’t really know. A beer, I guess?”

I nodded coolly, and pressed against her to lean towards the bartender, not really intentionally, but I sure as fuck enjoyed every second of it. I could feel every little tremble in her body as I ordered two bottles of Bud.

“Thank you,” Sophie said, taking the bottle I held out to her.

“Anytime,” I smiled, and turned to look around the dimly lit barroom, trying my damnedest to chill the fuck out a little.

The key word there was trying. Because, even though I wasn’t looking directly at Sophie, I could feel her there, and it was so fucking hard to keep my eyes from straying in her direction as she watched the crowd with a wide-eyed fascination. I leaned into her a little and pointed towards the stage at the far end of the bar.

“There’re the guys,” I said. “Denny is the lead singer and plays a little guitar, Justin’s on the bass.” Sophie’s body sort of curved into mine a little as I spoke, tilting her ear up to my lips to hear me more clearly. I had to clear my throat to continue, like the raging stiffy I had going was starting to affect my ability to articulate. “Drew is the lead guitar, and Cody is on drums. Cody also works in my shop.”

“They’re very good,” she mused back at me, halfway shouting to be heard over the gritty, unruly chords and heavy beat. The guys always played intensely loud, and she turned slightly towards me, bracing her hand against my chest as she rose on her tiptoes and leaned into me to speak. The gentle touch burned through my shirt, clear through to my bones, as her words blew softly against my skin. “Have they been playing for very long?”

It was starting to get to where I just wanted to throw her over my shoulder and haul her into the restroom to fuck her silly. I instead looped my arm over her shoulder and tugged her closer to reply. “Yeah, since college. Denny came to Montana to go to Tech. He ended up in a quad with Justin, and they had a weekly radio show on the campus station. Once they started playing music with Cody and Drew, the four of them would bring instruments in to play live on the show. By the time Justin graduated and Denny dropped out, everyone in Silver Bow County knew who the Bangin’ Mofos were.”

“I bet,” she grinned as her body rocked a little to the beat, and her firm breast brushed against my chest.

“Wanna dance?” I asked.

Sophie shot an alarmed look up at me. “I can’t dance,” she started, shaking her head.

“You’re practically dancing right now.”

“No, I’m just… I can’t. Not to this.”

“Anyone can dance to this, Sophie,” I laughed. “It isn’t even really dancing, you just kind of move around a little with the rhythm.”

“No, really. I can’t. I only ever did ballet.”

“Ballet?” The image of Sophie’s curves encased in a sleek ballerina outfit did nothing to tamper down my growing need.

“When I was little, I took lessons.” She shook her head. “But never anything like this.”

“What about school dances,” I asked, placing my hand on her hips and pulling her close as I began to move. “Homecoming? Prom? I’d have bet money you were a prom queen.”

“I was, but I didn’t dance. Just one slow one when I was crowned. My mother—” She abruptly cut off her words and shook her head. “It was just something I wasn’t supposed to do.”

Dismissively, she dropped her gaze, taking a long tug on her beer to finish it off. I took the bottle from her hand and set it on the bar behind her.

“Come dance with me, Sophie,” I insisted, then took her hand and gently pulled her towards the dance floor.

Turned out, she actually could dance. Pretty well, really, once she came out of her shell and let the music flow through her body. I wrapped my arm around her, guiding her movements with my own at first until she got the idea, but before long, the rhythm took over. From one song to the next, she swayed against me as I pulled her closer, then rocked to the beat as I stepped back a bit. She even did a little head-banging-type thing which tossed her light blonde hair around her face in a way that was really fucking hot. Turned me on just as if she had her hand right on my dick, and I growled against her ear as I pulled her close. She laughed and radiated a pure revelry, so alive and stunning.

I was torn. Every movement of her body against mine had me raging. Painfully craving her nakedness. I was pretty sure my balls were going to be permanently damaged from the strain.

Yet, the light in her eyes made me want to dance with her forever. Watching her come alive as she explored this newfound freedom.

While the band ran through their set, other people came and left the dance floor. Lily showed up at one point and encouraged her to do a little girl-on-girl type thing that gave me all kinds of raunchy ideas. A few others gathered around us, frequent partiers that hung out with us guys a lot. The crowded floor kept the group tight, and, more often than not, Sophie seemed to gravitate towards me, as though I was her anchor in this sea of writhing bodies.

And, with every touch and word and smile, I fell a little harder for this enigma of a girl. Every layer I uncovered revealed another facet of her personality. Another fascinating enticement that drew me closer, making her even more desirable than before.

I was so screwed.

I was dying. It was nearly one-thirty in the morning and the bar was gearing down to close at two. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that I needed to get home and sleep. I was trying to finish up an overhaul and really had to get into the shop tomorrow morning, even if it was a fucking weekend.

But I didn’t want to leave her. I didn’t want to go another month or so without seeing her.

Sophie was quiet as we began the drive back to Ophir, staring out into the dark night, at the blanket of stars that settled over the mountaintops. Her hair was delightfully messy and limp from sweating it out on the dance floor, and she still hadn’t pulled her sweater back over that sexy little red shirt.

“I don’t ever want to go home,” she murmured absentmindedly.

Fuck, I didn’t either.

“How about breakfast?” I offered.

She looked over at me with a skeptical raised brow. “It’s the middle of the night.”

“No,” I grinned, “it’s really early in the morning. And Perkins is calling my name.”

“Perkins?”

“Open twenty-four hours, Soph. Even in Ophir.”

“I had no idea,” she mused. “It’s open all night?”

“Yeah, and nothing tastes better at two in the morning than chicken-fried steak and hash browns.”

“That sounds horribly unhealthy.” She narrowed her eyes at me in reproach, but there was a teasing smile that touched her lips.

“It is,” I laughed. “And it’s fucking awesome.”

Sophie nibbled at her lip as she looked back out into the darkness again, pondering my suggestion. I knew I had her when she turned back towards me with that naughty little look I’d seen on her face a few times before.

“Well,” she ceded, “I am pretty hungry, since we didn’t eat dinner and all.”

So we sat in a booth at Perkins at two in the morning eating chicken-fried steak and greasy hash browns. Best meal I’d ever had in all my life. Sophie devoured it, exclaiming at how wonderful it was with the breading and the spices.

“And, oh my God, this gravy is awesome.”

“It’s just plain old chicken-fried steak, Soph,” I chuckled. “You’re acting like it’s filet mignon or something.”

“I was born with a silver spoon. I’ve had filet mignon all my life,” she smiled, “but I’ve never had anything quite like this before. My mother would have a heart attack if she knew I was eating something so obviously bad for me.”

“Damn parents, always trying to make us eat healthy shit,” I laughed.

“Mine just doesn’t want me to get fat since that kind of flies in the face of perfection and all.”

“You're hardly fat, Soph.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I'm hardly skinny, Brannon.”

“Are you fucking with me? You’re, well…” I trailed off, trying to think of something to say that didn’t sound totally sexual. And failed. “Well, fuck… I'd do ya.”

Sophie gasped out a laugh. She dropped her gaze to her plate and her face turned a delightful self-conscious pink. “You have,” she shyly whispered.

“And you were really fucking good.” I leaned forward, across the table to lower my voice. “I'd do you again, and I don’t give many girls a second ride.”

“How flattering,” she laughed as she buried her face in her hands, shocked, but seeming to be intrigued all the same. “I should be mortified by that.”

I watched her closely, waiting for her to look back up at me. It took her a minute, but she finally raised her eyes up to meet mine. Fuck me, she was hot. “But you're not,” I murmured in a husky tone, “are you?”

She bit her lip and looked back down, toying with the last bit of her hash browns. A quiet little bubble seemed to surround us. Like it was just her and I existing in the glow of the pendant light over our table, buffered from the world around us.

“No,” she murmured and met my gaze again, “not at all.”

And then the bubble popped.

“Brannon, my boy, what’s the craic?” Denny asked walking up to the table followed by Cody, Justin, Drew, and Drew’s girlfriend Maggie. When he saw Sophie sitting across from me, his jaw hit the floor. “What the bloody hell?” he exclaimed.

All four guys were eyeing Sophie, then looking back at me in obvious question. Maggie was just looking at her in shock, like I was sitting with an alien.

“Hey, guys,” I leaned back against the seat and hoped they wouldn’t make a big deal about me being here with a girl.

“Who’s the bird?” Denny grinned down at Sophie.

Dammit.

“Bird?” Sophie asked with her eyebrows furrowed.

“Speak American, you Irish bastard,” Justin scowled and smacked him on the back of the head.

“He’s talking about you,” I grimaced, looking over at Sophie. “Sorry about this. I should have known these guys would show up.”

“Well, of course we’d show up,” Drew said, scoping the room for a bigger table. “It’s just shy of three in the morning on a Saturday night. We’ve been working hard and need sustenance.”

“Need to feed my boy,” Maggie grinned wickedly, snuggling up to his chest. “I have plans for you yet tonight.”

“So, what’s your name, sweetheart?” Denny asked Sophie directly this time, realizing that I was hesitant to answer.

“I can barely understand a word that you’re saying,” Sophie stared back at him.

“I think I’ve seen you before,” Justin smiled, laying on the charm.

I scowled up at him. “She was at a party at your place once, you dick.”

“At our place?” Justin asked.

“I think I remember you, now,” Denny murmured at Sophie, and her eyes went huge. “About a month or so back.”

Sophie’s mouth dropped open. Shit. I needed to get her the fuck out of there. Plus, I was kind of pissed at them for interfering on what had been kind of… well… a moment.

“This is Sophie,” I said, probably sounding a bit petulant. “Soph, these are the Bangin’ Mofos.” I pointed to each band member as I said their names. “There’s Denny, that’s Cody, Justin’s the tall one in the back, and that’s Drew and his girlfriend Maggie.” Turning back to Denny, I scowled. “And we’re just finishing up, so let me out of the booth, you fucker.”

“Fine, ya tosser,” he laughed. “Go home and get some sleep.” He slanted his gaze over to Sophie. “Or whatever else ya had in mind.”

Denny stepped back as I stood and looked down at Sophie who clearly understood what he’d said that time. “Ready to go, Soph?”

Blushing profusely, Sophie nodded and slid out of the seat. “Yes,” she murmured. “Good God, yes.” She stood beside me, and waved a mortified little flip as she headed out of the restaurant. I dropped a few bills on the table to cover our food, shot the guys one last dirty look, which only made them laugh, and followed her.

“Soph?” I began as I pulled up to her apartment building.

“Hmm?” she asked with a slightly exhausted smile. In the pale gleam of the streetlight, her skin glowed.

“This may sound lame as hell,” I began, “but I don’t want you to disappear on me again. I had a lot of fun with you tonight.”

Her sleepy grin faded into tender, sweet astonishment. “Really? I was… fun?”

“Well, yeah,” I answered, puzzled by her response. “Why does that surprise you?”

Sophie opened her mouth to respond, then thought better of it and shook her head. She softly gave a low, breathy laugh. “Thank you,” she finally said in a whisper.

“For what?”

“For this. Tonight. Letting me experience your world.” She gave me a shy, sidelong smile. “It was a blast.”

“Yeah, it was,” I agreed and grinned back like a loon. “They play almost every Friday and Saturday night at the Copperline, so you’re welcome to tag along anytime you want.”

“I’d like that.”

Kiss her! I thought to myself. But before I could make a move, she stuck out her hand.

Fuck, a handshake. Not a good sign.

But I thought about my gramps, and the lessons he’d taught me about women when we used to sit around and watch old movies. Black and white with glamorous women and the men who seduced with their subtle, smooth gestures. Cary Grant, Humphrey Bogart, Gary Cooper… those guys would have made something of a handshake. Something unexpected and romantic.

I gave her a bit of an indirect glance as I enveloped her palm in mine, then drew it up and turned her hand slightly to expose the fine, porcelain underside of her wrist and brushed it with a feathery kiss.

“Oh,” Sophie whispered, blushing faintly, almost as though all thought had simply escaped through her lips.

“What are you doing next Friday?” I asked.

“I think I’d like to come with you to the Copperline.”

“Okay,” I chuckled. “I’ll pick you up at about seven o’clock.”

“I'll be waiting.”

So would I. All fucking week.

“So, your little rich girl showed up at the salon again today.”

I eyed Lily warily as she leaned over the engine compartment of the late model Buick I was working on. I vividly remembered everything she’d said the other night at the Copperline. All the mortifying shit about me taking chicks home from the bar, but never showing up with one. The thought of her and Sophie in the same room without me sent a little shiver of pure terror through my spine. I could only imagine all the horrid immorality of my past that could have been front and center in their conversation.

“And?” I coolly asked as I tried my best to remain aloof and focused on the engine in front of me. “Another makeover? What color is her hair this time?”

“Actually, she wanted to get her nose pierced.”

The ratchet slipped right out of my hand and clanged its way around the engine to the floor. “She what?”

“Yeah, but we don’t do that, so I took her down to Drew’s tat shop. He’s got a new girl that does piercing.” Lily gave me a crooked grin. “Seems like your good little girl wants to be bad.”

I narrowed my eyes at Lily, then glanced over at Cody, who had taken a sudden interest in the discussion. I rolled my eyes and dropped to the floor to grab the tool.

“She’s not mine, Lily.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Brannon,” Lily laughed. “You never bring a girl to the bar with you. Never.”

I clenched my jaw and ignored the jibe. Unfortunately, Cody seemed to find it rather humorous. “Damn,” he grinned, “that’s right. Brannon, what’s up with this chick?”

“We’re friends,” I grumbled. “Now, shut the fuck up before I fire your ass.”

“Friends who met fucking,” Lily countered, and Cody bellowed with laughter. “I’m serious, Cody. She showed up at my salon one day, pissed at the world and wanted to unload. So I helped bring out her inner smut muffin, brought her to the party that night, and pointed her towards the best of the best.”

“Thanks for thinking of me,” I glowered and dripped sarcasm, “but you can shut the fuck up now, Lily.”

“Wait a minute,” Cody said with a touch of awe in his voice, “you tapped that? Are you shittin’ me?”

I gave Cody a murderous stare. “It’s none of your fucking business, asswipe.”

“Holy fuck, you did,” he gaped and turned to Lily. “What the hell? Why didn’t you point me out? Brannon gets enough pussy as it is. I could use a little high class thing like her.”

The blood began to pound in my veins. Fucker was talking about my girl. Granted, she wasn’t officially my girl. I wasn’t about to get tied down, but I still wanted him to lay the fuck off.

“I pointed you out, too, Cody,” Lily explained. “I pointed out a few guys. But…” she gave me a knowing smile, “she picked Brannon.”

“Fucker,” Cody mumbled.

“That’s it. You’re fired,” I replied.

“Again?” he chuckled. “Didn’t you already fire me once this week?”

“Then what the fuck are you doing here?” I grumbled back.

“Awe,” Cody grinned, “I know you don’t really mean it.”

“Anyway,” Lily interrupted loudly, “just thought you might like to know. It’s a pretty little sparkly stud. An aquamarine or something, if I remember right.” She shrugged and headed for the door, tossing the words casually over her shoulder. “It’s kinda cute. Tasteful, of course, because it’s Sophie. But kind of an… edgy version of Sophie.”

I straightened as she glanced back at me before leaving. Folding my arms across my chest, I knew I looked halfway pissed, even though just the mention of Sophie’s name did all kinds of shit to me. And the knowledge that Sophie was doing something ‘edgy’ had me rather intrigued. Wondering what other edgy things she might be thinking about.

With a little wave, Lily disappeared out the door. I grabbed a rag and wiped my hands on it, rubbing away the grease and grime from the Buick. I could feel Cody watching me closely. Lily had definitely stirred something inside me with that little bit of information, and I suddenly felt restless and cagey.

Awe, fuck it.

“Think you can get this back together on your own?” I asked Cody as I tossed the rag down on the tool cart. “I need to run an errand.”

He grinned. Widely. I swear I saw every fucking tooth he had.

“Sure, B-dog,” he nodded, failing miserably to hide his amusement. “No problem.”

B-dog. The nickname he tended to pin on me when I was on the prowl. That bastard knew exactly where I was going.

“You’re fired,” I muttered, ignoring his chuckle as I headed for the door.

At first I wasn’t sure if she was home. I had no clue what kind of car she drove, but I was pretty sure I was knocking on the right door and nobody was answering. An older lady from the place next to hers poked her head out at my continued thumping.

“Can I help you, son?” she asked with a sweet, little old lady smile.

“I’m looking for Sophie Buchanan,” I replied, and noticed a curious light spark up in the woman’s eyes. “This is her place, right?”

“Oh, yes,” she said. “It sure is.”

Suddenly, the door before me flew open, and there was Sophie, breathless and flushed with a little sparkling gem on the side of her nose that almost matched the bright blueish-green of her eyes.

“Holy shit,” I gasped, “you really did it.”

“Brannon?” she asked. “What are you doing here?” Noticing the older lady watching this exchange closely, Sophie gave a quick wave. “Hey, Ethel.”

“Sophie,” the woman nodded with a knowing smile, then stepped back into her own apartment and shut the door.

“Lily stopped by the garage,” I explained, studying her closely, “told me about your… outing.”

“Do you like it?” she asked nervously.

Did I like it? Fuck, yeah, I liked it.

“I do. It’s kind of sexy, but I’m kind of guessing that your folks are gonna freak.”

“Yeah, they are.” She shuffled her feet. “I don’t know, I just…” Her voice trailed off as she shook her head. She stepped back into her apartment, leaving the door open so I could follow her.

Sophie’s small living room was not what I expected. I figured it would reek of money, which it did, but that was about the only thing I anticipated.

The design was modern. Looked like something out of an interior design magazine. Sharp lines, lots of mirrors, and along the wall above the couch were three enormous sketches on canvas. I’d seen pictures that were similar. I recognized them as being modeled after photos of glamorous silver screen actresses. Ingrid Bergman with her long, white gown from the nightclub in Casablanca. Audrey Hepburn in her little black dress, daintily tipping a long cigarette holder to her lips. And my gramdpa’s favorite, Grace Kelly, sitting with her skirts fanned around her, looking almost angelic in the shadowy light.

But they were all Sophie.

Very well done, and beautiful, yes. But this narcissism was not what I expected from the vibrant girl I had come to know. The girl I had fucked until she screamed on the Mofos’ couch. The girl who had danced the night away with me at the Copperline.

I just sort of stood frozen, wondering what twilight zone I had stepped into.

Sophie zeroed in on my shock at the decor.

“Don’t ask,” she murmured as she walked over to the couch and perched on the edge.

I shook my head and pointed to the sketches with my thumb. “Those are you,” I said in a wry daze, then motioned around the entire room. “But this… this is really not.”

Sophie followed my gaze, looking around the room with a sad twist to her lovely little mouth. “No, this most definitely is not.” She drew her knees up to her chest, stocking feet on the couch, and wrapped her arms around her folded legs. “I’m not sure what is me, but it’s not this. My mother picked out the apartment, and a friend of hers decorated it for me right before I came back from France.”

I looked at the muted grays, the black and white. The only color in the room was the bright turquoise color of Sophie’s eyes in the pictures. Everything was placed just… so. The shelves held an assortment of classic literature, all bound in black leather with silver lettering. A few fashion magazines sat on the low coffee table next to a wide vase filled with some sort of white floofy flowers.

It looked… perfect. Staged.

Completely lifeless.

“Just a hunch, but I’m thinking that all this,” I waved my hand around the sterile decor, then pointed at her new piercing, “has something to do with this. And the deal a while back at the party.”

She flushed a little at the mention of that first night we had spent together, and her teeth caught her lip with a nervous pull.

“It’s all so hard to explain,” she shrugged. “It’s like there’s something trapped in me. Like I’ve been good for so long.” She sat on the couch with her feet tucked up under her. I was absolutely terrified of sitting on the white couch with my greasy shop clothes, so I crossed to her coffee table, sitting in front of her, and watched her closely. “I know it will just sound so crazy.”

“Try me,” I said.

Her aqua blue eyes caught mine and she studied me closely. The apprehension she felt was written all over her face.

“I grew up in a museum, Brannon,” she said after a minute. “I was raised by servants and dressed up to more or less perform for my parents and their friends every now and then. I was a doll. A puppet. A showpiece. Something they could present so everyone would know how great their genetics were, how awesome their breeding was. How high they were up on the food chain. I’m expected to act a certain way, to talk like they want and walk like they want. And certainly never to make waves.”

She looked down, dusting an imaginary piece of lint from her yoga pants, then turned her eyes back to me. “But I can’t do that anymore. I was going to. My whole life was going to be like that. And then I saw Richard and Alyssa together.”

“Alyssa?”

“She was my best friend, I guess. Ran in the same circles. Pretty much just like me.”

“There’s nobody just like you, Sophie,” I smiled.

She gave a dry chuckle. “Apparently not, because she offered something I didn’t. Something Richard wanted. They’d been messing around for a while, I guess. A lot of people knew. When I found out, I broke up with him. I suddenly wanted to…” She trailed off, shaking her head with a sad smile. “Anyway, I ended up at Lily’s shop. I had driven by it a million times, and it looked like such a fun place. So colorful. And I wanted to be someplace new. I wanted something wild. I went in and asked her to play with my hair, then sort of unloaded and told her…” She closed her eyes for a moment and swallowed hard. “I told her I wanted a one-night stand. She suggested I come to the party.”

I made a mental note to kiss Lily’s feet the next time I saw her.

“I thought that, maybe if I was tainted somehow, if I was just a little less perfect, I could live with myself. But it doesn’t matter what really happens, it’s all about how it looks. And I still looked like Sophie. My parents still want me to marry him. He still wants me to marry him. I just…” She shook her head and motioned around the room. “I’m tired of pretending to be this.”

“Sophie, you shouldn’t have to pretend for anyone.”

“Remember me telling you that I took ballet as a kid?”

I nodded, and she dropped her gaze down to her hands.

“I loved it. Feeling the music flow through my body. I could get lost in it. I practiced all the time. But when I was about twelve, when my body started to develop, my mother pulled me out.” She frowned at the unpleasant memory. “It was clear that I wasn’t going to have a lean dancers build. She said I’d look foolish. Plump and desperate. Especially compared to the other girls.”

“What the fuck?” I growled. “What a bitch of a thing for your mom to say. Jesus, your body is hot as hell.”

Sophie gave a caustic laugh and shook her head with disbelief. “Whatever.”

“I’ve seen a lot of tits and ass, Sophie,” I said seriously. “I’m kind of an expert in the field, really. But honestly, you… I’ve seen you in action, in a few different ways. There’s truly something magic about the way you move. You could never look foolish.”

Her eyes flashed up to mine, hot and startled. She seemed to be searching for something in my expression. I wasn’t sure if she found it, but she confessed in a quiet voice.

“You don’t know the half of it, though.”

“Okay,” I asked warily, “what else have you done?”

“Well, nothing really. Not yet. It’s just… all the things I want to do.”

“Like what, Soph?” I asked softly.

A faint tremble sounded in her breath as she looked at me for a moment before answering. “I want to smoke pot.”

Not really what I was expecting. “What?” I chuckled.

She frowned at me. “Seriously. I want to smoke pot. Marijuana.”

“I know what pot is. But you—”

“I’ve never done it. I always envied the kids that smoked pot in school. I remember watching them talk about it in the hallways and laugh about how much fun they had. Have you ever done it?”

I laughed. “Honey, my best friends are in a band. Yeah, I’ve done it. Not like regularly, but now and then.” I tilted my head to give her a sidelong glance. “You know, though, most people get this whole rebellion thing out of the way at a much younger age.”

“I know.” Sophie shook her head with a little dismay at her late-bloomery. “I’m twenty-three years old, and I never do anything wrong. Ever. I always follow the rules. I always do what I’m told. Not a hair out of place or a wrinkle in my clothes.” Sophie looked at me with a wry smile. “I was well on my way to becoming the perfect Stepford wife.”

This made me chuckle, and Sophie smiled before looking at me steadily and continuing in a low, determined voice.

“I want to do all those things that the cool kids did. All the things I was too scared to do.” She leaned forward towards me, searching my eyes. “I want to get really, really drunk. I want to get stoned.” Her voice dropped to the faintest of whispers. “I want to kiss a girl.”

Holy fuck.

“I want to ride a motorcycle. Without a helmet.”

That one sort of made me want to laugh, but she seemed so sober and earnest, so I kept it in, settling for a smile.

“The other night, at the Copperline… that was amazing. I want to do that again, to dance all night and go to breakfast at three in the morning and to bed when the sun comes up. I want…” she paused for a minute, and then whispered, “I want public woohoo.”

“Public woohoo?” I choked. No way. She couldn’t mean what I was thinking.

“Yeah, like on the Sims where they do it in a dressing room or something.”

Holy fuck, she totally meant what I was thinking.

But Sophie wasn’t done.

“I want to have a threesome.”

My jaw dropped open. I had never been more shocked in all my life. This prim and proper little thing, this picture of class and refinement, wanted a… a threesome? My brain went completely defunct for a minute. The thought of watching someone else touch her while I touched her, to worship her satiny skin alongside me and taste her and… oh fuck.

“Brannon,” she whispered shakily, “say something.”

My voice sounded strangled when I finally got a few words out. “Like with two dudes, or a dude and another chick?” Not very articulate, but it was all I could spit out at the moment.

Sophie pursed her lips nervously. “Well, I do want to kiss a girl. But I think, for a threesome… I want two men.”

The motorcycle surprised me. The kissing a girl floored me. The public woohoo bewildered me. But the threesome damn near killed me off.

“And I want to get a tattoo,” she continued.

This time, I couldn’t stop the hoarse chuckle that escaped my body. “Um,” I quietly murmured, absofuckinglutely mind-blown by her deep, dark desires, “in that order?”

She breathed out a hesitant laugh. “You look a little surprised.”

I just nodded. My head was whirling with a fucking million different scenarios, all including Sophie, most of them including Sophie naked, some of them with her screaming my name. As she watched me carefully, gauging my response, I finally managed to coax a halfway cognizant thought from my astounded brain.

“Um, you know… I could help you out with some of that.”

With my words, her breathing began to come a little faster, a little harder. With every inhalation, her beautiful tits raised to press against the sweet rounded curve of her neckline.

“Obviously,” I said, “there are a few things I can’t do. I’m not a tattoo artist, but Drew has his shop where you got your nose pierced. And Denny’s generally got some pot laying around. Says it helps his creativity when he’s writing music.” I gave her a sidelong smile. “Mind you, you might end up in a song, though.”

Sophie smiled and gave a breathy laugh.

“I’m happy to take you to the Copperline anytime you want. And we can have breakfast again at Perkins afterwards. And, um, you hang out at enough Mofo parties with me, I think we could get that whole kissing a girl thing worked out.” Unable to resist the pull of her soft lips, I brushed my thumb across the beautiful bow of her mouth. “Just, um… make sure I’m there to see it.” She choked out a half-mortified laugh, but her eyes lit with an intense heat. “Really, Soph,” I almost groaned, “I’d hate to miss that.”

Her eyes lowered for a second, just a short little quiet second where I was afraid she was going to slip the mask back on. That this sudden bout of confession was a flash in the pan and she was going to disappear into her demure facade.

“We can start there and work up to, um…” my throat suddenly felt tight and choked as my voice faded off. Sophie cocked her head just a little, silently encouraging me to continue. “Work up to the… the threesome.”

Her whole affect changed, and there was a sudden heat in her eyes that mingled with the challenge in my voice. A vibrant electricity seemed to hover in the air around us, and something tingled in my bloodstream, burning through my veins.

“Okay,” she whispered, her face flushed and her tongue darting out to wet her soft lips. “I would like that very much.”

Oh, Jesus fucking Christ.

“Dude,” I said into the phone to Denny as Sophie and I climbed in my Cougar, “you home? It’s four-twenty.”

Sophie looked at me confused and whispered, holding up her own phone to show me the time displayed. “Brannon, it’s only two-forty-five.”

I grinned at her and shook my head. “It’s an expression, baby,” I chuckled.

“What the fuck?” Denny sputtered as he overheard my explanation. “You’re bringing a loosebit with ya?”

“Yeah, Sophie’s coming with me.”

“Holy shit,” he mumbled, “your little rich bird from Perkins the other night? She’s coming to my house to get baked?”

“Well, that’s what we’re trying to do,” I said with an exaggerated emphasis.

“Jaysus,” Denny replied. “Um, yeah, I’ve got some. Come on over. It’ll be good craic.”

“Dude,” I sighed, “sometimes it’s like you’re not even speaking English.”

“I’m not, you tosser,” he laughed back, “I’m speakin’ Irish.”

“Okay, well, we’ll be there in about ten.”

I hit end to disconnect the call and looked over at Sophie to see her eyebrows knitted in confusion.

“Four-twenty means it’s time to get stoned, Soph.”

“Oh…” she murmured, and her eyebrows rose, then drew together again, looking rather perplexed. “My God, it’s like a whole new language.”

“It’s okay,” I reassured her with a light chuckle. “I’ll make sure nothing bad happens to you.”

“What if I don’t like it?” Sophie whispered in trepidation as Denny lit up the joint.

“You don’t have to do it, Soph,” I offered.

“No, I want to,” she quickly reassured me, shaking her head with some determination. “I do. Really.”

“So,” I replied, “if you do try it and don’t like it, you sure as hell don’t have to do anymore.”

“Okay,” she nodded as she watched Denny take a hefty drag. Then her expression grew a little worried again. “What if I do like it? What if I become a raging pothead? Or what if I get paranoid? I’ve heard—”

“I’ll be right here. I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise,” I reassured her.

“But you’re going to get stoned, too, right?”

“I’ll take a couple hits, but I’m not planning to get too baked since you’ve never done this. I don’t know how it will affect you, so I want to be somewhat clear-headed.”

I took the joint Denny handed me. He had an amused smile on his face, probably mirroring mine. Sophie was kind of adorable when she was nervous, and she was clearly on edge. Even kind of over the edge already, like Wylie Coyote hovering in midair for a second right before he’d fall. I just hoped she didn’t go into full panicky freak-out mode when she was actually high.

“What you do is just draw a little into your lungs and hold it for a few seconds,” I explained, and took a deep inhalation of the sweet smoke. After a few seconds, I let it out slowly, blowing it off to the side a bit so I could focus on Sophie’s face. I felt the initial tingle of calm, the promise of imminent relaxation and Zen. Then I held out the joint so she could take a hit.

Rather than taking it from me, she leaned her face towards my hand. I tipped it slightly so she could reach, and she carefully took a drag.

Watching her lips close over the joint was surprisingly erotic. Way more so than I’d have ever thought. Way more than I’d ever seen with another chick. I didn’t often smoke pot with girls, mostly just a bunch of us dudes. On the rare occasion that a girl had been around, I’d not felt anything remotely like this. But now, I could only remember how those soft lips had felt on my skin, and, as she breathed in, I felt a tremor ripple straight through my body right to my dick.

Then she lifted her head and immediately exhaled everything in a puff of smoke. “Like that?”

“Oh, Jaysus, Mary, and Joseph,” Denny laughed with mock horror. “Don’t waste it. You need to draw it into your lungs.” He reached for the joint which I handed over. “Like this.” He put it to his lips and breathed in deeply, holding his breath for an exaggerated period of time before releasing the pent up breath. He exhaled, breathing the smoke right towards Sophie and enveloping her into an intoxicating cloud.

Sophie coughed a little, but smiled and nodded. “Okay, let me try again.”

Denny handed her the weed, and she pinched it between her thumb and forefinger, emulating him almost perfectly. This time she held it in, only choking just a little tiny bit as she let it back out. She glanced back and forth between the two of us with a troubled expression.

“I don’t feel anything yet. Shouldn’t I feel something? What if it doesn’t work on me?”

“It’ll take a minute or two,” I grinned. She held the joint back out to me, and I shook my head and nodded towards Denny. “I don’t want to get too baked, Soph. I’m not sure how you’ll take to it.”

“Take another,” Denny gestured to her. “It won’t take too long before you feel it.”

She drew in again, closing her eyes. She didn’t choke this time, and the expression on her face was softening. Relaxing. When she looked back at me this time, I could faintly see the physical signs that it was starting to hit her. I gave her a reassuring smile, and she lazily grinned back.

Denny nudged her arm a bit, and she handed it back to him, watching him, studying his technique, grinning widely as he blew little smoke rings in the air. The two of them passed it back and forth, and Sophie got a rather adorable case of the giggles.

After some time, she focused on my face again. Sort of, anyway. Her gaze seemed to be getting a bit blurry. Languid. Her eyes began to glass over and her pupils dilated, but zeroed in on my face with a suddenly serious focus as she leaned forward.

“You know,” she murmured, “you have the most beautiful eyes.” She studied me closely. “They’re so… so… gray… ish… blue.”

“I take it you’re starting to feel it,” I chuckled, grazing her cheek with my thumb.

She gave me a lazy smile and erupted into another round of giggling. “But they are. Really gray and… blue.”

Denny handed me the joint, and I took a deep draw on it. Without exhaling, I hoarsely uttered, “Open your mouth and inhale, Soph.”

She did as I asked, and I closed my lips over hers and slowly let the smoke out of my lungs, feeling her drawing it into hers, holding it in her. Her laughter dissolved into a moan as she slipped her arms around my neck and melted against me, allowing the euphoric calm to spread throughout our bodies.

“Oh my,” she whispered breathlessly after I let her come up for air.

The thick, sweet smoke swirled around us, between us. It veiled the reality of the world outside our own little haze. Her eyes slowly fluttered halfway open to focus on my mouth, and her tongue leisurely slid along her lips to taste my kiss.

“Kiss me again,” she breathed. “I love how you kiss me. Please.”

Please.

Jesus Christ, that one little word, that faint hint of desperation in her voice, was going to haunt me for the rest of my fucking life.

Time seemed to just stop. The feel of her lips on mine intoxicated me more than the weed, and I savored her taste, every sigh of sheer, relaxed bliss. I could have spent hours kissing her. It sort of felt like I did. Like I was lost in the sweet caress of her lips and her hair and her body. I was thoroughly enraptured by her lethargic movements and the provocative slide of her tongue.

I leaned into her a little more, and she slowly fell back onto the couch, giggling a little into my mouth as I covered her with my body. My dick was throbbing, but at the same time I felt like this could last forever. The ache was there, but the urgency I normally felt had been replaced with a sense of supreme contentment to just be lying there cradled snugly by her thighs.

“Don’t ever stop kissing me, Bran,” she whispered against my lips. “Please, I feel like I’m going under. Don’t let me go.”

“Jaysus,” I heard Denny mutter, “that’s pure hot. I need to write that shite down like.” I vaguely heard him get up and move across to the table where loads of sheet music and notebooks of lyrics lay.

And still I kissed Sophie. Her supple little body wrapping itself around mine as she kissed me back slowly. With a sedate fascination that swallowed me whole.

“My God, you can kiss,” she whispered against my lips. “I’m lost.”

I heard the occasional scratch of Denny’s pencil. Muffled sounds of passion filled the room, washing over us while we lay there in each other’s arms, barely moving but for the deep exploration of our kiss. It felt like hours. Days. Like a dream.

“Touch me, Bran,” she murmured, and began to pull at my clothes. “Please. I want to feel your skin on mine.”

I lifted my head, but couldn’t pull my focus from the heated flush and sensuality in Sophie’s face.

“Get the fuck out of here, Denny,” I growled, and dipped my face to kiss her again.

“Wait,” Sophie moaned, pushing back into the couch just a little to look at me. She clutched at my t-shirt as she glanced anxiously over at Denny and then back to me, searching my eyes. “Let him watch.”

The exhibitionist in me did fucking cartwheels, and my already throbbing dick became almost unbearable.

“Feckin’ hell, yeah,” Denny groaned, “let me watch.”

“Sophie,” I breathed, studying her closely for even the slightest hint of hesitation, “are you sure? I don’t want you to regret this.”

“I’d regret not doing this, Brannon,” she exhaled as her hips pressed hard up into mine. “Please… this is something I’ve always wanted, to be watched.”

“Fuck.” My breath rushed out of me as she leaned up to kiss me again. She wrapped her arms tight around my neck and curved her body into me, silently begging me.

With a jagged moan, I slowly pulled the clothes from her body and she, in turn, tugged at mine. I was unable to truly focus on anything but her sweet lips as she kissed me, the burning touch of our newly bared skin. On the tender need in her voice as she whispered once again.

“Please, Brannon,” she whispered. “Please.”

I sheathed myself and pressed into her slowly, watching her through the haze of my arousal and intoxication as she drew her face back and closed her eyes. A soft little ‘oh’ escaped her lips as I filled her slowly, right there in front of Denny, arranging our bodies to let him see our joining. I’d never gotten high and fucked someone, and adding this voyeuristic angle to it was so… surreal. Amazing and delectable.

Plus, the weed did some incredible shit for my stamina. I’m pretty sure I could have kept going forever. Soft moans echoed from Sophie’s throat to echo through the air. They filled the darkness, accompanied by the zip of Denny’s jeans and his faint, occasional quiet groans and grunts as he began to rub one off. Sophie’s nails dug into my shoulders as she looked up at me with a glassy expression. Her fingertips slid up my neck to my jawline.

“God, Bran,” she whispered, “the things you make me feel.”

“Feckin’ hell,” the faint whisper said from across the room.

Sophie glanced over to Denny, watching him for a moment as he stroked his bared cock. Her pussy tightened around me, and I ground into her, relishing in her firm, hot grip. The movement wrought a ragged moan from her and brought her eyes back to mine.

“Fuck me, Brannon,” she breathed, “fuck me hard and fierce.”

The eroticism of her husky words and the buzz of being watched finally seeped through the marijuana haze, and I began to move faster, pressing deeper and watching raptly as the sensations played across her mellowed expression. Her fingers tangled into my hair, her nails scraped against my scalp. Our bodies began to shimmer in the dimly lit room with a hot-cold gleam of perspiration, and her hips began to buck against me, to meet my thrusts.

Reaching down, I thumbed her clit, slowly at first, then rapidly as I coaxed her closer to the edge, to the freedom of release. As she began to shudder below me, Denny let out another long groan, and I continued on, drawing out every trembling, shuddering wave of her bliss. Slowing to firmly press inside her, then faster to use the force of my hips to make her cry out. Pounding into her with a renewed vitality that sent shockwaves through my frame.

She sobbed against my shoulder, and I pulled back to see tears running unheeded down her cheeks.

“Sophie?” I asked, “Baby?”

“Harder,” she gasped with abandon, “don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”

I kissed her hard, tasting her tears and feeling her need for reassurance, for the strength of my budding feelings, something I couldn’t put into words just yet. I wrapped her tightly into my arms and pounded into her, stroking long and deep and slow until my balls tightened up and I couldn’t stave off the awesome tide of passion. Denny’s voice could barely be heard above the slap of our skin. “Jaysus.”

And I came so hard I damn near passed out. I fucking saw flashes of light as I let loose. It was like an out-of-body experience, and my mind was obliterated for a long while after.

