“As long as it takes.”
As soon as we got our table, Brad all but sprinted away, eager to get his own plate. And for the next twenty minutes, I had what could only be described as the most awkward brunch ever. We didn’t say a word to each other.
I literally mean not a single word.
Brad spent most of his time on his phone, probably looking up annulment lawyers and courthouses. Though peeved at first, I just used the chance to think about if I really wanted to pull the trigger on this.
And by the time the check came, I did.
“So—”
“I have to think about this,” I said, standing up abruptly and leaving Brad.
But I didn’t have to give it much more thought. I already knew what I wanted to do.
Chapter 3: Brad
So…
What the fuck was that?
Megan just stood up and left without any warning whatsoever. So now I was in even deeper than this morning somehow. I was now married, and my wife—fucking hell, can’t believe that’s what she is—was rushing away, delaying our inevitable divorce even further.
I had intended to take her to the courthouse so we could do whatever the fuck we needed to end this shitty nonsense, but for now, since she apparently wanted to disappear into the wilderness that was Las Vegas in the morning, I knew I couldn’t accomplish anything without her, not anything that would happen immediately. So I took the elevator back upstairs, trying to fight the nausea rising in my stomach. I couldn’t tell if it was from the hangover or the bullshit.
I got to the hotel room, opened the door, and looked at it with fresh eyes. The bed sheets were all over the place, the place reeked of sweaty sex, and my suit—which I’d struggled to find just an hour or so ago—was now visible on the side of the bed. Well, at least it looked like I’d had a good time last night.
Too bad I couldn’t remember any of it.
I took off my shirt and my pants and headed for the bathroom. But when I got inside, intending to just use it before a nap, I saw something.
I saw Megan’s necklace by the bathroom sink.
And that was when it all came rushing back to me.
* * *
Last Night
We stumbled back into the bedroom, laughing, kissing, and touching each other in very inappropriate places for the public. But we weren’t in public anymore, and it was about damn time for me to get my hands all over Megan’s body wherever I could—and wanted.
“Wait,” she said when she got inside. “Let me get my necklace off.”
I obliged, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t make it fucking difficult. I followed her into the bathroom as she took off her necklace. I ran my hands over her breasts and squeezed as I kissed her neck. She moaned my name, her eyes closing, tilting back. I took one look at us in the mirror and loved what I saw.
I was fucking making Megan Adams mine. No more guessing. No more trying to feel each other out. No more “maybe next time.”
We were finally going to fuck, and nothing was going to stop me. Nothing Megan could say or do would change what would happen now.
“Brad…”
The way she breathlessly moaned my name had my cock roaring to burst out of my boxers. I spun her around and pulled her in for a hard kiss. I squeezed her ass, and our hands were practically clawing at each other.
We stumbled toward the bed, barely able to keep our drunken selves from tumbling to the floor. And honestly, if that had happened, if we had made fools of ourselves, we still would have just fucked right there on the ground. I’d waited too damn long for me not to finally have a chance at having Megan Adams for myself.
We collapsed on top of the covers, and I pushed Megan’s dress up until I could feel her panties with my hands. In a more sober state, perhaps I would have had more foreplay to the foreplay, but not fucking here. I grabbed those panties, yanked them down, and rubbed her clit. Her hips arched up, she pawed for my face, and her hand went to my cock as I continued fingering her.
“Get those fucking clothes off,” she commanded.
I usually didn’t take kindly to people telling me what to do. Well, most of the time. I tore off my dress shirt and unbuckled my pants. Megan didn’t even wait for me to get that off. Her hands had already gone down, her nails brushing against the tip of my cock. I pressed my fingers in deeper, adding a third one, as her moaning grew louder.
“God, Brad…”
I loved how she fucking said my name. I wanted it burned into her memory. I wanted her to never forget that Brad Nimico had pleasured her better than any man had ever done before or ever would do. When she wound up with other men, I wanted her to fantasize about me in their place.
I curled my fingers, rubbing her G-spot until she shook and let out the long sigh of an orgasm. She broke into gentle laughter seconds later, pulling me in for a slower kiss as she murmured and pushed my hands down.
“Where did you learn to please a woman like that,” she said.
“Don’t ever fucking doubt me,” I said back.
She laughed and pulled back, kissing me on my collarbone and chest. I was more than happy to let this be the part where I relaxed against the bed and let Megan do all the dirty work. And let’s just say I couldn’t wait to see how fucking dirty she could be.
She started by licking my shaft and fondling my balls as her tongue rolled up to the tip. It was a fucking fantastic start. Really, as long as I came, it would all be great.
She swallowed all of me moments later, and like a fucking pro, she handled my cock like she knew exactly what she was doing. There was no hesitation, no shame in what she did. In fact, the more that I reacted, the more she got into it, smirking at me.
Fuck, that seductive grin. It was so hot, it was going to get me to climax faster than anything she did with her mouth. That might have been a slight exaggeration, but it wasn’t fucking much. Megan had given me previews of that look in the audience, at the bar, and over the last several years. I’d have killed for the moment where my cock was stuffed in her mouth and she looked up at me with that look.
And goddamnit, it was worth the fucking wait.
But I wasn’t going to let tonight end without fucking her. Granted, I could have just come, waited twenty or so minutes, and then pounded her pussy, but patience had never been my forte. I’d put the condom on, fuck her, and then let her go back to work. I needed to hear her scream, feel her bury her head into my shoulder as I gave her a second and third and who the fuck knew how many orgasms.
“Come here,” I commanded.
She looked up at me in surprise, though that didn’t stop her from continuing to stroke my cock. God, she was such a good girl.
I sat up with only a tinge of remorse, grabbed her shoulders, and pulled her forward and onto her back. I scrambled back to my pants, grabbed a condom from my wallet, and slid it on.
“Oh, fuck, now we’re talking,” Megan said.
“You think we’re talking now,” I said. “You won’t be when I make you come again.”
It was dark with the lights off, but I could practically feel Megan blushing with excitement. I positioned myself outside her, bit her neck, and went in as she clenched down.
I’d waited too fucking long for this moment not to fucking have my way with Megan. I wanted to fuck her senseless to the point that she fell asleep with her legs still spread and woke up barely able to walk normally. I put my hand on her neck and thrust in as deep as I could go.