Emilie"I love the taste of your pussy," Brandon mutters against my wet cunt, completely oblivious to the pleasure that's already shooting up my spine. "I could die a happy man between your legs, Emilie."I shiver."But I don't get it. Your cunt shouldn't be this soaked for me. It makes no sense.""Wh-what?"He looks up from between my legs. "I thought you didn't like me. But this—" his finger enters me and comes out all sticky and wet. "This proves that you're more than horny for me. But I wonder… Are you aroused because it's me or because I'm the first man to touch you? Which one is it?"Oh, but he isn't playing fair! I don't want Brandon to know that I like him because there is no chance he feels the same way! I'm just a stupid nobody with a crush on the soon-to-be billionaire—he will never be mine!"Emilie?" Brandon is teasing my pussy with his finger, sliding it out and in. Each time, my pussy clenches around his finger in a desperate plea for more.I swallow thickly. "What?""Te
EmilieIt's been a few days since the party, and I haven't spoken to or seen a glimpse of Brandon.Laura: So, did anything happen between you and Brandon during the party? You have avoided the question for days.I leave her on read since I don't feel like being a grownup today. To be honest, I think I'm going to spend the entire day in bed. I don't feel so good. I've been trying to focus on school, but whenever I'm alone, Brandon's name pops up in my head like a freaking disease.I know what it means—I've fallen for him. It's humiliating and terrible, and fuck! I still can't believe I asked him if we would have sex again. What was I even thinking?!My phone chimes with a message from my group chat with the girls, and I angrily hold the screen above my tired eyes to read it. I hope my phone will fall on my face to end my misery. I feel so rejected, and my phone is as big as a brick—the perfect murder weapon.Cindy: Vincent asked me out, but I got so nervous that I told him it would be
Brandon "She might have been your mother, but you forget she was mine first. She was the woman I admired, the woman I fell in love with, the woman I brought flowers to, and, finally, the woman who stole my first kiss. Your mother is and was the love of my life, which is why I've decided to finally let her go. And that's MY decision to make." I grit my teeth and glare at the TV. It's been a day since I spoke to my dad, but I still haven't processed the pain. My legs are bouncing up and down on the carpet — a nervous habit I can't get rid of — and I wish I had another bottle of scotch. The pain in my heart is raw and painful. I'm drowning in it. Slowly suffocating without anywhere to go. Does the grief ever go away? Angry at my inability to just stop feeling, I walk into the kitchen to grab a bottle of anything to numb my pain. I'm a man. I shouldn't be crying. I shouldn't be breaking apart. Why am I so weak? I just...I just wish my mom was here. She would know what to do and how
Emilie After Brandon spilled out his emotions without saying a single word, we moved to the couch. Again, we didn't speak. We still aren't talking. In fact, I'm pretty sure he is asleep. I glance down at Brandon's head resting in my lap and suck in a deep breath. Do not touch his blonde hair. Do not touch his soft and pretty hair. Keep chilling. Be cool. You're here to support and hold his hand through the darkness, not admire his beauty. "I can feel you staring at me." I cast my glance away and let out a nervous laugh. "I-I thought you were asleep." Crap, does he know I spent the last ten minutes staring at him? Brandon shifts on the couch so he can look directly up at me. His blue eyes are half-closed and so tired, and his lips are caught in a frown, but there is a slight color on his cheeks. Is he embarrassed? He is pulling the face of a hesitant person. At first, I expect him to just grunt and roll over, but he reaches out his arm and grabs my hand. My breath hitches when
EmilieLaura drops me off outside Brandon's house but drives away before I can turn around and tell her I've changed my mind. What a disaster! There are other people inside his kitchen—I can't just go and knock on his door. He obviously forgot we had plans tonight!Shit-shit-shit!What do I do now?The painting is clutched to my chest—I'm like a mom protecting her child, but I'm too scared to move. I see a big guy walk past Brandon's kitchen window. Loud laughter comes from inside, and a few cars are parked around his house. Did he invite the entire football team? And if yes, why? I thought we were going to be alone tonight...Am I that easy to forget?Geez, I guess my only choice is to call for a taxi…"Emilie?!"I spin in the direction of the voice, and my attention lands on Vincent. He is standing on the porch with a beer in his hand and beams when he sees me. "Why are you just standing there? It's cold outside. Freaking freezing. Come inside!""Uhh…""We have been waiting for you!
Brandon Where am I supposed to sleep? Snoring comes from the couch; the guys fell asleep ten minutes ago. But not before ruining my floor. Beer cans and pizza boxes lay scattered everywhere, and I would rather not sleep on the floor. The couch isn't an option, either. More than five people are sleeping on the couch, and I cautiously glance down at Emilie. She has stayed at my place countless nights in a row, but we have never shared a bed. Would she freak out if I asked her? In the past, I would have just flopped down beside her without asking, but after getting to know her, I...I care about her, okay? "Do you wanna share a bed?" Please say yes. It would be beneath me to use my sister's bed or Bernie's—that little fucker uses way too much Axe bodyspray. I would suffocate as soon as I smelled his pillow. Emilie looks up at me with a flushed face. "S-sure!" "Great." I walk up the stairs and notice Emilie's gaze is locked on her feet. Why do I get the feeling this is a bigger deal
EmelieI hold my breath when Brandon walks out of the shower. The air around him smells fresh and citrus-like, and my heart flutters when the bed sinks underneath his weight. Crunch-crunch until he lies down and stares up at the ceiling in the dark, just like me. The silence stretches until I can no longer handle it. "I wish I knew what you were thinking." I blurt out. He shifts on the bed, probably to face me. "There is always the option of asking me," he says.My face turns red. "I know what you were doing in the shower, and I guess I want to know if you're mad at me."He is silent for a while before chuckling. "Do angry people usually masturbate in the shower—is that what you're implying? Because if that's the case, then wow...you really need to find new friends."Even though he is sarcastic, I can't stop my blush from spreading. How is this man so blunt?"Don't you ever get embarrassed?" I mutter. "About what?" he asks, suddenly much closer than before. I can feel his hot breat
EmilieLaura: Are you telling me he never tries to do more than just kiss you?I look down at my phone that's lying in my lap. Brandon is driving to the hospital while I'm texting with Laura. Our subject is apparently my non-existent sex life with Brandon, although there are more important things we should be talking about. Like the fact we are heading to the hospital to say goodbye to Brandon's mom, but Laura doesn't know that, and I won't tell her. Not today. Me: I don't want him to do more. Laura: ... you're not a-sexual, are you?Me: What? No? Why?Laura: Because just looking at your man makes me want to have sex, and I think every girl on campus can agree with me. Brandon is hot.Me: I know.Laura: So what's your problem?Me: Ever heard of waiting?Laura: Oh, so it's like that? Well... I'm not against waiting, but Brandon is a man. If you don't have sex with him, he will find someone else who will. That's how men work. Laura: Don't get me wrong! I ship you two, but men will a