I vaguely heard the faint click of the door as Denny quietly left the room, bringing me back somewhat. We lay there quietly, sated and overcome. Our breathing began to return to normal, and Sophie’s body gradually relaxed and softened into an exhausted sleep. I was in a daze and overcome, completely. At long last, I shifted. Sophie gave a whisper of a gasp as I pulled out of her and left her for a moment to quickly dispose of the condom. Then I pulled the plushy blanket over us and curled my body around her, tucking her into the protection of my arms.

And I slept.

Like a motherfucking rock.

I woke up a few hours later with Sophie still nestled tightly against my side. Her features were relaxed in sleep, her control nonexistent. She even gave a tidge of a snore now and then, and it fed a sense of intimacy that unnerved me somewhat. I trailed my fingertip down her cheek and just barely pressed my lips to hers, just gentle and sweet. Through the haze of sleep, she slowly began to respond with a faint little moan.

She was probably still not entirely feeling herself, although the effects of the weed were surely beginning to wear off. Her movements were slightly lethargic, but held a purpose as she molded herself even closer to me. She angled her face to deepen the kiss and slid her hand up to comb her fingers through my hair.

I lifted my head to look down at her, cupping her cheek in my palm. Her eyes, still a touch glassy, caught mine. I watched her as she watched me. Quiet and still. Spellbound.

“You’re so beautiful,” I finally murmured.

I’d whispered it countless times to countless girls, but never with the honest reverence and conviction I felt at this moment. But maybe Sophie knew it was a line, because, rather than the usual smile and coo I tended to receive, she frowned. Her eyebrows furrowed and her gaze swept off beside me. Then she pushed at me gently to slide out from under me. She sat up on the edge of the couch, tucking the fleece blanket against her breasts with a beguiling attempt at modesty.

Well, that was odd.

“Soph?” I whispered as I sat up and touched her shoulder, a little confused and concerned, “You okay?”

She took a deep breath and nodded, then faced me to give me a half smile. “Yeah, still a little out of it, I think.”

“It might take a while to wear off completely.” My fingertips trailed through the long, tousled strands of her hair. The light strands seemed to take on a bluish hue in the dim neon beer light, and the curves of her body were highlighted with the shadows. I stroked her hair and ran my fingers down her bare back, tracing down the delicate curves of her spine. It took a little time, but the sudden tension that had filled her slowly began to fade. Her posture relaxed and her eyes finally fluttered closed with a sweet, blissful sigh.

“So, what were you thinking of for a tattoo?” I asked in a low voice to get her talking to me again.

“I don’t know,” she replied in a low voice. “Not something huge and crazy, but something meaningful.” She leaned into me and traced the phoenix across my chest. “What do yours mean? What made you decide what to get?”

I smiled. “We could be here all night if I start. I’ve got quite a few, and some are kind of deep-rooted in unresolved childhood issues. Growing up without a father and all.”

Sophie faintly chuckled. “I don’t have any plans that I need to rush off for.” She looked up at me with a faint upturn to her lips that really did some serious shit to my dick, then turned her attention back to the ink on my body. “What was your first one?”

I held up my forearm, displaying the scripted words that ran along the underside. “This,” I answered. “It’s some lyrics that Denny wrote for a friend of ours who overdosed. A bunch of us guys got it, sort of to keep him close.”

“That’s really sweet,” she murmured. “A little surprising.”

“Surprising?”

“Yeah, that’s pretty deep for a bunch of dudes who seem to… well, you guys don’t seem to let a lot get to you. That’s all.”

“We’re all tough on the outside,” I said, pressing a firm kiss to her shoulder, “but not heartless.”

She tipped her head to the side to touch the words at my neck. “Do or die?”

I gave her a sidelong grin. “It’s a reminder to live every day like it’s my last.”

Her hands trailed from my neck back down to the phoenix on my chest. “And this? What is it for?”

“My phoenix. Rising from the ashes. Overcoming the adversity life can throw at us all.” It was hard to concentrate on my words when she kept stroking the flames and the feathers outlined on my skin. “Strength and character—” I continued, then abruptly stopped as my breath caught. Her fingers had changed direction, causing her nails to scrape across my nipple as she fiddled with the small, delicate ring that pierced it. The sound drew her eyes up to mine, and her pupils pooled luminous and dark in the dim blue glow of neon. I captured her hand and kissed her fingertips, unable to think with her hands on my skin. “What is something you’ve always loved? Something that you see and you just can’t help but smile?”

Sophie thought for a minute, her gaze fixed on my lips. After a moment, she answered. “Kermit the Frog,” she shyly whispered. “My nanny allowed me one hour of TV a day when I was little. And it was always Sesame Street. Kermit was the best part. He just seemed so sweet, like he cared so much. Someone I wanted to have around. But that’s not all badass like your tattoos.”

I lifted my arm and pointed to a tat low on my ribs. “I have Marvin the Martian.”

“Oh my gosh,” she said with hushed surprise, “you do.”

“Marvin made me smile,” I grinned.

Her eyes left the tat to meet mine. “So Kermit wouldn’t be dumb?” she asked.

“Not at all.”

Sophie moved closer, slipping the blanket from between us, and lifted her arms around my shoulders. Her warm naked body leaned against mine.

“Then I want Kermit,” she whispered. My hand lifted to cup her cheek, my thumb brushing along her jaw. She leaned into the touch, and her eyes focused in on the ink at my wrist. “I love this, though,” she said. She reached for my arm and traced her finger along the tribal heart tattooed around my wrist. “Would it be weird if I got Kermit in the middle of something like this?”

I laughed lightly. “No, it would be unique, and that’s what tattoos are supposed to be.” Her fingertips ran along the pattern of black ink, tracing all the sharp lines. That faintest little touch was getting me all wound up again, making my dick hard as granite. “Drew could draw something for you. He’s amazingly talented. He’s done most of my art.”

“At first glance, I’d have never guessed you’d have a heart tattoo. Why did you get it?” she asked softly, not looking at me, but enthralled by the intricate twists and turns of the tat that almost encircled my wrist.

Swallowing hard, I paused just a moment before answering. “I had a huge crush on a girl who didn’t know I existed. She was just unattainable. The concept of love just seemed… painful. Jagged, like sharp thorns that wrapped around my heart.”

“It needs something in the middle. It’s beautiful, but it seems… lonely.” She seemed a touch despondent by the thought that I had an unrequited love, and her eyes lifted to meet mine with compassion.

I hesitated at first, then slowly nodded. This was touching on some dangerous ground. “Just… a bit empty inside,” I whispered with reservation.

Sophie’s fingertips left my wrist to trail down my jaw as she studied my guarded expression.

“She was an idiot.” Her hushed tone felt like the most gentle of caresses as it filtered through my mind.

She was you, I thought.

I almost said it, but Sophie would have freaked if she knew.

I was just her rebound guy. Her trip down naughty lane. I knew better than to think anything would ever come of this. Even though knowing that kind of sucked ass.

Fuck, time to change the subject.

“Okay,” I said, clearing my throat and doing my best to adopt a lighthearted grin, “so where do you want to get it?”

“I have no idea,” she replied, pursing her lips. “Where did you get all yours done?”

“Drew did most of mine in his shop, where you got your nose pierced. But what I meant was, where on your body?”

“Oh,” she said as her worried look intensified. “I suppose someplace where I can keep it a little bit secret. Sort of private.”

I eased her back to lie on the couch, pulling the blanket away from her hips. Her naked body glowed in the blue light, ethereal and pristine, a curvaceous, blank canvas waiting for a little taste of art. “There’re a lot of places. Your shoulder.” My fingers trailed from her collarbone, skimming around the soft swell of her breast and down her torso. Her body trembled, and her nipple peaked hard as goosebumps rose along her flesh. “Your ribs. But this,” I swept my fingers towards the tender skin just down and over from her hip bone, just shy of brushing along the sweetness of her pussy, “sexiest place ever to have a little ink.” I slid back on the couch and leaned over to press a firm kiss there, followed by a nip of my teeth. “What do you think?”

“Yes,” she gasped in a broken breath, “there.”

I glanced up at Sophie’s face and felt a ripple of longing roll through her. My fingertip feathered across the delicate flesh of her hip to her thigh, moving the blanket down a little more as I slipped my hand in between her legs to nudge them apart. Her pussy was so very perfect, wet and tight and trembling. I licked my lips and lowered my head.

“Bran—” she gasped at the first touch of my tongue. “Oh, my… oh…”

Fuck, she tasted amazing. I swept my tongue deep inside her and sucked hard at her clit. Sophie’s fingers wound through my hair as her hips jerked and then began to move rhythmically under my mouth. I could feel it building inside her, the wildness that implored to be unleashed.

Quiet moans became not-so-quiet cries as I pressed two fingers inside her to tease her towards the edge. Stroking her hot wet center, I licked and fingered her, laving hard with my tongue, closing my lips over the swollen flesh to pull gently. Her legs spread wide open as she pulled at my hair, as she writhed beneath my lips. It was exquisite. Delicious. And she looked so very sexy, almost magical, in the pale neon light.

“Oh God,” she cried in a broken breath. Her body tensed and her muscles grew tight, then she completely lost control as waves of wracking jolts ripped through her.

I brought her down slowly, dipping my tongue deep inside her to savor the nectar of her release. To explore her silky folds and coax her back to the here and now. One of my hands moved up to her breast, to knead the milky white flesh and tease her hardened nipple, and she grasped that arm to urge me up over her.

“God, I need you inside me,” she whispered as I lifted and covered her quivering body with my own.

“Fuck, Sophie,” I groaned, “I don’t think I have another condom.”

“Jacket,” she panted, “I grabbed one when I went in my room to get my shoes. It’s in my jacket pocket.”

“Jesus,” I gasped, “you were hoping to fuck me, weren’t you?”

“Yes,” she frantically whispered as her lips lifted to mine.

She kissed me hard, moaning when she tasted her own essence in my mouth. Her legs wrapped tightly around mine, rubbing her wet little pussy against my cock while she licked and savored the flavor of her lust. Every moan and sigh, every brush of her tongue had my balls swelling and aching until it felt like they were about to burst.

With concerted effort, I pulled my head back and leaned over to the pile of clothes beside the couch, desperately searching for her jacket. As soon as my hands closed over the fabric and began pulling it closer, Sophie was ripping it out of my hands, frantically digging through the pockets to retrieve the small foil wrapper. She tossed the jacket back to the floor as she tore the package open with her teeth, wasting no time at all, her movements frenzied with need.

And then, in seconds, I was buried inside her again. Sophie’s head fell back against the pillows with a delirious sigh. Her inner muscles squeezed me almost painfully, such an incredibly exquisite, breathtaking pain. Her nails dug into the skin low on my back, clawing for purchase.

It was pure fucking bliss.

I slammed into her and held it, grinding my hips against hers to pull a sharp cry from her lips. I pulled her thigh up against my ribs and pressed even harder against her, deeper than I’d ever been inside any woman. I felt the grip of her pussy as my dick throbbed along with the beat of her heart. My lips found hers, desperate for another kiss, raging with the urgency to taste her and swallow her and be totally one with her.

Her hips tweaked, and she gasped against my lips as I began to move. Her body was truly molten around mine, clutching me to her with everything she had. Our fathomless, hot kisses were interrupted over and over by her sharp cries as I slammed into her, harder and faster and deeper. I needed to come, craving that salvation, dying to pour myself inside her in absolution.

I couldn’t give in to the phenomenal torment, though. Not yet. I had to keep going. I had to keep the burn inside me, to force away the peaking sensation as I held down her hips and drove into her again and again.

But then she tilted ever so slightly, and my movements began to hit against her clit. In a second she was flying apart around me, sobbing and shaking. And the way she pulsed around me, the breathless cries and the pure bliss on her face, I couldn’t hold back the tide any more than I could have stopped my heart from beating.

So I let go. Of everything.

And, as I came to, I wondered how I would ever recover from Sophie Buchanan.

I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Everything reminded me of her, and thinking of her generally involved her naked and panting, which generally left me aching for her touch. Throbbing and stiff.

And, like that wasn’t bad enough, it was like, the harder my dick got, the softer my heart became. I was turning into a complete douche over Sophie. I obsessed over her all day, practically counting the minutes until I got to see her again.

Four o'clock.

Two hours away and it seemed like an eternity. When I dropped her off at home last night, I’d offered to take her to Drew’s shop today. There was some kind of Native American art exhibit she had to attend with her parents first, but figured she could be back to her apartment by four.

But time was crawling by. By two, I found myself looking up the art show on the computer in my office. I should have been finishing up the car I had to get done, but, like a besotted moron, I just wanted to see where she was. What she’d be doing.

The exhibit itself actually looked pretty damn cool. A group of Blackfeet Indian artists, one of whom created masterpieces out of car parts. It hadn’t really occurred to me that I’d be interested, but the sculptures were outstanding. Cody stepped up behind me, wiping his hands on a cloth as he spoke.

“Hey,” he said as he nodded towards the monitor, “those are like the sculptures on the Blackfeet Rez.”

“The artist is doing a show in town that starts today,” I replied, not looking at him. But also eternally grateful that the exhibit wasn’t full of massive, flowery paintings or some other thing that was totally off my radar. I’d never hear the end of it. Car parts, though… I still had my balls looking at car parts.

“They’re pretty cool, really,” Cody mused. “I like to try and figure out what the parts are from. If you’ve never seen them, you should check it out.”

“I dunno, man. I’ve got to get that Buick back together.”

“Well, I can’t really go farther on the Ford until the parts come in,” he offered. “I was actually coming in here to tell you that, to see if there was something else I should be doing for while I wait. I don’t really want to you to fire me.” With a laugh, he shrugged. “Besides, you’ve got all the shitty parts done. Putting it back together is easy.”

I didn’t see her there at first, so I just wandered around and perused the various sculptures depicting the proud Blackfeet people. Interestingly enough, I wasn’t the only greasy, gearhead at the show. I recognized a couple guys from around town who were into their American muscle cars and redneck trucks. It seemed a little strange seeing them intermingling with the more elite sect.

I was, admittedly, greasier than some. I hadn’t changed from the shop, and I sort of imagined that I looked like I was scrounging through the sculptures like one would in a junkyard, searching for that elusive part to make a motor hum.

As I stood admiring one piece, a young warrior on his horse, I heard the unmistakable highbrow voice of Sophie’s mother not far away from me in the crowd.

“Oh dear,” she said. Her haughty voice sounded as though her nose was pointed straight up in the air. “These are very… interesting. But art?”

“Art can be anything, mother,” Sophie sighed.

I fought the almost painful urge to turn and look when I heard her, but I figured I needed to be just a touch more sneaky to avoid a scene. Everything I knew about her mother told me that I wouldn’t be well-received.

“Art is in the eye of the beholder,” her mother sneered, “but this is garbage. These are made out of pure wreckage.”

“Sophie,” her father said sternly, “you were with your mother in the Louvre. You know this isn’t remotely art.”

“No amount of training seems to improve your taste, Sophie,” her mother muttered under her breath.

A great part of me wanted to play hero again, to turn around and tell her mom to fuck off. To tell her dad what a dick he was. But, unlike when I was able to chase Richard away, her parents were a different story.

They were fuckers, but they were still her parents, and it had been drummed into me from a young age to show respect for my elders. So, instead of putting Sophie in the middle of a crap situation, I stepped away from the piece I was viewing to wind my way through the crowd a little. I crossed to the other side of the room where I could maybe catch her eye from a distance.

The first glance of her, as always, sort of took my breath away. Her hair was swept back from her face to fall in soft curls down her back. She wore a simple black dress that hugged her curves and almost dipped off her shoulders. Like the slightest tug could pull it down her body to reveal the ivory skin beneath it.

As her parents continued to berate her for finding beauty in the artwork around her, Sophie exhaled deeply and began to scan the room. Her eyes wandered from one piece to the next as she nodded occasionally in response to something one of her parents said. Her eyes finally came to me, widening as I winked at her through a large piece in the middle of the room. The barest hint of a smile touched her lips as she stepped closer to the sculpture under the guise of studying the intricate twists and coils of metal. Yet her eyes kept coming back to mine. I took a step to one side, and she stepped the opposite way, setting up a slow and seductive chase around the sculpture.

It was like a game that only the two of us were aware of.

We continued the secretive cat and mouse as Sophie’s parents wandered off into another wing of the exhibition, a long hallway full of paintings depicting reservation lands along the Rocky Mountain Front. Seeing them step out of sight, Sophie raised her eyebrow and nodded towards another hallway off to the other side of the room. Leaving our little game, she turned and casually wandered through the doorway and out of sight.

And I followed.

The hallway appeared empty by the time I made my way through the crowd. It was long, but there were a number of doorways set back in alcoves from the main corridor. I wondered for a moment if she’d gone into one of the rooms, and then I saw a faint flash of blonde hair and blue-green eyes peeking around a corner at me.

She smiled shyly at me when I finally stood in front of her.

“What are you doing here?” she asked with a sparkle in her eyes that rivaled the diamond necklace that encircled her neck.

“I looked it up on the web and thought it sounded like an interesting exhibition,” I grinned. “Car parts, you know. I’m a mechanic. It’s a natural fit.”

Sophie giggled. “My parents are horrified by the sculptures. They feel like it is just so primitive.”

“I heard. I wasn’t standing too far from you when your mom started in. I sorta wanted to tell her to fuck off.”

“Well,” she chuckled, “thank you for not doing that. I’m not sure I’d want to deal with the aftermath.”

“That’s the only reason I didn’t, Soph,” I said as I took a step closer.

She dropped her eyes to her hands as she twisted her fingers nervously, then licked her lips as she glanced back up at me. Her voice was a little shaky when she spoke. “So, you’re really just here to see the sculptures?” A faint glimmer of hope lit her eyes.

I looked at her for a minute, mulling over my response. Fuck no, was the first thought I had. Right on the tip of my tongue, and it was all I could do to hold it back. I was there one-hundred percent to see her, but that may have sounded a bit desperate. I sure as fuck wasn’t desperate.

But I was honest.

“In all reality, Soph,” I slowly answered, holding her eyes with my own, “the car parts thing was kind of a bonus. I’m not here for the art. Not really.”

She relaxed a little, a smile touching her lips, yet the air filled with a whole new tension. A warmth and a vibrancy. Remembrance of what had passed between us before. I stepped a little closer to her as she leaned against the wall, placing my hands on either side of her head, just above her shoulders. I wanted so badly to taste her lips. Just a slight dip of my head and I could, and she bit her lip in apprehension.

But just as I went in for the kill, as I was so close I could almost taste her kiss, footsteps echoed down the hall. Footsteps coming our direction with a long, determined stride. Sophie’s eyes widened, and she quickly ducked under my arm to step back into the hall.

“There you are,” her dad berated. “What are you thinking just taking off like—” His voice cut short as he caught sight of me in the alcove, and he paused and eyed me suspiciously. “Sophie, go back to your mother.”

Sophie quickly looked over at me, her entire affect changed from a few moments before. Where her eyes had been sparkling, the light seemed to fade clean away. And once again, the odd dynamic of this family struck me as she tried to speak.

“But I—” she breathed.

“I said,” he repeated firmly as he turned a hardened glare in her direction, “go back to your mother. Now.”

Sophie dropped her gaze to the floor, and stepped away. She shot a quick apologetic glance back at me, then hurried back to the main hall. Her dad took a step towards me, his voice cutting with a sharp steely edge.

“I don’t know who you are, boy,” he warned, “but she’s not for you.”

“With all due respect, sir,” I replied, subconsciously puffing out my chest, “you don’t know anything about me.” I tried to remain calm, to try and see, for Sophie, if I could smooth things out a little. Yet I was insulted by his instant judgment that found me lacking,

He shook his head as he took in my grease-smeared clothing. “I can see everything I need to know, and she’s not for you.”

“Don’t you think that is kind of for her to decide?” I asked with a scowl.

“No,” he replied coldly, “I don’t.”

“She’s an adult. She can make her own decisions, even if she is your daughter.”

“You’ve got one part of that right, boy. She is my daughter. Mine.” He pointed down the hallway where Sophie had gone. “I’ve invested a lot of money to ensure that she bleeds blue. Polishing her like a diamond, making her every man’s dream. From the minute I knew she was a girl, I’ve been prepping her for someone much greater than you.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Like that jerk who cheated on her?” I growled. “Do you honestly think she’ll be happy with him?”

“And you think she’d be happy with you?” He looked down his nose at me in a horribly aristocratic manner. “What can you possibly offer her? She’s a socialite, boy. She’s born and bred for the upper class. Happiness for her is lavish parties and a platinum card. So keep your grubby hands off her.”

With that, he turned and strode purposefully down the hall without even looking back. And I stood there wondering what the hell to think. It wasn’t like I was in love with Sophie. It was fair to say I more than liked her. And, fuck me, I wanted her. I had for a long time. But enough to put up with that jackass? If I had half a brain in my head, I’d never give her a second thought.

But then a couple quick images crossed my mind. The smile when she had first seen me there today, just a hint of it on her lips, but the light of it that glowed in her eyes. The fragile tone of her voice when she asked me if I’d only come for the art. And the way the life faded right out of her when her father showed up.

I really couldn’t help myself. So I hung out a little longer, checking out the rest of the exhibit. Killing time, really, until a quarter to three. Then I jumped in my Cougar and drove to Sophie’s apartment.

Because I wanted to light her up again.

“Do or die, right?” Sophie asked as I held open the door to Drew’s shop for her a short time later.

I looked her way to see that she’d fixed her gaze on my neck tat. Focusing on it to build her confidence.

“You want to do this, right?” I asked. “He might not even be able to do it today. We can always make an appointment regardless and give you a little time to think it over.”

“No, I want to. I’m just…” she took a deep breath and stepped into the shop.

At the front counter sat who I assumed was the new piercing girl Drew had hired. Her name was Raven or some shit, and her jet black hair had a bright bluish tint when the light hit it. She had eyebrow piercings and a lip piercing. Judging by the slightly bumpy appearance of her tits under a super tight tank top, her nipples were pierced, as well.

“Well, hi,” she greeted Sophie with a broad smile, seeming to recognize her.

“Hi,” Sophie said back, “Raven, right?”

“Yeah,” Raven grinned. “Sure enough. What can I do for you? Are you having trouble with your piercing?”

Raven kept peeking up at me, sort of looking back and forth as though she couldn’t quite figure out what this fuckhot-but-obviously-upscale piece was doing here with me in my greasy shop clothes.

“Is Drew here?” I asked. “She’s interested in getting a tattoo.”

“He’s in back with a customer,” Raven said, “but I could take a message and give it to him when he’s done.”

“Just tell him Brannon’s here,” I said, and her eyes opened a little wider.

“Oh, you’re Brannon,” she purred. “I’ve heard of you.”

Obvious come-on. I got this shit all the time. Whenever I met someone who knew the band very well, they’d heard of me. My exploits were sort of legendary, I suppose.

Although right at the moment, standing here by Sophie, Raven’s sudden shift in attention sort of bothered me a little. I was a man-ho, but I wasn’t such a huge man-ho that I’d let a girl totally hit on me when I was with another girl. Not that I was actually ever really with another girl. So this was just a bit east of awkward.

And Sophie clearly felt uncomfortable by the clear flirting, so I squashed it in the bud by slipping my hand around Sophie’s waist and pulling her close up against me.

“Yeah, and I’m here with Sophie,” I said, “because she wants some ink. So could you let Drew know?”

Duly chastised, Raven seemed to catch my drift. “Of course,” she murmured, “just a sec. I’ll go tell him.”

She slipped through the doorway to go back and get Drew.

“Sorry about that,” I grumbled to Sophie.

“It’s okay, Bran,” she said as she stepped away to flip through a book of designs on the counter. “You’ve got a reputation to uphold. Besides, it isn’t like I’m your girlfriend or something.”

I didn’t like how that set with me. I really didn’t want a girlfriend, yet I really did want Sophie. I should have been ecstatic that she just sorta gave me a green light on casual fucking. What guy wouldn’t want her hot little body to hit now and then? And to have that and still keep the whole swingin’ single dude thing going should have been a dream come true.

Yet, the way she said it sounded kind of like it wouldn’t bug her if I fucked around with Raven. Or anyone else. And that bothered me more than I wanted to admit.

“Still,” I said, “it wasn’t very classy of her to hit on me while I’m obviously here with you.”

Sophie stopped turning pages and looked up at me. I couldn’t tell what she was thinking, but something was churning in her head, veiled behind those stunning blue-green eyes. Then one side of her mouth lifted in a small, sweet smirk that kind of had my dick twitching in my jeans.

Right as she was getting ready to speak, Drew’s voice sounded from the hallway as he came through the door.

“Brannon, dude,” he said, “stay the fuck away from my piercer. She’s not gonna pierce your junk—” Then his eyes hit Sophie and he sort of stopped short. “Oh, shit. Hey, um…”

“Sophie,” I said, supplying her name since he’d clearly drawn a blank.

“Sophie,” he murmured, “right.” He glanced at me, still seeming a bit shocked. “Dude, this is the chick you had at Perkins the other night.”

“Yeah, you fucker,” I scowled, “and she can hear you. She’s standing right here.”

That jolted him back into reality a little. He looked back at Sophie with a hopelessly pathetic smile. “Sorry,” he said to her. “I’m just not really used to… well, he…”

“Just shut the fuck up, man, and start talking about why we’re here.”

Drew’s blank expression remained. “Why are you here?”

“Didn’t Raven tell you? Sophie wants to get a tat.”

“Oh, shit. Sorry,” Drew sputtered, “she just came back and said something about wanting to pierce your junk. She seemed kind of interested, and that pissed me off because you fucked my last—” He stopped short. “Shit. Nothing. Never mind. I just, well, she’s a great piercer and I want her to stick around, so I… well…”

Sophie’s eyes had gone wide as she turned towards me. “Pierce your junk?”

“He’s talked about it before,” Drew offered, “but I keep telling him that he’d have to give it a rest to let it heal and, knowing him—”

“Drew,” I growled. “Can we just talk about the tat?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Let’s do that.”

He focused on Sophie who had her flushed gaze fixed on my face. Evidently, the thought of a piercing had her mind whirling. Fuck, how long would it take to heal? And could I keep my hands off her that long? I already wanted to nail her again, and it had only been a few hours.

“So, Sophie,” Drew said, breaking that connection between her eyes and mine, “what are you thinking? Did you want to make an appointment? Do you have something in mind?”

“Well, I know it’s last minute and all,” she started, a bit breathless, “but would you be able to do it today? I know exactly what I want.”

“I think so.” He grabbed an appointment book from the counter and traced his finger down the page. “I’m about done with this guy and, yeah, it doesn’t look like I have anyone after him.” He glanced back up at her. “I’m not sure if we’d have time, though. Sort of depends on what you want.”

Sophie reached for my hand, the one with the tat on my wrist, and nudged me to set it on the counter. “I want something like this, but—”

“You guys want matching ink?” Drew murmured with a raised eyebrow and a hint of an incredulous smile. “How long have you known each other?”

“Not matching, really,” Sophie laughed nervously. “It’s not like we’re…” Her voice trailed off as she glanced up at me quickly, clearing her throat before she looked back down to trace the lines on my wrist. “I want something that is kind of this idea, but more rounded. Like the whole thing is the shape of a heart. And more curly than sharp and jagged.” She bit her lip and peered up at Drew to study his reaction. “And I want Kermit in the middle.”

“Okay,” Drew nodded. His mood had shifted from bewildered and amused (most likely by the thought of me and some chick having matching tattoos) to artist mode. Like he was seeing her vision. He really was good at this shit, and he grabbed a sheet of paper and a drafting pencil to quickly do a rough sketch. Sophie and I watched as the image began to take shape. “I’m guessing you want Kermit in color, but the rest is just black. Where do you want it?”

“Well,” Sophie said, and she tugged her shirt up a touch to reveal the exquisitely smooth skin of her stomach. As she spoke, she also pushed the low rise of her jeans down a little. There was that hip bone that I’d nipped and tasted.

My mouth watered and my dick stiffened.

But Drew was all business. He glanced up from the drawing to see where she was pointing, and nodded. “Yeah, it would be great there. I’d recommend that you get it at least two to three inches tall so I can get some good detail in there. If it’s your first, my guess is that you don’t want it huge, right?”

“Yeah,” Sophie nodded, “not gargantuan or anything.”

“Okay, it will take a little over and hour and a half. Maybe two hours, tops. I could do it tonight if you want to hang out for a little bit.”

Sophie smiled up at me. “Sounds great to me, but you brought me here. Do you mind waiting around?”

Not at all.

About forty-five minutes later, Sophie lay back in a chair, her jeans unbuttoned and pulled down just enough to reveal her hip. And it was giving me one hell of a chub.

“Does it hurt?” she asked.

“Just a little,” I replied, “but not bad.”

“This spot can be kind of tender,” Drew explained with a grin, “but there’re a lot of worse places you can get it done.”

At the first touch of the needle, Sophie’s body stiffened slightly, and her fingers gripped my arm. Her eyes closed and she took a deep calming breath.

“You okay?” I asked softly.

“Yeah,” she murmured with a terse tone, “just getting used to it, that’s all.”

I brushed the hair back from her eyes, and she looked up at me, studying me as Drew worked on the dark lines of the heart and the outline of Kermit in the center. Focusing on my face seemed to settle her, to draw her attention away from the discomfort. Occasionally, a sharp jab would catch her off guard, and I’d quickly lower my lips to her forehead to kiss away the pain.

Somewhere, after the outline was done and Drew started to fill in the color, Sophie’s eyes began to grow dark. Like the heat was starting to rush through her, like the prickling pain was an aphrodisiac. Her breathing became shallow, her pulse began to beat. My hands shook when a breathy gasp escaped her lips, and I felt her body lean up into my touch.

The expressions that crossed her face had my body pulsing with need, hard as stone, aching and throbbing. I had seen similar looks on her before, in the pale light of the neon beer sign when I was buried balls deep. It seemed like the small sounds that left her throat were echoes of our passion. The sharp intake of breath. The small whimpering sigh.

By the time Drew had finished, I was sweating. I was painfully hard. I was pretty sure I was going to explode.

“Okay,” Drew said, setting the tattoo gun aside and holding a mirror to Sophie so she could get a good look. “What do you think?”

Low on her hip, following the curve of her body, was a slightly smaller, more rounded version of the tattoo on my wrist. The entire outer part curved more into the shape of the heart, and the dark jagged lines swirled and curled a touch, appearing slightly softer and more feminine. And right there in the middle of the heart sat a perfect little Kermit the Frog.

Sophie smiled wide. “I love it,” she whispered. “Oh my gosh, I love it.”

Her sparkling eyes rose to meet mine, and she lifted her head to place a quick kiss on my lips before settling back again to look back into the mirror.

Drew placed a piece of clear plastic over it and taped it down with athletic tape. “Leave this on for a couple hours, then take it off before you go to bed tonight.” He sat back on his rolling stool, reaching back for a piece of paper on the counter that he handed to Sophie. “Use cold water to wash it,” he explained, pointing here and there on the instruction sheet, “and a liquid antibacterial soap, but just very gently with your fingers. When you’re done, carefully pat it dry and spread a very fine layer of A&D cream or something on it. Nothing petroleum-based.”

Sophie nodded as he spoke.

“You shouldn’t use a bandage because it has to breathe, and wear kind of loose clothing for a good week or so. Also,” Drew winked, “you have to be very careful to keep it clean, so you will want to maybe try an alternative position or put something over it when you two are getting busy.”

Her eyes went wide at Drew’s off-handed comment, and I couldn’t help but laugh as the phone began to ring in the other room.

Drew glanced at the clock. It was just after six-thirty. “Shit,” he said getting up and heading out of the room, “I think Raven went home, so I should probably answer that.”

Sophie, face flushed but eyes hot and needy, looked up at me once he'd left the small room. The air suddenly seemed heated as I watched her hungrily.

“I think I need a little more information about these other positions,” she murmured, biting her lip.

“Oh yeah?” I smiled.

Sophie leaned up on her elbows, bringing her mouth within an inch of mine. “Yeah, because something about this has me so hot right now. But I don’t want to mess up my ink.” She lightly kissed me and then whispered against my lips. “So maybe you could just fuck me from behind.”

“Jesus,” I gasped. “I’ve never heard you say fuck before, and that was really fucking hot.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever said fuck before,” Sophie giggled. “I feel kind of… naughty all of a sudden.”

“I want to hear you say it more,” I growled as I caught her face in my hands and kissed her hard. “I want to hear you moan and scream it when I’m deep inside you.”

Sophie’s breath caught in her throat, and then came back in a rush. “Take me somewhere, Brannon. Right now. I’m going to die if you don’t touch me soon.”

My hand lay low on her stomach, just a touch away from being in her open pants. Upon hearing her ragged whisper, I slipped down farther dipping into the wetness between her thighs. Sophie gasped and I gave her another quick, hard kiss.

“Shh,” I whispered against her lips, “Drew is right outside that open door. I want to see if I can make you come before he gets back.” Her eyes flew open and looked up at me as I trailed some of her wetness up to spread it around her clit. Praying that Drew would get sidetracked and not come right back, I added a little pressure and circled her sensitive bud with my thumb. At the same time, I hooked my finger inside her and rubbed that sweet spot that made her squirm and whimper.

And then I heard footsteps in the hall.

“Fuck,” I muttered as I pulled my hand away.

“No,” she quietly moaned, and I caught her cry with my mouth, kissing her deeply.

Drew’s footsteps stopped at the open door, and his voice was full of laughter as he spoke. “Do you guys need a few minutes? I can come back.”

I lifted my head to look down at Sophie’s sensual gaze and almost told him yes. Fuck yes, actually.

Except I wanted her completely naked, sprawled out in my bed. I wanted her to scream and swear and scratch at me when I rode her hard and fierce.

“Are you ready to go?” I asked her.

Sophie nodded, exhaling a labored breath. “Please,” she whispered. “Take me somewhere. Take me anywhere.”

It took me no more than fifteen minutes to get her back to my apartment, another one and a half to get her completely naked, and within another minute, she was on my lap rocking over my dick while she leaned back against my chest. Her legs spread wide as I fingered her clit and grunted into her ear.

“How’s that, Soph? How does my cock feel?”

“Oh God, Brannon,” she gasped and ground down against me. The tight squeeze of her pussy made me wild, and I bit down on her shoulder, causing her to cry out and move faster. She began to shake and sob. For a second she froze, and then screamed.

“Fuck!”

“Oh, Christ, Sophie,” I growled and grasped her hips, lifting and slamming her down hard onto me as she cried out. I felt the flood of release build up, my balls tight and aching, and then it all poured out of me with a harsh, throaty groan.

Sophie limply eased back against me, her face turned into my neck, my heavy breathing ruffling her soft, sweet-smelling bangs. My eyes focused on her bare breasts, rising and falling with our combined exertion, and my fingertips trailed up her stomach to curve around the swells of flesh. Our ragged breathing filled the room, and my heart felt like it was going to leap right out of my chest. I don’t know that I’d ever come that hard, and my brain function was slow to return.

I felt the light touch of Sophie’s fingers comb through my hair, and felt her whisper against my skin.

“I think I want another tattoo.”

I burst into laughter, holding her tightly against me as she lost herself in a fit of giggles. “Fuck, Sophie,” I breathed, wiping tears of amusement from my eyes, “you’re gonna kill me.”

I led Sophie, naked and still giggling, towards the bathroom where I slipped off the condom and tossed it in the trash. I leaned down to check her tat, and the plastic still covered it, undisturbed. Handing her a flannel shirt that hung from a hook in my bathroom, I reached for a pair of basketball shorts and slipped them on. Sophie was just finishing doing up the buttons as I looked back up, appearing even sexier than she had a few minutes ago. If that was even possible.

Then my stomach growled loud and strong, and she dissolved into another fit of laughter.

I turned her towards the bathroom door and guided her back out to the hallway. “Let’s go see what I’ve got to eat,” I chuckled as I swatted her lightly on the ass. “You keep jumping my bones, I’m going to need food to get my strength up.”

“I know how to cook a little,” she said shyly. “I’ve not had a lot of practice, but I had to take home ec as a requirement in high school.”

“I can actually cook quite a bit, baby,” I grinned, “so don’t worry about it. I’m just not sure what all I’ve got to make.”

I looked through the fridge, but didn’t see a whole lot since I didn’t eat at home much. More condiments than anything. But, digging through the freezer, I found some frozen cauliflower and a couple tilapia fillets, then rummaged back through the fridge to grab the parmesan, butter, and mayonnaise.

“Have a seat,” I smiled back at Sophie. “I’ve got something awesome I can make that only takes a few minutes.”

She perched on one of the stools at my counter, prim as could be in my flannel shirt, one smooth, bare leg crossed over the other as she watched me go to work. With the oven heating, I mixed the parmesan and mayo, spreading it over the fish while the cauliflower steamed in the microwave. I placed the fish under the broiler, stirred and buttered the cauliflower, and, in no time at all, had a plate for each of us.

“Oh wow,” Sophie exclaimed when she took a bite of the tilapia, “this is really good.”

“I like it because it’s easy.”

“But it’s really, really good. I think I want you to cook for me every day,” she grinned as she popped a piece of cauliflower into her mouth.

I gave her a quick kiss on the lips as she chewed. “Anytime, Soph.”

Everything felt so damn easy. So right. I wasn’t the type of guy to do shit like this. To cook for a chick, even if it wasn’t much. To have a girl stick around after sex. I generally wanted them out the door pretty quick, if I even brought them back to my place at all, which was a very rare occurrence in itself. But there was just something about Sophie that made me think I could get used to this.

And that sort of sent an apprehensive ripple through my gut.

I never even asked her if she wanted to go home. I think I was maybe a little afraid that she’d say yes, so I just sort of held her hostage, naked except for my flannel shirt, tucked against my side as we watched Underworld. Sophie was enthralled by the story, the sexy undertones, the black leather outfit that Kate Beckinsale wore (which tended to enthrall me a fair amount, too). By the end, though, her eyes were drooping and she gave a long yawn that I felt through her whole body. Her eyes drifted closed once, then again as the credits began to roll.

“You’re staying, right, Soph?” I quietly asked.

She languidly looked up at me, studying me for a minute before she nodded. “If you’ll let me.”

If I’d let her? For fuck’s sake, here I'd been weighing the pros and cons of kidnapping her if she said no.

“Lift up for a sec,” I said, and she sat up, shivering as she left the warmth of my bare chest. I pulled her to a stand, and led her to the bathroom where I peeled away the plastic covering her tattoo. Kneeling before her, I gently washed the inked skin in cool water, patted it dry, and reached for the A&D cream.

“It’s nice that you’re prepared,” she smiled down at me.

“Been there, done that,” I smiled as I put a thin layer of cream over her ink and gently soothed it in. “I’ve got the tattoo aftercare thing pretty well down.”

Her fingers brushed through my tousled hair, a tender gesture that made me feel protective and horned up all at once, and I placed a soft kiss beside the tat.

“There you go,” I said, rising back up to my full height and looking down at her tender expression, “that’s all there is to it.”

