His lips travelled down my jaw, to my throat and began to suck at my collar bone. Slowly edging to that erogenous zone where the neck meets the shoulder. He suckled at my neck briefly before kissing back up towards my ear and whispering, "You taste so sweet."
I trembled.
Suddenly Bryce was unbuttoning my jeans with expert precision, pulling them down until they clung below the curves of my ass. Frenzied, I pulled our hips even tighter together and stretched, rather ungracefully, to remove his tight t-shirt. Once Bryce was free of the fabric, he smiled and pushed me back down to the ground.
With one quick, forceful motion, I found myself chest down against the grass. I arched my back as Bryce slowly, and with calculation, ground his now bare flesh against mine, in the right spot. I bit my bottom lip, both from excitement and glorious pain, as he slid the length of himself inside me. I couldn't even remember when he took off his pants.
He leaned close and tight against my back, gripping my jaw with his right hand and turning my face enough so we could kiss while he thrust. He repeatedly pumped, tasting me with an intensity and hunger that made me want to come apart.
Tilting my neck back down to the ground, I rested my head on my forearms and arched myself up to meet him. His name was a breathy mantra on my lips. "Bryce. Oh, Bryce." His hands rested on either side of me — pillars of strength, supporting his weight and movements.
"That's it, Parker. Let it go." He gritted out the words between thrusts, muscles corded at his neck and shoulders.
My mind was a chorus of jumbled thought. I wanted to. I was so close. Need. A little. Bit. More!
Suddenly a mass of energy went straight to my groin, and I exploded with orgasm. I could hear myself scream. Bryce jerked into me once, twice, three times more before his face buried into my neck. Arms wrapped tightly around my chest; he clung to me while we both climaxed.
We collapsed to the ground. Blades of grass tickled at my cheeks. The rushing in my ears slowly subsided, and I could hear our heavy, uneven breaths. Bryce stayed on top of me. His face in my neck, his weight comfortable, while he stroked his fingers through my now damp hair. There was a scent in the air that smelled of sweat, pine and something else -- something unique to us and our time together.
My senses were reeling. I couldn't believe what had happened. I'd never guessed that it ever would. Then, I felt Bryce stiffen and draw away, moving upwards and off, allowing me the space to roll over and face him. Something had changed. That was obvious by the way Bryce turned his face away to avoid eye contact.
I turned over, pushing myself up so that I was leaning back on my hands and cleared my throat. "Where did you go?"
Still not looking at me, Bryce replied quietly, "I'm sorry. We shouldn't have done that." He looked at me then with a pained expression. Completely different from the passion that had been there only moments earlier.
It chilled me, and I was suddenly so angry I could cry. Setting my jaw in a hard line, I pushed myself to a standing position and pulled my dishevelled clothing back into place. I felt very exposed and vulnerable. "Are you serious?" I was getting angrier by the second as Bryce sat there like a beautiful piece of stone. "You could have at least waited for the sweat to dry before declaring what a mistake it was." I was careful not to raise my voice.
"It's just that you're Lauren's brother. We're practically family. This has all the makings of a terrible idea," he said, pulling himself up and zipping his jeans.
I pushed past him and stomped towards the house. "None of that is new information." I threw my hands in the air, at a loss for words.
"I know that. Why do you think it's taken me three days even to try?" He gave me a nervous glance. "I'm not usually a patient person. When I see something I want, I make it happen. There are strings attached here, whether we want to see them or not. This could get messy."
"You couldn't have had this moment of clarity before you decided to fuck and chuck me?"
Bryce flinched at my vulgar choice of words. The weight of them brought tears to my eyes, but I did not dare let them spill over. With a single phrase, I had turned a tender moment between friends, into something ugly and crass. I still hadn't raised my voice. Maybe because underneath my hurt and confusion, I understood his reservations. Understood but didn't care.
I wasn't under any illusions. I knew very well, from the moment he kissed me that our time together would have been casual and temporary. And when I thought about it -- really thought about it -- it didn't even bother me that it would only ever happen once, what angered me what his timing. He could have allowed me that moment to enjoy the afterglow. He could have at least waited until my body had stopped trembling before telling me that in his life of very few regrets, I would be one of them. That's what stung me. That's what hurt.
I shook my head in defeated sorrow. "Goodnight, Bryce." I reached for the front door, humiliated. What else was I supposed to say?
With a look of regret, Bryce followed me inside, reaching out a hand to grab me. "Parker, stop. That's not what this—"
I moved backwards out of his reach, still shaking my head. "Then what is it? What would you call it? You had all the power, and you chose to make this happen. You chose to tell me you like guys -- something I would have never even suspected. Then, out of nowhere, you kiss me. Have sex with me. Then, the second you're finished --" I took a pause, trying to select my words carefully. "Throw a couple of hundred-dollar bills at my feet, and that might describe how I feel right now."
Bryce lowered his hand and walked in a tight circle, frustration and confusion painted on his features. His hands came up to his hair, pushing it back needlessly as he blew out a gust of air. Finally standing still, he looked at me, "You have to know that's not what's happening. Even though when you say it like that, I realize how it looks."
"Not how it looks, Bryce, how it is. You were drunk, you were horny, and I was the closest body."
"No," he said, shaking his head with emphasis. "I like you. I honestly do. I just think it's a bad idea. It could get so awkward."
I stood there, in his beautiful foyer, looking at him with newfound contempt. "Like now?"
"Yes, like now. I would hate for things to get muddled between us because of one momentary lapse in judgment. Can't we pretend this never happened?"
Struggling to remain composed, I headed for the bathroom, hoping to separate myself from Bryce, if only by a locked door. "No," I said softly but with conviction, before slipping inside.
SEVEN
Ibolted out of the rain and into Daily Grinds. The coffee house hadn't been there when I had left town, but I was happy that it was there now. In my attempt to avoid Bryce, I had crept out of the house at the crack of dawn. I wished I had made coffee and a quick breakfast before dashing out. I hadn't wanted to risk waking him and picking up our argument from where it had left off. I'd spent most of the evening sleepless, reliving the events that had played out. It didn't matter how many times I told myself it was sex, nothing special and nothing to be upset over. It had felt special to me, and his reaction immediately after did bother me. The sex had been amazing -- better than I'd imagined it could be -- but everything afterword had tainted it. Now, even the memory of the pleasure was unpleasant.