Sophie leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss me, just a feather-light brush of her lips on mine.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

I reached into the top drawer by my sink and pulled out a new toothbrush, a spare I’d gotten from the dentist not long after that first night we’d spent together. It had been a while back, shortly after that first party, and my head had been swirling with thoughts of Sophie. Telling myself that I was not doing exactly what I was doing, I had picked a blue-green color because it reminded me of her eyes.

Pulling the brush from the packaging, I handed it to her and grabbed the tube of toothpaste. For a second, Sophie hesitated before taking the brush from my hand. A silent question reflected in her eyes as she looked up at me.

“It’s an extra,” I said with a nonchalant smile. “Got it at my last dental check-up appointment. Not sure if you’re the same way, but I hate having grungy teeth.”

“Thank you,” she murmured in response as I grabbed my own toothbrush and started brushing.

It was weirdly domestic, standing there with her at the bathroom sink. Freakishly comfortable, and I pushed that sensation to the back of my mind. Examining this too closely would not be a good idea.

Finally, I led her back to my room, to my not-so-fancy-but-really-fucking-comfortable bed, and tucked her in between the dark blue flannel sheets. A quick turn around the apartment to turn off the lights, and I joined her, pulling her tight against me and burying my face in the sweet smell of her long, blonde hair.

“I got a job!” Sophie squealed into the phone as I stepped into the office of my shop and closed the door behind me. I didn’t need Cody listening in and giving me shit about talking to a chick on the phone. He was already kind of looking at me weird since I’d suddenly lain off the constant pussy hunt.

And I didn’t really want to have to fire him again this week.

“A job? Why did you do that?” I laughed. “I didn’t even know you were looking for one.”

“This is all part of the new me. I’m trying to be self-sufficient and not rely on my parents and their money so much,” Sophie explained, talking a mile a minute in her excitement. “Anyway, today I stopped by Lily’s salon. She was in the middle of chewing out her receptionist for skipping out of work. She hadn’t called or anything for two days, then showed up this morning like it was nothing. Lily told her she needed to get her act together. The girl got all huffy and nasty, so Lily fired her. And I’m her receptionist now.”

“Well, that’s great, Soph.”

“Lily wants me to go out with some of her friends tonight to celebrate. I guess it’s Women’s Wednesday at Teasers and they're having male strippers or something. I've never been to see strippers before,” she laughed. “I am a little nervous, though. It’s some of the girls from the Mofo parties¸ but also a bunch of girls I don’t know.”

A week or so had passed, and things seemed oddly settled somehow. Sophie avoided her family whenever she could, usually by hiding out at my place. An unspoken arrangement that sorta worked a little too well. Sophie’s hot little body in my bed almost every night. Yet avoiding any mention of feelings or attachment.

Every guy’s dream, right?

Yet, even though we hadn’t said a word about it, something was happening between us. But it made me more than a little nervous. Right at the moment, it was tenuous and fragile.

Now she was going to be spending the evening at a strip club in Butte getting bombed with a bunch of mostly naked dudes, as well as a bunch of skanky girls who knew me entirely too well. With a sudden sense of dread piercing my gut, I wondered how many of the chicks I’d fucked in the past.

Sophie seemed nervous. Maybe she was wondering the same. Or maybe she was just genuinely feeling shy and self-conscious in general.

“You’ll be fine, Soph,” I said, doing my best to reassure my own apprehensive dread as much as hers. “Just keep my number handy and give me a call if you need me.”

“I don’t want to be bugging you all the time.”

“No bother, Sophie… ever.”

“Relax the cacks, Brannon, and quit checking your phone,” Denny laughed, looking over the pool table at me as he lined up his shot. It was Wednesday evening, and the Copperline was a bit quiet with only a few of the die-hard regulars sitting at the bar.

“Fuck off,” I replied. “I’m just a little concerned because the last I heard they were doing Jägerbombs. Sophie doesn’t have a lot of experience drinking heavy stuff.”

“Fuck, you’re acting like a mother hen,” Cody scoffed, handing me the pool cue. “Just calm the fuck down and take your shot.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, you fucker,” I muttered back as I took my shot, “or I’ll fire your ass.”

My mind was so not in the game, though, and I didn’t come remotely close to getting a single ball in the pocket. So I gave him the cue back, sat down, and checked my phone again.

Still nothing.

Should I text? Should I call? Did I sound like a needy motherfucker?

Of course I did.

At long last, my phone buzzed. Thank fuck. A text from Sophie.

Comb grynme

“What the bloody hell does that mean?” Denny asked, reading the text over my shoulder.

“I’m not entirely sure,” I replied. “But I think maybe she wants me to come get her.”

I tapped a text back to Sophie.

You okay?

The response came very, very slowly.

I m pucky. Wannf go home.

“She’s pucky?” Denny asked.

“Or pukey,” I murmured, “Dude, let me borrow your truck.”

“Go and shite. You’re the one tapping that. She gawks in your car.”

“No way, man,” Cody gasped as he walked up behind Denny, “not the Cougar.”

“Oh, for feck’s sake, Cody,” Denny scowled back at him, “don’t get your knickers in a twist. He’s not gonna let anyone puke in the Cougar.” He looked towards me once again. “Just let Lily take care of her if she’s shlossed. Sophie can gawk in her car.”

“Fuck off,” I replied gruffly. “Sophie’s not used to this type of thing. I can’t just leave her be.”

“Awe,” Justin cooed, batting his eyelashes and tipping his hand with dramatic flair, “Brannon’s turning into a girl.”

“Fuck,” Drew added in, “you should have seen him when she came to get her tat. All kissing her forehead and shit.”

“Fuck off,” I scowled back at them both.

“Jaysus,” Denny said, “snap out of it. She’s a fine bitta stuff, I’ll give you that. I’ve watched ya ride her and,” he turned and nodded to the other guys, “that bird really is right hot…”

“You fucker,” Cody spat at Denny, “you’ve watched them?”

But Denny had already turned back to me to finish telling me off.

“…but are you really gonna let her gawk in your car?”

“We don’t even know that she’s gonna puke,” I argued, reaching in my pocket for my keys as I headed to the front door.

“She just told ye she’s pukey,” Denny hollered back. “Ya whipped eejit.”

“That doesn’t mean she’s going to ralph in my car,” I shot back, then slammed the door behind me and headed ninety-to-nothing to Teasers to get a schnockered Sophie.

My first thought when I saw her was that she was totally going to ralph in my car. And that I really should have brought Denny’s truck. Too many drinks to count and she was feeling beyond woozy. She’d kicked off her heels (which sucked because they looked like they’d be really hot) and was doing her best to hold up the wall as the pulsing dance beat reverberated through the club.

“Brannon,” Lily squealed, and Sophie’s eyes popped open. Or, rather, they sort of drooped open, but kind of quickly, if that was even possible. Pauline was giggling at something, God only knew what, off to Sophie’s right, and her mouth fell open when she saw me.

“Holy shit, Brannon? Are you here to strip for us?”

I barely glanced at the other girls, about half of whom I had indeed fucked at one time or another which did nothing to settle the uneasy churning in my gut. But I paid them no mind as I stepped up to Sophie, cupping her face in my hand. She smelled like a distillery.

“Hi,” she mumbled as she leaned into my palm, her eyes easing closed. Of course, as she leaned into my palm, her whole body sort of followed suit, and she began to fall sideways.

I kind of chuckled as I caught her limp body and pulled her up against me. Her head fell heavily onto my chest, and it occurred to me that I was totally supporting her.

“Sophie, baby, you’re bombed.”

She made a small movement like she was trying to lift her head, but she didn’t make it very far.

“Jägerbombed,” she snorted into my shirt.

“You’re still a witty one, though, aren’t you?” I smiled as I hooked my arm behind her knees and lifted her up against my chest. “Okay, ladies,” I turned to Lily who stood with Pauline, Ruth, and Laura, as well as a whole little herd of short skirts that hovered around, “I'm taking Sophie home.”

“Brannon,” Lily laughed, “it’s not even eleven.”

“Yeah, Lily,” I replied, “I’m aware of that. But she’s done.”

Pauline snickered. “She’s a bit of a lightweight.”

“She drank a lot, though,” Lily said. “She was doing shots right and left. And I don’t think she ate much before we got here.”

“Well, I am so not ready to go yet,” Pauline grinned. “I’m just getting started.”

Lily nodded at me. “We’re good, Brannon,” she said. “Just take care of your girl.”

“His girl?” Ruth giggled. “Since when does Brannon have a girl? She’s not gonna be much use to you tonight. Maybe you should stay. You could get up on stage and dance to entertain us, and then we could entertain you.”

I flashed her what I hoped simply seemed like a bland smile, even though it must have shown every ounce of discomfort I was feeling at the moment. “I’ll pass, Ruth, but thanks,” I said and started towards the door.

Sophie reminded me of Jell-O as I settled her in my car and buckled her seatbelt. A hint of a moan passed through her lips when I climbed into the driver’s seat, and she curled sideways, facing me, and closed her eyes.

“Everything is moving,” she groaned.

“Did you at least have a good time?” I asked with a half a smile touching my lips.

Her eyes stayed closed, but she grinned. “It was awesome.”

She sort of dozed a little, or passed out a little, as we headed down the highway towards Ophir. As I turned off the interstate onto the two-lane road to town, the movement pulled her head to the side, and she lifted it rather suddenly.

“Oh my God,” she whispered hoarsely, “pull over, please. I’m gonna throw up.”

Fortunately, I’d slowed for the corner anyway, so I was able to quickly pull off to the side of the road as Sophie fumbled to release her seatbelt. In a flash, faster than I ever could have imagined someone as drunk as her to move, she leapt out of the passenger seat and immediately fell to her knees on the ground, retching violently. Her body shook with the heaves as she expelled the excessive amount of alcohol she had consumed that night.

I knelt on the ground behind her, pulled her back into my arms, and swept her hair back from her face. She looked positively green, even in the darkness of the night around us.

“I feel horrible,” she groaned.

“I believe it,” I replied with a rueful smile, shrugging off my jacket to cover her scantily clad body with the warmth.

“Everything is spinning,” she said quietly.

“Just lay still for a second, Soph. It’ll pass.”

She relaxed against me, tucked into my body, as we sat there in the cool autumn night on the side of the road. For a second, I thought she might be falling asleep.

“Brannon?”

“Yeah, Soph?”

“Is it weird that, as shitty as I feel, I’m also really proud of myself for getting this bombed?”

I laughed. “Yeah, baby, that’s a little weird. But I’ve been there, and I know exactly what you mean. It’s like a rite of passage or some shit.”

For a while, we just sat again in silence. A cool breeze blew across the field alongside the road, drawing the cool air off the mountains to the west, and Sophie breathed the fresh air in deeply.

“I’m sorry I ruined your evening.”

“I didn’t have a lot going on, Sophie.”

She snorted a little in derision. “I can’t imagine a guy like you was just sitting home all alone.”

“Well, no. I wasn’t sitting home all alone but—”

Sophie suddenly pushed herself up away from me and staggered to stand, weaving a little as she reached down to dust off her short little skirt. “Right,” she said quietly. “Of course you weren’t.”

“Wait a second. What does that mean?” I asked.

“You’re Brannon Forrester,” Sophie said, as if that explained everything.

“And?”

“And you’re very much in demand.”

“I’m not following you, Sophie.”

With a sigh, she turned and started walking towards my car. Or stumbling towards my car. Gingerly, since her shoes were tossed in my backseat, and the dry, rocky roadside couldn’t have felt too great on her bare feet.

“You can just give me a ride home and then go back to whatever you were doing,” she said. “Or whoever you were doing.”

“Whoa, hold on,” I gasped. “You think I was with another chick?”

“I don’t have any foolish assumptions. I know who you are. I know what you do. And even if I didn’t, I was reminded tonight. A couple times.”

There it was. Someone had gotten to her. Someone she was with tonight.

Hot with an irritation I didn’t quite understand, I grabbed her arm and pulled her around to face me. She didn’t want to look up at me. That much was evident. She seemed to be fighting back something, tears or anger, I had no idea which.

“Who was giving you shit about me tonight?” I growled.

“It doesn’t matter.” She shook her head, struggling to pull away.

“Yeah, actually it does. I don’t think Lily would say shit like that. She seems to be all gung ho on this thing we’ve got going.”

“What thing?” Her eyes flashed up to meet mine for a second. “We just fuck, really. That’s it.”

My first thought was, Bullshit. There was more to it. More to her. She had to feel it, too.

“Okay,” I ground out through clenched teeth, “so you saying ‘fuck’ was really hot when you did it the other day. Not so much now.”

“It’s true, though,” she tried to turn away again, jerking at her arm. “Everybody knows it. That’s what we do. That’s what you do.”

I hated the accusation that rang out in her voice. “Sophie—” I warned.

But she was on a roll.

“I mean look how fast you slept with me. I said two or three words, and you were all ‘let’s go.’ It didn’t take much at all to get you in bed with me.”

“No. Fuck no,” I harshly scowled as I wrestled to keep her close. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Sophie, still not looking up at me, was trying to pry my fingers off her arm. Still yanking and pulling away. And I still refused to release her.

“Oh, whatever, Brannon. I’m blonde, but I’m not an idiot. You don’t have to act like I was anything special.”

“Of course you were fucking special,” I shot back.

“Oh, please,” she scoffed. “I came up to you, asked you to go fuck, and you said yes without even asking my name.” With that, she finally managed to rip herself away from me and headed once again to my car.

“Dammit, Sophie,” I ground out in a gravelly voice, “I didn’t have to ask your fucking name. I’d already wanted you for years. I knew exactly who you were the minute you walked through the door.”

That stopped her. Frozen solid. Slowly she turned back around to face me. The starlight and the gibbous moon reflected in the tear tracks down her face. I hadn’t even realized she was crying. Even drunk off her ass, she had hidden her face and controlled her voice so well. But this little revelation of mine stunned her completely, and, for a few moments, her guard fell.

“You knew who I was?”

Her voice sounded strange. Wary. It suddenly occurred to me that maybe I shouldn’t have just said that. Because God only knew what kind of crazy, twisted shit her highly intoxicated mind was going to do with that little bit of info.

“Yes, I did.” I said cautiously as she started to back away, shaking her head. “Listen to me though. It’s not as creepy as it sounds.”

“Oh my God,” she whispered, “you knew who I was.”

I grabbed her shoulders, steadying her when she swayed against me.

“Sophie, wait. Just give me a minute to explain this.”

A small sob broke through, and the tears began to run down her face again. But I had to make her understand. I just had to.

“I first saw you years ago,” I began haltingly, choosing my words carefully to help her understand what it was that really drew me to her. “It was a wedding in the park. Cody’s older brother was part of the band that played. Cody and I were helping them set up, move equipment, shit like that.”

She stopped tugging her arm away and looked up at me with a suspicious glint in her eyes.

“You had on this deep red dress that just… God… and it looked so… fuck… with all these little sparkly things on it.”

My heart was pounding, rattling my ribs. I had been pretty sure that I was never going to tell her this. Unless, by some weird circumstance, we were old and gray sitting in little fucking rocking chairs on the front porch watching our grandkids play together. But it was kinda creepy, stalker behavior. Even I recognized that. She no doubt would, even sober. I sure as fuck didn’t want to tell her this now. Tonight. Especially since she was so schnockered.

“You were there, sitting with that dickhead boyfriend of yours.”

“Ex-boyfriend,” she corrected as though the reminder was second nature.

“Ex-boyfriend. I don’t fuckin’ care about semantics at the moment. But you… God, you looked so pristine. Untouchable. Way out of my league.” She weakly jerked away, but I refused to let her go. I shifted to hold her more firmly with one hand and traced my fingertips down the curve of her cheek with the other, brushing away the damp trails of tears. “You were so not my type… like a porcelain doll, so sad and beautiful and untouchable. I couldn’t stop looking at you, and I couldn’t figure out why.”

“I know why.” She shook her head sadly. “I was raised to get noticed.”

“It wasn’t just how you looked, although, seriously, you could bring a saint to his knees. But there was something about you. Like if I waited, you would…” The words trailed off as I tried to articulate the way she had made me feel so long ago.

“I would what?”

“Surprise me. Show me the spirit that you seemed to be hiding behind a mask of politeness and serenity.”

She bit her lip and sniffled a little, dropping her eyes down to the front of my shirt.

“A while later, Cody and I were back smoking behind the pavilion, and I saw you again. You were walking all by yourself over near the fountain. I saw the sparkles of your dress in the moonlight.”

I tipped her chin up and smiled down at her. Her tears had stopped. Her eyes were bright and her lashes all spiky from crying. But she was finally looking at me. Really looking at me.

“You were staring at the fountain, and you got this look on your face. The first real expression you showed that night. You tossed your shoes aside and pulled your long skirt up past your knees.” I could see the wheels turning in her head, could actually see her remembering. The faint moonlight caught her eyes, making them glow like gemstones. “And you stepped into the fountain. Splashed your feet around. It was nutty and goofy. And it took my breath away.”

“There was a sign on the fountain,” she quietly murmured. “It said no bathing. I thought it was kinda silly that they’d need to post that. It made me want to break their rule. That one seemed… safe, I guess.”

“Good little girl wanting to be bad.”

“Kind of a dork, really.”

“Sophie, right then and there, you had me. I had no idea who you were that night, but I wanted to know what you were thinking. I wanted to see you push your limits and laugh at the stupid little arbitrary rules all around us. I wanted you to show the world what I saw that night.” I dipped my head closer to hers, a fraction of an inch from a kiss. “And it may sound completely emasculating, but I was kind of crushed when I found out who you were because that shot my hopes all to hell.”

“Why?” she asked, her brow drawn tight.

“Because you’re Sophie Buchanan. The Brannon Forresters of the world don’t get the Sophie Buchanans.” I gave her a wry smile. “So, yeah, I knew who you were the second you walked through the door of that party… because you were the girl I’d wanted for years.”

She quickly dropped her gaze and rested her head on my chest, rested her whole body against mine. I barely heard it when she softly said my name, just a whisper in the wind.

“Brannon?”

“Yeah, Soph?”

“I don’t know what to think about this at the moment. I’m really drunk.”

I tightened my arms around her. “You can be pissed at me after you sleep it off, if you want.”

“Will you do me a favor?” she asked.

“Anything,” I promised.

She pulled back a little to look up at me. “If I don’t remember this conversation tomorrow, can we have it again?”

I smiled gently down at her and gave her a tender kiss on the tip of her nose. “Absolutely.”

She was still here with me. She wanted to be here with me, even after what I'd just told her.

Thank fuck.

The rest of the ride home was pretty uneventful. Sophie was freezing, so I convinced her to wear my jacket and I cranked the heat in the Cougar. She didn’t say much… anything really. But as we pulled back onto the road towards home, she reached over and slipped her hand into mine.

I didn’t ask if she wanted to go home. I just took her back to my place and carried her inside, completely ignoring her when she said she could walk. I dug out a couple ibuprofen and the spare toothbrush. While she brushed her teeth and washed her face, I brought her a warm flannel shirt, a pair of thick socks, and an icy cold bottle of water.

Then I stepped into the bedroom and tried really hard not to be a total creeper. Unsuccessfully, though. The reflection in the full-length mirror on my bedroom door gave me an enticing little glimpse of her beautiful little body while she changed clothes. The body that I had touched and tasted. That I fantasized about every time I closed my eyes.

She walked out of the bathroom into my bedroom, a bit shy, a lot exhausted, and still far from sober. I sat on the edge of my bed and looked up as she came closer, barely containing the groan that fought to escape when I saw her smooth, silky legs with those wool socks bunched around her ankles. I held out my hand to her, silently asking her to come closer, and she did.

My arms closed around her waist, bringing her body between my legs and guiding her to sit on one side. She let out a yawn and took a long drink of the cold water, then laid her head on my shoulder heavily. I stroked the smooth skin of her thigh, feeling her body begin to relax against me. As her weight shifted, melting into me, I set the water aside and gently pulled the blankets back to tuck her into my bed.

And then I watched her fade off to sleep, her pale skin in stark contrast against the dark blue flannel sheets and pillows. Her lashes settled dark and thick against her cheeks. She snuggled into the pillows, sighing softly with the gentle touch of my hand in her hair.

At last, my own eyelids began to grow heavy, drifting closed. Her soft, warm body called to me, so I lay down beside her and held her as all else faded away.

I woke to the sound of a miserable groan beside me. Sophie lay with her hand over her eyes in sheer anguish, barely moving but for the slight twitch of her fingers pressed against her temples.

I shifted a little, and she lowered her hand to look over at me. Rumpled and obviously not feeling anywhere near her best, she was still fucking gorgeous. Her hair poofed out in thick waves that tumbled around her shoulders. There was still a faint darkness of makeup around her eyes that she hadn’t totally removed the night before, and it made the crystalline bluish-green stand out against her pale skin.

I wasn’t sure if there would ever be a time that I didn’t want her. I could have taken her right then if she’d been up to it.

That said, she clearly wasn’t. She dropped her eyes and crept closer to me, resting her head against my chest.

“I feel awful,” she whispered.

“I’m not surprised,” I quietly replied. “I think you threw up the whole bar on the side of the road last night.”

“Oh, God,” she moaned. “I’m so sorry. I was afraid I was going to puke in your car.”

“It wouldn’t have been the first time someone puked in my car. Hell, I’ve puked in my car.”

I felt her smile grimly and began to smooth the tangles in her hair with my fingers. She lay quietly for a long time, so long I almost thought she maybe had gone back to sleep. But then she spoke again, timid and wary.

“Why did you want me?” she asked.

My hand inadvertently tensed and pulled a little harder at the knot in her hair, but she didn’t move or cry out. She was so focused on what I was going to say that I’m not sure she even noticed the tug. I could feel this was dangerous ground. I remembered the conversation last night, probably better than she did. I thought for a moment, tasting my words before allowing them to fill the darkness.

“I wanted to see what you were like inside,” I finally began. She said nothing, but I felt the movement of her lashes against my chest as I spoke. “I'm not blind. I could see how perfectly beautiful you were, but it just seemed like there was more to you. Your eyes looked so… somber. Wistful. Lonely.”

“That wedding,” Sophie began, “I suppose that’s where I got engaged. Not that I was asked then, but my mother just started talking about how much better my wedding with Richard would be. Grander. More expensive. My father and Richard joined right in, like they'd all discussed it before.” With a sad sigh, she continued. “It wasn’t official for about a year, though. We had to go through the search for the perfect diamond, then for the best jeweler to set the stone. But I eventually had a huge rock on my hand. It felt like a shackle.”

“You could have said no when he finally asked.”

She shook her head. “And do what? My parents brought me up to be a society wife. To be seen and to smile pretty while my husband gives someone a big check.” She shrugged, a rueful gesture that conveyed her helplessness. “Besides, he asked in the middle of my parents’ lavish anniversary party in front of three-hundred of their closest friends. My mom coached me how to respond. It was quite a performance, really. You should have seen it.”

“Yeah, not so sorry I missed it,” I muttered with a grim twist to my lips. I shifted a little to look down at her, but she kept her focus on my chest, not letting me in. Not letting me see where her head was at. “I saw you again a few weeks later. You were in a restaurant, sitting with your parents, another older couple, and that dickhead.”

She still didn’t look at me, but she smiled a little at that. The top few buttons of the oversized flannel shirt she wore were undone, so I ran my fingertip along the shell of her ear, down her neck, and along her collarbone to the bare skin of her shoulder that peeked out from the soft plaid.

“That other couple was probably the dickhead’s parents,” she offered. “It seems like they’re always around.”

“You didn’t seem like you were having a very good time.”

“I probably wasn’t. I was always under a microscope. Always told how important it was to be perfect so Richard and his parents would think I was worthy.” She finally looked up at me. “It was so important to my father, and therefore my mother, that the two of us would end up together. Merging Buchanan Investments with Banner Enterprises. A way to create one big company without all the complications of purchasing and paying fees and messing with stockholders and all that stuff.” She looked off to the side. “After all, I was my father’s sole heir. Richard was the same for his father.”

“Your dad could have just tailored your education to run the business,” I said, confused by the whole scenario. “Why didn’t he just plan on leaving it to you?”

“Because I’m a pretty girl. I’ve heard it all my life. My father is all about picking someone’s best attribute and expanding it. Being pretty was mine.” She frowned. “And pretty society girls don’t have a head for business. It isn’t fashionable.”

“Yet he sent you to school in Paris.”

“Yeah,” she shrugged. “I studied art. Wine. Fashion. European culture. All the things that a good little rich wife should know about. But nothing really useful.”

“That’s… archaically chauvinistic.” I muttered, and she turned her gaze back to meet mine.

“That’s my father. I was a commodity. I still am, I guess.”

“You don’t have to be,” I said hesitantly after a moment. “You don’t have to do what they expect you to do.”

“I don’t know what else I’m good for,” she replied with a rueful frown. “I’m actually terrified of working for Lily.”

“Why?”

“What if I can’t do it?” Her eyebrows lowered in consternation. “What if I suck at making appointments and mess up her checkbook? I’ve never even kept my own checkbook. I never had to. I just spent, and the money was always there.”

“Sophie,” I said, tipping her face up to look at me, “you are so much more than a pretty face.”

With that, her eyes filled with unshed tears and her lip trembled. “I don’t know that I am,” she whispered sadly. “That’s all I’ve ever been.”

“That’s all anyone maybe expected from you, but that’s not all you are.”

“How do you know?” she asked with a heart-wrenching skepticism. “You don’t know me all that well.”

“I know because I’ve seen the light in your eyes when you let yourself go. I’ve seen you reaching for something, for a full life that isn’t just passing you by. I’ve seen your kindness and your wit and your spunky sense of humor.” I kissed her lightly, barely touching my lips to hers. As I brought my head up just a touch, I caught her gaze and held it, serious and steady. “I get the feeling that you’ve been more real with me than you’ve ever been with anyone. Am I wrong?”

Her eyes showed a little fear, a faint shimmer of self-preservation. But, in the end, she shook her head slowly. “No, you’re not wrong.” She looked like she was going to continue, but instead closed her mouth and looked down for a moment, then back up at me. Her voice was the barest of whispers. “You make me feel… free.”

“You are. Sophie. You can do anything. You just need to figure out what you want.”

“My father has other ideas, and he’s all or nothing. If I went against him, what he wants… I don’t know how to do that.”

In the end, even though she didn’t say it point blank, she didn’t know how to live without the money. Her whole life was luxury. Her apartment and everything in it was top dollar, paid for by her dad. Her car. Her clothes and her entire being.

And, as much as I wished I could tell her it would all be okay, I had never had that and I sure as fuck didn’t understand that feeling. I’d had times where it was questionable if I could make the rent. My mom had scrimped and saved, but had always worried about how to feed us kids. About how to make the ends meet when there was too much month at the end of the money. We only had each other. And my grampa. And we were blue collar all the way.

We did have each other, though. There was a security in that, a mental safety net. But that type of security was a totally foreign concept to Sophie. The complete opposite of everything she knew.

And I couldn’t really offer her anything like her life, even if she did trust me to help her, and chances were pretty slim that she would. I was a two-bit man-ho. My track record with women was deplorable. I'd never had, or even wanted, more than a cheap thrill.

Not until her.

Not until Sophie.

“So, what’s up?” my sister asked over the phone. “We're having spaghetti for dinner tonight.”

“Can’t, Mira. It’s Friday. I've got plans.”

With Sophie. I was supposed to be picking her up to head to the Copperline in about an hour. But I wasn’t about to tell my sister that. She'd think it was all meaningful and shit, that I was taking a chick out. She'd blow it all out of proportion and would likely want to meet her. So what if this was a bit out of character for me? It was something about Sophie. I was still the same fucked up relationship-phobe I'd always been. Telling Mira about Sophie now would just mean explaining it later when I went back to my old ways.

“How about tomorrow?” she asked.

“Um, it’s Saturday. Busy.” I actually hoped to be balls deep in Sophie’s tight little body for most of the day tomorrow. I just couldn’t get enough of her.

“I know it’s Saturday. But you could still come for dinner,” she grumbled. “Besides, you haven’t been over in forever. Your nephews miss you.”

“I’ll never understand why you want me to spend time with them. I’m not exactly the best role model.” I spoke the truth. I’d have thought she'd want to keep them as far away as possible from a dick like me.

“Oh, whatever,” she scoffed. “You’re not as much of a badass as you think.”

“Well, I’m certainly no angel.”

“Like you have to tell me, that. You’re the little brat who used to throw my make-up in the toilet when we were kids. You’re far from an angel.” She sighed heavily. “Maybe you could come over some time during the week, then,” she suggested.

“We’ll see, Mira, okay?”

“Brannon…”

“Gotta get moving, Mira,” I said, ignoring the frustration in her voice. “I'll give you a call.”

“Brannon, is something going on?”

“Fine, Mira. Really. I've gotta go.”

I ended the call before she could start up again. We weren’t super close these days, not like right after our mom died. She had her family to look after, soccer and playdates and the fucking PTA, and I was, well… a bit more free and easy. There just wasn’t much commonality. All the same, though, few people could make me spill my guts like my sister.

But I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell her about Sophie.

More accurately, I didn’t want to look too closely at the situation I was finding myself in. If I didn’t think about it, I didn’t get nervous over the amount of time I was spending with Sophie, or even just thinking about her. I was able to gloss over the fact that I maybe sorta kinda missed her when she wasn’t in my bed at night. It was so much easier to just think of the awesomely hot sex and pretend that she wasn’t getting to me.

As I made my way across the Copperline back to Sophie, a beer in each hand, I was stopped by Vivienne. Vivienne was a couple years older than me, likely nearing thirty. She’d moved to Ophir a few years ago, looking like your typical dark-haired busty porn star. Rumor had it she’d been a well-renowned stripper in Vegas or some shit before she married some old rich guy who died and left her a shitload of money. Thus, she was pretty well-known, very well-built, and, while I had kissed her a couple times, I’d surprisingly never fucked her. She seemed to be wanting to change that, though, as she ran her fingernail down my chest towards my fly in a painfully obvious gesture.

“Hey, Brannon,” she cooed.

“Viv,” I murmured, trying to cut around her, but she grabbed onto one of my arms and pouted prettily.

“Not even a little kiss? Nothing at all?” She pressed her full breasts against me.

Fuck, me. Viv had some really nice tits. Definitely fake, but I'd have been dead not to respond a little. I was a dude, after all.

I wasn’t a complete fucker, though. I did have some morals, and it would have been pretty fucked up, even for me, to be sticking my tongue down Viv’s throat with Sophie standing just a few feet away.

“Not tonight,” I said, trying again to step away. Right then Sophie glanced up from her discussion with Lily and saw me with Viv pressed up against my arm. Her eyes traveled over Viv for a second with a perplexed frown, yet… I suddenly had a thought.

“So, Viv, not a kiss for me, but what about the girl I’m with?”

Vivienne flashed her dark eyes at me, amused, but also intrigued.

“You’re here with a girl? You’re never here with a girl. You leave with a lot of girls, but you’re never here with a girl.”

“Yeah, so I’ve heard,” I rolled my eyes. “Special occasion. She’s kinda going through a dirty bucket list, and one of the things she wants to do is to kiss another chick. I can say from experience, that you’re pretty good at it. I think you’d be a good choice for a girl-on-girl virgin. What do you say?”

Vivienne laughed, but then her laughter faded. “Wait, you’re serious.” She looked completely stunned.

“Yeah,” I looked back at Sophie, and shot her a super naughty grin. Her face showed some confusion, a little wariness, but as she saw me smiling at her, the way I was smiling at her, she flushed a little and gave me a nervous smile back.

Vivienne had about as many scruples as I did, so she shrugged and cocked her head up at me.

“That her?” she asked, nodding towards Sophie who stood out like a beacon of stunning perfection in the sea of common girls. “Why not? Sounds interesting and she’s a very pretty little thing.”

I pushed my way through the crowd back to Sophie, followed by Vivienne, and set the bottles on the high-top table beside Lily.

“Here you go,” I said, pushing them towards Lily and Pauline, “have a drink on me.”

Pauline wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like beer, Brannon,” she whined. “You know that.” I had a feeling the emphasis on the word ‘know’ was a bit for Sophie’s sake, and I wondered for a second just what kind of bullshit Pauline had been spouting. Again. I was pretty sure she was at least one of the bitches that had Sophie so riled up at me the night she had gotten hammered at Teasers. But, I had other things on my mind.

“Well, then give them to whoever might want them. I need to borrow Sophie for a minute.” I turned Sophie around by the shoulders and guided her down the hallway towards the back entrance of the bar. A quick glance showed me that Vivienne was following along behind.

Once we got outside, I turned Sophie around to face me and nodded to Viv. “So, Vivienne here sorta swings both ways,” I began.

Sophie’s confused look only grew more perplexed. “What does that mean?”

“I like boys and girls, honey,” Vivienne murmured, stepping a little closer to Sophie and I. “And Brannon here says you’re a bit… bicurious.”

“Bicurious?” Sophie breathed.

“Like maybe you want to taste test a little pussy,” Viv murmured, studying Sophie closely.

“Just a kiss, Viv,” I reminded her.

“Brannon,” Viv said with a wicked eyebrow raised, “kissing a girl isn’t at all the same without a little caress.” She took another step towards Sophie, stalking her. “Without feeling the softness of a woman’s breasts. The hot, silky folds between her legs. That’s what makes it fun.”

Sophie’s confused look had given way to something more. I felt a tremble course through her as she stared at Viv, a little bit awed by the lusciousness of the older woman’s curves that were proudly displayed in her tight, slutty dress. As she looked back up at me, I could see the trepidation. But I could also see the allure. The desire to try it. To live with everything, holding nothing back.

“Do or die?” she whispered.

“Exactly,” I replied.

“Don’t be scared, honey,” Vivienne cooed, stepping a little closer and running her fingers along Sophie’s cheek.

I stepped around Sophie to stand behind her and wrapped my arm around her waist, pulling her tightly up against me in a sheltering hold.

“You still want to?” I whispered against her ear. “You don’t have to do any more than you want. You don’t even have to kiss her. We could find someone else.” Her whole body was shaking now, and I pulled her hair aside to press a kiss against her neck. “You could pick.”

“I don’t want it to be someone you know well,” Sophie whispered, then frowned and nodded towards Viv. “Do you know her well? Have you…?” Her voice trailed off in a nervous breath.

“I’ve never fucked Vivienne, baby,” I said.

“Not for lack of my trying,” Viv murmured, and Sophie shot a look over at her. “It seemed like the stars just never aligned for us, did they, honey.” Vivienne gave me a smile that left the invitation wide open, but then turned back to look at Sophie. “But you’re such a pretty little thing. I can see why Brannon likes you.” She trailed a long, dark fingernail down from Sophie’s cheek, across her collarbone, and down to the soft swell of Sophie’s breast that rose above the low neckline of her shirt. Sophie’s breathing picked up.

“You have lovely breasts,” Viv murmured, cupping Sophie’s curves as she stepped closer to the two of us. She leaned in to whisper in Sophie’s ear. “I bet your nipples are simply delicious.”

Sophie squirmed a touch, pushing her ass back up against my dick, rubbing against me, and I couldn’t stop the faint moan that escaped my throat.

Vivienne continued to mold her hands over Sophie’s tits, massaging them gently. She kissed Sophie just below her ear, then licked her, wrenching a gasping breath. “So tasty,” she breathed against Sophie’s skin.

My hand slipped low onto Sophie’s stomach, grazing the bare skin just above the low rise of her jeans.

“Do you want her to kiss you?” I asked in a whisper.

Sophie closed her eyes and nodded. Viv heard the question, saw the response, and stepped forward, pressing Sophie hard between her and I. Her hand slid down to cup Sophie’s breast as she lowered her ruby red lips to Sophie’s soft pink ones.

I could feel the kiss through Sophie. Viv was giving it her all, maybe hoping we’d invite her back to my place for a little ménage, but this was all for Sophie. Not that I didn’t enjoy it a little myself. It was hot as fuck for me to watch, but the driving force here was letting Sophie experience all these crazy things. Vivienne’s hand slipped along the neckline of Sophie’s shirt, just barely feathering underneath it, and she tipped her head to deepen the kiss for a long moment before she brought her head back up.

“Can I see those nipples, pretty girl?”

A fraction of a sob broke free from Sophie. She turned her face into my neck. “Bran…” she hoarsely whispered.

“I’ve got you, baby,” I murmured. “Do you want her to stop? Or to keep going?”

“More,” she breathed, clutching my hand low on her stomach. My fingertips dipped into the waistline of her jeans, and Sophie shivered against me.

With my other hand, I reached one hand up to Sophie’s neckline, and slowly pulled the fabric down, baring one of Sophie’s perfect, round breasts for Viv. My other hand slid a little further into her panties, roughly cupping her mostly bare mound and lifting her against me. Her head fell back against my shoulder.

“God, she’s perfect,” Vivienne whispered. “Can I taste you, sweetheart?”

Sophie curved her arm up around my head, pulling my lips to hers. “Yes,” she said with a faint gasp that I swallowed with my kiss. She groaned deep into my throat. I cracked my eyes open to see Vivienne drawing Sophie’s tender pink nipple into her mouth, working the generous swell of flesh, then nipping at it.

Sophie’s hips began to move rhythmically against my groin, riding my hand as she kissed me. She seemed to be melting into me, away from Viv in spite of the attention the other woman was giving her. She was excited, that much was clear by the moans in her throat, but while her body reacted to Vivienne’s touch, her mind was focused on me behind her. On my hands and my lips and my painfully hard dick that I pressed against her sweet, curvy ass.

Vivienne brought her head up, rolling Sophie’s distended nipple between her thumb and forefinger as she watched Sophie writhe against me. Sophie’s body pressed down against my hand, and I gripped her hard.

With a smile, Vivienne brought her hand up to trace the curve of Sophie’s cheek, then drew Sophie’s face from mine and held her gaze for a moment. Vivienne leaned forward and touched her lips to Sophie’s again, deepening it and coaxing Sophie to respond.

Fuck, it was hot. Amazing.

Sophie kissed her back, a bit tentatively, as Viv caressed her breast and deepened the kiss. I couldn’t stop the push of my hips against Sophie’s body, a push that rocked them both a little, and Sophie pushed back, grinding against my cock with a little sigh. I leaned down to nip at the sensitive skin where her neck met her shoulder, and Sophie responded with a needy moan.

My fingertip pressed into Sophie’s wet softness, and she gasped and pulled her head back a little, her breathing coming in rapid pants. Viv tangled a hand in her hair and held her face steady while she kissed her again, hard. I felt a flush of pleasure coating my fingers and I feathered the wetness against her clit before I withdrew my hand.

The wetness of Sophie’s arousal cooled quickly in the night air as I cupped Viv’s cheek, guiding her movements slightly as she ravished Sophie’s lips. She caught the scent of Sophie’s essence, and turned to capture my fingertip, sucking it into her expert mouth. She sucked it clean, then hovered her lips over Sophie’s for a moment.

“You have a delicious pussy, little one,” she whispered, then thrust her tongue into Sophie’s mouth. I bit down on Sophie’s neck and shoved my hand back into her jeans, back to her silky, hot folds. Spreading her arousal, I brought some of it up to her clit, and Sophie bucked against me.

“Fuck, Bran,” she whimpered, ripping her mouth away from Viv’s.

Vivienne lifted her gaze and watched Sophie for a moment. Sophie’s hand had risen to tangle into my hair, urging the wildness in me to take over. Drawing out my animalistic instinct, my pure and feral need to mate.

“Open your eyes, pretty girl,” Vivienne softly ordered. Sophie stiffened slightly, as though she was remembering Viv was there, but she complied. Viv stroked the soft skin of Sophie’s cheek and she studied her features. “I think you’re all about the boy, honey,” she finally murmured, tugging Sophie’s shirt back up to cover her breast, “but keep me in mind if you ever want to try again. You’re divine.” Viv looked up to me and offered me an inviting smile. “Same goes for you, Brannon.”

Sophie turned her face back into my neck and was shaking, maybe with cold. Maybe with desperation. Maybe with shame. I couldn’t really tell. With one last look at us, Vivienne turned and headed back into the bar, and I turned Sophie to look at me. She seemed unsure, like she didn’t really know what she thought. I gathered her close, absorbing her shivers and wrapping her tightly in my arms.

“Soph,” I asked, “you okay, baby?”

She nodded against my chest. “That was… kind of weird,” she whispered into my shirt. “Like, it was kinda hot, but more when I had my eyes closed. Feeling her touch me when I was in your arms.”

“That was pretty fucking hot for me,” I whispered. “Watching her touch you and taste you, feeling your body call out to mine.”

Sophie’s head came up to look at me. “It was all you. All I could think about was you.”

I kissed her softly, shaken a bit by that. By her pull towards me even as she was being kissed and caressed by someone else. My arms tightened around her and her forehead settled back against my chest.

“And when you touched my…” her voice trailed off.

“Your wet little pussy,” I offered gruffly.

“Yeah,” she said, halfway moaning, “I don’t know that I’m… what did she call it? Bicurious?”

I nodded. “Yeah.” My voice was half a chuckle and half a groan, strangled and tight in my throat.

“Right, I don’t know that I’m that, though,” she murmured, shaking her head. “She seemed like she was a good kisser, but it was nothing at all like how I feel when I kiss you.” With that, she lifted her head and offered me a fragile smile, uncertain and timid, until I released a pent up breath and smiled back. “I like it a lot more when it’s you kissing me,” she whispered.

“Well, watching her kiss you was pretty fucking hot,” I said, touching my lips to the tip of her nose, then lowering them to hover above her lips. “But, honestly, Sophie, I like it a lot more when it’s me kissing you, too.”

So I kissed her, and she totally kissed me back. She wrapped her arms around my neck and pressed her body up against mine. She swept her tongue through my mouth and moaned down my throat. She gave me everything she hadn’t given Viv.

And I took it all.

And I took even more later as I undressed her in my bed. As I watched her sweet expression conveying the sheer pleasure my touch brought her. As I rolled her to her stomach and kissed my way down her back, lifting her hips to bring her ass up into the air.

I knelt behind her, pushing slowly into her sweet, drenched pussy and feeling her body arch against me, her face pressed against the mattress as she moaned with exquisite bliss. My fingers trailed down the curve of her spine to the cleft of her ass, brushing against her tight, puckered back entrance. Her body responded beautifully, her hips circling and beckoning me to touch her there. To dip inside.

“Has anyone ever taken your ass, Sophie?” I asked, my voice rough and harsh.

“No,” she gasped, “never.”

“Do you want me to?”

She hesitated a moment, her breathing harsh and choppy. I pressed my finger gently inside, just a little, and she arched her back.

“Yes. Please, Brannon.”

I dipped my thumb down to our joined bodies, swirling it around to gather some of the wetness, then drew it back up and entered her.

“Oh my God,” she gasped.

“You like that, baby?”

Silly question.

Sophie’s breath caught and she froze for a moment, then lifted her hips a little to entice me deeper. Her pretty little hole was tight around my thumb, and I began to slowly fuck her, both her pussy and that lovely little ass.

“More,” she whispered. “I want more.”

I could barely talk. She pulsed around my dick, and moaned as I withdrew my thumb. I swept two fingers around our connected bodies, gathering more of her natural lubrication, then pressed them both into her. She bucked against me at first, slowly rotating her hips as I moved.

“That feels so… God, I want your cock there.”

A whole new rush of blood swelled in my dick, and I almost shot my wad right there. Fuck, I loved the things that came out of her mouth when she was delirious with lust.

I withdrew from the hot squeeze of her pussy and positioned myself at her ass. “Tell me if it hurts. Tell me if you want me to stop,” I breathed, hoping like fuck that I’d be able to.

“I won’t,” she moaned. “I want you to fuck my ass.”

Christ.

I slowly started to push inside, and Sophie whimpered a bit into the mattress. “Fuck, Sophie, does it hurt?” I gasped and started to pull back.

“Just a little,” she frantically sobbed, “but it’s good. So good, oh God, don’t stop.”

“Oh Jesus, Sophie.” I began to slide inside her tight entrance again, causing Sophie’s entire body to tremble. “Fuck, baby, push against me… ahh yeah, like that.”

Her loud moan reverberated off the walls as I gently slid home, to the hilt in that space no man had been before me. For a moment, I just held it, giving her body a chance to accommodate mine. Waiting for her signal. For her to tell me she was ready for more. A moment later, there it was. A quivering tilt to her hips. And another. A soft breathy gasp as I began to move.

Looking down at her, I was completely enthralled. The round curves of her bottom that swayed against me with each thrust. The arch of her back as she circled her hips. The contrast of her white fingers twisting into the dark flannel sheets. The faint slap of our skin as I started to move faster.

The eroticism of watching my dick slide in and out of her ass.

Her panting breaths became sobs, wrenched from deep inside her. Faster and harder. Instinct took control, and the gentleness faded into an overpowering visceral need. I slammed against her with a bruising force, spurred on by her desperate cries until…

Fuck. I was coming.

No. No no no.

I wasn’t ready.

But waves of fierce pleasure coursed through me, so strong that I could see lights flashing behind my eyelids.

Sophie lay trembling underneath me. Her shivers of pleasure coaxed a few last waves of bliss from my body. Her body was still tightly wound, still aching for her own release. In a dreamlike state, a little mortified that I’d gone before her, I slipped my hand around to her clit.

A jolt of lust ripped through her as she bucked against me. My dick was still inside her, and I growled as she began to ride my hand. I pressed against her clit, firmly circling the swollen flesh. Sophie screamed and went off like a rocket, like fireworks lighting up the sky. She shook violently and sobbed beneath me as the ripples of her orgasm pulsed through her body.

As I collapsed on top of her in a daze, still buried inside her, she pulled my arm up against her soft breasts.

“Don’t let me go,” she whispered, clutching my hand in hers. “Please don’t ever let me go.”

As her soft plea echoed through my mind and into my dreams, I gripped her tighter. I wasn’t sure if her breathy words were spurred by her passionate release or a genuine, heartfelt emotion. And I was not entirely sure which I wanted more.

All I knew was that I could have lived in that moment forever.

“So,” Denny grinned as I plopped down on the couch in their practice room, “got the night off, do ya?” It was a Friday afternoon and the guys were running through their set before they headed to the Copperline.

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

He plucked at the strings on his guitar as Justin and Drew finished setting up their equipment. “I’m talking about Sophie, ya eejit. I’m actually surprised that she’s not with you. Thought you were connected at the hip these days.”

“Or the groin,” Justin laughed, followed by a badum dum from Cody on the drums.

“You’re fired,” I growled at Cody.

“You can’t just fire me every time you don’t like what I say, you know,” he laughed back.

“Uh oh,” Denny looked over at Cody with mock horror, “has Cody been a naughty boy?”

“I think Brannon just lost his sense of humor,” Cody replied. “Especially surrounding a certain little blonde hottie that he’s been spending a lot of time with. Where is she tonight, anyway? You coming to the Copperline alone for a change?”

Denny chuckled. “How will you ever fend off all the snatch without your girl there?”

“Her and Lily went to do a little shopping,” I explained, “so she said Lily could bring her out when they’re done.”

“Ah, so you don’t have the night off after all,” Denny shrugged.

“It’s not like that,” I scowled. “I actually kinda like spending time with her.”

“That’s quite a feat for her, then,” Justin grinned as he finished tuning his guitar. “I’ve never known you to like a girl that much after she’s gotten dressed.”

“Okay, leave him the fuck alone,” Drew said, coming to my rescue. “It’s going to happen to the rest of you one of these days, too, you know.”

“Whoa, hold up,” Justin argued, shaking his head, “just because it happened to you two fuckers doesn’t mean it’s going to happen to Denny or Cody. And it sure as fuck isn’t going to happen to me.” He puffed out his chest and grinned widely. “I’m just too much man for one woman. I might be able to settle down with two.”

“Fuck off, Justin,” Drew replied, “It’s not like you plan this shit. I never in a million years thought Maggie and I would end up together. Fuck, I thought she was all into you.”

“She was,” Justin laughed. “She’d have never slept with you without me there, too.”

“Maybe so,” Drew shot back, “but after taking us both for a test run, she decided she liked me better. But one of these days, Justin, that ego of yours is going to get turned on its head by a chick, and you won’t know if you’re coming or going.”

“Whatever,” Justin scoffed.

“He’s right,” Denny mused thoughtfully… almost wistfully, which seemed really weird. “None of us are immune.” We all kind of blankly looked at him for a minute as he plucked at the strings. When he looked up and saw us, there was a hint of something I’d never really seen in his eyes. In a flash, it was gone though, replaced with a teasing smile. “I mean, if the mighty Brannon Forrester, king of all man-hos, can fall, any of us can go.”

“I haven’t fallen,” I groaned. “It’s not like we’re fucking getting married or anything. And shouldn’t you guys be practicing or some shit?”

“We are, you’re right,” Denny nodded. “Okay, nobody can pick on my boy anymore. He’s feeling out of sorts without his bird around.”

“Fuck off, Denny,” I sighed as my head fell back against the couch in exasperation.

“I’m just slagging ya, Brannon,” he grinned.

“And speak English, you fucker,” I muttered.

All four Mofos laughed as they started to play, running through their set for the night. Denny tinkered with a melody he had going for a new song he was writing, but he wasn’t ready to share the words just yet.

“It’s something special for the happy couple,” he said, slanting a mischievous smile in my direction.

Awe, fuck. That didn’t sound good. God only knew what he’d written about, and I suddenly remembered back to a hazy afternoon when he and I had gotten Sophie stoned. And all that followed. And Denny writing lyrics while he watched and wanked off.

Damn.

At least the melody was gentle. Rather slow and sensual. I was especially glad it wasn’t a screamo song like he tended to write sometimes. As Cody played around with the beat and Drew and Justin wove in their own riffs, the images of that day began to filter through my mind. He’d perfectly captured the moment in a few notes on a page, and part of me couldn’t wait for Sophie to hear it.

I just hoped the lyrics were vague.

“Jesus,” I gaped, “aren’t you cold?”

“You don’t like it?” Sophie asked, looking down at her new outfit.

Oh, I liked it. Fuck yeah, I liked it.

Her hair had been straightened to fall like silk down her back. Her makeup had been darkened, smoky eyeliner thick around her brilliant blue-green eyes, and her pouty red lips were a luscious candy-apple red.

And the clothes… Good God, the clothes.

Even though it was mid-October and the nights were getting cooler, Sophie was wearing shorts. Really fucking sexy shorts that were all frayed and barely covered her ass. Lily must have had a hand in this. They’d been a little later getting there than I’d thought, but now I could see what they had been up to. I should have known, especially since Lily offered to give her a ride after work. It was like Lily’s goal in life was to dress Sophie up in ways that made me weak in the knees.

“You’re wearing shorts,” I groaned, “and that’s only like half a shirt.”

“I have a jacket on, too,” she smiled, running her fingertips down the zipper of the black leather jacket she wore, grazing the soft flesh exposed by the low-cut shirt underneath. “And these socks are really warm.”

They made me warm. Fuck, they made me hotter than hell. I actually broke into a sweat just looking at her. The ‘socks’ went up past her knees to mid-thigh, leaving a fair amount of skin between them and the faded, frayed denim. More skin showed between the low rise of her shorts and the high rise of her shirt, if that could even be called a shirt. I was pretty sure that, if she lifted her arms, her tits would pop out for all the world to see.

I loved it.

But I hated it, too, because every motherfucking asshole in the Copperline was going to be staring at her. And half the chicks.

She was really that fucking hot.

“Fucking hell, Sophie,” I said gruffly, tucking my hands under her jacket to rest at the warm bare skin of her waist, “with you looking like this, I’m gonna end up in a fight tonight.”

She bit her lip and slid her arms around my neck, pressing her body up against mine.

“I guess you’ll just have to keep me really close then,” she murmured with a sinful smile as she lightly kissed my lips and led me towards the dance floor.

As the night wore on, we stood just offstage watching the Mofos bang away at their set. Sophie leaned back against me and reached up to slide her hand around the back of my head. Standing so close to the speakers, yet just off to the side, we felt the music as much as we heard it. And Sophie seemed to really be feeling it.

I wrapped my arms around her, tucking my hands under her short little white tank to lay flat against her bare stomach, and placed a soft kiss just below her ear. With the responding nudge of her sweet, curvy ass so deliciously pressed up against my dick, I nuzzled her neck firmly and nipped at her skin with my teeth.

Sophie’s fingers wound into the hair on the back of my head and pulled, silently begging for more.

There were people all around, but all pretty much focused on the stage in front of us. On the kick-ass performance of the band. I guided Sophie a step or two back into the thick velvety curtains that had been gathered along the side of the stage. Just barely in the shadows, illuminated only by the flashing lights that pulsed to the pounding beat.

“I want to make you come, Sophie,” I growled into her ear. “Right here, right now.”

Sophie’s free hand covered one of mine at her waist. Her body shivered as she clutched it against her bare midriff, then she rubbed her bottom against my dick again and nudged my hand towards the waistband of her shorts.

“I brought a little something,” I murmured, a hint of a smile touching my lips. Unfastening the buttons of her shorts with one hand, I reached into my jacket pocket with the other for the little bullet vibe I’d picked up earlier in the day. It was cool to the touch, and Sophie shivered as I pressed it against her bare stomach and moved it down to slip it into her silky little panties.

And she let me. Right there, just barely off stage, in front of God and everyone.

“Bran—” she started, and abruptly stopped as I slid the bullet down into position against her swollen clit.

“Shh… Just relax, baby. Let me light you up.”

With a tap of my thumb, it began to vibrate.

Sophie squeaked a little at the first movements as I palmed it against her clit, using my fingers to sweep into her wetness and tickle her ever so slightly inside.

“Shh… there are people all around us, Soph,” I grunted into her ear.

I felt her excitement building as ripples of pleasure began to pulse through her body. Her head fell back against my chest, eyes closed, and she moaned a deep and throaty sound into my ear. The little movements of her body against mine were beginning to make the crotch of my jeans almost painfully tight.

“You have to be still, baby. Act natural.”

Sophie turned her head, pressing her face into my neck, right up along my tattoo. I felt the flutter of her eyelashes brush along the ink, almost a sign.

Do or Die.

Fuck yeah.

From the outside, I was doing everything I could to appear unaffected. Like I was just standing around backstage with my arms around my girl.

On the inside, though I was raging with a fierce, aching burn. It built and pulsed through me, and every squirm of her ass against my throbbing cock intensified the frenzied need.

A throaty groan escaped my lips, and I pressed them harder against the warm skin of her neck to muffle the sound, biting into the soft flesh.

The lights flashed, the guys banged out a heady, soulful song, and I brought her to the peak in the same room as a hundred other people. As her body began to shake, as her orgasm overtook her, Sophie’s knees began to give out. I held her tightly against me, taking all her weight as she exploded onto my hand. I felt the rush of her wetness, and my mouth watered to taste her. I was tempted to pull her back farther into the curtains, to throw her to the floor and bury my face between her legs until she was screaming my name.

That image alone damn near made me lose it. The only thing that stopped me was the knowledge that Sophie would likely get a shitload of flak from her folks if she ended up in jail for indecency.

I flicked off the vibe and held my hand against her for a moment longer, allowing her to float back into consciousness. My fingers moved slowly, soothing the rigid tension from her body, swirling through the soft, wet flesh.

“Fuck, I love to watch you come,” I whispered harshly in her ear.

Hidden in the curtains like we were, anyone who glanced at us would have only seen her face pressed against my neck, my arms tightly wrapped around her. Sweet and protective. But knowing it was so much more, that I had just done so much more to her and nobody around us knew any better… that had made it all the more mind-numbing.

“What about you?” Sophie breathed into my ear, catching the ring in her lips and pulling ever so slightly.

God. My dick throbbed.

I wanted inside her so badly that I could barely think. She stood a little on her own weight, pulling away a bit to turn and look up at me. As I slid my hand from her panties, I showed her the small shiny, teal-blue vibe that I’d just used on her.

“I’ll just have to settle for a quick taste,” I replied, locking onto her gaze and holding it steady as I brought the vibe to my lips and licked it.

Sophie’s tongue swept across her lower lip, and her eyes went dark and sultry while she watched me, standing on tiptoe to taste my lips as I tucked the vibe back in my jacket pocket.

“I want to taste you,” she whispered.

“God, Soph,” I growled, “don’t say that. I’m about to blow as it is.”

She pressed her body against mine, squirming to get closer, and her fingertips carefully undid the top fastened button of my shirt. Her lips trailed down my neck, sucking at my flesh, and my jaw clenched tight as I tried desperately to rein it in.

“Please,” she murmured against my flesh, “please, Bran. I want to taste you. I want to feel the slide of your cock in my mouth.”

Oh fuck. Dirty talking Sophie did it. It was all her fault. I could sort of resist sweet Sophie. It was much harder to resist passionate Sophie. But dirty talking Sophie was like fucking kryptonite on my resolve.

I grabbed her hand and pulled her behind me towards the back door to the small lot behind the bar. Towards the Cougar, parked there waiting patiently like an oasis in a fucking desert. I quickly threw open the passenger door and Sophie leapt inside, watching me with a hot gaze as I strode around to the driver side and climbed in.

She literally attacked the fly of my jeans the minute I sat down, ripping them open and freeing my dick to the chilly fall night. Her lips were so close that I could feel her ragged breathing while she stroked my length with an excruciating slow push and pull.

“I love your cock,” she whispered, and then lowered her lips.

Holy fuck.

I think I blacked out for a moment at the first hot, wet touch of her lips. She took only a little at first, swirling her tongue around the tip and moaning deep in her throat. Then she took more of me, clear to the back of her throat, sucking gently as she grasped the base and pulled it down.

It was like a religious experience. Like the rapture or some shit. My body jolted with every little swipe of her tongue and my hips thrust up into her mouth, fucking those beautiful lips.

I hit her gag reflex, and she brought her head up just a touch, panting rapidly, before inhaling deeply as she went back in for more. Like she was starving for me. I did everything I could to hold still and take it, to let her devour me until I exploded down her throat. She explored with her tongue, trailing every ridge and vein and curve of my dick. She was fascinated by it, coming up for air and then attacking it with a renewed force. My fingers wound through her long, tangled waves.

Unable to control it, I began to thrust again, and Sophie moved along with me, sliding her lips up and down on my dick, squeezing around it with her fingers as she began to move faster.

I tried to warn her I was coming, but she resisted my attempts to pull her away. Instead, she took me deeper, and the vibrations from her moan tore away the last shred of restraint I had. Sophie didn’t pull back. She didn’t turn away. She savored me, licking and softly coaxing every drop from my body.

I sort of melted into the seat as she lifted her head to look at me.

“You’re delicious,” she whispered wickedly, her lips red from the friction of what was truly a pretty fucking amazing blowjob.

My hands were still tangled in her hair, and I cupped her face and brought her lips to mine. She leaned over the small center console, deepening the kiss, and I could taste just the faintest salty tinge in her mouth. The taste of my own cum. It was erotic and powerful, and I lost myself in that kiss.

A banging on the window beside me jarred me from my Eden. The windows had fogged, so I brushed some away to see Denny and Justin grinning through at us.

“Brannon, you hoor’s melt,” Denny laughed, “if I’d have known you were going to come out here and get laid, I’d have taken a break to come watch.”

I glared at him as I tucked myself back into my jeans, looking over at Sophie who was still fighting off the haze of our passion. She also looked just a little bit mortified about where we were and what we’d just done.

“I’ll get them out of here, Soph,” I muttered. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she mumbled. “I kinda got carried away.”

Her eyes slanted up at me, a scant hint of a smile touching those exquisite lips.

“Get out here, asswipe,” Justin hollered, “time to break down the equipment.”

“Give me a minute, fuckhead,” I growled back.

“I’ll help,” Sophie giggled. “The faster we get this done, the faster we can go back to your place and get naked.”

“Jesus, how in the fuck do you do that?” I laughed. “I just came so hard that I’d have figured I wouldn’t want sex again for a week. But now I’m going to be taking all that shit down with a rager of a hardon.”

“Well, let’s get to work,” she laughed, giving me a hard, fast kiss before she opened her door and climbed out of the car.

Stepping out into the night, I glowered at Denny and Justin with a sullen frown. “Fuckers,” I muttered. “Can’t a guy get a nobber in peace around here?”

Justin chuckled and slapped me on the back. “Well, fuck, Brannon,” he laughed, “the least you could do was to invite us to join you.”

I shot him another dirty look as I stepped over to Sophie and threw my arm over her shoulders to pull her close.

“Yeah, ya right bastard,” Denny agreed. “I’ve seen you in action a few times, Bran, but, good God, Sophie,” Denny grinned, “I’ve never seen anything like you two together.”

“Denny!” Sophie gasped in outrage and sheer mortification. “Oh my God, I can’t believe you just said that.”

“What, Sophie? Yer a fine bitta stuff,” he laughed. “It was all I could do not to toss off all over you two.”

Sophie turned in my arms, burying her head against my chest. “Kill me now,” she murmured. “Oh jeez, just kill me now.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t join in?” Justin stared at Denny incredulously. “Fuck, I’d have been all over that.”

“That’s your deal, not mine, Justin,” Denny shook his head with a wide smile. “I prefer my sex one-on-one. Besides, Brannon doesn’t go for that type of thing, right, Brannon?” He looked over at me, then back to his band mate. “But let me tell you, it was a sight to behold.”

“Oh God,” Sophie groaned into my shirt, as though she was hoping the earth would open up and swallow her whole.

“Dude, you’re so missing out,” Justin said, raising his eyebrows at me. “Nothing in the world like a little dual penetration.”

Sophie lifted her head and looked up at me. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were hot again. “Dual penetration?” she whispered so softly that only I could hear as Denny and Justin continued their debate behind her.

A slow smile began to form on my face, and I winked at her. “We’ll work up to that, baby,” I murmured back, and her fingers dug into my arm at my husky words.

Denny and Justin were still arguing over the pros and cons of joining in, or just wanking, as Denny said with that Irish accent of his. They continued their debate the whole time we loaded up the equipment into the back of Denny’s beat-to-shit old pickup. Some of it was hilarious, if not a little disconcerting to Sophie, which, in itself, was hilarious.

“Okay, I’ll bet you,” I overheard Denny saying as Sophie and I headed outside with the last of the equipment.

“Fine,” replied Justin. “I’ll take that bet. Loser gets wanker tattooed on their arm.”

“Their wanking arm,” laughed Cody.

“I hope you’ve got a spot ready, Justin,” Denny smiled, as though he’d already won whatever they were betting. “Ya haven’t got a baldy.”

“A baldy?” Sophie asked as she handed a small box to Denny.

“Means isna gonna happen like,” Denny replied.

“What isn’t going to happen,” she asked with her brows drawn together in confusion.

He looked down at her for a moment, his face tinged with guilt as though he’d just gotten caught doing something wrong. But just a second, and then he recovered, taking the box of cables from Sophie. “Nothing’s gonna happen. Princess,” he said, and grinned at Justin. “Nothing at all.”

As Denny secured the pickup topper and walked to the driver door to climb in, Justin stood trailing his finger through the dust and grime along the side. Sophie and I settled into the Cougar, and she half snorted a laugh, then burst into a fit of giggles when she saw what Justin had written in the dirt.

“Denny’s gonna kick his ass,” I chuckled.

“Should you tell him or wipe it off or something so he doesn’t drive around like that?” Sophie asked as she tried to subdue her laughter.

“No,” I said, and gave her a wicked grin. “I’m more interested in getting you home and, what was that you said? Oh yeah, that’s right… getting naked.”

With that, my Cougar roared to life, and we hauled ass to get home. Nakedness awaited us.

The second Friday in November brought snow. Thick, fluffy flakes that blanketed the ground overnight. When I’d woken up to it, I’d immediately blown off work and called Sophie to see if she wanted to go for a snowmobile ride. As I waited out in front of her apartment building, my ears were still ringing from the excited squeal she’d let out.

I’d been a little surprised. She’s been under her mother’s thumb the past few days after being guilted into helping arrange some hospital benefit. The last couple weeks had been a bit of a clandestine affair. She made up excuses why she couldn’t be with her family while she was working. Their own social life generally kept them from being too concerned when she spent time with me on the weekends, except duty seemed to be calling a little more lately as the holidays were approaching and all the planning for big holiday fundraisers began.

And they seemed to find a great deal of importance in being giving to the less fortunate. Granted, just about everyone was less fortunate than the Buchanans, but there seemed to be a lot of emphasis placed on being noticeably charitable to organizations that touched people’s hearts and pocketbooks. Animal shelters and children’s hospitals. Puppies and babies. Great organizations that surely benefited from the donations they received, but also ones that were run by people with clout. People who made a show of the generosity with lots of ribbon cutting ceremonies and photo ops. Sophie’s mom and dad front and center holding up a big check. So philanthropic.

So fake.

Because I saw how little they really cared when I looked in Sophie’s eyes. When I made comments about how funny she could be, and her initial shock left no doubt as to the rarity of a compliment that didn’t center around how she looked. Or how kind she could be when it was truly obvious that she wasn’t doing it for the accolades. Or how quickly she picked up on the nuances of helping manage Lily’s shop and her rapport with the customers.

And her ability to handle the stressors of what was, essentially, a double life.

“It’s so pretty!” Sophie cried as she skipped down the sidewalk towards my pickup. The Cougar was blanketed and packed away for winter, safe and sound in the back of my grampa’s shop. While my pickup was far from an old classic, it was hardly new either. Fairly basic, reliable and heavy duty four-wheel-drive that could easily get me in and out of the mountains to play in the snow. I’d loaded my old Artic Cat in the back, thrown in a thermos of coffee, flavored with some sugar and cream and a touch of Jameson, to help ward off the chill. Sophie offered to bring a few sandwiches and a bag of chips, and she tossed them onto the bench seat of the pickup before climbing in.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” she squeaked. “I’m so excited!”

“I’d have never guessed,” I laughed as I put the truck in gear and pulled forward. “Granted, it’s not a motorcycle, but snowmobiling can be even more fun, in my opinion.”

She wore a thick, puffy coat, blue jeans, the girliest-looking snow boots I’ve ever seen with sparkles and high heels, and a fluffy hat and gloves that almost matched the teal-blue color of her eyes. Her little aquamarine piercing glittered in the bright sunshine, sparkling almost as much as the dazzle of snow on the ground around us.

“So where are we going?” Sophie asked.

“About ten miles out is a gulch that is awesome for snowmobiling. My grampa used to bring Mira and I out here a lot when we were younger, as much as it used to freak out my mom.”

“Why? Is it dangerous or something?”

“Not really. But she was always just sure he was going to have a heart attack and die somewhere out in the snow. She was a little neurotic and had a whole scenario worked out where us kids then got eaten by a starving mountain lion or something.”

“Is that a possibility?” Sophie’s eyes were huge, sort of similar to the expression my mother got every time we headed out the door with my grampa.

“I’m not bringing you out here to feed you to the pumas, Soph,” I said, rubbing my hand over her knee to soothe her concern. “Probably won’t even see one. And they’re not likely to attack two people on a snowmobile.”

“Not likely, but they might?”

“Jesus, you sound like my mom,” I laughed, and she shot me a dirty look and then turned towards the window. But after a moment, I saw a small smile touch her lips out of the corner of my eye.

“She worried about you,” she softly said, still gazing out at the winter wonderland we drove through.

“Yeah,” I replied, “she did. And God forbid we stayed out until it got dark. Mom would rant and rave at us for weeks. If it looked like we were going to be late getting back, we sorta had to make the best of it because, chances were, she wasn’t going to let us go back out for a while. But those days were some of the best of my life.”

“I love winter. Didn’t get out in it much. I always wanted to go skiing. Ice skating. Snowmobiling.” She shot me an excited grin. “We used to go somewhere tropical a lot over school breaks, so I didn’t really get to. But one year, we went to Big Sky for Christmas. I thought I was in heaven.”

“Big Sky is beautiful. Right along Yellowstone Park. Too bad they had to build a resort there.”

“I’m glad they did or I’d have never seen it. We spent two weeks there. I skied a little, but never made it off the bunny slopes. My mom was more worried about me having some flashy snow gear, and I spent a lot of time in the shops.” She sighed wistfully. “But there was something about the environment. The atmosphere. The people that worked there.”

A strange tone had entered her voice, and I glanced over at her to see her chewing her lip.

“Like what?” I asked.

“Like the crew that worked at the lodge. They seemed like a little community. They seemed almost like a… family. Most were in their late teens or early twenties, I think. Just out of high school and in college, I guess. It was hard to tell because I was only fourteen. They all seemed so awesome and older and… fun.”

Knowing what I did about Sophie, I could see the appeal there. They represented a real sense of belonging that she’d never felt.

“I always thought about that, for years. I looked it up a couple times… on the website. About how to work there. I thought I could be a housekeeper or a hostess or something. I even applied once, not long after I got back from Paris. Sort of had an interview through Skype, and they offered me a job.”

“You were kind of serious about it, huh? Why didn’t you go?”

“My mom… she was horrified that I even applied.” Sophie grimaced. “She thought it was kind of scandalous that I wanted to clean hotel rooms. So I wrote back and told them some things came up and that I wouldn’t be able to at that time.”

I pulled into a turnout on the dirt road a few miles from the city limits. There were some small hills to cross with the snowmobile, but then a wide-open glacial valley that I had a feeling Sophie would absolutely love. Grabbing the backpack from behind the pickup seat, I reached inside and handed her a pair of ski goggles, then slipped another pair on myself.

“Stick your sandwiches in here with the thermos,” I grinned, handing her the pack. “We’ll go have a picnic in the snow.”

With a little maneuvering, I guided the snowmobile down the ramps to the ground. Patting the seat behind me, I looked back at Sophie who was slipping her arms through the straps of the pack.

“Let’s go, baby,” I smiled.

Sophie climbed on the back, wrapped her arms tightly around my waist, and squealed in my ear as I throttled off into the drifts of white.

“You wanna drive?” I asked.

Sophie shook her head and laughed. “I don’t know how.”

“Easy,” I grinned. “And I’ll be right here with you the whole time.”

I stepped off the sled into the knee-deep snow. With the tracks holding the snowmobile up, I sunk to a level that damn near had me at eye level to where Sophie sat. Her eyes went huge.

“Holy smokes, that’s a lot of snow,” she gasped.

I patted her curvy little bottom. “Scoot your ass up to the front and let me on.”

As I climbed on behind her, I leaned my head forward to show her the brakes and the throttle. After a long, rather detailed explanation about what she needed to do, I looked over at her to see her watching me closely, but clearly not listening to a word I said. She just stared at my lips.

“Soph?”

“Hmm?” she replied dreamily.

I tried again. “Soph?”

“Yeah?” she sighed, still watching my lips.

I tipped my gloved fingers beneath her chin and tipped her up to meet my gaze. She’d pulled the goggles up to the top of her head, and her eyes were hot.

“Did you just hear a word I said?”

“There’s the hand thingy,” she said, a bit dazed, “that makes it go and the brake thingy that makes it stop.”

“How about if I just guide your movements for a bit?”

She nodded, and I dropped a little kiss on her lips, then pulled her goggles down over her eyes and covered her hands with mine. As I leaned into her, I felt a slight shiver course up her body.

“Cold?”

“No,” she whispered and snuggled tighter against my body, her sweet little ass nudging my groin.

“Behave yourself,” I groaned.

“Sorry,” she smiled, but then wiggled against me again anyway. So I gunned the snowmobile, and she let out a startled scream as we lurched forward. It was either that or rip her pants down and fuck her right then and there.

Not that I thought that idea didn’t have merit. I mostly wasn’t sure if I had a condom with me.

Dammit.

And I made a mental note to always make sure I had a condom with me when I was with Sophie. Always.

She got the hang of it rather quickly, and was soon steering and throttling on her own, more or less. Every time I’d let go of the grips, she’d get a little nervous. At one point, she headed rather close to a pine tree and the snowmobile started sliding down into the natural depression made by the lack of snow underneath its branches. Sophie totally panicked and let off the throttle, which made it slide down even more. It took a little brute strength, but I managed to get us up out of the dip. She was incredibly wary of going anywhere near a tree after that.

We stopped in a wide open valley for lunch, and Sophie celebrated her first ride by standing on the footrest and flopping back onto the smooth blanket of white powder to make a snow angel. Unfortunately, the snow was a bit deep for that. She practically buried herself when she fell back and started to move, but looked rather like a snow angel herself when she stood to dust herself off.

In spite of the deep snow on the ground, the sun was surprisingly warm for such a bright day. After her romp in the snow, Sophie pulled off her hat and gloves and unzipped her coat. We sat facing each other, straddling the seat of the snowmobile while we ate. She looked around at the wide-open meadow, the thick snow drifts on the bordering evergreens.

“This is so beautiful,” she murmured. “It looks like… Christmas.” She took another bite of her sandwich and looked up at me. “But like what I always thought Christmas was supposed to be.”

“And what’s Christmas supposed to be?” I asked with a grin.

“Pristine. Quiet and peaceful,” she dreamily replied, then frowned. “With my family, it’s always more of a show. To see who could donate the most money, who could host the most lavish parties, who could give the most extravagant presents.”

“You probably got some good shit out of it, though, right?” There had to be a bright side. I came from a family that sometimes worried if there would even be a Christmas.

“I suppose. I always had the ‘must have’ toy of the season, even if it was something I didn’t want. It generally was something I didn’t want.” Her eyebrows furrowed, and looked up at me apologetically. “That makes me sound pretty ungrateful, doesn’t it? It wasn’t that I wanted something else. I just didn’t really want anything. I was a good girl, though. I’d smile and be thankful, just like I was told to.” Her mouth twisted as she thought back. “Like with my car.”

“You got your car for Christmas?” I’d seen her car and was well aware that it had likely cost about forty-grand. And it was a Christmas present?

“I had a nice, plain little Subaru sedan in high school. Nothing terribly flashy. But it had great safety ratings.” She gave me a sad smile, rolling her eyes just a little sarcastically.

“Nice that they cared about your safety, I guess,” I said, a little confused by the tone to her voice.

“They were really good at telling everyone how much they cared. It was kind of a bragging point for my mother, telling all her friends how important it was to keep her only child safe.”

Okay, that I could see. Totally.

What little I knew about Sophie’s mother, the bits and pieces Sophie had told me mixed with my own stalkerish observations, she didn’t seem like the warm and fuzzy type. She certainly didn’t seem like the type to go for function over fashion. Unless the function was fashionable for simply being functional.

“Then, my dad surprised me last Christmas with the BMW. A big bow on it and everything. Just like a fucking car commercial. Luxury SUVs are all the rage now, you know,” she murmured sardonically and shrugged. “Plus, Richard’s mom has one, so it was sort of like they were priming me to lead the next generation of Banner women by putting me in the same kind of car.” She smiled wryly. “It also gives them another thing to hold over me. To remind me that I owe them everything.”

I reached for the thermos and poured a little more coffee into the cup. Handing it to her, I tried to keep the gruff tone out of my voice.

“Your parents kind of piss me off, Soph,” I said, watching her blow into the cup to cool it before she took a long drink.

She handed the cup back to me with a forlorn smile. “I think that’s why I like you so much.”

“Because your parents piss me off?” I raised my pierced eyebrow and I drank most of the Irish coffee, feeling the warmth seep through my body. “Or because they’d really hate that you spend time with someone like me?”

“Neither,” Sophie said, shaking her head.

She took the cup from me, swallowed the last sip, and screwed the cup back onto the thermos. Leaning forward to place it back into the backpack that hung from one of the handlebars, she then scooted a little closer to me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and lightly kissing my lips.

“It’s because you’re nothing like them, Bran,” she stated with conviction. Then she curled into me, pressing her face into my neck. “Nothing at all.”

“Do you want me to take you home?” I asked as we passed the Ophir city limits sign.

Sophie sat close to me on the pickup seat with her head on my shoulder as I drove, the backpack on the passenger side. Her nose was slightly sunburned, in spite of the sunscreen I made her wear, from being out all day in the bright glare of the snow. The pink tinge glowed in the setting sun as she shook her head.

“No,” she said, then looked confused. “I mean, unless you want to. I don’t really want to keep you from what you were planning—”

“Not planning shit, Sophie,” I grinned.

“It’s Friday,” she said, her eyebrow raised.

“Yeah,” I replied, “so let’s grab some pasties and head back to my place. There’s that take-out place on the edge of town.”

“Don’t you need to go help the band or something?”

“Nah, they’ve got a couple extra hands tonight. I kinda… I like the idea of just hanging out with you a little longer.” I slanted a sidelong glance in her direction. “Naked, of course.”

Sophie laughed, biting her lip as her eyes sparkled. “I think that could be arranged.”

So we stopped on the way to my place and grabbed a couple pasties with extra gravy. And they sat on the kitchen counter and got cold as we warmed up in the shower. But, even reheated in the microwave, Sophie still said it was about the best thing she’d ever eaten, maybe aside from the tilapia I’d made her a while back.

And once again, I didn’t ask if she wanted to go home. I kept her wrapped in a blanket with me, snuggled up on the couch as more snow began to fall outside, blowing and swirling out the window. Until it had grown very late and she began to fade off to sleep. Then I led her to the bathroom where I dug out what had sort of become her toothbrush. Sophie’s toothbrush in my place.

And Sophie in my bed.

And it all seemed so incredibly right.

“I'm making mom’s enchilada recipe for dinner,” my sister said into the phone.

“What do you want, Mira?” I asked her with suspicion.

“What? I just want my little brother to come over for dinner,” she innocently replied. “And to maybe bring that girl Cody said you've been seeing.”

“What the fuck? I’m going to fire that fucker,” I scowled. “When were you talking to Cody?”

“Well, I was trying to talk to you. I stopped by the garage on Friday to ask you about Thanksgiving, and Cody said you'd gone snowmobiling with Sophie.” I could picture the expression on Mira’s face. It was the same one she likely wore when I had wrecked her car in high school. She was pretty pissed. “He said it like I should know who Sophie is. But my brother hasn’t told me about Sophie.”

“It’s not a big deal, Mira.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Was I?

Of course I was.

Yeah, maybe it was more serious than anyone else I had ever been involved with, but that wasn’t saying much.

“Yes, I'm sure.”

“Cody said you've been seeing a lot of her lately.”

And I had. Whenever she could get away from the demands of society and her parents. I hadn’t slept without her since Thursday night, and I was kind of getting used to that. To having her in my bed every night.

“It’s really not a big deal.”

“He said you guys are practically shacked up, Brannon,” Mira accused with laughter in her voice. “Why didn’t you tell me you've got a girlfriend.”

“It’s not that serious, Mira,” I argued. “There’s not really anything to tell. We just kind of… hang out.”

“But it is serious,” she gasped. Her tone became eerily similar to the way she used to tease me when we were kids. “Cody said you've been taking her with you to the Copperline, and, from what I hear, you never take a girl with you to the Copperline. You leave with plenty, but you never take one with you.”

“Why the fuck does everyone keep saying that?”

“Because you're a slut, Brannon,” she exclaimed. “How many other girls have you slept with lately?”

“You're my sister. I'm not really comfortable talking about that with you,” I started.

“How many, Brannon?”

“Mira—”

“Cody said she’s the only piece you've had for a couple months—”

“Since when did you and Cody get to be such buddies?”

“—and that’s not like you.”

“Do me a favor, huh? Tell him he’s fucking unemployed the next time you guys are gossiping and sharing recipes and all that shit you BFFs do.”

“When do I get to meet her?” she asked.

“I don’t know if it will ever get to that, Mira,” I groaned. “It’s really not a big deal.”

“Well,” she announced, as though she hadn’t even heard me, “I'm making enchiladas for dinner and I want you to bring her.”

“Can’t, Mira,” I chuckled. “Not tonight.”

“What?” Her voice was slightly teasing, as if she knew I wasn’t planning to all along but wanted to give me a hard time. “Brannon, you always come over when I make enchiladas.”

“Yeah, but I have plans tonight.”

Silence for a minute which, for my sister, was never good.

“Plans with Sophie?” she finally pried with a smile in her voice. She was totally enjoying this.

“Maybe…” I trailed off, not really wanting to admit it, especially to her, but even to myself. I wasn’t entirely sure what was happening with Sophie and I. But I liked it and I didn’t want to fuck with it by examining it too closely.

But, all that aside, oh yeah… I had major plans with Sophie for the night.

“What are we doing here?” Sophie asked as we pulled up to the Mofos’ house a little while later. I’d told her I had a surprise for her, but hadn’t even hinted as to what it was. “It doesn’t look like anyone’s home.”

I leveled my gaze at her, watching her carefully. “Justin is.”

“Justin?” Sophie looked confused for a moment, and then it clearly began to dawn on her why we were there. Her voice shook a little and grew breathless. “So, us and Justin?”

I nodded slowly, studying her every movement. Every breath. Every throb of the pulse at her neck. “If you still want to…”

Sophie looked down into her lap where her hands twisted together. Her breathing became faster, heavier. A faint flush of pink began to color her cheeks. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips. When she looked back at me her eyes were dark and hot.

“I still want to,” she whispered with a shaky breath.

I leaned forward and dragged her across the bench seat of my pickup, closer to me. Cupping my hand around the back of her head, I roughly pulled her lips towards mine, kissing her fiercely. Her eyes were heavy with lust when I lifted my head. “Let’s go then,” I growled against her lips.

I didn’t knock. Justin said he would be up in his room, so I held Sophie’s hand and led her up the stairs. His door was open near the end of the hallway. As we got closer, Sophie began to tremble. I paused at the doorway, standing to the side as I gestured in with my hand and waited for her to step into the room.

“Ladies first,” I said quietly.

Sophie looked up at me for a minute, then into the room where Justin was still looking out the window. She looked purely terrified, but flushed with anticipation. Lifting her head, she squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and stepped into the room. I followed her in and shut the door behind me.

Justin turned away from the window at the sound of the clicking lock.

I stepped up behind Sophie curving my arm around her waist. She was shaking. Her breathing was erratic. She tipped her head back against my shoulder as I gathered her close.

“You can stop us at any time, Soph,” I whispered into her ear. “This is all for you.”

“Okay,” she breathed and turned towards me to kiss the scripted letters inked on my neck.

Do or die.

I grasped her hand and led her over to the bed where I sat on the low mattress, pulling her to stand between my legs, facing me. I pulled off the coat she wore to reveal a simple dress, kind of like a long shirt, buttons down the front and a thin belt at the waist. Reaching up, I loosened her dainty belt buckle and began to unbutton the dress. Slowly. Carefully. Watching my hands. Her breath caught in her throat when I had her dress about halfway undone, and I looked up into her face. Her eyes were shut tightly, lashes dark against her cheeks. Her chest rose and fell heavily, and her luscious breast peeked through the opening of her dress, straining against her little black lacy bra.

“Sophie, baby,” I whispered, “look at me.”

Her eyes flew open, focusing in on mine. I traced my fingertip down her cheek, soothing her overwrought brow.

“Are you okay?” I asked. “Do you want to do this? We can wait.”

She shook her head quickly. “I don’t want to wait.”

“Are you nervous about Justin? We could find—”

“I'm nervous,” she exhaled, “but I want to. I want this now.”

“I’ll be right here with you, baby, the whole time,” I promised. “Just you and me until you are ready. Justin will wait until we tell him to join us.”

Sophie nodded and brought her hands to either side of my face, lowering her lips to mine, kissing me feverishly. Desperately. A small gasping moan escaped her as I undid the last few buttons and pushed the dress from her shoulders.

“Fuck,” I heard Justin whisper from across the room. “Denny was right, she’s fucking amazing.”

And she was, standing there before me. Black lacy bra and panties, thigh-high stockings, and shiny black heels.

Amazing didn’t even begin to describe Sophie.

She continued to kiss me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders. My hands came to rest on the curve of her little lace-covered ass, and I kneaded her soft flesh to bring her closer. Our tongues twisted together, teasing and drawing her out of her shell. Amping up her passion. Stoking the consuming fire in her body. She softly moaned as my hand feathered up her spine to the clasp of her bra, and her kiss intensified as I released it and slid the lacy straps down her shoulders. My lips trailed down her neck, over her collarbone, to the tight peak of her breast. At the same time, the hand I had on her bottom slipped up inside her panties. Sophie’s head fell back, and she let out a throaty moan that was echoed by Justin’s from the window.

I hooked my fingertips into the scrap of black lace at her hips, and pulled her panties down, over her stockings, and helped her step free. Then I lifted my head to look at my perfect girl.

Her eyes were closed, her hair tousled around her head. Lips red and wet from my kisses. Her breasts rose and fell, begging me to taste them and touch them and tease them.

Justin’s platform bed sat low on the floor, and by hunching down and tilting my head, I could just reach the fine strip of hair at the apex of Sophie’s legs. I nuzzled the soft flesh, breathing in deeply to pull the scent of her arousal, and flicked my tongue out to sweep up against her clit. So sweet, so irresistible. Sophie’s gasp rang through the room, and she clutched my hair, pulling my face more firmly against her sweet pussy. She trembled and writhed against me, moaning with the pleasure of my tongue.

Justin groaned, and I lifted my head from my blissful treat to look over at him.

“What do you think, Justin? Isn’t she the fucking hottest thing you’ve ever seen?”

“Fuck, Brannon,” he groaned. “Hurry up, I’m dying.” Sophie’s eyes opened slightly, and she turned her heavy-lidded gaze towards him. She trailed her fingertips through the tangle of my short hair, gasping a little as I nipped the skin low on her stomach.

“You should probably get ready,” she whispered to Justin, then looked back to me. “You guys have way too many clothes on.”

Sophie bent slightly at the knees, and her fingernails skated down my ribs to gather the fabric of my t-shirt. She leaned down to kiss me hard as she started to tug it up, pulling back to slip it over my head. Both hands resting lightly over the phoenix on my chest, she hovered her lips over mine.

“You first,” she breathed. “I want you to fuck me first.”

“Jesus, Sophie,” I groaned. “Just when I think you can’t get any better, you fucking blow my mind.”

“First and last,” she said quietly. “It starts and ends with you, Bran.”

I reached down under the sweet curves of her bottom and lifted her against me, turning and rolling to lay her on the bed beneath me. Her legs shifted to cradle my hips in between, wide open as she pushed up against my dick. My lips closed over hers, and she moaned deep in the back of my throat as my fingers combed through her hair, holding her head still for the assault of my lips on hers. The sharp scrape of her nails dug in low on my back, clawing at me to come closer. She rhythmically ground her pussy against my denim-covered hips.

“Please,” she whispered as she pulled back slightly. “Please, Brannon, I need you so badly right now.”

The scratch of her nails traveled down to my fly, then left my skin as she began to pull at the buttons. I heard a faint shuffling of fabric elsewhere in the room, Justin undressing most likely. Just as Sophie’s hand wrapped around my dick, there was the sound of a drawer opening, and closing and a strip of condoms landed on the bed beside us, along with a small bottle of lube.

Sophie opened her eyes to see Justin sitting naked on the edge of the bed, watching us and stroking his cock slowly and methodically.

“Condom,” she breathed, and Justin reached with his other hand to grasp one, ripping it from the strip and handing it to her. “You too,” she whispered to him, ripping the package open and slipping her hands down my abdomen to slip the latex over my pulsing length.

Sophie putting a condom on me was almost enough to send me over the edge. Every. Fucking. Time. She rolled it down me, stroking and squeezing ever so slightly, and she lifted her lips for a hard, animalistic kiss. Her hips tilted just ever so slightly, and my dick nudged at her slick center, so crazy wet, and slipped into the tight warmth of her body.

I stroked once, then again, harder and stronger, holding myself so deep in her heated flesh.

“You ready for more, Sophie,” I asked hoarsely.

Her eyes drifted open and she nodded.

“I want to suck his cock while you fuck me,” she whispered.

Justin stepped closer, positioning his thick, hard length above her. “I’m fruit-flavored even, baby,” he said as he rolled the condom on. “Want a taste?”

Sophie grasped him in her hand and guided him towards her lips. The tip of her tongue darted out against him, tasting him with a long swipe, she then lifted her head to take him into her mouth.

That was really fucking hot.

Like I-damn-near-blew-my-load-right-there hot.

My own dick buried deep inside Sophie, feeling every little squeeze and pulse of her pussy, my hand cupping her breast and pinching at her tender nipples, and Sophie’s lips wrapped around Justin’s cock.

I was shocked by how much I liked it. And how much I hated it. All at the same time. The warring emotions twisted inside me. I was jealous and enthralled. The angry lust surged through my body, pounding through my veins, raging through my dick. I began to fuck her harder, rough strokes almost to punish her for sucking him down her throat, for the way her fingertips cupped his balls and stroked his length.

Justin’s fingers tangled in her hair and his hips began to flex against her, fucking her mouth while I fucked her pussy. My hand on one of her breasts, his on the other, caressing and kneading, holding her steady as we worshiped the beauty lying there below us.

I circled my hips, and Sophie stiffened and gasped, ripping her mouth away from him, her cry echoing through the room.

“Bran!” she cried.

I felt a moment of success, a thrill of victory that I had pulled her back to me, that I had gotten to her more.

Justin’s hand returned to his dick and he jerked it roughly, lowering his head to Sophie’s nipple, drawing at it harshly, nipping the flesh surrounding it, leaving small, sharp bites on the soft white skin of her breast. I drew her leg up, still covered in the thigh-high black stocking, and Justin pulled it against her body, spreading her wide so I could slam into her with a renewed force.

“Fuck, Bran,” Justin groaned. “That looks amazing.”

I slowed, pushing deep inside her, holding it until my muscles burned with the continued strain, then pulled back, almost completely out. Back in again and holding it tight. Sophie stiffened and moaned every time I buried myself inside her, then her breathing picked up as Justin’s head dipped down to nip down the back of her thigh at the bare skin just above the lacy top of her stocking. As I pulled back, Justin’s tongue slipped farther up towards her pussy, licking hard and swirling around to touch where Sophie and I were connected.

I should have been completely weirded out by that. I was totally hetero, at least I’d always thought I was, but something about seeing his mouth so close to my dick made me suddenly irrationally hot. He sucked a little at the soft mound of flesh just to the side of her clit, and I felt the raspy brush of his unshaven jaw scrape along my length. I even felt the swipe of his tongue on me, although I tried really hard not to think about that. It felt so incredibly wrong. I focused on Sophie, moaning and tossing her head against the pillow, a rapturous expression on her face.

Justin’s hand slipped down under Sophie’s hips as he toyed with her, and even with me. He slipped a finger inside her pussy, right alongside my dick, stroking our joined bodies a few times before he withdrew and trailed the wetness down to circle the tight puckered hole below it. I felt him slip his finger into her ass, felt him fill her with the narrow length, and Sophie curled up against me.

“Fuck, yes,” she cried.

I sat up, pulling her up with me, not breaking the connection we had, and fell back against the mattress. Wrapping my arms tightly around her, I spread her legs wide with my own, nudging them apart, opening her up for Justin to take her ass.

And he did. He moved in behind her, quickly grabbing the bottle of lube and liberally coating his dick. He trailed a little down along the cleft of her bottom, and it dripped down to my balls, cool and wet in the heat of our coupling. He bent over her, slowly pressing against her, and I stopped moving for a minute, holding her steady. Her writhing body firmly captured in my arms.

I could feel him through the thin walls of her pussy. I could feel him push inside, almost stroking my dick as he began to fuck her. I’d been drunk off my rocker the only other time I’d done anything like this, and it had been clumsy and wild and not remotely the same.

This… this was calculated. Justin was careful as he filled her. Sophie tensed and her whole body arched against him, against me.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Justin hoarsely whispered, "bring that hot ass up just a little. Oh yeah… right… fuck…”

He slowly moved in, clearing the tight ring of muscles along the rim and pulling a long, deep moan from Sophie’s throat. A moan I caught with my lips. As I let her up for air, she whispered against me.

“Oh fuck, Bran,” she breathed. “Oh my god.”

I felt the brush of Justin’s balls against mine and realized he was fully inside her quivering little body. We both were. Sophie trembled and shook in between us, her body squeezing my dick so phenomenally.

“Fuck, Soph,” I growled, “your pussy is doing some amazing shit right now.”

She and I both gasped and moaned when Justin began to move, his deep, hard strokes rubbing along both of us. Slowly, my own hips began to jut upwards, flexing against her, and before long, both Justin and I were picking up speed, fucking her in a synchronous rhythm that had Sophie crying out in the quiet room.

“Bran,” she desperately sobbed.

“Right here, baby,” I moaned against her neck as Justin and I kept up the pace. “I’ve got you, Sophie. Fuck, baby, I’ve got you.”

She began to tremble more violently, her muscles tightening and her pussy squeezing me almost painfully.

“Fuck,” Justin ground out, “holy fuck… this… fuck.”

He pulled out, ripping off the condom and jacking his cock while I continued to slam Sophie down onto me, brutal and vicious, my fingers bruising the tender flesh of her hips with my desperate grip. Sophie screamed my name and began to shudder over me. Two or three more thrusts, and I was done for. And it was all finished off as Justin rubbed out another stroke or two, coming in hot spurts all over Sophie’s back and ass.

Sophie lay dazed, sprawled out on top of me, breathing heavily but with her eyes closed tight. Barely responsive.

My girl had just come really fucking hard.

I opened my eyes to see Justin tracing his fingers through the spattering of cum on her skin. His eyes met mine for a minute.

“You are a lucky motherfucker,” he grinned with a sated breath. “That was fucking amazing.”

I brushed my lips against Sophie’s forehead. “She’s amazing,” I said, totally mushy girly shit, but my brain couldn’t think of anything else to say.

Because she was. Everything about her.

“I’ll go get cleaned up in the other room,” he said quietly, taking one last long look at the beautiful pale skin on display before him. “Give you guys a little time. There’re a couple towels on the dresser.” His eyes met mine again. “Just let me know when you two are up for another go. I’d do this again in a heartbeat.”

Hot as it had been, I instantly bristled. My jaw clenched as I tried to keep what little cool I had at the moment.

“I get the front next time though,” Justin quietly laughed.

“Sorry, dude,” I said with a no-bullshit jerk of my head. “This is it.”

“What? Why? It was incredible.”

“This was only for her, for her list. I sure as fuck won’t give her to anyone like I just had her.”

“Dude, she liked it.”

“Yeah, but… no. No more. I won’t share her again.”

“Wait a minute. Since when have you felt possessive of any chick?”

I looked back down to Sophie, exhausted and more or less passed out on top of me. “She’s not just any chick.”

As the words left my mouth, my heart lurched with the realization that they were all too true.

Sophie was quiet when I roused her, and I could feel an unsure air around her. With every fiber of my being, I knew I should offer her some security. She seemed shaken and troubled.

But I was shaken and troubled as well, and I couldn’t find the words to offer her. So I held her for a while, tucked close to my heart, wrapped around her as though I could swallow her whole with my arms.

Rising a little later to pull on my jeans, I helped her with her dress, brushing away her trembling hands to fasten her buttons. I tucked her bra and panties in my jacket pocket, and held her coat while she slipped it on.

In my pickup, she stayed quiet. She chewed at her lip and gazed out the window into the fading sunset. The clouds in the distance had taken on a wintry pink hue that reflected heavy snow around us. It painted her pale skin with a soft blush and a gentle sweetness that made me reach for her hand. As her fingertips curled into mine, she looked over at me, uncertain and timid.

I pulled into the lot outside my building and climbed out of the pickup, motioning for her to slide across the bench seat towards me. I guided her to the icy ground, then tucked her arm in mine as we headed inside to my apartment.

Sophie stepped in my door, walking a few steps into my living room and turning slowly to watch me shut the world outside.

“Bran,” she asked with a broken breath, “are you mad? Did I do something wrong?”

I stepped towards her, pulling her roughly into my arms and kissing her hard. Her arms crept up around my shoulders, clutching me to her, flattening her body against me. I lifted my head and gripped her closer, burying my face in her hair.

“Fuck, Sophie,” I groaned, “I’m not mad. You were… fuck, you were incredible.” I lifted my head and kissed her on the temple, cupping her face in my hand. “I just… I really hope you got that out of your system because I think I’d kill the next motherfucker who touched you.”

She choked out a half-surprised, half-relieved laugh. Then her expression grew serious, her eyebrows drawing together. “It was you,” she whispered. “I could only think of you.” She gently kissed me, and breathed her words against my lips. “It was hot and dirty and exciting and wrong. It was everything I thought it would be. But all I wanted was for it to be you.”

I wrapped my arms around her waist and lifted her against me, her feet dangling above the floor as she hugged me tight and breathed heavily into my shoulder.

“God, Sophie,” I said. I had no other words. Every thought in my brain was twisted together, and I couldn’t make sense of any of it. I could only hold her, feel her clutching me tightly, wanting to believe that all this truly meant something to her.

At long last, I took a few steps towards the bathroom, not releasing her, but carrying her with me.

“We need a shower. I need to wash that fucker’s spunk off you.”

Sophie giggled into my neck, limp like a rag doll in my arms.

“God, please…” she whispered and giggled again. “I only want your spunk on me.”

In the bathroom, I lowered her to the floor and cupped her face in my hands. Her expression grew serious, likely mirroring mine. The words were right there on the tip of my tongue, aching to come out.

I love you.

I froze for a second, trying to wrap my mind around that. It didn’t seem possible. Not for me. Not yet.

Then Sophie leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed me gently, and it was gone. The moment passed.

I began to free the buttons on the front of her dress, for the second time that day. This time, there was a new determination in my touch.

“As hot as this was today, Sophie, I fucking hated that he was touching you.”

Her eyes met mine, and I cupped her jaw tightly.

“I've kind of started to think of these lips as mine.”

I kissed her fiercely sliding my fingertips down her neck to trace her collarbone. I pushed the dress from her shoulders and dropped my hands to her breasts, lifting them and teasing the nipples with my thumbs.

“These beautiful fucking tits,” I said, and kissed her hard again, pinching her nipples to the point of almost pain, “I think they’re mine too.” Her breath started coming in heavy pants, and her groin begin to press up against mine.

My fingertips lowered, down over her stomach to the soft, wet heat between her thighs. “This pussy is mine.” My voice had gotten harsh as she moaned against my lips.

My fingers dipped up inside her center, feeling her squeeze around me, then around to her bottom to the cleft of her ass, just brushing the tight entrance. “And this ass is mine. Don’t think I could bear to watch somebody take you here again, no matter how awesome it feels. I’m a greedy motherfucker.”

I lifted her against me and stepped into the shower and washed all the traces of Justin away. I soaped up her skin and swept over every inch of her, around her curves and inside her heated, wet center. I left her under the hot spray for a moment while I quickly grabbed a condom, then returned to her. I pushed her up against the tiled wall and fucked her hard and fast, biting into her shoulder and marking her, covering the little bites Justin had left on her breasts with my own. Sophie moaned and writhed against me. She met each thrust and clawed at my skin to bring me closer as she came, screaming my name.

Mine.

I wanted her to be mine.

She was all I’d thought about… all day long.

I waited outside Lily’s salon, aching for her. Literally. The thoughts I had about her generally involved a lot of nakedness, and my brain had been in full on porno mode that day. My dick actually hurt. I almost went and rubbed one off in the garage bathroom before I left, thinking she’d probably not appreciate me just attacking her the minute I got her alone.

But, then, I thought, maybe she would.

There she was, stepping outside, quickly rushing through the cool air to my pickup. I climbed out and motioned her around to the driver side. I wanted her ass right beside me.

As she came closer, I caught her face in my hands, only intending to place a light kiss on her soft lips. But at the first touch, she threw her arms around my neck and pulled up closer, tilting her head to deepen the kiss and swirl her tongue through my mouth.

The wind blew, snowflakes blustering down from the rooftops and covering us in a chilly dusting of snow. Sophie gave a little squeal that made me laugh as I turned her by the shoulders and helped her into the truck. Helped her as in I put my hand on her ass and more or less goosed her as she climbed in. It was effective. In more ways than one. As I climbed in beside her, she leaned up and bit my earlobe.

“Take me home, Bran,” she said with a throaty groan.

Two hours later, we lay in my bed, tucked into the warm flannel sheets eating a pizza we’d just had delivered. Dinner in bed. Naked dinner. Best dinner ever.

I took a sip of my beer, tilting the bottle to Sophie in an offering.

“You know,” she said, setting down her pizza to take the bottle, “I’d never once tried beer before I met you.” Her other hand was holding the dark sheets up to her naked breasts, and I was trying to figure out how to convince her to lay back so I could pour it over her and drink it off her skin. She took a sip as she smiled, then another. “I kind of like it. I wasn’t too sure at first.”

“Well, it’s probably a little different than your everyday fine wine.”

“I actually kind of like cheap wine,” she chuckled. “My parents frowned upon me drinking much of anything because they knew I had no taste. So much of it was just so… similar. I couldn’t really tell much difference, so they generally made me stick to nonalcoholic things. Plus, my mother was always on me about calories.”

“Wine was never really my thing,” I chuckled. “I tried the dirt cheap stuff when I was younger, like Mad Dog and Boone’s Farm, but it was pretty fruity. I always kinda went straight for the hard stuff. And then Denny turned me on to Jameson. But I do like a good cold beer.”

“You sound like an old man,” Sophie laughed as she wiped her fingertips off with a napkin. “When you were younger?”

“Well, I was pretty young when I started drinking, really,” I admitted. “Even by small-town Montana standards. Not long after my mom died, I fell into kind of a rough crowd, most of whom had parents with well-stocked liquor cabinets.”

Slightly wary of becoming too serious, I took the last bite of crust, and closed up the pizza box, reaching over to set it on my dresser. I figured I’d just toss the rest in the morning. Sophie watched me closely, quietly.

“How old were you when your mom died?” she finally asked in a soft, gentle voice.

So much for not getting serious. I lay back on the bed, my head against the pillows, and pulled her down to rest her head on my chest. “I’d just turned twelve.” My throat suddenly felt tight. I’d never really talked about it much, with anyone. Not even Mira or my grampa. Not Denny. But for some reason, I couldn’t seem to stop from telling Sophie.

“That’s pretty young,” she whispered. Her fingertips trailed across my collar bone and my shoulder. Down my arm.

“Yeah, I guess,” I tried to shrug it off. “She’d only been sick for a few months. It was a pretty aggressive cancer. She’d fought it. The cancer had fought harder. She was barely diagnosed and then she was dying.” Sophie didn’t say anything. She just… held me, as pussy-ish as that sounds.

I turned to look down at her and pressed a quick, soft kiss against her forehead. “After that, it was kinda like my sister felt the urge to take over our mom’s role, like her purpose in life was to tell me what to do. It only got worse when my grampa died. When he left me his shop.”

Sophie rose up over me, scooting up a little to brush a lock of hair out of my eyes. She didn’t really say anything, just listened as I spoke.

“Mira and I were really the only family he had left. She had just gotten married, so he left his house to her. It made total sense since she’s older than me. A lot more stable than me. But then that crazy old man went and left me his garage. I was just barely twenty-three at the time. Even now, a year later, I don’t feel like I have any business running that place. I honestly wonder at the wisdom in leaving his life’s work in the hands of someone like me.”

“He must have seen something in you, Bran,” she murmured. “Maybe something you still don’t see in yourself.”

I gave a derisive snort and shook my head. “I told Mira I was just gonna sell it.”

“I’m guessing you didn’t, since you still have it.”

“No, I sure didn’t. She came completely unglued, raked me over the coals with how much our mom and grampa wanted me to have a good life. She totally guilted me into keeping it, wasn’t about to let me back out. She was on a super bossy roll and can be kinda intimidating when she does that.”

Sophie smiled. “She cares about you.”

“Yeah, I guess she does.” I suddenly felt guilty for complaining about Mira, realizing that Sophie would have given damn near anything for that kind of relationship as a kid. “I’d, um…” I murmured in a thick voice as I lightly brushed her bangs back from her eyes, “I’d like you to meet her.”

It was a pretty hefty implication. I’d never ever even once taken a chick to meet my sister, and there was no doubt in my mind exactly what I was asking. When that tender look reflected in Sophie’s eyes, when a flicker of sweet belonging flashed, I could see that she understood it, too.

“I’d like that,” she murmured, just the faintest catch in her voice. Then she leaned up to kiss me tenderly, and we soon had forgotten everything but the two of us.

The Copperline was packed and the band belted out one song after another. Lily had just dragged Sophie off to the bathroom with her as I headed to the back door to let in some fresh, cool winter air. It was hot as fuck in the bar. All those bodies and the bright stage lights had the band sweating to the point where they were looking a little worse for the wear.

I propped the door open and took a deep breath, looking out into the dark night. The temperature hovered just below freezing and a cloud of steamy air swirled around with the cold as I stood there for a moment. Above the banging band, though, I heard female voices through the bathroom door.

“Well of course he was going to sleep with you,” one girl said, maybe Laura. “You’re a novelty. You’re hot and you’re rich. Why wouldn’t he want a taste of that?”

“Yeah,” came another, this one sounded like Pauline, I think, “but do you really think he’ll change for you? Do you really think you’re that special? Because underneath all that money and behind that pretty face, you’re just a little slut like the rest of us.”

“Fuck off,” I clearly heard Lily spit back at them, “you two are just jealous that he wants Sophie and not you.”

Laura snorted. “He just wants her because she’s pretty and rich and unattainable.”

I shoved open the door so hard it crashed up against the wall. Sophie stood behind Lily, her face white as a sheet. Her earlier buoyant mood had evaporated into a dismal presence.

“What the fuck are you going on about?” I growled at Laura and Pauline. Lily was in full mother bear mode, right up in Pauline’s face.

Laura shrank back at my glowering appearance. “Brannon,” she gasped.

Sophie gave me a disconcerted look. This clearly wasn’t the first time this sort of conversation had gone down. I thought back to the drunken girls’ night out and Sophie’s perceptions back then. I should have guessed that these two were the culprits.

Sophie’s eyes suddenly looked wary and doubtful. She had her mask back in place. Her protection from everyone and everything, including me.

Fuck.

“Lily, get her out to my truck.”

“Come on, girl,” Lily murmured and ushered Sophie out of the restroom, heading towards the back door rather than back down the hallway to the bar.

I rounded on Pauline and Laura. “Leave her the fuck alone.”

“You were so much more fun before she showed up, Brannon,” Laura shot back. “What the fuck does she have that I don’t? Or Pauline? Or Ruth?”

“Class,” I growled in response. “Not because she’s got money, but she’s got integrity. She’s got a fucking conscience and a fucking heart. So leave her the fuck alone.”

With that, I followed Sophie and Lily outside.

“They’re just jealous, Sophie,” Lily was saying.

Sophie stood by my pickup, rubbing her bare arms in the cold winter night. I pulled off the flannel shirt I wore over my cotton tee and tucked it around her shoulders.

“Soph, don’t listen to them,” I murmured against the top of her head as I pulled her close. “I made the mistake of sleeping with Laura a while back. She’s just pissed that I didn’t want more from her.”

Lily nudged my arm and arched her eyebrow up at me. “I’m not sure admitting you slept with that bitch is really gonna help, Brannon.”

“Well, I’d fucking undo it if I could,” I snapped. “Jesus, I’m sorry, Soph. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she murmured quietly. “I’m alright.”

But it wasn’t okay. She wasn’t okay.

“Why don’t you two go on and head home,” Lily suggested, smoothing Sophie’s hair back from her face. “I’ll tell the guys what happened, so they’re not wondering where you are.”

“Thanks, Lily,” I nodded.

Lily gave me a sympathetic smile and looked back at Sophie. “Don’t let those bitches make you feel bad, Sophie. You’re the one who’s wrapped in his arms right now.”

Sophie didn’t totally seem convinced, but she did press a little closer, seeking my warmth and my strength.

That was something, anyway.

“You’ve never stayed at my place,” Sophie said quietly as we hit the edge of Ophir. “Do you want to?” She sat leaned up against me in the center of the pickup’s bench seat, but her gaze was off in the distance, looking out the passenger side window at the world passing us by.

This seemed a bit of a strange request. Sophie didn’t even like her apartment. The one time I’d been inside, that much had been painfully clear. She wasn’t even remotely comfortable there, which is probably why we always stayed at my place.

“Sure,” I replied cautiously, “I guess.”

She laid her head down on my shoulder.

“You okay, baby?” I asked.

“I’m fine, Bran,” she said. “It’s not the first time I’ve been slapped upside the head with something like that…” Her voice trailed off, and she took a deep breath. “I don’t want to think about it. I just want to forget it all, to be in your arms. I like that reality a lot better than the real one.”

“Soph—”

She turned more towards me, arching to softly kiss my neck as her hand drifted down between my legs. “Please, Bran,” she whispered, “I don’t want to talk. I just want to go home so you can make me feel free.”

So I did.

I didn’t push her to talk. Maybe I should have. It would have maybe helped me open up, too. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. Quite honestly, all of this shit, the way I was starting to feel about her, made me uneasy. And the longer we let it ride, the more precarious things became. The more opportunity for things to really get all fucked up.

So I pushed it from my mind, refusing to see the fragile cracks that were forming in our little glass bubble. I refused to acknowledge that there might be anything but now, this reality.

We got to her apartment, and she led me to her bedroom, coolly decorated with the same chic décor that had none of Sophie’s personality whatsoever. Without a word, she stripped me down and sank to her knees before me.

And then I ceased to think of anything but her sweet mouth. Her bright crystalline eyes as she looked up at me, her lips wrapped around my cock. Her dark lashes that fanned out over her cheeks when she closed her eyes.

Everything about her was beautiful. Inside and out. Real and passionate, even when she was holding back…

Like she was now.

I jerked back from her, grabbing a condom from my wallet with one hand and pulling her to stand with the other. Everything seemed dangerously perilous, on the verge of total collapse, and that made me edgy. I roughly pushed her back down onto the bed. I’d make her react. I’d make her scream for me.

Feeding off the same uncertain energy, Sophie wiggled out of her dress as I slipped the condom on and stood over her. Her teal satin bra and little matching panties made her skin seem pearly white, soft and smooth. And as much as I wanted to soak in the image and keep it forever in my mind, my raging body needed her like it needed fucking air.

I pushed the crotch of her panties to the side and surged into her, hard and abrupt. She gasped at the sudden intrusion, but her hips rose to meet mine. Her fingers tangled into the bed cover as she lay below me, and I pulled her legs tight against my ribs, jerking her closer to where I stood by her bed. Slamming into her with furious strokes.

Like I could fuck her into believing in me.

In the end, it undid me first. I lost total control of my mouth for a second.

“I love you.” The words left my throat before I’d even realized it, and my voice was harsh was passion. Caught up with the imminence of my release.

She stopped immediately, frozen solid below me.

“What?” she whispered.

I froze as well. My mind whirled with the implications of what I’d just said.

Oh fuck.

I told her I loved her.

As much as my mind instantly rebelled against the thought, I knew right then that I couldn’t deny it any longer, not even to myself. There was an intense emotional pull. Stronger than anything I’d ever known.

For fuck’s sake, I really did love her.

But, Jesus, I couldn’t admit it to her. Not yet. Not now. I wasn’t ready to say it any more than she was ready to hear it. Especially tonight after the bitches at the bar had upset her so badly. And, fuck, not in the middle of sex. Simply worst possible time to say something so profound.

Distract her. I had to distract her. Fuck.

So instead of answering, I fell ravenously upon her, kissing her with a brutal force. Surging back inside her with a merciless thrust that shot her groan deep in my throat. I continued to kiss her, to slam into her with everything I felt at the moment. A frenetic pace that drained my muscles and made my entire body ache with release.

“Bran—” Sophie breathed against my lips, “fuck, please.”

Still bewildered by what I’d said, still trying to force my words from her mind. I was shaken and furious, and had to do whatever I could to not talk about it. So I ran my fingers down her side, cupping her curvy little bottom and slipping one finger to thrust into her tight rear entrance.

That did it.

That little touch had her tossing her head back with a sharp cry. Her body lit up and her fingernails dug into my back. The sharp pain shot a savage thrill though me. A sensory blend of her gasp and her sweet pussy contracting around me. Her flushed cheeks and her warm, soft lips. Her scratching fingernails and her delirious cries. I moved harder, faster, relishing in the delicious slide of her sweetness pulling at my cock.

One last thought burst through my brain when I erupted inside her.

Fuck yeah, I loved her.

I just couldn’t let her know that.

So I spent the night literally fucking away any chance of discussion. Every time we stopped having sex, the minute the air started to prickle with the words I had said, the second she seemed like she was going to talk, I distracted her. I distracted myself. And I fucked her again.

Avoidance seemed to work. My bombshell seemed to be hovering in the air, steady in a weird, edgy way. And by the time we collapsed in exhaustion, we were both fully pretending that those three little words hadn’t been spoken at all.

I love you.

It was the first thing I thought of when I woke up. But the last think I wanted to remember.

Sophie shifted beside me, snuggling into me with a soft sigh. I felt her lashes brush against the skin of my neck. I looked around for something meaningless to discuss. Something to keep the conversation from turning to the words I more or less vomited out in the heat of passion.

I creaked my eyes open to focus on the bizarre fixture hanging from the ceiling.

“Sophie,” I mumbled, “baby, that’s the weirdest light I’ve ever seen.”

Sophie gave a faint exhausted chuckle and followed my gaze. “I had nothing to do with it,” she promised, and my racing heart calmed some. It seemed like she was going to let those words fade with the quiet dawn. “Nothing at all.”

“It’s very strange,” I said, still slightly cautious. Not entirely sure how to eradicate the vague tension that still lingered. “I’m not even sure how to describe it.”

“I always thought it looked like a piece of paper crumpled into a ball.”

“If I hadn’t been here once already, I’d have never expected your apartment to look like this.” I mused, looking around the sterile modern room. Just like the rest of her apartment, the décor wasn’t Sophie in the slightest. “Did they even ask you what you wanted?”

“No, my mother just told me how much she spent. How that light fixture was imported from Italy.” She frowned and pointed to a full-length mirror standing in the corner. “And that is a one-of-a-kind frame by someone she thinks is really important.”

“Luxury all around you,” I murmured, almost dejectedly. “I will admit, though, these sheets are nice.”

“I like yours better. To be honest… I don’t really like my apartment.” She smiled sadly. “It reminds me of my parents.”

I looked down at her, laying there in her zillion thread count sheets, surrounded by bedroom furniture that easily cost more than my pickup, and remembered her in my bed. Surrounded by my things. I was very much a bachelor, didn’t really have a lot, but the things I did have were sturdy and comfortable. Most of it was inherited from my grandpa and my mom.

But even though Sophie had lived surrounded by luxury her entire life, she had seemed more comfortable at my place than here.

“Did you have anything you needed to do today?” I asked, more than anything just wanting to get out of there, but with her. Anyplace but here and the echoes of words that shouldn’t have been voiced.

And, quite frankly, as overbearing and smothering as Sophie’s parents were, I was halfway surprised there weren’t cameras recording our every move. They would have gotten a show last night. I was a bit of an exhibitionist, but the thought of her bastard of a father watching us made me feel a bit ill inside.

“No, I’ve avoided any contact with my parents for a few days.” As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Sophie glanced up at me in alarm. “Oh, God, that’s probably my mother.”

“Just pretend we’re not here,” I suggested.

“She’s got a key,” Sophie frowned. “I better answer it.” She pulled away and climbed out of bed, reaching for a silky robe that enhanced every perfect curve and made me want to fuck her all over again. “Why don’t you get dressed? As soon as she’s gone, we’ll get out of here.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere but here,” she grimaced, and then stepped out of the room, closing the door behind her.

I pulled myself out of bed, groaning a little at the sore muscles from the night before. Feeling like something was definitely still a little off. Sophie was clearly jumpy, and that rattled me. I pulled on my jeans and had just grabbed my t-shirt when I heard a woman’s voice out in the living room.

“Oh, Sophie, thank goodness you’re here. I know things have been weird, but—”

“Alyssa, what are you doing here?”

Sophie’s voice sounded completely shocked. Who the fuck was Alyssa? Why did that name sound familiar?

Alyssa continued on in kind of a small, cutesy voice. One of those voices that sounded obnoxiously child-like. Voices like that drove me fucking batty. “—and I know this may be a touch indelicate, but… Sophie, I think he’s getting tired of me…”

“What are you talking about?” I heard Sophie ask.

“Richard, he just… he seems to be losing interest. I think maybe he still wants you and… oh, God, I’m losing my chance with him.”

Richard? Sophie’s ex? I thought back to a conversation with Sophie, back when she’d gotten her nose pierced. And it hit me. Alyssa was Sophie’s friend that had slept with Richard. I couldn’t even grasp the oddity of this conversation.

“Wait, what?” Sophie sounded as mystified as I was. “Let me get this straight…you think your boyfriend, my ex-fiancé, the same man you were sleeping with when you knew he was engaged to me, is losing interest in you.”

“Well, yes.”

“And you’re telling me because?”

“I thought maybe you could give me some advice since you dated him so long.”

I couldn’t take it anymore. I grabbed my shirt and headed for the living room.

“Jesus, are you on crack?” Sophie and Alyssa whirled around to see me storming bare-chested out of Sophie’s bedroom.

“Brannon,” Sophie gasped, “your shirt.”

“Sophie,” Alyssa squeaked, “who is this man?” She wrinkled her nose at me like I’d just crawled out of the gutter.

Sophie didn’t seem to know how to respond. “Um…”

And that did nothing to cool my temper. In fact, as unsettled as I had already felt, I was quickly becoming pretty fucking pissed off.

“I mean, look at him,” Alyssa said, clearly appalled. “What would he be doing in your apartment without a shirt on?”

Sophie looked back and forth between Alyssa and I, full-blown panic in her eyes. “He, um…” she stammered.

“Is he a maintenance man or something? Don’t they make them wear uniforms? I thought your parents paid top dollar for this place, and the maintenance men don’t even wear uniforms?”

I glared at Alyssa. “I’m not a maintenance man.”

But she continued on like I hadn’t even spoken. “Oh, do you have a leaky pipe or something? That might explain why he didn’t have a shirt on… if it had gotten wet or something.” She eyed Sophie’s little silky robe and her voice became hushed. Scandalized. “But, Sophie, shouldn’t you dress a little more appropriately when the maintenance man is here?”

“I’m not a maintenance man,” I growled again.

Sophie stood there gasping for breath, her eyes vivid with trepidation. “He’s… well… don’t tell my mother.”

As if on cue, a snooty, uptight voice spoke from the open door. “Don’t tell your mother what?”

“Mother!” Sophie squeaked.

“Good heavens, Sophia,” her mother spat, “you’re standing there half naked with the front door wide open.” She reached behind her to close the door firmly and then turned to frown at Sophie.

“Oh, God,” Sophie gasped, and she glanced back at me again, moving her mouth like she was trying to talk, but simply couldn’t figure out what to say. It was that motion that brought her mother’s attention to me.

“Oh, is this the new maintenance man?” Sophie’s mother spoke towards her shocked daughter, but stared down her nose at me. “I thought you were supposed to wear uniforms. My God, you don’t even have a shirt on. And tattoos? Piercings? This is simply disgraceful. I’m going to have a talk with the super.”

“Mother, wait,” Sophie stepped towards her, but I’d had it. I was at the end of my rope, so I figured I may as well hang myself.

“I’m not a fucking maintenance man!” I shouted.

“Young man, there’s no need for that kind of language.” she turned to Sophie. “Who is this rude wastrel?”

“A wastrel?” I echoed, then shot a dark look at the cold, austere woman. “Who the fuck says ‘wastrel’?”

“Well, I never,” Sophie’s mother gasped, looking away and seeing Alyssa standing there. “Oh good grief, Alyssa, too, Sophia? You know she’s after Richard.”

“Mother, I broke up with Richard,” Sophie murmured, her face a perfect reflection of her complete shock. Her panic at the inability to control this situation. Her confusion and inner conflict.

“And Richard will surely be horrified by this… this… trash in your apartment. Put your shirt on,” she sneered in my direction and crossed over to her daughter, pointing back at me. “Sophia, who is this ruffian?”

Sophie’s breathing had become erratic. Her face was flushed. “He, um…”

It suddenly hit me. She was embarrassed by me. Ashamed of me. Trying to figure out what someone like me would be doing here. Me with my tattoos and piercings. Me with my obvious blue-collar vibe that had everyone thinking I was a fucking maintenance man.

And, while I knew in my heart I could be overreacting, that realization pissed me off.

“Yeah, Sophie,” I growled, “who am I?”

“He’s…” she stuttered, looking at her mother, back to me, over to Alyssa, then back to me again, “well, he’s… a mechanic.”

A fucking mechanic? I’ve been banging her hard core for the last couple months, and she seriously just introduced me as a mechanic.

“A mechanic?” Sophie’s mother screeched. “Is something wrong with the BMW? Because this boy,” she looked at me and wrinkled her nose with distaste, “doesn’t look remotely qualified to even touch a luxury vehicle like that. We will just have it shipped to the dealer in Bozeman.”

Sophie shook her head. “There’s nothing wrong with the BMW, Mother.”

“Well, then,” her mother spit back, “what is this mechanic doing in your apartment?”

“Well, um…” Sophie looked back over at me, her eyes pleading for understanding. But I was so far gone. I just couldn’t give her that at the moment.

“Leaving,” I replied and turned to head towards the door. I wasn’t sure what I felt except that I knew I was furious. I was angry at Sophie. I was angry at her mom and her one-time-BFF.

But I was truly fucking pissed as hell at society as a whole for shoving me back down the social ladder. For making me feel like trash.

“Just a second, please,” I heard Sophie desperately tell her mother and Alyssa. Her footsteps sounded behind me as I reached for the door handle. “Brannon, wait.”

I whirled around, fuming. “For what, Sophie?”

“Don’t be mad, please,” she whispered, shaking her head. “Please, Bran.”

I stalked back to her and glared down at her. “Don’t be mad? Are you fucking kidding me? What the fuck was that, Sophie? You’ve told me countless times that you want to get away from that. You just had the opportunity of a fucking lifetime.”

“Oh my,” Sophie’s mother gasped from the living room. “What a horrid young man.”

“I can’t tell them,” she whispered as tears began to gather in her eyes, “not yet. They just… they won’t understand.”

“I’m not sure I do either,” I balked, making no attempt to keep my voice down. I closed in on her, forcing her to retreat up against the wall. My voice lowered to a harsh rumble. “I fucking told you I loved you.”

“But do you?” she asked in a hushed sob. “Or was that just because of Pauline and Laura last night?”

“What the fuck?” I was flabbergasted. That’s what she thought? That it was an empty platitude? “How does your mind come up with this shit?”

“You said it once… just one time in the middle of sex after a really crappy night. A lot of bullshit can come out of a person in the middle of sex. So how do I know it wasn’t a line? How do I know you meant it?”

“Of course I meant it,” I snapped.

“Then why didn’t you answer me when I asked you about it?” she snapped back in a low tone. “Instead of talking to me, you distracted me. You fucked me. And now you’re mad at me for not believing you?”

“Sophia,” her mother’s shrill voice rang down the hallway, “are you about done out there because we have to discuss this outrageous situation!”

“Just a minute, Mother,” Sophie pleaded.

“Back the fuck off,” I snapped as I scowled at the nasty woman.

“That’s it,” Sophie’s mother gasped, raising her nose in the air as she reached for her phone. “I’m calling the authorities.”

“Brannon,” she whispered, “please, this is going to be hard enough to smooth out as it is.”

“So don’t smooth it, Sophie,” I snarled. “Fight back.”

“And then what?” she asked in a quiet desperation. “Brannon, my parents support me. They pay my rent, my bills, everything. I can’t just drop a bomb like that on them. They’d disown me. I’d be homeless.”

“Then let me help you,” I said forcefully, grabbing her shoulders in a bruising grip. “You can stay with me, at my place. I’ll do—”

“But what do I do,” she interrupted, “when the novelty wears off?”

That stopped me cold. The novelty? This was a novelty?

“Brannon, right now, whatever this is between us is all new and wonderful.” A thick tear broke free from her eyes and trickled down her cheek. “And one night, in the midst of wild sex, you say you love me. But I’m not an idiot. Everything will go to shit sooner or later, and you know that as well as I do.”

“Fuck me, Sophie,” I gaped. “Are you serious?”

“I know exactly what I am. It’s like Pauline and Laura said. I’m hot and rich. I’m a pretty face. But I’m no better than the rest of them. And everyone knows I won’t hold your attention for long.”

I was simply shocked by what Sophie was saying, by how she felt. I felt like something had short-circuited in my head. This had seemed so much more than that to me. She had seemed like so much more to me.

But she was making it very clear. It was temporary. A dalliance.

She had no fucking faith in me. No faith in us.

“Sophia,” her mother’s abrasive voice screeched towards the front door.

“Your mother is calling,” I coldly uttered as I slipped my shirt over my head, “so you should go. Don’t want to keep her waiting.”

“Bran—” she whispered, shaking her head.

“Go smooth things over, Sophie,” I said, opening the door to head down the hall. A few feet away from her, I glanced back over my shoulder. “Just let me know what your story is so I know what to expect.”

She called just over two hours later.

I let the first one go to voicemail, but she didn’t leave a message.

I was still pissed and not sure exactly what pissed me off. I should have expected it. I should have seen it coming. She was Sophie Buchanan.

And I was her plaything.

So I suppose it pissed me off that I wasn’t more. That all the time we’d spent together hadn’t meant more to her. She’d always pretended it didn’t matter, but it was clear now that she didn’t see us going anywhere because of our places in the class system.

So I couldn’t answer the first time she called. Then I sat on the edge of my seat, my heart in my throat, waiting for her to call again. About forty minutes after the first call, she did. This time I answered.

“Hey,” I said, accepting the call.

“Hi,” she softly replied. Then quiet.

I clenched my teeth and felt the passage of time. I felt the silence cutting my insides to ribbons. Was this it? Was this the end that she had prophesized?

“Brannon, I’m so sorry about all that this morning,” she finally said. “With my mother and Alyssa.”

“Did you get things sorted out?” I asked with a cool calm. A calm I definitely didn’t feel. My heart was racing. I’d broken out into a cold sweat and could barely breathe. Had she told them the truth?

“I told them that I knew you,” she whispered. “That we were… friends.”

The sickening feeling in my gut grew and tangled sharply. Through my rib cage and around my lungs in a painful twist.

“Friends,” I muttered harshly.

“Bran, I don’t know what to say,” she replied in a fragile voice.

The anger I’d felt earlier, the rejection and the shame, began to heat my blood once again. “I think you’re saying a lot right now, Sophie.”

I heard a shaky breath through the phone line, a slight sniffle. And I felt a strange sense of achievement that this was hurting her.

Because, quite honestly, she was killing me.

“Brannon, please don’t,” she whispered at long last. “Don’t be mad.”

Don’t be mad? Fucking hell, I sort of wanted to put my head through a wall at the moment. To beat the shit out of something or someone.

“Talk to me,” she pleaded with a quiet sob.

“This phone thing is shit, Sophie,” I said. “Are you home? I’ll stop by.”

“I am, but,” she hesitated, “I’m supposed to meet my parents for dinner at the Uptown in a little bit.”

Her parents, I thought. Great. That’s what she needed… more time with them.

“Maybe after?” she asked. “I could come by your place as soon as I’m done.”

I clenched my jaw, trying to keep myself calm. “What time?” I asked.

“I’m supposed to meet them at five-thirty,” she answered, “so maybe seven-thirty? Eight o’clock?”

Part of me wanted to tell her I wouldn’t be home. That I’d be out with the guys, getting drunk and getting laid.

Forgetting her.

But I couldn’t. I just… couldn’t.

“I’ll be home,” I said softly and ended the call.

I sat in my living room and watched the clock until six-twenty-five. It was pure torture. I couldn’t wait anymore.

The scene at her apartment kept churning through my head, replaying her reactions, her words in the hallway. And suddenly, like a bolt of lightning, it hit me.

She needed me to fight for her. For us.

She couldn’t stand up to her parents alone, and I’d completely let her down with the way I reacted. I had gotten pissed at her for being scared. Of course she was terrified. Why wouldn’t she be? She’d never been alone before. She’d never had to take care of herself.

With a burst of chivalry, I came to a rash decision. I’d go down to the Uptown. I’d confront her parents. I’d tell them, and I’d tell Sophie, how much I loved her. How much I needed her with me. They could accept me or not, but she had to know how I felt. She had to know that this wasn’t just some flash in the pan. That I wasn’t going to lose interest.

That I was in this for the long haul.

I jumped in my pickup and made the twenty-minute drive to Butte in fifteen minutes. Once I got to town, I somehow hit every green light. The gods were in my favor or some shit, because there was even a parking space just down from the front door, and I flew out of my truck before the engine had even totally shut down.

The little fucking pansy-ass maître d at the front door tried to stop me. He said something about me needing a reservation or some shit, and I just pushed him aside and made my way into the dining area.

And I stopped dead.

Because there she was. Sophie. Sitting there, lovely as ever.

But her parents were nowhere to be seen. She was with her dickhead ex. And that fucker had a ring.

She was listening to him as he spoke, her head tipped towards him to hear his hushed voice. She looked down at the ring, then back up to him. He said something else, and she reached for it, holding it between her thumb and forefinger, studying it in the dimly lit restaurant.

And then I saw red as she slipped the ring onto her finger.

It felt like it was all happening in slow motion. All my life, I’d thought myself an emotionless bastard, but right then swore I heard my heart crack wide open, exploding through my chest. I felt the heated rise of blood rush to my face, and my whole body just… reacted.

In a second, I had crossed the room and pulled that fucker from his chair.

“Oh, God,” he groaned, “not you again.”

I saw Richard’s surprise turn into a flash of fear as I pushed him backwards across the room. He stumbled into another table and fell to the ground. I heard Sophie scream my name, felt her hand gripping my arm, as she pleaded with me to stop.

She was telling me to go.

“What the fuck is going on, Sophie?”

“Nothing,” she cried.

“Nothing? Are you fucking kidding me?” I grabbed her hand, the hand that now bore a sparkling little diamond ring. “What the fuck is this then?”

“Brannon, please,” she began, her voice filled with sheer panic, “it’s not what you think.”

“Not what I think? Sophie, I just watched this motherfucker give you a ring!” I roared.

I felt arms pulling me back, the hushed voice of a waiter telling me to leave before they called the authorities.

“Brannon, you need to get out of here,” Sophie begged, almost hysterical with a frantic urgency. “I’ll come to your apartment as soon as I’m done here. I’ll come explain, but, please… I don’t want you to get in trouble. They’re going to call the police.”

“You want me to fucking go?!” I bellowed, completely shocked that she was going to stay here with the dickhead. “I don’t fucking believe this, Sophie.”

“Brannon, please—”

“Don’t bother,” I snarled, and jerked my arm away from her desperate grasp. “Just fucking stay here with the dick, Sophie. I don’t fucking care anymore.”

I rounded quickly, and the waiter shrunk back from my murderous glare. I heard him behind me, murmuring something about calling the cops.

“Please don’t,” I heard Sophie say. “I’ll pay for the damages, just don’t. Please…”

“Sophie,” the dickhead groaned, and I quickly glanced back at the wreckage behind me. Sophie saw me turn, and started to walk towards me, but Richard reached for her arm. “Where are you going?”

“Just a second, Richard,” she said, placing her hand on his chest. “Please, just stay here for a second. I’ll be right back.”

That cut into me. Seeing her touch him gently. That familiarity. It severed the last shred of hope in my heart. The last thought that she had ever planned to be with me.

She’d been fucking playing me all along, making herself out to be the bored little rich girl. I’d been a distraction. A diversion from the mundane perfection of her life.

I fucking loved her, and she was planning to marry that cocksucker. She wore the ring to prove it.

I furiously stormed from the dining room and out the front door. I heard her rushing after me, the sharp alarm in her voice.

“Brannon, wait,” she cried.

I whirled around, catching her shoulders in a crushing grip and pushing her hard up against the building. “For what, Sophie? What the fuck could you possibly say that could make any of this okay?”

“You don’t understand—”

“You’re fucking right, I don’t.” Reaching down for her left hand, I yanked it up into the light between us. “You’re fucking wearing his ring!”

“It’s not—”

“Bullshit, Sophie,” I roared, shaking with the blood-red fury that raged through me. “I saw the fucker give it to you. I saw you slip it on your motherfucking finger!”

“Bran—”

“And all this shit, all this about how you’ll pay for the damages? You’re just like your fucking parents, using money and influence to sweep trash like me under the rug.”

“Brannon, stop,” she begged, tears running down her cheeks, “you don’t understand.”

“I understand that you’re just a bored little rich girl who played me like a fucking violin. So you finally chose the money, huh? It was only a matter of time.”

“No—” she whispered, shaking her head back and forth. “No, Brannon—”

“Don’t fucking call me. Don’t come to my fucking place. You’re just another piece of ass, and I’ve got a lot more where you came from.”

“You don’t mean that.” Her voice was small and tight, raspy with emotion.

“You were a good fuck, Sophie,” I snarled, “but you weren’t that good.”

I pushed her firmly against the wall again, holding her steady, and then let go and backed away, off into the dark night.

She didn’t call.

She didn’t come to my place.

True to form, Sophie did exactly as she was told.

The days following the scene at the Uptown were bleak. Empty.

I was angry and, if I was honest with myself, I was hurt. Although I sure as fuck didn’t admit that to anyone. Because heartless fuckers like me don’t get hurt.

My sister came by my apartment after I stopped taking her calls. Anyone’s calls. I lay there drunk and brooding in my bedroom with the curtains drawn, wallowing in the darkness and the fury I still felt every time I closed my eyes to see Sophie slip that ring on her finger.

That vision was accompanied by a brutal, cruel torment, twisting through my guts at how easily I’d believed her lies.

Poor little rich girl. All alone. She had said she liked me because I was different. That she didn’t want her world, she wanted to be in mine.

But it was all about her naughty bucket list. I was just a fucking amusement park to her, taking her on one hell of a ride, all the while thinking that she might actually choose me in the end.

I didn’t answer the door when Mira knocked. I didn’t know it was her, but I wouldn’t have answered even if I had. Unfortunately, then I heard a key in the lock.

Fuck.

“Brannon?” her voice sounded in my living room.

I lay there quietly, barely breathing with my blankets pulled up over my head, hoping she’d think I wasn’t home and would just go away.

“Brannon?” This time, she spoke from my bedroom doorway, looking in at the mound of blankets I was hiding under. I heard her step closer, then felt the weight of her sitting on my bed. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Mira,” I flatly replied. “I just want to be alone.”

“What happened?” she asked, ignoring my request.

“I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to be alone.”

“Cody called me. He’s worried about you. Said you haven’t been into the shop. Said none of the guys have heard from you in days.”

“I don’t want to see anyone right now.”

“Can I do something?” I didn’t respond, and Mira was quiet for a moment. “Have you eaten?”

I finally flipped the blanket down to glare at her.

“You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?” I growled.

Her worried frown kicked into high gear as she studied me closely. I must have looked like complete shit. I’d done nothing, nothing at all, in days. I’d not been to work. I’d not showered. I’d not eaten.

All I had done was lay in the quiet darkness of my room with a couple bottles of Jameson and let the anger and pain fester until I felt like I was going to explode.

“You’re my baby brother. I’m worried about you.” Her voice was small and cautious. “You’ve never… Grampa’s shop. It’s everything to you.”

I turned away, closing my eyes and pinching the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger.

“I don’t know what happened, Bran. I don’t know what she did to you. She’s not worth this, though,” Mira softy said. “And there are people who miss you. People who need you.”

Just not Sophie, I thought.

After a lot of prodding, endless nagging, and swirling guilt for making her worry about me, Mira managed to get me to leave the cave of my bitter dejection. She managed to get me to eat something and made me promise to come to dinner that night. I sort of felt like I needed a night with her family like I needed a hole in the head. Seeing her and her husband together, happily ever after, was going to sting a little. And the decibels that were sure to come from her rambunctious boys were likely to do me in for good.

But, instead, it was oddly comforting, something to remind me that I was still alive. Something to kick me in the ass so I could move on past Sophie and her manipulative deceit.

I was Brannon fucking Forrester. This shit didn’t happen to guys like me.

Over the next couple days, I tried to get back to who I was. Before Sophie.

B.S.

It seemed fitting to refer to it as that because it was totally bullshit, the idea that I could forget her. But, fuck, I tried. I drank until I puked. I smoked weed like a motherfucker. I started an all-out brawl in the Copperline when someone bumped into me and spilled my drink.

After a few weeks of that, of trying to live in a stupor that would dull the anguish, shit hit the fan at the Mofos’ place. The house boomed with the usual revelry that followed a show. I’d been hitting the scotch steadily since about noon, and all the happy-fucking-go-lucky bastards around me were really pissing me off.

How dare all those fuckers have fun while I was miserable?

I was drunk as a skunk and looking for a fight. At one point, I got more than a little mouthy, and Justin told me to go get laid so I’d quit acting like a little bitch. I just about put him through the fucking wall. Then Denny went all girl on me and asked me if I was okay.

It was in that moment that I realized I had to take that one last step. The one I’d been dreading. I had to move on. I had to find someone who was soft and sweet and willing to fuck Sophie right out of my system.

A hand touched my arm. Small and petite, slender fingers with perfectly polished nails. I closed my eyes for a minute and prayed like a motherfucker that I’d open them to see Sophie.

But the eyes that looked up at me weren’t the brilliant crystal blue-green. The hair didn’t fall in blonde waves around her shoulders.

It wasn’t Sophie, but Vivienne.

“You need to relieve a little stress, honey,” she whispered. “Let me help you.”

I was drunk. Beyond drunk, really, barely able to stand. I stumbled along behind her as she pulled me back to the equipment room. She nudged me inside and closed the door.

Then she pushed me to sit on the couch and pulled her tight little dress off, revealing nothing underneath. Kneeling on the floor before me, she loosened my jeans, and started sucking my dick.

I watched all this as though it was happening to someone else. Viv was talented. I’ll give her that. She knew how to work her tongue. She knew how to moan just so, in a way that the vibrations from her throat would ripple so deliciously along the head. She stroked and sucked and licked. She’d been after me for a long time, and it seemed like she wasn’t going to waste the opportunity.

But even though she could have probably sucked the bacon out of a pig, she wasn’t Sophie. My eyes drifted closed to see Sophie’s face. Sophie’s eyes. In my mind, it was Sophie’s lips on my cock. I could almost pretend. As drunk as I was, I could almost believe.

The familiar tide of release began to rise. The swelling of my balls and the blood rushing through my veins. A deep ragged moan emanated from my throat and echoed through the quiet room.

“Fuck,” I groaned in a delirious whisper, “that’s it, baby. That’s it, Soph.”

The motion on my dick stopped for a second, just a moment, as the mouth lifted. “I’ll take it,” I heard a strange, distant voice say. “I’ll be Sophie for you tonight, honey.”

And she was. In that moment, my mind refused to believe anything else. I shut out all the sounds around me. I completely ignored everything else in the world but those lips that expertly brought Sophie’s ghost back to me.

Then, all hell broke loose. The door flew open, slamming against the wall with a crash.

And Sophie stood there.

The real flesh and blood Sophie, not an apparition. She was silhouetted by the lights of the hallway behind her, horrified at what she saw before her.

“Oh, God.”

Sophie’s quiet whisper could barely be heard. Just a gasp, hardly even a sound.

“Sophie,” my voice grated harsh with surprise, thick with lust. I was on the verge of my first orgasm in weeks, so close to shooting my wad down Vivienne’s throat, and the agony of having that stopped about killed me. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Vivienne lifted her head and turned to see Sophie standing in the open door. She deliberately licked her lips and smiled, doing nothing to hide her nudity.

Sophie’s look of shock shifted to a mixture of anger and shame. She didn’t say another word, just looked accusingly at me as my gut began to twist with a dreadful regret.

Denny just kind of stared at me for a minute, like he was trying to figure out just what to say. He had his arm around Sophie’s waist, frozen in the act of trying to pull her back into the hallway, to get her out of there.

“Well, if it isn’t our little Sophie, huh, Brannon,” Vivienne murmured with a husky intonation. “Do you want to join us, sweetheart? I’m willing to share, just like I was before.”

Sophie just stared at me, her attention riveted to my face. Her eyes stormy with accusation.

How dare she be upset with me? I thought. She had played me. She had lied to me and used me. And now she was upset?

Vivienne smiled as she rose from her knees and settled her naked body on my lap, pressing her naked tits against my cheek. She wrapped one arm around my shoulders and skated her fingers down my chest and abs. Then she closed them tightly around my dick. I hissed a sharp gasp as she began to stroke it, unashamed and unabashed.

“He’s got such a beautiful cock, doesn’t he? And it tastes so fucking good,” she taunted, and a quiet sob broke through Sophie’s stricken features. “We could suck him together, you and I. Or I could eat your pussy while he fucks me from behind.”

Sophie closed her eyes and turned towards Denny. The slight movement jolted him into action and he pulled her back into the hallway and shut the door behind them.

Vivienne looked back at me, and shrugged nonchalantly. “I guess it’s just you and me, Brannon.” She lowered her head and began to kiss me, kneading my dick in an attempt to draw me back into her web. She reached into the purse she’d tossed on the couch, and pulled out a condom. Spreading her legs to straddle me, she tore open the package and grabbed a hold of my dick to sheathe me.

In my own intoxicated state of shock, I almost let her. Part of me wanted to, if for no other reason than to block the muffled voices in the hallway.

But I couldn’t erase the sounds.

“This is what he does, Sophie,” I heard Denny’s filtered voice say through the door. “He’s been a hoor for ages, doesn’t get attached. Never has. Not until you.”

“Oh, I can see how attached he is,” she scoffed back at him harshly. The sheer anguish in her voice cut me to the bone.

“Sophie, you’re right different. I don’t know wha—”

“Whatever, Denny. I don’t fucking care. He’s done with me, fine. I’ll just go fuck someone else.”

Vivienne’s teeth were tugging at my earlobe, toying with the ring, and her hand smoothed the latex down my cock as she brushed the tip against her clit. And it was sorta pissing me off because, even though I really didn’t want to, I had to hear what was going on out in the hallway.

“Feckin’ Jaysus, Sophie,” Denny retorted, “he cares about you.”

“He was just a lay, Denny,” Sophie yelled back. “Where’s Justin? I’ve fucked him before, I’ll just go fuck him again.”

No way. Fuck that! Not Justin. Not here. She didn’t get to be here. This was my place, my friends. The ghost of Sophie had to fucking go.

I picked up Vivienne and roughly tossed her to the side as I stood. Whipping off the condom, I barely had my dick tucked back into my jeans by the time I hit the door. The hallway was empty, and I barreled into the great room, pushing my way through the crowd until…

There she was, ripping her arm away from Denny and heading towards Justin where he leaned against the counter. Three steps. It took her three steps to reach him, a split second to wrap her arms around his neck, and then she was kissing him. His shock melted into a deep moan when she turned her head to deepen the kiss, begging for a response, and he complied and began to kiss her back voraciously, mindless of the tears that poured down her cheeks.

“Sophie,” Denny gruffly muttered off to the side, reaching for her arm, “not a good idea.”

Justin raised his head a touch to murmur, “Fuck off, Denny,” and his lips fell back upon Sophie’s as he slipped his arms down past her waist and slipped his hand under her skirt to cup her ass.

A red haze had been building in my vision, a violent anger that I had never even imagined, much less felt. With the nightmarish vision before my eyes, it intensified and glared white, blinding me to everything but my burning emotion.

The sound didn’t register with me at first, as though the haze of fury had muffled it, but the roar came from my own throat. I shoved my way through the crowd and ripped Sophie away from Justin. Her lips still wet from his kiss, Sophie panted back at me as I slammed her up against the wall, holding her up against it for a second by the flat of my hand across her breastbone. Her tear-filled eyes shot a furious glare at me before I turned back to Justin and clocked him square in the jaw. He fell back into the crowd in a clumsy stupor.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Brannon!” he growled as he stood, gingerly cupping his jaw. “What the fuck was that for?”

“She’s mine, motherfucker,” I growled and started at him again.

Justin met me halfway and lurched forward, pushing me back with his fists flying as the crowd around us backed away. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Denny tugging at Sophie’s arm, trying to draw her away. But, unlike everyone else who was pulling back, she stepped forward and reached for me.

“Stop it, Brannon,” she shrieked.

But I was too intent on beating the ever-loving hell out of Justin. That motherfucker had touched her. I’d told him before that she was mine, that he was never to touch her again. Yet he had, and I used my anger to throw him back up against the wall with a crash. In return, he stepped forward and landed a solid punch to my eye, a blow that stunned me. I fell back for a second into a window that shattered as I hit it with my shoulder. Scraped and bleeding, I lunged for him yet again. The swinging fists and hefty shoves were only separated by angry words.

“She came on to me, you fucker! She wants me.” Justin yelled.

Thud!

“Fuck off!” I bellowed back. “You’ve wanted her this whole time.”

Crash.

“You’re just pissed that she got tired of you,” Justin countered.

I felt and then saw Sophie trying to push in between us, trying to separate us, and heard Denny shout out her name as he yanked her back yelling for Cody and Drew to pull Justin and I apart.

I struggled against Cody’s firm grip as Sophie attempted to jerk out of Denny’s hold, flushed with a white hot fury that flashed in her eyes.

“Fuck you, Brannon,” she whispered as she finally bucked free. She stepped closer to me, and her voice grew louder, the tone turning harsh and bitter. “Fuck you. I hate you, you son of a bitch.” Denny kept attempting to guide her back, but she resisted him, yanking away in her rage as her voice gradually rose to a scream. “Go back and fuck Vivienne, you fucking piece of trash. You don’t get to say who gets me.”

I shook my head and bellowed back at her. “I may be trash, but you picked me that night, Soph. Out of every motherfucker in the whole party, you picked me. There has to be a reason.”

“I wanted to fuck someone,” she screamed back. “I wanted meaningless post breakup sex, and you were an easy lay. I could tell looking at you that you were nothing but a dirty manwhore. And that was all I wanted.”

“That’s bullshit!” I thundered.

“It’s true,” she cried, shaking her head furiously. “I was looking for someone to fuck, somebody who was a sure thing. Somebody meaningless I could use.”

Denny stepped in between her and I, one hand on each of us, doing his best to keep her back away from me.

Sophie raged on, pushing into his hand. “My only mistake was thinking you had it in you to be anything more than that!” she yelled. “Don’t you ever fucking talk to me again. I fucking hate you, you heartless slut. I hope you catch some nasty disease from the cesspool of pussy you’re sleeping with.”

With that, she wrenched away from Denny and shoved her way to the door, making her escape. But I wasn’t letting this go. I wasn’t letting her go without imparting my own two cents.

I ripped out of Cody’s grasp, shoving Denny hard as he tried to stop me.

“Brannon,” he hollered, “don’t, ya bloody fool—”

Ignoring him, I ran down the porch steps, into the bitter cold night after Sophie as she headed for her car. I grabbed her arm and whipped her around to face me.

“What was I supposed to do, huh?” I roared. “Should I stop living my life and just fucking sit around hoping you’ll come slumming again?”

“What the hell does that mean?” she yelled back, trying to pull her arm from my grasp.

“Like you were ever gonna fucking stick around. You went back to where you belong, to your fucking fiancé. To your perfect little life. To that fucking ivory tower where you can just exist in that empty little head of yours.”

Suddenly, Sophie came at me like she was possessed, slapping her hands against my chest. Unintelligible words poured from her throat as she unleashed all the vicious rage that had stored up in her mind. All the anger and fear and loneliness, the emotion she had never been able to show, shattered and burst forth in a violent torrent. She fought against the hands that tried to hold her back, screaming like she had completely lost her mind, like her mask had shattered to reveal the visceral pain she held inside.

And the next thing I knew, shouting filled the air. Sophie and I were ripped brutally apart and I was slammed to the snow-covered ground. It was only then that I noticed the red and blue lights flashing along the house and around the yard. The body holding me down wore a uniform, and I numbly watched another officer placing handcuffs on Sophie as I felt the cold slide of metal surround my own wrists.

The door just outside my cell buzzed, and I watched through the bars as an officer opened it and strode by. Footsteps echoed down the hallway and stopped a ways down.

“Sophie Buchanan?” the officer asked. A moment of quiet, and then he spoke again. “Come on out, sweetheart. Your father is here. You’re free to go.”

“Figures…” the bitter voice of another woman muttered.

“Yeah,” another spat, “diamonds like those ones she’s wearing, nobody is gonna leave her in here for long. Spoiled little rich bitch.”

God only knew what kind of scum she was locked up with. Probably methheads. Someone who wouldn’t take too kindly to being locked up with the aura of wealth that surrounded Sophie.

Part of me hoped they’d left her alone even though I didn’t want to care. About anything, really.

With a jingle of the officer’s keys and the click of the lock, I heard the door swing open and then slam shut again. Resonant footsteps echoed back towards the entrance, right in front of my cell. Mechanically, I looked up to see her standing there behind him as they waited to be buzzed through to the next room.

Sophie was pale, her eyes downcast. Like an idiot, I stared at her while she waited listlessly. Just as the door buzzed, she turned her gaze to me, her affect flat and lifeless. She seemed… broken.

Her hair fell forward in her bloodshot eyes, and thick smears of makeup trailed down her cheeks.

Nothing inside her. No emotion. She didn’t even look like she hated me.

But I could still hear her screaming that she did. I could hear the echoes of her fury and mine pounding in my head. There was suddenly a huge division between us. An insurmountable gulf that seemed to expand when I thought of the awful things we’d said to each other.

So I kept my own expression vacant, unwilling to show her how much she was ripping me apart. I swallowed hard to ease the thick lump in my throat, and watched as she dropped her eyes and followed the officer through the open door.

Denny showed up about a half hour after Sophie left. He’d scraped together some bail money from the other guys. Aside from telling me that their neighbors had called the cops when they heard the fight and saw the broken window, he was very quiet as he drove through the gray morning. Most of the most recent snowfall had melted, and the world around me was a dirty slush.

Sort of felt appropriate.

“We’re playing tonight,” Denny said, “but you don’t have to help out if you’re not up to it.” He clenched his jaw and gave me a sidelong look. “You and Justin should have a chat, though, now that you’re both sober.”

“I was a dick,” I muttered.

“You were,” Denny replied.

I nodded and looked out the window. “Is he home?”

“He was when I left,” he said. “Black eye and all after ya flattened him. Matches yours, actually. You guys are twins or some shite like.”

“My truck’s still there, right?”

“Yep.”

I drew in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “Is that where we’re going?”

“Yep.”

Justin sat hunched over a cup of coffee when I walked through the door and dropped a bag of Hardee’s biscuits on the table before him.

“What the fuck is that?” he groaned.

“Peace offering,” I replied flatly. “I was a dick.”

“Yeah,” he replied, “you were.” He took a long sip of his coffee. “We both were, though. I knew, Brannon… I knew she meant a lot to you.”

My jaw clenched, not out of anger but rather to cover the rawness of that empty loss. I just, quite simply, felt like complete and utter shit without her. When I thought of her. When I thought of that desolate look in her eyes as she walked out of that cell block and, more than likely, out of my life for the very last time.

“Doesn’t matter,” I shook my head. “Bros before hos.”

“Bullshit,” Justin said. “I’d drop you all like a ton of bricks if I had someone like her in my bed.”

That sorta did make me angry, and Justin evidently saw it. The fucker even smiled at my scowl. “Not her, though,” he said dryly. “She was all about you, man.”

“Nah,” I dismissed, “she was all about money. She was born a rich bitch. I was a distraction.”

Denny handed me a cup of coffee, then held up a bottle of Jameson to see if I wanted a dose in my cup. I shook my head and pulled out a chair. The last thing I wanted was booze.

I sort of just wanted to wallow in my misery for a while. To learn from it. Love wasn’t for me, that much had been clear for a long time. I’d forgotten. I’d forgotten how much it could hurt to lose someone.

As I nursed my coffee, Justin reached in the bag and pulled out a couple biscuits, dealing the extras out to Denny and I like cards in a poker game.

We didn’t say much. We were dudes after all. Dudes don’t share and get all mushy about shit. We just sat there and ate our biscuits. The air around us slowly eased up. We gradually let the fucked up night before fade away.

I did help with the Mofos’ equipment that night, but I hung out backstage. I didn’t want to really see anyone. I sure as fuck didn’t want to get hit on. It happened anyway. Ruth and Laura caught me at the back door, oohing and ahhing about the drama from the night before. Asking if I needed someone to help soothe my nerves.

I almost thought about it for about half a second. Sensing my indecision, Ruth leaned into me. “If you’re having a hard time deciding between us, maybe… both of us?”

But then I thought about how jealous I’d gotten during that ménage with Justin. How needy Laura had gotten with me before. How Laura and Pauline had verbally attacked Sophie. And how I was actually still kinda pissed about that, even though I shouldn’t be.

And just like that, I saw Sophie’s face again. Clear as day, I saw her disillusionment at seeing me with Vivienne. The dead vacant stare when I’d last seen her.

Yeah, I so wasn’t ready to go off and fuck anyone. I wanted to be, but the thought of it actually kind of turned my stomach. The way I felt right then and there, it was going to be a long time before I would be up to that shit.

“I don’t think so, ladies,” I politely declined. I wasn’t a total asshole, just kind of one as I pulled Ruth’s hand from my chest and turned her back down the hallway. “You might want to check with Justin, though. He had a shit night last night, too. He could probably use some TLC even more than me.”

Laura raised an eyebrow and frowned, but didn’t object when Ruth led her away.

As we loaded up the last of the equipment, Ruth and Laura piled into Justin’s pickup. Handing the last of the cords to Denny, Justin turned and slapped me on the shoulder with a grin. “I owe you, man,” he laughed.

Denny and Cody chuckled, and I just shook my head.

“Go get ‘em, tiger,” I snorted dryly, then headed to my truck to go home.

All alone.

My apartment seemed quieter than ever before. Almost an echoing silence, as weird as that seemed. I tossed my keys on the counter and looked around. Empty beer bottles, not totally empty bottles of whiskey and vodka. I’d been on a bit of a bender in the last few weeks, drinking breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Like that kid I’d once been, trying to forget my mom, I’d done the same more recently trying to forget Sophie.

I looked at the clock. It was just shy of three in the morning, and I knew I should go to sleep. My mind was wired, though. Every time I stopped focusing on something, all I could see was Sophie. Good and bad. Right and wrong. Sophie’s smile. Sophie’s fury. Sophie’s passion. Sophie’s pain.

Stepping into the kitchen, I lifted the vodka and unscrewed the lid, holding it for a moment trying to decide if the cloud of escape was worth the price of falling apart all over again.

In the end, I poured it down the sink. Then the whiskey. I started cleaning up my little kitchen, then my living room. I moved to the bathroom and began to clear off the counter. As I tossed my toothpaste into the top drawer of my cabinet, I saw a faint flash of an aqua blue toothbrush.

Sophie’s toothbrush.

Like a complete fucking douche, I pulled it out of the drawer and practically cradled it in my hand, almost cuddling the fucker.

I suddenly wished I hadn’t just dumped out all my booze.

A fierce surge of agony ripped through me, and I wanted to throw it away. I wanted it out of my apartment.

I wanted her out of my mind.

But, instead, I laid it gently back in the drawer. And it stayed there. The next day. The day after. Every morning and every night when I brushed my teeth, I saw it there. I thought of Sophie… and I missed her. I told myself to throw that fucking toothbrush away.

But I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

“You brought me a fucking Christmas tree?” I stared at Mira like she’d lost her mind as she stood in my doorway with a sad-looking, waist-high scotch pine.

“Yep, ornaments, too, you damn Scrooge,” she replied, holding out a bag of ornaments in the other hand. “And watch your language.”

I glared at her, not taking the tree or the ornaments.

“Brannon, come on,” she coaxed. “You went from being a party boy to a work-a-holic in a matter of a month. No life. You need a little cheer.”

“So you brought me a dead tree?”

Mira shoved the tree into my chest and pushed past me. “Yes,” she replied, setting the ornaments on my couch and pushing an end table to sit in front of my apartment window. She pulled the curtains open to reveal lightly falling snowflakes illuminated by the streetlights. “The snow is so pretty, and it made me realize that you probably won’t do shit like this for yourself.” Stepping back, she eyed the table, then nudged it a little to center it before the window. “Okay, this will do just fine,” she nodded.

I rolled my eyes and kicked the door closed behind me as I followed her over by the window.

“I don’t have a stand, genius,” I grumbled.

Mira dug through the bags to come up with a medium-sized bright red bucket and a big bag of some weird glassy-looking rocks. She set the bucket on the table and motioned at the tree.

“Just stick it in the bucket and hold it straight.”

I’d learned long ago that my older sister could do all kinds of shit to make my life miserable, so I did as she said, holding the tree while she poured the rocks in the bucket to hold it upright. Finally feeling secure that it would stay standing, she marched into my kitchen for a pitcher of water which she poured in the base.

“Okay,” she said firmly, “there are some lights in one of those bags. Get them out and let’s decorate this puppy.”

I hated to admit it, but Mira was kind of right. It seemed strange, but the sparkling lights cast a warm glow through my relatively dismal apartment and, as we decorated, the snow began to fall more heavily, blanketing the world outside. Very picturesque. The last thing Mira pulled from the bag was a package of cocoa mix.

“Did you bring any booze for that?” I asked sardonically, raising my eyebrow.

“Are you too much of a man to drink straight cocoa, Brannon?” she chided.

“I’m not four, Mira,” I grumbled.

“Humor me,” she shot back as she went into the kitchen to heat some water in the microwave.

As my sister and I sat on the couch sipping cocoa, watching the sparkling lights and the snowflakes falling, she started nosing around in my business.

“So,” she began, “what’s up?”

I cast a suspicious look in her direction.

She pursed her lips and pointedly glared back at me. “Is it that Sophie chick?”

Nail on the fucking head. But I didn’t want to talk about it. I just wanted to forget. I looked down and took a sip of my cocoa. “It’s none of your business.”

“I heard a little about what happened,” she said quietly. “You couldn’t keep it in your pants.”

“God, don’t… you’re my sister.”

“Your sister who practically raised you after Mom died,” she shot back. “So is that what happened? You cheated on her?”

“She did walk in on me with someone,” I finally admitted, “but we’d already… it was already over. She’s marrying someone on the same rung of the social ladder.”

“She’s marrying someone already?” Mira asked in surprise.

“She told me she’d broken up with him, but I watched him give her a ring.”

“Why did she take the ring if she’d broken up with him?”

“I didn’t ask. I didn’t have to.”

“You didn’t ask? You just…” Mira paused for a minute, knitting her brow in confusion. “What did you do, then? If you didn’t ask.”

“Threw him across the Uptown.”

Mira’s jaw fell open. “Brannon—”

“He gave her a fucking ring. I stood there and watched as she slid it on her finger. A sparkly little diamond.”

“Little?” she asked. “How little?”

I blew out an exasperated sigh. “All I saw was a fucking rock. I don’t know.”

She held out her left hand, displaying her own wedding ring set. “Bigger? Smaller?”

“I didn’t measure it, Mira,” I muttered. “About the same size, I guess.”

“Hmm…” she thoughtfully said, pursing her lips and looking back at her own ring. “I thought these guys were all loaded.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I asked.

“That whole bunch. Her parents. Her ex.” She shook her head. “They’re all flash, big glitzy rocks.”

“Whatever,” I scoffed, “it was clearly an engagement ring.”

“And you didn’t talk to her?” she asked raising an accusing eyebrow.

Shit. She was totally going somewhere with this.

“She made her choice.”

“Right,” Mira shrugged. “So, you just went and fucked someone else?”

“I didn’t fuck someone else,” I retorted. “Not that it’s any of your business, but she just gave me head.”

Mira held up her hand and twisted her features in disgust. “Oh my God, TMI, Brannon. But that doesn’t really make it any better, you know.” Her eyes softened. “Not if she loved you.”

“Well, she didn’t fucking love me,” I harshly spat and glared at my sister. “You know, if you’re trying to make me feel better, you’re doing a really shitty job of it.”

Mira opened her mouth to impart more big sisterly words of wisdom, but was interrupted by a quiet knock at my apartment door. Tossing another owly look her way, I thumped my cocoa down on the coffee table, hard enough to make it splash over the edge of the cup, and rose to answer it, scowling and growling the whole way.

But my jaw about hit the floor as I pulled the door open. I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me, like all those sleepless nights when I laid there for hours missing her. And there she was…

Sophie, standing right in front of me.

But unlike any Sophie I’d ever seen before.

Her long blonde hair was wet, hanging limply in a sodden mass clumped with quickly melting snowflakes. She only wore a light fleece jacket, a pair of jeans, and some little brown boots which were likely more fashion than function and obviously soaked through. Her clothes were drenched, and she stood there shivering, her lips almost blue with the cold of the night outside.

And her eyes… framed by the dark makeup that was smudged and smeared around them, the crystalline aqua blue seemed almost liquid. She’d clearly been crying, and even now she appeared to be just barely holding it together.

“Jesus, Sophie,” I gasped.

“I d-didn’t mean to c-come here,” she sadly breathed through chattering teeth, “but I d-d-didn’t know where else to g-go.”

“What happened to you?”

“I… I, um…” she began as her eyes shifted to see Mira coming up behind me. Sophie’s face fell even more, if that were possible. For a split second, a tortured confusion, a vivid and haunting dismay, washed over her face. She bit her trembling, chilled lip and began to turn away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize… You don’t want me here…” she trailed off in a small, panicked voice. “I’ll go.”

Without another look or a backward glance, she began down the hallway towards the stairs.

“Sophie, wait,” I rushed after her and grabbed her arm, whirling her around. She kept her face turned away, her eyes downcast, but I could see what was either melting snow or tears slipping down her cheeks.

“No, Bran,” she whispered, shaking her head, “I shouldn’t have come.”

She wrenched at her arm, trying to pull away, but I wouldn’t let her. I didn’t know what had happened, but she was clearly in some sort of trouble, and I was worried about her.

But even more, I still fucking loved her. Even with all the shit that had happened right there at the end. Even knowing how she’d played me.

I didn’t want her to go.

“Sophie,” I gently prodded, “what happened?”

“God, Brannon,” she faltered under her breath, her shoulders shaking. “Just stop. Let me go. Go back to your guest.”

Mira? She was leaving because of Mira?

“This is Sophie?” Mira asked from a few steps away. She had that motherly concerned look in her eyes.

Sophie sniffed, not looking back at her. She tugged at her arm again, slamming her eyes tightly closed and trying again to pull away.

“I’m Mira,” my sister said, stepping closer. “I’m Brannon’s sister.”

Sophie immediately stopped pulling away and turned a shocked and tearful gaze back to Mira. Mira just smiled at her, a warm, concerned light in her eyes, shifting to alarm when Sophie’s breathing became choppy, bringing her hand to cover her eyes as she burst into tears. Body-wracking sobs that shook both her and I. Wrapping my arms around her, I pulled her half-frozen form up against my chest.

And she cried. She completely broke down, taking in ragged, convulsive breaths as she wept. Mira shot me a dirty look.

“Jesus, Brannon, get her inside,” she ordered with a scowl.

Duly chastised by my sister, I slipped one arm under Sophie’s legs and lifted her against my chest, walking her into my apartment. Mira closed the door behind us, and slipped into my room to grab a blanket from my bed. As I settled on the couch with a sobbing Sophie on my lap, Mira tucked the blanket around Sophie and me.

She brushed some of the slushy hair back from Sophie’s face. “Awe, honey,” she said, “you’re freezing. I’ll go heat up some water. Make you some cocoa.”

Mira bustled around in my kitchen as I sat there with Sophie, as her tears eventually began to fade and her overwrought sorrow quieted to exhausted sniffles.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered against my neck. “I feel like an idiot.”

I nuzzled my face into the top of her head, still sopping wet, but warming a little now to release that familiar fresh and clean scent. A scent I thought I’d never experience again. A scent that was only ever Sophie. It made my chest ache heavily, but I wouldn’t have traded it for anything in the world right then.

“What happened?” I finally murmured, but was interrupted by my sister who appeared before us with a steaming cup of cocoa.

“Here,” Mira said, holding it out to Sophie. “Take a few sips, hold the cup up against you to warm you.”

Sophie shot a guilty look up at her, but did as she was told.

The silence filled the room. Mira’s unspoken questions. My complete shock that Sophie was here, even more by her emotional and physical state. Sophie, having finally gotten herself a little under control, seemed to want to fade right into the couch. To disappear right before our eyes.

Mira eyed her thoughtfully, then aimed a pointed look my way. “Do you guys need anything?” She asked, motioning her hand back and forth between Sophie and I. “I should probably get home before Chase and the boys think I’m not coming back.”

Sophie just stared into her cup and swallowed hard.

“I think we’re okay, Mira,” I replied.

“Okay,” she smiled, a little anxious and uneasy. “Give me a call if something comes up.”

I nodded and gave her a worried grimace as she stood to grab her coat and purse. A few seconds later, yet another apprehensive glance, and she headed out the door.

Sophie didn’t talk at first. She just sat in my lap quietly holding the cocoa. Her clothes had me soaked through to the skin, but I wasn’t about to say anything. I didn’t want her to move.

Ever.

“I left,” she murmured after a long while.

“Left what?” I asked softly.

“All of it. Everything.” Her head was still tucked into my shoulder, her voice barely a whisper. But I could feel her shake her head just a touch, her wet bangs brushing against my jaw. “I tried. I tried to go back. Like it had all been before. I tried… being perfect little Sophie again.”

“Back to Richard?” I couldn’t keep the bitterness from my voice, and that made Sophie raise her head to look at me.

She frowned at my dark expression, shaking her head. “Not Richard. I never did go back to Richard.”

“Sophie,” I argued quietly, “I saw you. I saw the ring.” I pulled her hand out of the blanket to see that it was still there. My stomach turned at the sight of the little diamond.

Because I realized that it really was kind of a little diamond. Very unlike Richard and his flashy new red Mustang. And a sick feeling began to rise in my gut as I began to wonder if I had possibly overreacted that night.

“It wasn’t what you thought,” she whispered, her eyes luminous, reflecting a bleak despondency. “It was my grandmother’s ring.”

“Why did Richard give it to you? Why were you even with that fucker? I thought you were supposed to be having dinner with your parents.”

“I was. Supposed to have dinner with my parents, I mean. I got there, and it was Richard instead. My dad had set it up. My mother gave him my grandmother’s ring, thinking the sentimentality might bring me around.” She looked down at the ring. “He asked, all the while apologizing for how small the diamond was. Pretty typical,” she said, a desolate smile tilting her lips. Her eyes lifted to mine. “And I said no. I said that, as much as having that ring would mean to me, I couldn’t marry him. I told him to take the ring back to my mother.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “But you took it. Sophie, I saw you take it from him and slip it on your finger. Fuck, you still have it, even now.”

“He did the first decent thing I think he’s ever done for me,” she said, taking a shaky breath. “He said I should have it anyway, no strings attached. Not as an engagement ring, but just because it meant something to me. He said he’d promised to try one last time, to do what he could to make our parents happy. But he also said he understood, handed it back to me, and asked me to not marry him. That’s when I took it.”

I didn’t really know what to say. My dreadful guilt threatened to choke me as the clear realization dawned that I had really, really fucked up. That I’d jumped to conclusions and completely lost my temper. I’d lost my mind, thinking that she was playing me.

But worst of all, I’d lost her. I’d lost Sophie.

“You were so angry,” she continued. “Like you hated me. You told me not to call or come by, and I couldn’t bear to see that look on your face again, to hear that loathing in your voice.” Her lip trembled and she looked down into the cup again. “But then, I, um… I talked to Lily at work.”

I brushed away a new tear that trailed down her cheek, but she didn’t look back up at me. She sniffed and continued on.

“She told me that she thought you cared about me. That I was wrong to stay away. That you had changed in the time we were together. She said that I should… go see you. So I came to the party—” She abruptly stopped, biting her lip. Fighting to keep the tears at bay, she closed her eyes, only to have them spill over and trail down her cheeks.

I had already felt like an asshole. In my own self-absorbed devastation, it hadn’t even occurred to me how she saw things. And Viv… she was the ultimate tipping point. As much as it had shredded me to think she was choosing Richard over me, I could only imagine how Sophie had felt walking in on Viv and me. Because there was no mistaking what had been going on there.

Pulling her closer, I pressed my lips against her hair. “God, I’m so sorry, Sophie. That was… that shit with Vivienne… I’m so sorry you saw that.”

“No, don’t be.” She shook her head. “It just seemed like a wake-up call. Here I was thinking I was special, and—”

“You were special,” I interrupted. “You are.”

Her eyes closed tightly as she fought back the tide of her tears. “I was a fool. Thinking you might…” Her voice faded off as she began to shake with quiet sobs.

“God, Soph,” I said, gathering her as close as I could. “Don’t cry, baby. Fuck, don’t cry.”

For once, Sophie didn’t do as she was told. It seemed like she couldn’t. And my heart broke holding her while she wept, knowing all the pain she felt was because of me. I was such an asshole.

“Soph, I was so angry. I was drunk out of my mind,” I whispered. “I was desperate to forget you, and I didn’t know how.”

Sophie sniffled against my chest, a shuddering breath shaking her shoulders.

“That was the only time,” I continued. “Not that it matters, but that is the only time I so much as touched another girl since that first night at the Copperline.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she sniffed, slowly shaking her head. “Like I said, it just sort of seemed to confirm that I was going in the wrong direction.” She took a deep breath and looked up at me. “So I went home. I went back to my parents.”

“Your parents?”

“I tried to be what I was before. I tried to fit myself back into their world.” She choked out a dry laugh. “I even agreed to be Alyssa’s maid-of-honor after Richard proposed to her.”

“Jesus,” I murmured, “that happened kind of fast.”

“She’s pregnant. I guess she finally figured out a way to keep him.”

“Ugh.”

“Yeah, ugh,” Sophie agreed bleakly. “But I was getting by. I put on my mask and became Sophie Buchanan again. Every day seemed just a little easier than the day before. Things just started to feel… numb. And then, tonight, my father let loose on me. He’s furious with me for driving Richard away. Said he’d even tried to bribe Alyssa.”

“Bribe her to what?”

“To have an abortion. He said it was scandalous, what she was doing. That she was no better than welfare trash, that it must have been my influence since I’d fallen from grace myself.”

“What the fuck?”

“Right in the middle of it, I walked out on him. Just got in my car and left. I drove around for a while, kind of aimlessly.” Her eyebrows furrowed and she closed her eyes again. “And it hit me. I don’t fit. Anywhere. Not with them. Not with you—”

“Sophie—”

“I pulled to the side of the road and watched it start to snow. All of a sudden, it all seemed so clear. All my life, I’ve been surrounded by luxury. I’ve been given everything anyone could ever want, except the one thing that I really needed.” She looked up at me. “I’ve never been loved.”

“Soph—”

She placed her fingers over my lips, stopping me. “I felt like I was with you,” she whispered, causing my eyes to burn and my throat to draw tight. “For that short little span of time, I really felt like I was. Not for how I looked or what I could do for you or what you could get out of being with me. But all these little things.” A heavy tear trailed down her cheek as she brushed her fingertips along my face, over the ring at my eyebrow and down my jaw. “You loved to make me laugh and make me scream. You loved to make me let go of everything I thought I was supposed to be. You loved to show me what I could be. You loved to show me who I really was inside, to bring it out into the light, and to share it. To help me let go of the mask I’ve worn for so long.”

A huge lump formed in my throat as she spoke, a hollow sense of regret so strong that I could barely stand it. I couldn’t even speak. I had no idea what to say. I hadn’t had the faintest idea what I had meant to her.

Her voice dropped to a low whisper. “I was just so scared to let go. As unhappy as I was with them, my family provided security. As much as I wanted to leave all that behind, I was afraid. Afraid that I’d fail. Afraid that you’d get bored with me, or that you wouldn’t want me anymore if I wasn’t perfect.” Her voice cracked, and she bit her lip.

“Maybe I hadn’t ever really planned to leave it all behind. But tonight, sitting alone in the dark, I just wanted to go away, to leave everything behind. For good. I sat there and decided that I had to do something drastic. So, I opened my purse and pulled out my wallet. I took out all my credit cards. Fourteen of them. My credit limit is astronomical because my father pays all the bills. I just flipped them, one by one, into the center console of my car.”

She took a deep breath, grasping for a modicum of control, and looked back up at me again, her gaze narrowed and contemplative.

“I have a savings account. It’s pretty much all the money I’ve made working for Lily. My father doesn’t know about it. It never even told him I had a job. It isn’t a lot, but it’s enough to maybe get by until I can figure things out. I only had forty-two dollars in my purse, though, so I needed to find someplace to hold up until morning.”

“And you came here,” I said.

“I didn’t mean to, really,” she shook her head. “I thought I was close to Perkins, that maybe I could go there and have some coffee. Just wait around until the bank was open so I could get some money out. I thought I’d maybe get a bus ticket to Big Sky, to get a job at the resort in housekeeping or something.”

“Your dream job,” I whispered in a somber jest. My own eyes were closed at this point. Every word she said was unbearable.

“I just wanted to do something normal people do,” she sniffed and laid her head on my chest. “So, thinking I’d walk to Perkins, I picked up my phone and sent an email to my father. I told him where the BMW was, that all his stuff would be inside, but I’d be gone. Then I put my phone in with the cards, pulled the keys from the ignition and threw them in there, too. I locked the doors as I got out, and left it all there.”

“How did you get here?” I asked, wanting more than anything for her to say it was because she loved me.

“I don’t know how long I walked when the snow began to fall more heavily. I guess I wasn’t really paying attention, but it seemed like, all of a sudden, it was falling in thick flakes that were clumping together, melting against my skin and hair, seeping into my jacket. My boots were soaked from sloshing through it, and my toes were beginning to hurt because they were so cold.”

She paused for just a moment, and I leaned back to look down at her. Her lashes where spiky from her tears, and lay stark against her flushed cheeks.

“I figured it couldn’t have been that much farther. Things around me looked sort of familiar, as much as I could tell in the dark and the swirling snow. And then I turned a corner and realized I was nowhere near Perkins.” She lifted her eyes to look at me. “I was standing there staring at your building. I could see lights on in your apartment. I could see your Christmas tree.”

“Mira just brought me that tonight,” I said dumbly, trying to ignore the bleak realization that she hadn’t meant to come here at all.

“I was so cold. I wasn’t really thinking very clearly at that point. I probably shouldn’t have come up, but I just wanted to get warm.”

“I’m glad you showed up, Soph,” I murmured.

The corner of her lips lifted in a weak, wry smile. “I’m sorry I fell apart. Your sister must think I’m completely nuts.”

“Well, she’s related to me, and you can’t get much worse than I am. Don’t let that get to you too bad.”

For a while, she didn’t say anything. She just leaned up against my shoulder, deep in thought. I had my own shit rolling through my head. Mostly about how abominably I had fucked up. But I also just wished she’d come for me, even though I didn’t deserve anything from her, not even the foolish sense of contentment I got just from holding her in my arms.

Just this one last time.

“Can I borrow your phone?” she finally whispered quietly.

“My phone?”

“Yeah,” she nodded against my chest, “so I can call a cab.”

“Sophie, you don’t need to call a cab.”

“I’ll just go to Perkins, Bran,” she contended. “It’s right across the street from the bank, and I’ll just hang out there like I’d planned.”

“Just stay here,” I suggested.

She lifted her head, her eyebrows knitted tightly and a renewed pain flickered through her eyes. “I can’t do that.”

“Yes, you can. You can sleep in my room.” She swallowed hard, studying me closely before she started shaking her head. I quickly continued before she could speak again. “I’ll sleep out here on the couch. It will be fine.”

“Bran—” She closed her eyes tightly.

“It’s okay, Sophie. Just tonight. You’ve had a shit day, you need to get some sleep.”

“But, I—”

I tipped her chin up to look at her. “You don’t have to read anything into it. It’s just one friend helping out another.”

Her lip trembled as her eyes dropped back down to her cup, and I reached for it, leaning forward to set it on the coffee table. “Hop up,” I said, trying my damnedest to sound unaffected. To ignore the brutal war inside me. I wanted to come unglued, to tell her how badly I just wanted to hold her tonight. Every night. But I’d fucked up so stupidly, and that comfort from me was probably the last thing she needed.

As she climbed off my lap, she shivered and pulled the blanket around her chilled body, still damp from the snow. I turned her towards my bedroom, guiding her with my hand low on her back. I could feel her trembling, clueless if it was from cold or emotion. As we entered my room, I pulled a clean flannel shirt from my closet and set it on the bed, then turned to my dresser to grab her some thick socks and myself a pair of sleep pants.

I held out the socks to her, and saw that she had focused on my bed, a sad frown on her lips as she seemed a bit dazed by the ghosts of this room. She and I sleeping curled into each other’s arms. It happened to me a lot, too. All the time. I sometimes closed my eyes at night and could almost feel her there beside me, cocooned in the warm, dark flannel sheets.

“Here, Soph,” I murmured, jolting her back to the present, and she slipped a hand out of her blanket to take the socks from me.

“Thank you,” she replied as she grabbed the flannel shirt, not looking up at me, and taking a step towards the door. “I’ll go change in the bathroom.”

“Here, just a sec.” I went around her, going into the bathroom as she followed quietly behind me. I opened up the top drawer of the cabinet, right next to the sink, and pulled out her aqua-blue toothbrush. The one I’d looked at every day, but had never quite brought myself to get rid of. “Your toothbrush,” I murmured, setting it on the counter with a tube of Crest.

I looked at her for just a second, just long enough to see the raw sorrow in her eyes. My voice sounded hoarse when I spoke. “I’ll just change in my bedroom really quick while you’re in here.”

Sophie nodded, and I stepped out of the bathroom, closing the door behind me.

As shitty as everything else seemed at the moment, it felt kind of awesome to get those clammy clothes off and get my sleep pants on. I hadn’t realized just how wet she’d gotten me, sitting out there on the couch. And without her in my arms, I'd become chilled. I grabbed a Henley and headed out to the living room to turn the heat up just a touch, tossing the shirt on the couch. I heard the click of the door and looked up to see Sophie coming down the short hallway from the bathroom.

Sophie in my flannel shirt. Just like before.

“Brannon,” she softly said, “I can sleep on the couch. It’s fine. If you just want to get me a dry blanket, I’ll be okay.”

I shook my head and walked over to her, placing my hands on her shoulders to turn her back towards the bedroom. “No, Soph,” I argued. “You get the bed.”

I guided her into the bedroom and towards the bed, pulling back the blankets so she could slip between the sheets. She gave me one final tormented look, as though she was trying still to talk me out of this. But there was no fight left in her, and she settled in my bed as I pulled the warm quilt up to her chest, sitting on the edge of the bed beside her.

“Just try to get some sleep,” I urged. “Tomorrow, I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

“Bran, I don’t—”

“I don’t want to argue with you anymore, Soph,” I said with a sad smile.

“I’m not trying to argue. I just… I don’t want to rely on you.”

“You don’t have to be alone.”

“This might sound kind of weird, but I do. As lonely as I’ve felt my entire life, I’ve never been alone. I’ve never taken care of myself. Taken responsibility. I need to know, Bran,” she whispered, “I need to know I can do it. Does that make any sense at all?”

“Actually,” I sighed sadly, “it kind of does. But I can help you get started.”

I turned to shut off the bedside light, leaving a faint glow streaming in from the open door to the hallway. Looking back down at Sophie, I absentmindedly smoothed the blanket over her, brushing against the soft curve of her breast before I realized what I’d even done. I froze solid, and Sophie’s eyes shot up to catch mine, her breathing shallow, almost halted completely.

It was there, that electricity that had always pulled us closer together. That longing. And, for a moment, my mind screamed at me to kiss her. To lower my head to her soft, surprised lips. To taste her sweetness once more.

She trembled under my hand, and that little quaver shook me from my daze. I closed my eyes, centering myself, realigning my composure, then looked back down at her again.

“Good night, Sophie,” I whispered.

I saw the faint glint of her teeth catching her trembling lower lip before she breathed back her shaky response.

“Good night, Bran.”

So, I forced myself to stand, to turn and to walk from the room. Every cell in my body wanted to stay. Walking out of that room was one of the most difficult things I’d ever done. Especially when she called out to me right before I closed the door behind me.

“Bran?”

Stopping in the doorway, not turning around, but tilting my head to the side to listen more closely, I waited.

There was a slight catch to her voice, and then she simply said, “Thank you.”

I closed my eyes tight, not really trusting myself to speak. To look back at her. To do anything but offer her a slight nod in response.

And then I closed the door behind me.

The whole time I stood in the bathroom brushing my teeth, I fought it. That intense urge to go back in there. To beg her not to leave. It was like it grew stronger every second. Like it was overpowering my will. Going against my better judgment.

You don’t deserve her, I kept telling myself. You never did.

And I kept my internal lecture going as I stared at myself long and hard in the mirror, as I left the bathroom. I knew I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t seem to stop turning to look at the closed door. I stepped closer and set my hands against the doorframe, holding myself back. Literally.

And just when I thought I might have it under control, just when I was a split second from releasing the doorframe and heading out to the living room, the door suddenly opened before me.

Sophie seemed flustered. Agitated. Her breath came in sharp gasps as she stood there before me. As she stepped closer, and tears filled her eyes. Her lip trembled as she curled into me, leaning up against my bare chest and wrapping her arms around my waist. My grip on the doorframe became painful, fighting the intense need to wrap her in my arms.

“I miss you,” she whispered in a broken sob.

God. Her touch…

“Every night,” Sophie breathed against my chest, “I close my eyes, and I see you. Sometimes it’s you and me.” She lifted her head, pressing her face against my neck. “Sometimes it’s you and her. And that breaks my heart. It makes me angry. It makes me sick,” she whispered. “But I still miss you.” Her lips brushed my collarbone to press soft kisses on my bare skin, intermixed with her soft whispers. “I feel like an idiot for it, but I miss everything about you.”

I fought it. My fingers ached to touch her. Loving her had been overwhelming. Losing her had been harrowing. Living without her had been pure hell. I’d tried so hard to forget her. To leave behind what I felt for her, everything that I remembered and cherished.

But this was Sophie. I couldn’t deny her anything. Even now, knowing this was a bad idea, I couldn’t turn her away.

“Sophie—” I breathed, one last hold on my restraint.

“I love you.” She straightened and looked up at me as a silver trail of tears coursed down her cheeks, reflecting the faint hallway light. “I’ve never even really known love… until you.”

That was it. The final straw. There was no way in fuck that I could fight that.

She loved me.

For a second, I just stood there frozen still, letting it sink into that thick head of mine. I pulled back and searched her eyes for a sign that she had actually just said what I heard.

Then in a rush, I dropped my hands from the door frame, tangled them in her hair, and pulled her lips up to mine.

I was starving for her kiss. It was like nothing else. Nothing. With a desperate thrill building in my chest, I swirled my tongue with hers. I breathed in her air and tilted my head to deepen the touch. Her hands crept up my shoulders, and she flattened her body up against mine with a frail moan. One of my hands slid from her hair, down the curve of her spine, and she rose on her tiptoes to melt into me.

Lifting my head, I cupped her cheek in my hand, holding her tightly with my other arm.

“Sophie,” I breathed with a thick, jagged groan, “I don’t even know who I am anymore. Not without you.”

She surged against me, and my hand slipped down over her bottom, lifting as her legs curved around my waist. I stepped to the bed, lowering her to the mattress and following her down, my lips locked with hers. Her legs spread wide beneath me as she pressed her hips up into mine.

“My Sophie,” I murmured against her lips. “You’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” she whispered again. “I love you. I missed you.”

I pulled at the buttons of her shirt, baring her skin, kissing and nipping my way down between her breasts. My lips veered to the side to capture a tightly pebbled nipple as I pulled the soft flannel from her skin. Her body arched against me, her fingers threading through my hair, urging me more firmly against her. Her breathy sob echoed throughout the quiet room, reverberating through my very soul.

My body was on fire. Every inch of my skin burned with the need to touch her. Everything felt rushed with the need to bury myself inside her and experience the ecstasy that only Sophie could provide. I rose up over her, and she hastily shoved at my sleep pants, slipping her fingers along the front to free my pulsing, aching cock.

I lifted my head to look down at her, holding her gaze steady and determined. “I want you bare, Soph. Never had a woman that way, not once in all my life. But, God, just to feel you so deep inside.”

“Yes,” Sophie breathed.

She shifted, bringing my throbbing head to her wet center, then tilted her hips up as I filled her. The sweet, smooth slide of her pussy nearly undid me. Amazing. So different and so… fuck.

“Jesus, Soph,” I moaned. “God, I… oh fuck.” I couldn’t stop the mumbled, incoherent rambling that seemed to take over.

And then Sophie made it all that much better with her breathless whisper.

“I love you.”

Her voice feathered against my ear. It echoed in my mind. I felt completely possessed by her, enraptured by the sweet and gentle warmth of her touch. I lifted my head to look down at her, and she placed her palms on either side of my jaw.

The delicious slide of my bare cock sent thrills through my entire body every time I pushed deep inside her. The incredible slick, silky heat, the tightening of her muscles as she lifted her hips to meet my slow, deliberate thrusts.

It had always been different with her. Before Sophie, sex had been entertainment. Meaningless and amusing. In the weeks that we’d been apart, the self-loathing over my behavior had torn me to shreds. The knowledge that I’d lost it all. The bitter craving for the slightest glimpse of what we’d had. Even the empty thrill I’d had before her. The complete surrender to her memory, knowing I’d never touch such perfection again.

But right at that moment, it was as though we passed through the mortal bonds of our flesh, as though our very souls twisted together, each claiming the other.

“I love you, Sophie.” I couldn’t stop the words, over and over, as my body melted into hers.

And her words echoed my own. Swirling around us, wrapping us in pure, raw emotion.

“I love you, Bran.”

I rolled to my back, pulling her with me and sitting upright to draw her into my body. She circled her hips to a heartfelt rhythm, her fingers caressing my shoulders, my neck, and my jaw as she kissed me, as she breathed the words into my very existence. We were one being, one mind and one heart, moving together. The tempest began to rise inside us both. Her body mesmerized me and squeezed me tight as she began to soar, as she sobbed against my lips and her movements grew erratic and shaky.

And then she lit up around me with a desperate gasp. I pushed her back down to the bed, rolling on top of her and pumping into her with a bruising force. She lay wrapped in my arms, panting and keening into my chest as I thrust just a few more times, and then I lost myself inside her, feeling the flood of heat that filled her, wrenching a gasp from her tender lips.

I held myself deep, relishing in the silky feel of her pussy, the wetness of her release and mine mixing together, hot and erotic. An orgasmic epiphany.

I breathed against her forehead, overcome with the awareness, with the sensuality and emotion of the moment. My heart pounded. My throat felt tight and my eyes burned with tears. I thought for a second that I was going to bawl like a girl. I hadn’t felt anything so powerful since my mom died.

Sophie breathed in my skin and trailed her fingertips along my shoulders. I had wrapped myself around her as she lay cradled beneath me, both of us floating in the consummation of pure reverence. I’d never experienced anything that profound. Like a pagan absolution, love held us tight in a solemn bond that spoke of forgiveness and devotion and fidelity.

I’d whispered it so many times, against her skin and against her lips, but I couldn’t stop the exhausted sigh as the haze of our passion began to ebb away.

“I love you, Soph.”

And her whispered breath, a soothing caress over all the scars of our healing heartache.

“I love you, Bran.”

The delicate brush of fine fingertips feathered along my jaw, waking me. As I opened my eyes to the dim, pale predawn, I saw Sophie studying me. She lay in my arms, barely inches away, watching the path of her fingers as they trailed over my ink. She glanced up and saw my eyes on her.

“When I first woke up,” she said in a low whisper, “I thought I was dreaming. To be this close to you. To be in your arms.” She tucked her head under my chin, snuggling against my bare chest. “I never thought I’d have this again.”

“Me either,” I murmured, closing my eyes. My arms tightened around her as I just savored the quiet and the dark and the feel of her skin. Skimming my hand along her shoulder, gently caressing the silky smooth texture. “Having you here in the flesh. In my bed. I laid here every night thinking about you. Missing you.”

She kissed my bicep, molding herself deeper into my arms. “I missed you more. I’m sure of it.”

“Impossible.” I whispered into her hair. My eyes closed as I remembered what she’d said last night. “Are you still leaving, Sophie?”

She pulled back and looked up at me with a troubled expression. Swallowing hard, her voice low and broken, she spoke. “I don’t know what to do. I need to know I can take care of myself. I need to figure out who I am. I’ve always just been who other people wanted me to be.”

“You don’t have to leave, though. You’d have a job here. I’m sure Lily would take you back in a heartbeat.”

Sophie shook her head. “I kind of bailed on her, Bran.”

“I’m pretty sure she understands why. She will barely talk to me except to tell me what a fuck up I am.” I twisted my lips. “Every now and then, I’d ask about you, and she’d just tell me to fuck off.”

“She wouldn’t have much to share. I haven’t seen her since that… that awful night. I called her the next day to let her know I couldn’t come back. I didn’t even tell her why.”

“She knew,” I grimaced.

Sophie traced her fingertips along my jaw. The sadness in her eyes was gutting me. The thought of her leaving me, now… I loved her.

“You could stay here,” I offered, trying to sound casual, all the while, feeling anything but. I suddenly felt like I’d swallowed a grapefruit. Like I couldn’t breathe and the blood pounded in my veins.

“If I did,” she whispered, “it would be way too easy to let you take care of me.”

I shook my head and replied emphatically. “So don’t make it difficult.”

“I need to try and make it on my own, Bran, just for a little while. If I didn’t, I'd feel like a burden to you.”

“You’re not a burden,” I argued. “God, Sophie, I sure as fuck don’t deserve you, but I don’t want you to go.”

“You’re so much better than you know, Brannon. So much more than you give yourself credit for.” She trailed her fingertips along my cheek.

For a while, we just lay there, studying each other closely as though the memory of this moment could carry us through the next few weeks or months. However long she needed to be gone.

“Maybe I just won’t let you leave,” I whispered after a while, leaning forward to kiss her gently on the lips. My sad and gentle jest, a melancholy attempt to make this easier for both of us. “I’m just going to chain you up naked in my bed.”

“I can think of worse things,” she murmured softly into my kiss. “I don’t think there could be anything better.”

“So stay,” I breathed. “Stay here with me.”

“Brannon, I just need a little time… to figure out who I am.”

I closed my eyes tight, clenched my jaw, and nodded. “I’ll give you whatever you want, Sophie,” I promised quietly. Everything she was saying made sense. She needed to understand independence to truly feel free with me.

It sucked.

But she was right.

“I’ll do anything for you, Soph… even this. I hate it, but I’ll do it.”

Sophie smiled with a hint of sadness still in her eyes. She tipped her head forward, pressing her forehead against my chest as she inhaled deeply.

“One condition, though,” I whispered into her hair.

“What’s that?”

“I get you today. Tomorrow, I’ll let you go. I’ll take you to the bank. To the bus station. I’ll let you do what you need to do.” She pulled back and looked up at me, and my voice grew thick with emotion. “But I get you today. All day. All night.”

She stroked her fingertip down my cheek, watching it rasp against my unshaven jaw. “Don’t you have to work?”

“There’s nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow.”

Her fingertips trailed from my jaw to trace the tat on my chest, following the lines of the wings that spread from one shoulder to the other. Then she leaned forward and softly pressed her lips to the ink. She molded her body close to mine and spoke so quietly that I could barely hear her.

“I’m all yours, Bran.”

“Seal it with a kiss, Sophie,” I demanded hoarsely.

She leaned back a little, a somber tilt to her lips as she studied me. Her expression imparted a bittersweet depth of emotion that thrilled and pained me. A beginning and an end, all in one, right there in her tearful blue-green eyes. Her palms cradled the angle of my jaw as she brought her lips to lightly touch mine. A tender kiss that took my breath away.

I rolled to my back, pulling her up over me, and her hair fell in a soft curtain that shielded us from the world outside. Her unhurried movements both calmed and excited me. The gentle sweep of her fingertips lightly danced over my skin, her lips trailing along behind. And in the faint, early morning light, Sophie made sweet, slow love to me.

With peaceful, deliberate rapture, she brought my body to life, and I ached for the exquisite feel of her, the soft, silky wetness that drew me in. My hands moved to the round curve of her bottom, nudging her up, a silent plea for some relief from her blissful torment. But she grabbed my hands and pushed them down on the bed, flat by my shoulders.

“Not yet,” she whispered against my ear. “We have all day. All night. Remember?” She swirled her tongue lightly around my earring as her fingers laced together with mine. “Just let me love you.”

So I did.

I lay still, allowing her reverence to wash over me, feeling the devotion of her heart and soul seep through the whole of my body. Pushing back the almost painful longing to take control. Fighting the desire to roll over on top of her, enfolding her in my arms and loving her until she couldn’t leave me.

But I resisted.

I let Sophie love me.

At long last, after exploring every curve of muscle and sinew, she slid back over my body and took me inside. Her fair, ivory skin glowed in the morning sun, ethereal and radiant as she sank down on my aching flesh. Her movements beguiled me, deliberate and relaxed. I felt every quiver of her depths, the clasp of her surrounding me. When she had taken me fully, she arched her back and rocked delicately, teasing me and pleasing me in the quiet of the morning.

I’d never known such beauty. I’d never felt such wonder and connection. Sophie’s gentle motion drew us closer to an ethereal cusp, tipping us over the edge into a shaking, breathless tangle of listlessness.

For that brief snapshot in time, all was right with the world. Because Sophie loved me.

Over the next few hours, I barely let her out of my sight. Or my reach.

We brushed our teeth, and I bent her over the bathroom counter while she watched our carnal reflection in the mirror. We showered, and I ended up fucking her against the tile wall. We cooked dinner, and I spread her out on the counter and indulged in her pussy for an appetizer. We watched a movie, and she zealously savored my dick for dessert… with whipped cream on top.

By the time it was dark, both of us were exhausted. Limp. Sore. Every muscle in my body ached like I’d been in the gym for hours. So we made our way to my bed to lay bare in the soft light, holding each other with a bittersweet grasp.

I’d promised that I’d let her go, but I didn’t want to. I knew she had to figure out shit. She needed to get stuff straight in her head. I got it. I understood.

But it didn’t make it easier.

And, even though our bodies were battered and abused from the intensity of our carnality, neither of us wanted to sleep. Long into the night, we quietly shared stories. Funny bits of our youth. Crazy anecdotes about the people we knew. I told her about my grampa and about my mom, how much it had shattered me to lose them. She tearfully kissed me, and held my head against her soft breasts while I spoke.

We surpassed all the levels of intimacy we’d come to thus far. We fell deeper in love that night, and, as slivers of morning began to peek through the drawn curtains, I vowed that this would not be the last of us.

That everything I did for the rest of my life… would be for Sophie.

All too soon, morning arrived.

She didn’t have anything to pack. I almost offered her the teal-blue toothbrush, but then selfishly wanted to keep it. Ridiculous, but it was like, as long as I had that fucking toothbrush, she’d come back.

We stopped by the bank and she withdrew some money, switching her account from savings to checking and getting a debit card. It was a little consolation that she was keeping her account there, even if it was a nationwide chain.

In spite of her protestations, I stopped and got her a cell phone, adding her to my plan. She fought me, spouting all that same stuff about needing to be independent and doing this on her own, but I wouldn’t budge. I had to keep some connection with her. She finally relented, and I immediately programmed my number in it and put her new number in mine.

Then we stopped by Target where she bought a new toothbrush and other toiletries. She bought a couple pairs of jeans, a few shirts, some socks and underwear. Part of me was kind of glad that she didn’t go for sexy little panties, but plain cotton ones instead. In reality, she was being frugal, but I liked to think she chose them because she didn’t plan to let anyone see them.

I hated shopping. With a passion. I always had. My sister bought most of my clothes, shit for my house, pretty much everything. Sometimes she even bought me groceries.

But I knew every minute I spent with Sophie would be a snapshot in time, something I could hold onto when she was gone.

Then we were at the bus station. Waiting. Sitting at a little table over cups of crap coffee. She traced my fingers with her own and sniffed. Her eyes were wet with unshed tears as she looked up at me.

“I have no right to ask you to wait for me,” she whispered, “but want to.”

“Don’t go,” I whispered back.

She dropped her eyes back down to study our hands, and a heavy tear hit the table before her.

“I’m sorry,” I said with a raw ache in my voice. “I know you have to do this. Just come back to me.”

I lifted my hand and tipped her chin up to look at me. When she saw the wetness in my own eyes, she gave me the sweetest sad smile I’ve ever seen. “I will.”

Then her bus was called. One last tortuous kiss, and she was stepping back away, tears pouring down her cheeks, everything she owned in a backpack slung over her shoulder.

And then… she was gone.

It had only been a couple weeks, but I missed her.

Viciously. It tore at my aching heart and kept me awake at night.

I didn’t feel like going anywhere or doing anything. I just kinda wanted to lie in my bed and snuggle up with the pillow Sophie had slept on that last night she was here. To mope around my apartment reliving the moments we’d shared. To call her and text her.

To see her and hold her.

For the first couple days, I just mechanically went about my life. I went to work and didn’t really say much to Cody. We were dudes, so we didn’t get all in each other’s business about feelings and shit anyway.

I had become even less conversational since Sophie and I’d had the big blow-up a while back. I hadn’t threatened to fire him in weeks. So when I didn’t talk much after Sophie left town, I hoped that it just went unnoticed, and it seemed to. Thankfully, I didn’t have to go into detail about the most recent high and low because he didn’t ask. He just sorta worked alongside me and eyed me cautiously from time to time.

Denny didn’t let me off so easily, though. He stopped by the shop on the Friday after Sophie left to see if I was coming to the Copperline. At the first sign of my despondent moping, he started to pry, finally just calling me out.

“So, who shite in your corn flakes?” he grumbled.

I glared at him a minute, then flatly replied, “Sophie left.”

He and Cody gave each other perplexed looks. Cody shrugged and turned back to the old pickup he was working on.

“I thought you guys split a while ago, Brannon,” Denny said as he studied me, obviously confused. “You said she was tying the knot with that rich dickbrain.”

“Nah,” I shook my head, “I fucked up. Big time.”

“Did you know about any of this?” Denny asked Cody.

Cody just shook his head, looking rather uncomfortable and kept working.

I kept working, too. I sort of hoped that maybe, if I just ignored Denny, he’d drop it and go away. It didn’t work, though.

“So what happened?” he finally asked.

With a heavy sigh, I set down my tools and told him about her showing up at my place. I told him her side of all the shit that had gone down, my massive fuck-ups way back to my blow up at the Uptown. Cody stepped into the office for a minute, coming back with a couple cold beers from the Friday fridge. He handed one each to Denny and I, keeping one for himself.

And I continued to unload. A longer, deeper conversation than I’d probably ever had with dudes before. With anyone, really, except for Sophie. For her sake, I left out the massive amounts of sex all over my apartment, but totally confessed that I loved her. That she loved me.

But she’d still left.

“Well,” Denny said finally. “that’ll harden ya.”

“You know,” I scowled at him for a minute, “sometimes I have no fucking clue what you're saying.”

“No shit,” Cody said. “Speak English, you fucker.”

“Fuck off,” Denny laughed back at Cody before turning back to me. “So when is she comin’ back?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

“Feckin’ hell,” he sighed.

“Yeah,” I agreed, “fuckin’ hell.”

“Yeah, fuckin’ hell,” Cody echoed. “But she is coming back? You’re sure?”

“She said she was,” I shrugged. “But she might decide not to after a couple weeks. She might find someone else.”

“Yeah, she is fucking gorgeous,” Cody nodded. “Definitely one to turn heads.”

“Jaysus, Mary, and Joseph,” Denny scowled at him. “Shut the feck up, you bloody eejit. He doesn’t need to be hearing shite like that.” Then he turned to look back at me. “She does love ya, Brannon,” he said firmly, “that’s right clear. It was obvious a long time ago. And you did what ya had to, letting her go like.”

“If you love someone, set them free…” I trailed off. I didn’t want to think about the ‘if they don’t come back’ part.

“Well,” Denny exhaled, “just don’t be a wanker and feck it all up again. And, in the meantime, we could use a hand tonight, if you’re up to it. Otherwise, you’ll just sit around and mope like a wee girlie.”

“Fuck off,” I laughed dryly.

“We’ll have you home at a respectable hour. No funny business.”

Cody laughed. “Yeah, and you can just send all the chicks my way, Brannon.”

I rolled my eyes and sighed. “You guys are such dicks.”

“So, ya comin’ then?” Denny asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Fine,” I sighed. “I’ll be there.”

Since the night Sophie had shown up at my place, I’d also ignored phone calls from Mira. While Sophie was with me, I didn’t want anything to intrude on that little moment in time where we were together, short as it was. Mira called a couple times in the days following, but I let them go to voicemail. I just kind of dreaded trying to explain all this shit to her.

But finally, as I drove out to the Copperline that night, I answered. She’d likely come looking for me if I didn’t, and having your big sister show up to drag you out of the bar doesn’t do much for a guy’s manhood.

“It’s about time,” she immediately grumbled when I answered. “So, you guys back together?”

“Hey, Mira,” I replied dryly, “how are you?”

“Dammit, Brannon, are you?”

“I don’t really know how to answer that.” That wasn’t even a lie. I hadn’t a clue. “Sorta? Maybe?”

“Sorta? Maybe? What does that mean?”

“Well, we kind of worked things out—”

“Oh yay!”

“—but then she left.”

“Wait, she left? Like you got back together and broke up again?”

“We didn’t really break up again,” I sighed. “I’m not sure exactly how to put it. She just… she had to go for a while.”

“Go where?”

“Just off on her own. She went to Big Sky.”

“She went to a fucking resort?” she shrieked through the phone.

I pulled the phone away from my ear and waited for her to chill out before I responded. “Nice language, sis.”

“Like she’s taking a vacation or something?” Her voice was hard with contempt. I was her baby brother, after all, and she tended to be a touch protective of me.

Thus, I felt the need to stand up for Sophie a little.

“No, she went there to work.”

There was a momentary stunned silence on the phone. “Work? Doing what?”

“Housekeeper or waitress or something.”

“But, Brannon, why would she do that?” Mira murmured. “She’s rich.”

“No,” I countered, “her parents are rich. The reason she was here the other night is because she more or less told them fuck off. She doesn’t want anything to do with them anymore.”

“So, is she coming back?”

“Yeah,” I said, hoping she really was, all the while wishing she hadn’t totally taken my balls with her. I felt like a total pansy. “Eventually.”

“Eventually?” Mira let out a long, deep breath. “Like how eventually?”

“I don’t know, Mira. As long as she needs. But I couldn’t force her to stay. Even if…” My voice trailed off. Because I couldn’t finish that thought aloud. Even if she never came back.

See? No balls left. I may as well have grown a vagina.

“You love her,” she said softly.

I was quiet for a minute before I answered. “I do.”

“Awe,” she sighed, and was interrupted by the cacophony of her boys hollering in the background. “Do you want to come over for dinner?” she shouted over the racket.

“God, no,” I laughed.

“Brannon—”

“I’m okay, Mira. I’m not going to barricade myself in my room or turn into a raging drunk again. I just already said I’d help Denny tonight. So it’s okay.”

“Maybe tomorrow then?” she asked hopefully.

“Can you sedate those kids of yours first?”

“Good grief, Brannon,” she snorted, “they’re nothing compared to what you were like at that age. Just be here at six.”

And with that she hung up, not giving me any more opportunity to argue.

The days came and went, dragging along in a painful creep.

“I miss you,” Sophie quietly said into the phone as we talked into the early morning hours. Those three little words always sent a conflicted ripple through me. It made me miss her too. It made me want her home. Yet it made me feel connected to her and sort of reassured me that she would eventually come home to me. Someday.

“Well, I'm glad you miss me,” I dryly chuckled, lying in my empty bed. This had become more or less a nighttime ritual, our voices coming together in the darkness. Her so distant up in the mountains of Big Sky, me aching for her in the valley around Ophir.

She sounded dreadfully far away as she spoke. “I really do, though.”

And for just a second, I allowed the pure, raw emotion resonate in my voice. “I miss you, too, Sophie.”

For a second, she didn’t say anything. I heard a faint sniffle through the phone lines, and then she released a long, slow breath. “Why am I doing this?” she whispered.

My mind screamed at me.

Tell her to come home.

Beg her.

But I didn’t. I resisted. I did everything I could to be strong for both of us. “Because you've never done it before.”

“But does that means I should?” Her uncertainty tortured my fragile resolve, and it was all I could do to stay resolute… for her.

“Soph,” I softly asked, “have you ever watched Breakfast at Tiffany’s?”

“What?” she sniffed again.

“Breakfast at Tiffany’s. It was one of my grampa’s favorite movies. He used to make me watch it all the time.”

“I'm not sure that I've ever seen it, but one of those pictures in my old apartment was modeled after her.”

“Yeah, Holly Golightly. She reminds me of you.”

“Brannon, I don’t look anything like Audrey Hepburn.”

“No, Soph,” I said softly, “it’s not how she looked, but something she always said.”

“What did she say?” she whispered.

“Whenever someone asked why she did something, she'd say it was because she'd never done it before.” Sophie didn’t say anything in response aside from another quiet sniffle, so I kept talking, filling the silence to keep her with me. “Ever since I’ve met you, you’ve been on a quest to do things you’ve never done. And you’re doing them, baby. One by one. Just like Holly Golightly.”

After a long pause, she spoke again. “How did that work out for her?”

She broke her own heart and that of the man she loved, but, in the end, she came back to him.

I couldn’t really say that, though. It would have been a total ball-less douche thing to spit out, and I was already bordering on ultimate pitiful schmuck territory.

But, in the end, I kinda told my ego to fuck off and left the door wide open for her. “When you come home,” I promised, “we'll watch it and you can find out.”

The longer I was at the Copperline, the more I wished I hadn’t agreed to this shit tonight. Typical Friday night gig for the Mofos, but being there without Sophie was actually pretty damn excruciating. More so every time I went there over the past couple weeks.

I just really fucking missed her.

We talked on the phone almost every night. Sometimes later than others if she was working a late shift or I was out with the Mofos, but one or both of us always tried to connect.

The first time I called and got her voicemail at night, I actually panicked. Where was she? I’d thought to myself. Who was she with? How fast could I drive to Big Sky and kick the fucker’s ass?

The truth was, I’d been a fuckwad for so long that it was hard for me to trust her. I knew what sneaky bastards guys could be. They could smell dejection and loneliness, and they’d use it to sway her. To pull her away from me. So I lived in constant apprehension that she’d cut me loose.

I knew she’d also worry if she couldn’t reach me. With my libidinous past, she really had a great deal of a reason to. I had never really shown myself to be trustworthy to any chick before. So I damn near killed myself trying to make sure I answered her calls every fucking time. I didn’t want to give her any reason to doubt me.

She liked her job as a hostess in the restaurant of the Huntley Lodge, and she adored the people she worked with. She liked feeling independent for the first time ever, and was thrilled with how beautiful Big Sky was. At first, these conversations tore at my heart. They made me think it might not work out. That she might not care about me as much as I cared about her. Her voice was filled with excitement about this adventure in her life.

As time passed, though, the newness wore off. She was growing more confident, realizing that she actually was perfectly capable, but her voice grew more melancholy. She sounded more lonely. Like she was nearing a breaking point. I fervently hoped that meant she’d come home soon, but she wanted to finish out ski season, and that was likely to be a few months. With spring snowstorms, it could go through April.

So I didn’t ask her to come home, although it was at the forefront of my mind every time I talked to her. Instead, I tried to keep upbeat about it all. I tried not to let her hear the pitiful longing in my voice.

When did I become this pathetic motherfucker? I wondered, looking around the Copperline.

The bar hadn’t changed. Same sticky floor. The same barstool bunnies looking for a thrill. Fuck, even the band hadn’t changed. The Bangin’ Mofos had gotten better over the years, but they were sort of synonymous with the Copperline.

But I had changed. I didn’t view this world even remotely the same. I used to relish the rush I’d get from just walking through the door, and that was completely gone. Instead of a place I wanted to be, it was a place I couldn’t wait to escape.

Since Sophie had been gone, the usual suspects came around to make the usual illicit suggestions. Starting with Ruth, who didn’t seem all that surprised when I passed. Then Pauline, who seemed almost pissed that I turned her down. This didn’t really bother me all that much. Quite frankly, I was still kind of pissed at her, too, for going after Sophie a while back. Then Laura hit me up, and she got a little clingy. I didn’t turn into a total asshole, even though I was still pissed at her, too, but I did tell her to back off. That the shit they had pulled was not cool with me.

My mood was shit.

I just wanted Sophie.

So I hung out backstage, back in the curtains away from the bulk of the crowd. Waiting to go home and lie in bed so I could hear that sweet voice through the phone lines. I leaned forward to check the clock on the far wall and saw there were still a good couple hours to go.

Dammit.

Just as I started to settle back into my little antisocial corner, a flash of light blonde hair caught my eye over by the bar. Just like Sophie’s, I thought. And just like that, the ever-present pang from missing her intensified. Like I was conjuring her up out of thin air.

Then I realized that it was Lily beside her.

Holy fuck!

That was Sophie! What the fuck was she doing here?

My feet moved before my brain could process it. I didn’t make the conscious decision to head for the back steps off stage. All my mind could focus on was that she was here. Sophie was here.

She was back.

I skirted the room towards the bar, stepping up behind the girls to hear Sophie’s soft, panicked voice.

“I don’t see him, Lily. Maybe he’s not here.”

“I’m sure I saw him earlier, Sophie. And his truck was out back, right?”

“Oh God,” Sophie groaned, shaking her head, “you don’t think he—” She stopped short. “No, no he wouldn’t, right?”

“No,” Lily firmly said, “you’re right. He wouldn’t. The old man-ho Brannon probably would, but he’s not that guy anymore.”

“But I left him. Why wouldn’t he?” Her voice cracked as she buried her face in her hands. “Why did I leave him? I love him. Fuck, I love him so much. This isn’t going how I thought it would. And my damn phone is dead. I thought I had it charged, but it died before I even got to Bozeman. I can’t even call him or send him a text. I’m so close, and I can’t find him.”

Lily wrapped her arm around Sophie’s shoulders. “Don’t stress, Sophie. We’ll find him.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a portable power stick. “Here,” she said, “plug your phone in and we’ll call him. We’ll find him.”

Sophie sniffed as she complied, fishing her phone out of her pocket. “I should have never left. He told me he loved me, and I left.” Her shoulders began to shake with sobs as she clumsily tried to connect the cable, then gave up and angrily wiped the tears from her eyes. “God, I’m an idiot. I can’t even get this phone plugged in.”

Lily took over, attaching the power pack. “It should just take a few minutes before your phone has enough charge to fire up.”

“I just had it all worked out in my head,” Sophie sobbed. “I’d see him and he’d see me and…”

I leaned back to the bar and motioned to the bartender for a napkin, then stepped up behind Sophie and handed it to her, nudging it against her fingertips.

“Thank you,” she whispered as she took it, only looking at my hand. And she froze when she saw the tattoo on my wrist. Her head jerked up to see me watching her.

“You’re here,” I murmured dumbly.

She nodded slowly, but didn’t say a word.

I stepped a little closer, cupping her cheek in my palm, brushing her tears away with my thumb. “Sophie, baby… you’re here.”

“I wanted to surprise you.”

“You did,” I said in a choked voice, touching my forehead to hers. “Fuck, I missed you. How long are you here for?”

Please say forever. Please say forever. Please say forever.

“I’m here as long as you want me,” she whispered with trembling lips.

Good enough.

“Okay,” I smiled as I lowered my lips to hers, “forever then.”

Her lips were soft and warm and tasted of tears. She lifted her arms around my neck and pressed herself close to my body. And I held her, swaying just a bit in the steady beat of the Mofos’ song. I held my girl who was here to stay… forever.

She finally lifted her head from my shoulder and slid a tremulous smile up at me, the lighthearted intent completely overpowered by the unmistakable emotion in her eyes. “I guess I'll have to stay with you since you're holding my favorite toothbrush hostage.”

I chuckled, swallowing against the tight lump in my throat. “You love me for that toothbrush.”

“This will sound really stupid, but… I almost took it, and I couldn’t. It was like I needed it there so you'd know I was coming back.”

“Sophie—”

“Stupid, right?”

“I wouldn’t have let you take it, Soph,” I grinned. “I needed it to stay there for the same reason.”

Sophie smiled, but cocked her eyebrow dubiously.

“I'm not shittin’ you either. You'd have had a fight on your hands if you'd tried.”

As the song ended, I heard Denny’s voice cut through the room. “We don’t usually do dedications,” he said into the microphone, “but I actually wrote a song about a couple people who are here tonight. See, this sweet little bird Lily here,” he nodded to Lily who stood beside him on the stage, “just told me that our girl Sophie has come home.”

Sophie had looked up at the stage when Denny started talking, but at this last bit, her shocked eyes turned back to mine. “What is he doing?”

She looked so fucking cute that I couldn’t help but laugh. “I have no idea.”

“Sophie girl, look up here… towards the stage like. There ya go. So, anyway, sweetheart, I was still a bit surprised when you showed up at our place a while back. Even more so when my man Brannon brought you to the Copperline. He never brought bits of stuff to the Copperline. He left with plenty, but he never brought one.”

“I wish everyone would quit fucking saying that,” I muttered and glanced sheepishly down at Sophie who was biting her lip in apprehension, yet there was an amused light dancing in her eyes.

“And Perkins, too? Right then and there,” Denny continued, “I shoulda known there was something special. Yet, I was a bit surprised when he brought ya to the house a few days later. I'll keep some of those details to myself,” he sighed blissfully, eliciting a chuckle from the crowd, “but I will say, she may look like a Barbie, but she can smoke like Marley.”

“Oh my God,” Sophie gasped, “he just told everyone I smoked pot.”

I leaned down and murmured in her ear. “Just be glad that’s all he told them, Soph.”

Alarmed, she stared wide-eyed up at me, then knitted her forehead and nodded. “Good point,” she said.

“Besides,” I added, “half the people in here can’t understand a word he says with that fucking accent of his.”

I was rewarded with a thankful giggle.

“The craic was mighty for a bit,” Denny rambled on, looking over the crowd with an inborn showmanship.

“To be quite honest,” Sophie leaned up to say in my ear, “I'm not sure that I understand much of what he’s saying, either. What does crack mean?”

“It’s some Irish thing for awesome. Great fun… or some shit like that,” I explained. “I’m not entirely sure myself.”

Denny’s voice brought our attention back to him. “You see, for a while, Brannon was like a whole new man. Was kinda nice that he was settling down because it freed up some pussy for the rest of us. But, then he sorta fucked it up.”

Almost as though it was rehearsed, the crowd gave a synchronous, melancholy “awe” and Denny shook his head wistfully, looking back over at us.

Sophie turned towards me with a look of concern and regret. “I sorta fucked it up, too,” she whispered, and I gave her a halfway guilty shrug before turning to glare at Denny rather murderously.

“Wasn’t a pretty sight,” Denny rattled on, “and the fella about drank his weight in whiskey for a week or so after, tryin’ to forget ya, Sophie. Let me tell ya, over the last month or two, that tosser has been the most mopey, pansy-arsed fella the likes of which I've never seen.”

“I’m gonna kill that motherfucker,” I muttered under my breath, looking down to see Sophie watching me closely. I knew it was written all over my face. I could feel the vulnerability pawing its way through my unaffected facade. A warm flush burned at my skin.

But Denny just kept going. Bastard.

“I never thought it would happen to a guy like him, but he is feckin’ whipped. The girls don’t even try anymore because they know he'll just shoot them down. So, Sophie girl,” Denny continued, “do us all a favor. Wrap yourself up in Brannon’s arms and dance to this song I wrote for ya. And don’t let go of him this time, hi?”

A long twang of electric guitar sounded as Drew struck the first chord, and the Mofos began to play.

It was the song he’d written about us.

About a good little girl going off the rails. And an undeserving dick who loved her. Getting busy on a couch while he watched. It was all beauty and intensity and pure, raw passion.

“Okay,” I leaned down to murmur against her ear, “now he just told everyone the rest.”

As I drew back, Sophie lowered her eyes and inhaled a shaky breath. A tremulous smile touched her lips:

“You warned me about that a long time ago,” she tearfully laughed. Then she lifted her gaze, and her eyes grew dark. Serious. And without another word, just a rush of emotion, she pulled herself up to kiss me.

Over the rough, raw guitar chords and the deep rasp of Denny’s voice, I heard what could have been applause. A whoop and a whistle faintly registered in my brain. But all I could focus on was the taste of Sophie’s kiss, the incredibly overpowering feeling deep in my soul that everything was right in the world again.

Because Sophie was back in my arms… forever.

“Welcome back, sweetheart” Denny said as he gave Sophie a quick hug. The band had just finished up for the night, and they were getting ready to tear down. “Brannon, we’ve got an extra hand tonight, so you two can run along if ya want.”

As he turned to grab his jacket, Sophie grabbed his arm. “Denny,” she gasped, “you lost the bet.”

“Feckin’ hell,” he replied, holding out the forearm that had newly inked letters trailing down it, large and bold, spelling out WANKER. He glowered at Sophie and I. “It’s yer fault, the two of ya.”

“Our fault?” Sophie gasped. “Why is it our fault you lost the bet?”

“Because the bet was about you two,” he grumbled. “Well, you two and Justin.”

Sophie’s mouth dropped open. “Us and Justin?” she squeaked. “Oh my God, Denny, please tell me it wasn’t what I think it was.”

“I never thought ya’d have it in you, Sophie,” Denny laughed. “Turns out, ya had ‘em both in you.”

Sophie whirled around to plant her face in my chest, a bright blush flaring at her cheeks. “Oh my God, Brannon,” she groaned. “You told him?”

“I didn’t,” I said as I eyed Denny, trying really hard to look pissed even though this whole conversation was actually kind of hilarious.

“Nah, Justin couldn’t wait to tell me,” Denny laughed.

“Fucker,” I growled, even though I couldn’t quite wipe the smile from my face, “I’m gonna have to kick his ass again.”

“I would appreciate that,” Sophie muttered in a muffled groan.

“Well,” I glared at Denny, “I can guarantee you it won’t happen again. From now on, nobody, male or even female, touches Sophie but me.”

“Agreed.” Her voice was barely audible, but loud enough for me to know that she was perfectly fine with that.

A few weeks later…

Sophie and I lay in bed. Our bed… in our apartment.

A lazy Saturday morning, just like the Saturday before and the one before that. Like all the Saturdays yet to come.

Yesterday was Sophie’s birthday. I’d wracked my brain, last-minute shopping trying to get her the perfect gift. But what do you get the girl who had everything, but gave it all away to be with you?

Even worse, she didn’t want anything. Nothing. Nada. Every time I asked her, she’d look at me with a smile in her blue-green eyes and say, “I have what I want. I have you.”

So I was a complete wreck. I couldn’t figure it out. I couldn’t even fathom what could possibly be worthy of her. Money wasn’t the issue. We weren’t loaded, but the shop was doing pretty well, and I had managed to tuck some away. Sophie had gone back to work for Lily part-time and had also taken over the billing for the garage. It was amazing how much better the shop ran with someone watching the income and expenses a little closer, and she definitely had a head for numbers.

So it really wasn’t that I couldn’t spend a lot. With Sophie, though, it almost felt like I’d let her down if I did spent a lot.

In the end, I bought her a little silver ring. It wasn’t gaudy or glitzy. It wasn’t outrageously expensive, but it was artfully crafted. A dainty ring of filigreed silver, twisted together with a deep blue-green gemstone in the center, cut in the shape of a heart. It reminded me of my wrist tat. Only it was now full with the color of her eyes.

A ring in general seemed ridiculously cliché, but this one… it sorta of seemed to fit.

On my way back from Butte, though, I started to second guess myself. A ring. Fuck. I just bought her a ring. Granted, it didn’t look like an engagement ring, but was she going to think I was proposing?

Shit, was I proposing?

I wanted to marry her eventually. I had no doubt in my mind. But was she ready? Would it be too soon? Would she freak out?

I almost turned around and went back to Butte to get her a necklace instead. Or too. Yeah, too, not instead. Because that ring really was perfect for her. Maybe I could find a necklace that went with it. And earrings.

But then she’d be freaked that I spent so much.

In the end, I thought to myself, Do or die.

So I gave her the ring. We sat on the couch and I made her do the whole ‘close your eyes’ thing. When I told her to open them, she looked up at me as though she was searching my face for the meaning. I almost vomited a proposal right then and there, but she saved me by speaking first.

“It’s like your tat,” she whispered tearfully.

“And the color of your eyes,” I said, feeling totally lame for the words that were coming out of my mouth, “because you filled my empty heart.”

Total cheese, I know, but it had the desired effect. She launched herself at me, kissing me firmly and, the next thing I knew, we were rolling around naked on the floor.

Well, not totally naked. Sophie had on the ring.

Now, the following morning, we lay in bed. And she still only wore the ring.

“Bran, there’s still a problem,” Sophie said softly, her face pressed against my chest.

Problem? I felt the icy chill of dread fill my veins. A panicked shiver. My hand froze in place where it had been combing back her soft hair. “What’s that, Sophie?”

“I’m still Sophie Buchanan,” she whispered, shaking her head.

Um…

“Soph, you’re not the same girl you used to be.”

“I know, but I still have the same name.”

Ask her, half of my brain screamed.

Fuck off, the other half yelled back.

So, like a douche, I quoted Shakespeare. “A rose by any other name, Soph.”

She lifted, propping herself up with her arms to catch my gaze. She looked totally serious, almost tearful. “I don’t want to be Sophie Buchanan anymore.”

Do it, reckless Brannon thought.

No, you’ll scare her away, cautious Brannon warned.

Quite frankly, I was afraid to open my mouth because I wasn’t sure which part of me would come out. I held my breath and waited for her to continue.

“I want to be Sophie Forrester.”

Both sides of my brain went silent. Like, there wasn’t a thought in my mind. Totally barren. Tumbleweeds.

“What?” I asked.

“I want to go by your name,” she whispered nervously.

“Fuck me,” I murmured, “are you proposing?”

Her eyes widened and she shook her head, just a little too emphatically. “I don’t want you to feel like you’re being pushed into anything. We don’t have to get married right away. You don’t have to marry me at all if you don’t want to,” she quickly explained. “But, you know, I live with you, and I… I’d love to be Sophie Forrester.”

She was rattling on, the way she tended to do when she got nervous. I liked what she’d said, though, and wanted to shut her up before she changed her mind.

So, in one swift movement, I rolled us, her onto her back and me on top of her, and I kissed her. Long and hard until I felt her body relax and go limp underneath me. And a little longer for good measure. When I finally lifted my head, her eyes held a dreamy cast, her soft lips parted and her breathing had become labored.

“You know I am going to tell all the Mofos you proposed to me, right?” I grinned.

“I didn’t propose, Bran,” she whispered with a small smile.

“Yeah you did.”

“No,” she shook her head.

I kissed her again. Longer and harder.

“Yeah,” I whispered against her lips. “And I’m saying yes.”

“Bran—”

I kissed her again. This time I brought her whole body up against mine, parting her sweet thighs as I slipped inside her.

“Okay, fine,” she gasped. “I did.”

“If it helps, Soph,” I murmured, groaning a little as she tightened around me, “I’ve been wanting to ask you since I gave you the ring.” I looked down at her to see a sparkle of happy tears fill her eyes.

And then I kissed her again.

And then I did more.

The End

Look for Denny’s book

scheduled for release in the Spring of 2015

Available on Spotify: *Post Breakup Sex ~ Sibylla Matilde

- Kina Grannis – Delicate

- Kings Of Leon – Charmer

- The Black Keys – Sinister Kid

- Florence + The Machine – Shake It Out

- Kings Of Leon – Use Somebody

- The Vaccines – Post Break-Up Sex

- KONGOS – Come With Me Now

- Kina Grannis – Use Somebody

- The Wreckers – Lay Me Down

- Hozier – From Eden

- The Black Keys – She’s Long Gone

- Kings Of Leon – Coming Back Again

- Black Rebel Motorcycle Club – Spread Your Love

- Foo Fighters – Everlong

- The Dirges – Better Days

- We Were Promised Jetpacks – Medicine

- Echosmith – Cool Kids

- Arctic Monkeys – Do I Wanna Know?

- Hozier – Take Me To Church

- Kings Of Leon – I Want You

- Hozier – Like Real People Do

- Thirty Seconds To Mars – Stay

- Calvin Harris – Summer

- Zedd – Stay the Night (feat. Hayley Williams) - Zedd & KDrew

- Lady Gaga – Poker Face

- Concrete Blonde – Everybody Knows

- We Were Promised Jetpacks – Peaks and Troughs

- The Wreckers – Stand Still, Look Pretty

- We Were Promised Jetpacks – Safety in Numbers

- Concrete Blonde – Roses Grow

- Florence + The Machine – Never Let Me Go

- The Black Keys – Fever

- We Were Promised Jetpacks – Act On Impulse

- Chris Trapper – Avalanche

- Florence + The Machine – You've Got The Love

- Florence + The Machine – Spectrum

- Butch Walker – Bed On Fire

- Hozier – Work Song

- Nick Mulvey – Fever To The Form

- Jessie Ware – Say You Love Me

- Rancid – Indestructible

- Thirty Seconds To Mars – A Modern Myth

- Beck – Unforgiven

- The Chain Gang Of 1974 – Sleepwalking

- Breaking Benjamin – I Will Not Bow

- William Fitzsimmons – Fortune - Acoustic

- Ed Sheeran – Bloodstream

- Concrete Blonde – The Sky Is A Poisonous Garden

- Radiohead – Street Spirit (Fade Out)

- Thirty Seconds To Mars – Alibi

- Josephine – I Think It Was Love

- We Were Promised Jetpacks – Conductor

- Susie Suh – Here with Me

- Jessie Ware – Wildest Moments

- The Script – No Good in Goodbye

- Sarah McLachlan – In Your Shoes

- Olly Murs – Dear Darlin'

- Hozier – Cherry Wine - Live

- Christopher Jak – Breaking

- Kings Of Leon – The Face

- Jessie Ware – Tough Love

- Jon Peter Lewis – To Make You Feel My Love

- Ed Sheeran – Thinking Out Loud

- You+Me – You and Me

- Beyoncé – XO

- OneRepublic – Love Runs Out

- Florence + The Machine – Dog Days Are Over

- Thirty Seconds To Mars – Do Or Die

I think acknowledgements are almost as hard to write as the book itself. There are so many people who do so much to motivate me along the way, even if they don’t know it. So I try to include everyone and doubtlessly fail. So, first of all, to YOU… all the readers and people who friend me on Facebook and Goodreads and Instagram and all those other places. Thank you so much for your support. Some of you have been there with me since I started this a little over a year ago. Some were there even before. Some of you are a little newer. But I wouldn’t be able to do this if you didn’t seem to find me worthy. I’m not that masochistic. LOL.

Also, I get a ton of writing inspiration out of music, so thanks to Deborah Gutierrez for introducing me to Hozier. And Emily Smith-Kidman for suggesting Bloodstream by Ed Sheeran (great song!). And Michelle Campbell for Olly Murs, even if he did skew B-dog for me for a bit. And to Pamela McGuire, Ashley Sutton, Lily Maverick Wallis, Danielle Reid, Mindy Sue, Jane Page Deeney, Ecaterina Moldoveanu, Odette Bowes, Nicola Heatley-Willis, Laura Scranage, Nicole Baylor, Nikki Edgar, Billie Helms, Teri Maxwell (even though she just kinda gave me shit about how I asked for it), and Gemma Harding. You all suggested music for the playlist. I listened to each and every song. Some went in this playlist and some went to a future inspiration list. Music feeds my soul, and I greatly appreciate that you shared your favorite songs with me. And thanks to Taylor Swift. It was really hard to get down to 69 songs in my playlist, and, without her pulling all her music off Spotify, I'm not sure if I could have done it because I was kinda digging Shake It Off.

HUUUUUUUUUUUUGE thanks to Shell (who bagsied Denny) and Beth (who bagsied Cody), my phenomenal ‘alpha’ readers. The P and the other H in our weird little HPH. I honestly don’t know what I would ever do without you guys. My rocks. You get me.

And my beta readers (OMG, I hope I don’t forget any of you) - Ashley, Chris (who has bagsied Drew), Dawn, Emily, Lily (who bagsied Brannon), Laura (who nominated me for the ALS Ice Bucket challenge, despite my threats that I would make her a bar slut), Pauline (ditto), Tara, and Terri. Also, Diane, Nicole (who bagsied Justin), and Tammy who beta read and then went through it again to proofread, too. You guys totally make me seem much smarter than I am. Thanks to my Irish experts, Dympna, Ruth (who just asked me to name a bar slut after her), and Lee who helped keep Denny from sounding like a leprechaun. I hope to come back to Ireland again sometime to see you. It’ll be great craic. :D

To my Flannel Squad girls - Michelle, Beth, Dawn, Ashley, Nicole, Diane, Jane, Nikki, Chris, Arabella, Ecaterine, Catherine, Stacy, Cherry, Lily, Janina, Chantel, Danni, Tina, Jen, Lisa, Angela, Pamela, Jennifer, Erica, Carrie, Laura, Rhian, Jen, Tracy, and Sam. OMG… you guys are incredible. Some of you pop in and out, some are there often. But you all do so much for me and make flannel give me warm fuzzies for a whole new reason.

To my Smut Sisters - Amy, Beth, Teri, Adriane, Terri, Jill, Dympna, Alexis, Kadene, and Kelly. Through all the trials and tribulations, I love you guys dearly. I wouldn’t be the person I am today without you.

Finally, to my husband and kids who seem to be more surprised these days if I actually do cook dinner. Or clean. Or watching TV with them without the computer on my lap and my iPhone in my hand. This writing gig makes things kind of weird for you, I’m sure, but you carry on and support me and give me crap to keep my ego from blowing up too big. I seriously love you. To my son… no, your friends cannot read my books. For that matter, I don’t want you to either. To my daughter, thank you for having no interest whatsoever in reading my stuff. You have no idea how much I, as your mother, appreciate that. And to my husband, I love you more than any cover model or actor or musician (yes, even Jared, Chris, Henry, and Sam/Jamie). None of them could EVER make me laugh like you do.

Sibylla Matilde grew up in the mountain valleys of Southwest Montana, and grew up exploring the alfalfa fields on the back of a horse. She attended a two-room schoolhouse 1st through 6th grade where she had same teacher the whole time. Beginning at about age 12, Sibylla discovered historical romance, feeding off of work of Jude Devereaux, Lisa Kleypas, and Karen Robards. She loves a book that can make the reader run the gamut of emotions, from the sweet glow of new love to gut-wrenching heartache. She always has stories floating around in her head, living in some fantasyland until she writes them down to free them. She is a true romantic, a bit of a Pollyanna, and a deeply emotional soul.

Music is her emotional trigger. Growing up with a Wagnarian-opera-loving mother, Sibylla grew up with music that digs deep into her soul and pulls out emotion. The soundtrack to her life includes different genres and generations. She looooooooves Thirty Seconds to Mars (rather obsessively, actually) with a little Kings of Leon to mix things up, and pimps them out regularly to all her friends through Spotify. She also enjoys watching Met Opera HD broadcasts at her local movie theater, and hopes (listening Met?) to someday see Diana Damrau reprise her role as Mozart’s Queen of the Night in Die Zauberflöte – The Magic Flute.

Sibylla lives with her husband, Mike, a man who she firmly believes saved her from her self-destructive, hot mess self. He makes her laugh every day, even when things seem to be falling apart around them, and has proved to her that love really can heal a shattered soul. In almost 20 years, they have never had a fight, but argue regularly with their two teenage kids who have, unfortunately, inherited their father’s quick wit (unfortunate as it is a quick wit that Sibylla, herself, definitely does not possess – there is a reason she is a writer and not a stand-up comedian), and live a quiet life with their two weird little rescued Chiweenies. Wait… teenagers and little yap-dogs? Okay, maybe not so quiet. :)

She kinda likes it. And, if you enjoyed Post Breakup Sex, be sure to let others know. Reviews mean the world to indie authors!

Website:

www.SibyllaMatilde.com

Email:

Siby@SibyllaMatilde.com

Facebook:

Friend me https://www.facebook.com/sibylla.matilde.5

Fan page https://www.facebook.com/SibyllaMatilde

Twitter:

https://twitter.com/SibyllaMatilde

Amazon:

http://www.amazon.com/Sibylla-Matilde/e/B00HHISEQ0

Goodreads:

http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7226522.Sibylla_Matilde

Pinterest:

http://www.pinterest.com/LETObsessed/

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Epilogue

Songs that inspired Post Breakup Sex

Acknowledgements

About Sibylla

Stalk Siby

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Epilogue

Songs that inspired Post Breakup Sex

Acknowledgements

About Sibylla

Stalk Siby